#some of you lack empathy so badly and I worry very much about you

[10-59]

opened the vs tag and immediately received psychic damage

[faceless-es]

Thoughts On Milgram Characters

(This is pretty lighthearted and doesn’t go too deep into them as characters, just silly thoughts that pop into my head)

Haruka - I kin this man. Ever since I saw Weakness and was hit by a fucking bus of relating to later being hit by a fucking train from All-Knowing and All-Agony. (If you all are curious I wrote an entire note on all the lyrics and how I relate when I first watched it and basically trauma dumping, may show it if demanded) Besides kinning him I feel a lot of empathy and attachment for him. Do I condone his actions? Hell nah, but I just want him to have therapy and love. I rest my case.

Es - I love them. (I don’t know if I kin them or if they’ve just taken over my very being but-) There’s never been a snarky 15 year old in fiction I have adored more. I love their personality. The sudden changes in their personality with the bell and such leads me to be very curious about them, and also deeply concerned. Their lack of memory does the same. I worry for their future. I worry for them. The theories don’t help. Don’t hurt them, please. I want to take them and carry them away. Also, they are very much gender. Their voice is also very gender.

Fuuta — Our silly little gamer boy. I love him. He’s cocky, but he also is remorseful. He’s reflective and realizes his actions were not just. He’s smart. He calls shit out. He has good intentions. He’s snarky, fiery, but kind and passionate and willing to learn. He’s very reasonable, like if I were a prisoner in MILGRAM I wish I would be like him. His actions make so much sense and I applaud him for it. He doesn’t deserve this shit. He’s been wronged. I love him, a lot. Everything about him. I want him to have happiness. I also love his voice.

Kazui — Our dearest gay(?) man. I love him. (I say that a lot, don’t I?) I want him to take me under his wing. I love him. He’s so fatherly. He’s so fucked up. He’s the dearest. I’d love to talk to him and help him accept himself. I’d also recommend therapy. Our dear man, he’s so attractive too. But that’s besides the point, he’s also just so goofy. I love him. He deserves to live a good life and be loved for who he is.

Shidou — Our lovely doctor. I feel like he’s very misunderstood in the community, so many people say he’s an organ harvester, when he would just ask families to pull the plug and donate organs to other patients. He’s often painted out to be some crazy mastermind, I may just be dumb but I don’t see that to be the case at all. I think he’s lovely. He may be a bit of a mystery but I still love him. He doesn’t seem to be an ill-intentioned person at all. He also deserves therapy. I’d love to help him. Poor guy.

Yuno — I love her a lot. I love her personality, no matter if it’s “cold” or not. I completely stand by her. She deserves the world. I feel she needs therapy. She’s amazing and I love her sassiness and bluntness. The way she calls shit out as it is. She’s great.

Mikoto — Oh, dearest! This man, I love him. I love him more and more each day. Every theory I read about him leads me to have more and more empathy for him. God, I worry a lot for him. I hate how much he’s sexualized. I hate how he can be misunderstood or demonized. He doesn’t deserve any of it. I want to take him far, far away from it all. He needs therapy. I want him to be okay. I fear for him. I want to give him a big hug, and tell him it’s okay. God, I love him and his complexities as a character.

Mahiru — Oh, dearest. She had such hopes and happiness all shatter. Poor girl. She needs therapy, for sure. I feel bad for her. She clearly didn’t know what she was doing was wrong. I really hope she will be okay. She doesn’t deserve such pain.

Amane — She may be a bit of a brat, but I’ve grown to care for her more the more I learn. Poor girl has been traumatized so badly, I feel so bad for her. I do not agree with the way she uses her religion, but what can you expect? She was raised in a cult, it’s all she’s known. This poor girl, I want to hold her close. She needs therapy. She’s 12 for gods sake. I wish she didn’t have to go through all this. I hope she will break free from the cult. I still am angered by how low her vote has been, seems many people dislike her. I get that her personality is not great, but you have to take into account her circumstances.

Muu — Ah, our manipulative rich girl. I can’t say I like her, since that’d be a lie, although her songs are absolute bops. Yet, I don’t despise her, I just very much dislike her personality. She’s manipulative and self centered, perhaps partly due to her upbringing. She was likely a bully herself too. Not good vibes from her. Does she deserve to be thrown into some torture chamber prison for that? No, of course not. Also, Muu, stay away from Haruka. I’m warning you.

Kotoko — Ah, the savior complex vigilante. If you couldn’t tell by that, I don’t like her much. In fact, her self righteousness gets on my nerves a tad. She judges anyone and everyone freely based solely on her beliefs, yet she always is in the right somehow? Don’t like it. Although, the way she is a parallel to us the audience is genius. Really makes you think, huh? I’ll give her that, she makes me think. I wish she’d get off of her high horse though. I can sense there’s some deep insecurity in her, perhaps that’s why she does this. She is interesting, and could become a better person with work perhaps.

I hope no one is offended by this, these are just some thoughts that popped into my head when thinking of them. It’s pretty lighthearted. I mean no disrespect, all the characters are morally grey! I just have my own biases and therefor like some more than others. Thanks for reading it you did!

[doctordonovan]

❝ just maeve is fine. ❞ it was the miss, not the lack of formality, that had bothered her. in truth she cared all too little about how people referred to her as long as it was borne from some kind of politeness - as long as it wasn’t from a place of trying to erase the things she’d worked so hard to earn. he was here from a place of concern, not as a student, so informality hardly seemed to matter.

it didn’t take much pushing for her to know which student he was here over, to guess what worries must be clinging on the tip of his tongue. she knew his sister - had seen her potential - had seen the toxins filing mind and veins alike.

there was a thin, grey line. a line she needed to carefully tread, where she had to be careful to never offer too much information whilst still allowing him to get out what he felt the need to. if he’d come here, it was clearly bothering him badly, and if he was here her own concerns might receive a little backing.

she could only blame so much on instinct, on recognising so much of own struggle in younger woman. peor was not in a good place… and she seemed to have no desire to dig herself out of the hole she was sinking into. cut off sentence was also enough for her to know what he was getting towards, what information was considered too sensitive to be given a voice to.

❝ I know my word won’t mean much to you. but I can assure you, I have no interest in getting her in trouble or putting her future in any kind of risk. ❞ her students, whilst she kept them worlds apart from herself, were still on the receiving side of a lot of maeve’s caring. a firm lecturer - yet full of empathy - full of wanting to help them achieve their best and nurture their true curiosity.

caring for someone who was still happy to let themselves burn into ash… it would never be easy. ❝ you came to talk, and you’re very welcome to. I’m not going to quote it or use it against anyone. but perhaps you should come to my office instead of here, mmm? ❞

Mr. Vargas. The address sounded wrong, especially from somebody not too much older than him. What had bothered the doctor out of sheer habit unsettled Lux in an entirely different way. Maybe because it made him feel old. Or maybe because the only people who referred to him by his last name tended to wear scrubs. Not that she could have known about that.

"Just Lu-- ...uh, I mean, Lux is fine, really", he said quickly while mentally stuffing the matter back into the box it belonged in. "And I get what this might look like to you, doctor... Donovan, isn't it? But please, let me explain."

Despite his initial hesitation, he had of course done his research. Not only on the professor, but on this specific move as a whole. A strange man inquiring about a barely legal woman at her de facto work place was bound to raise suspicion, at least among the more attentive kind of people. He distinctly remembered an incident at the bar where a guy introducing himself as the cousin of his co-worker Lucy had asked about her whereabouts. Lux almost told him that Lucy wasn't coming in for work until the next day, when his other colleague Mariella had quickly cut him off to say that they did not know any Lucy, and he must have mistaken them for a business with a similar name two city districts over. The guy left, albeit reluctantly. Later it had turned out that he was actually a man Lucy had gone on a few dates with some months prior, and who had begun stalking her over the phone and social media ever since. Back then, Mariella had given Lux a very insistent lecture about never revealing anything about his female co-workers to a man or any other person he did not know. If his sister's teacher had only half the wits about her that Peor attributed to her, surely she would think the same.

Suddenly acutely aware of his own size and appearance, Lux quickly glanced around the room for a nearby chair to take a seat on. Alas, none of the tables and benches of the auditorium were close enough to casually slide onto and continue his conversation. Ah, well. He had to do without that, then.

"So... I will admit that I don't see my sister that often", he begun, as if to diffuse an invisible accusation that no one had uttered. "She's bright, yeah. Probably brighter than any one of our family. But she's also always been a little more.. reclusive, I guess. Always in her own world, and I'm afraid I just never found the key." He smiled a little.

"But lately, she has started sending me a lot of weird texts. I didn't think much of it at first, I know that she..." ...likes to smoke pot and god knows what other kinds of drugs? He couldn't possibly say that. Peor was only nineteen, for god's sake. If it didn't get her arrested, then surely they would kick her off the campus at least. Lux bit his lip.

"...sorry. I really don't want her to get into any kind of trouble. She's a good girl, you know? And I think she really likes your class, which is why I came here in the first place. I don't know who else to talk to."

[zazzander]

Mark of Athena's Dining Scene - Breakdown

For more about Octavian's character see this post.

So my most hated scene in all of Heroes of Olympus comes at the beginning of Mark of Athena. The Seven treat Octavian terribly. And in many ways, I blame them for the reaction they get from Octavian.

They say they are coming in peace. And they have, effectively, two leaders to win over. The first is Reyna. She seems willing to believe them. But the second leader is Octavian, the religious head of the legion as the augur. No one goes on a quest without his say-so, at least, not an official one.

So, they should have been trying to win Octavian over as well as Reyna. Which means putting up with someone who gives them bad vibes.

Octavian expresses his reticence

“You want us to relax in the shadow of their warship.”

Note - “relax” and “warship”. I think this entire meeting could have gone better but for the aggressive action of parking the warship over the city. It's like saying "let's be friends" while pointing the gun at you.

Percy's Abuse of Power

The first person to behave badly is Percy. To be fair on Percy, they have a small amount of history. HOWEVER, the situation has radically changed. Percy now outranks Octavian.

“Good idea. Go burn your bears, Octavian.”

This is a demeaning comment from Percy. Octavian’s job is to sacrifice the stuffed animals. It's an incredibly important job. Much like the Oracle at Camp Half-Blood. And I think it’s another example of Percy disrespecting how Camp Jupiter works. Everyone has a role and a part to play and a duty to uphold.

Percy's Failure to convey Octavian's importance

This point doesn't exempt the others for their actions, but it does, in part explain it. And I think it's fair that some measure of blame should be leveled on him.

But Percy needed to let the Greeks know who they needed to win over, who had the power in the situation. Yet to Annabeth, Percy says,

“Don’t worry about Octavian. Most of the Romans are good people - like Frank and Hazel here, and Reyna. We’ll be fine.”

The thing is, Annabeth hasn’t had time to form her own opinion of Octavian. Octavian has only warned Reyna not to host a dinner party in the forum, questioning having a peace meeting in the shadow of an enemy WARSHIP. A pretty rational objection.

So Percy’s comment here actually set up Annabeth’s opinion of Octavian. Octavian is a “bad guy”. And she just saw Percy be incredibly rude to Octavian, though she doesn’t know the significance of the teddy bears yet.

Annabeth, even, in her own way, seconds Octavian’s concerns. She wants to leave ASAP, with Percy in tow. She feels like something terrible is going to happen.

Plus, even worse, Percy implies that Octavian isn't someone to worry about. Octavian is someone without influence or power at the camp - which is blatantly wrong and Annabeth/the Greeks needed to know that.

Piper, Piper, Piper

Then we get Piper’s moment of charmspeak.

“Now, be quiet and let Jason finish.”

This is the first line Piper speaks to Octavian. He has literally never done anything to her. Octavian is raising a legitimate objection, potentially he wants actual proof that Juno had been imprisoned in the Wolf House.

As he puts it, “that’s our most sacred place.”

But this is ignored by the Seven, without shows a complete lack of empathy. I can't imagine being forcably silenced by magic, especially in such a tense situation.

Further Abuse of Power by Percy

“On the bright side, both Jason and I outrank you, Octavian. So we can both tell you to shut up.”

So now Percy is actively abusing his newfound power to force Octavian to “shut up”. And he know sit. Like, this is pretty much the first thing Percy does with his praetorship.

What’s more, Octavian actually obeys. Sure, for Percy it might be a flippant comment, but that’s because he really doesn’t understand that he does outrank Octavian. And in a society where defiance of authority could - potentially - be punished very severely.

[Then Reyna has the gall to smile]

Immediately following this, Percy suggests he’ll step down as praetor. Interestingly, it’s only then that Octavian breaks his silence once more.

Annabeth Is At First Rude

Reyna asks Octavian to recite the prophecy, which like basically Octavian’s thing and the only element of his participation that hasn’t been mocked yet, and Annabeth INTERRUPTS HIM!

Like that’s at least three people actively dog piling Octavian + Reyna and Jason acting as supporters & encouragers.

Have you ever been bullied by three people at once? Ever been told to shut up and had your talents mocked and denounced? I have. It’s not fun. And it’s not funny.

Admittedly, after this, Octavian does scoff at Annabeth. But it’s not like Octavian is even the person to bring up her ancestry - it’s Frank. He’s the one who questions it. This is literally the only thing Octavian does against any of the Seven - and it’s reasonably understandable at this point. He’s not going like them at this point.

Annabeth Gaslights Like An Expert

Then Tyson and Ella show up. And Ella gives a prophecy. There’s so much potentially going inside Octavian’s head at this point.

1st. Octavian likely has experienced moments in his life where his gift of prophecy + his autism has made him a really awkward dinner guest - the kind to predict doom and gloom. So there’s a chance he sees himself in this random harpy that just showed up.

“Really, Octavian? Maybe harpies are different here, on the Roman side. Ours have just enough intelligence to clean cabins and cook lunches. Do yours usually foretell the future? Do you consult them for your auguries?”

Obviously, this is some intense gaslighting right there. Made worse considering the situation. But more than that, she turns the crowd on him - publicly embarrassing him for being willing to believe that a harpy might have intelligence.

And Octavian’s reaction cannot be discounted here. His tone shifts. Before he was incredulous. Now, he’s hesitant.

“I, uh…” Octavian dropped his teddy bear. “No, but-”

“She’s just spouting lines from some book,” Annabeth said, “like Hazel suggested. Besides, we already have a real prophecy to worry about.”

Octavian reacts to this tactic differently. Against abuse of power & the charmspeak he is defiant and angry. Against this? He’s confused and hurt.

He isn’t popular among the Romans and they dislike him so much that they side with the enemy leader rather than their prophecy expert.

We know Octavian’s special interest is the Sibylline books. He just heard someone recite a prophecy - can we not wonder that his desire here is not to injure or harm, but to share? To talk to someone who knows about prophecies and might just share his own interest? And only to find himself mocked.

The Ray of Hope that is Tyson

I find it kind of interesting that Tyson chooses to hug Octavian, and Octavian doesn’t actually fight him (just looks uncomfortable). That really doesn’t make sense unless there’s a bit of - “hey, you’re neurodivergent. So am I.” - between them. It's just no one else in the forum realises, at least, not Annabeth.

Then… We Come to Leo.

“Come aboard, man. I’ll give you a tour.” This section is fine. I like it even. Leo is the first person to realise that Octavian is someone to engage with as a representative of Rome. Then he messes up.

“You can steer the boat, and if you’re really good I’ll give you a little paper captain’s hat to wear.”

I know some people think this is just Leo being a jokester. But even by itself, this sounds like mockery to me. It’s condescending as hell. “If you’re really good” “little paper captain’s hat” those are infantilizing comments.

And then consider the context of that statement, of all the things previously discussed, yeah, that’s going to piss you off!

And even as confused, hurt, and angry Octavian is he agrees to go on the ship. Reyna doesn’t even have to order him. He follows Leo behind enemy lines, because it's his duty to not take any of the previous events personally.

Final Thoughts

So, yeah. It’s really hard to read this scene and not hate the Seven. It’s ironic that neither Frank nor Hazel, the people who have the most exprecience with hating Octavian, say nothing to him. Instead it’s Percy, Piper, Annabeth, and (in a way) Leo.

[erimeows]

Snow

Optimus Prime wasn’t the best at comforting other people. He was awkward, withdrawn, and unsure of how to relate to others’ struggles- really, he thought he lacked empathy. So, as he sat up in bed with his back against the headboard and a servo over the back of your head, he debated on what exactly he should be doing.

You had been tossing and turning for the past hour or so. It was normal for Optimus to miss out on sleep whether it be because of work, nightmares, stress, or insomnia, but you? Your rest was important to him. He didn’t know if he should wake you up or not, as it was clear that you weren’t sleeping well, but he didn’t want you to miss out on any sleep either.

Were you having a nightmare, or was he just projecting his issues onto you...? You were laying on your stomach with your head in your arms, legs kicking and body thrashing about, a disturbed look on your sleeping face when you moved your arms enough for him to see it. The only reason he was even awake was because you’d turned over and smacked your fist over his face in your sleep. Thankfully, with your smaller human body, you didn’t do any damage to his face plating, but it was enough to startle him and fill him with concern.

He knew you’d been going through a rough time recently; a bad fight with some of your family over what you were doing in life (they disapproved of you dating him and a lot of other things about you. he wanted to punt kick them across the planet, but you wouldn’t allow it), severe anxiety about him and how dangerous his job was fighting against the Decepticons, issues with your day job, body dysphoria, and problems taking care of yourself; you either didn’t eat enough or ate so much that it made you uncomfortable, you were forgetting to stay hydrated, you went days if not a week or two without showering, you rarely brushed your hair and only brushed your teeth when you were reminded to, hardly changed clothes, and let your sleep schedule become a complete and utter mess. Even worse, you’d been talking very badly about yourself, your looks, your personality, and your person as a whole, and knowing just how bad of a mental spot you were in broke Optimus’s spark.

He couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had a good day together, no worries and no stress, just enjoying each other’s company.

But really, he didn’t care. He would have as many bad days as he had to if it meant that he would be able to get you through this, to make you feel better. He just wanted you to be okay again.

With a small huff, he moved the hand on the back of your helm down to one of your shoulders to tentatively shake you awake. Your eyes snapped open, which made him flinch, but then you were staring at him with a tired, pitiful look. 

“Oppy...?”

Your tone was confused, your (h/l) (h/c) locks were a greasy mess, your (e/c) eyes were red, your (s/c) skin was blotchy from days of you anxiously scratching at it and forgetting to wash your face, and you were practically shaking where you had moved to lay on your side to face him. Even if the timing was bad, Optimus couldn’t help but think that, even at your worst, you were the most attractive person in the universe to him.

“Hey, handsome,” Optimus whispered in a hushed tone and offered a soft, tired smile as he caressed your face in one of his servos, thumb lovingly stroking over your cheekbone. “What’s happening?”

“Oppy,” You breathed, almost like a sigh of relief, but at the same time, tears were filling your (e/c) eyes and pouring out to stream down your cheeks. You moved to cling to him in an instant by wrapping your arms around his body and burying your face in his chest. Your next words were muffled. “Thank God, you’re still here...”

“Of course,” Optimus replied and scooped up your small body to cradle you in his strong arms and hold you against his chest. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, it’s just...” You paused, and then sighed, comforted by how you were being held by him. “I had a dream that you were gone.”

“That I was gone...?” Optimus mumbled, fearing the worst but hoping for the best in your answer. “What do you mean?”

“You died,” You answered, sniffling, only for the last of your composure to shrivel up and die as a heart wrenching sob wracked your throat, coming out against his chest. Your tears fell onto his heated metal as you continued. “Megatron, he- he finally killed you, and I was there but I was too weak to do anything like I always am and-!”

“Woah, hey,” Optimus started and pulled you as close as he could, rocking you in his arms in some attempt to soothe you. Had you been having nightmares like this regularly, or was this the first one? If it was the former, how long had it been going on for? Why hadn’t he been able to help before it’d gotten to this point, you sobbing into his chest and desperate for a moment of peace? “I’m here, okay? I’m right here, and-” He was tempted to promise that he would always be there, that he would never leave, but he couldn’t do it in good conscience. Just like you feared, he could die any day now, and once the conflict with the Decepticons died down or once they were finally bested, he would have to go back to Cybertron with his team and there was no way he could safely take him with you. As long as you’d been dating, as much as you two loved each other, and as much as he wanted this to work, he knew that there was a good chance it wouldn’t; that this would be temporary, but he was willing to do anything for you while he still could. “And I don’t want to leave you, (y/n). I never want to leave you. What can I do to make you feel better?”

“I don’t know,” You answered, shaky, your hands desperately clinging to his shoulders. “Just stay with me... Please don’t leave.”

Optimus didn’t make any promises- he never did. Instead, he shushed you and hugged you tight.

“I think what you need is a distraction,” He offered. “Why don’t we go outside for a bit?”

“It’s cold outside right now, Oppy,” You laughed, voice crackly. 

“We can bundle up and keep each other warm, right?”

“Okay, sure.”

You relented with another laugh before wiping the tears from your face, and with that, the two of you were slowly separating and getting out of bed. Optimus stood and watched you get dressed with plenty of layers; your binder, boxers, leggings, sweats, two pairs of socks, boots, a tight long sleeve shirt, a sweater, a jacket, and a coat. You stopped to fix your hair before continuing with your layers, finishing off your warm, cozy look with gloves, a scarf, beanies, and earmuffs. 

Recently, there had been a cold front in Detroit, leaving the weather bitter and chilly in low single digits and tons of snow. Optimus didn’t mind it much, as Cybertronians naturally ran a lot warmer than humans and regulated temperature well, but he knew that you had to put a lot of effort into staying warm. 

He could tell that you were still thinking about your nightmare and all of the doubts and questions and fears that came with it, but you persevered and took his servo when you finished getting ready, looking up at him with a forced smile.

Still, he smiled back and squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“You look great, handsome,” He complimented, only to earn a scoff and a roll of your smouldering (e/c) eyes in return- almost like you didn’t believe him.

“Thanks,” You responded with a wry smile and an equally as dry tone.

All Optimus could do was laugh. 

The two of you snuck through the base to avoid waking the others because according to the clock on the living room wall, it was past midnight and everyone else should’ve been in recharge. You were successful despite the little mischievous chuckles and snickers that fell from between both of your mouths. When was the last time you’d gone somewhere together and had fun like this so spontaneously? Optimus couldn’t remember. Things had been hard recently, and even if the circumstances weren’t the best, he was happy to be by your side with the two of you smiling again.

It felt... Healing. Rejuvenating, like something deep in his spark was being reignited again. A wide grin took over his face when the two of you made it out the front door, only for you to let go of his servo so you could run off from him and into the front yard, gathering some snow in your hands and throwing it up. He watched it flutter and break into little pieces, and then be blown away by the harsh wind and land on the ground again. It was ‘good snow’ as you and many other humans called it, meaning that it was fluffy and easy to clump up and make things with instead of icy, crunchy, and prone to falling apart when you tried to mush it together to make snowmen or other things with it.

Optimus just watched you for a few moments, enjoying yourself for the first time in weeks as you crouched down on the ground to make a little snowball. Seconds later, though, you turned around and chucked it at him, hitting him square in the chest. Quirking his optical ridge, he used his windshield wipers to get the snow off of his pristine window plates before kneeling down to meet your eyes.

“Oh, so it’s a snowball fight you want, huh? You’re so on!”

He began making a snowball with his own servos, and unsurprisingly, you were running away, gleeful little laughs coming from between your lips that made his spark beat hard against his chest and his face flush with the utter adoration he had for you. He adored you so much, in fact, that he decided he was going to go easy on you and make the snowball especially small while also giving you a head start to run away from his attacks.

And, even with all of your struggles and all of your stress, Optimus managed to put it aside for a moment, because as long as you were happy, he had nothing to worry about. 

“Are you coming or not?” You yelled, now quite a bit aways away from him.

“Just you wait!” He called out, and with that, he was running after you with a snowball in hand, laughing just as loud if not louder than you were.

[theghostofblackbunnymask]

can you pls write alphabet for yandere fundy ty and ily!!!

Author's note- Little furry boi, I really want more Las Nevadas Crew request

Warnings- Obsession, Worship, mental abuse, Psychological torture, physical abuse, panic attacks (Fundy), lack of freedom, guilt tripping, and fear

Yandere Fundy Alphabet

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Fundy would be very touch starved, so he would cuddle you, kiss you, and just pick you up and carry you around.

But if Fundy couldn't touch you, he would give you gifts of things you like, he'll spoil you rotten.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Fundy can be pretty messy. His main method is quite simple, he'll just slash the person in the back with his claw like nails and then claw them to death.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Fundy wouldn't want to to treat you badly, he doesn't want to be like his father, and just the thought of it makes him sick.

Fundy would treat you with respect and will respect your boundaries, but if you don't like being touched, well I'm sorry because this furry boy will NEVER let you go.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

I mean, possibly touching you if you don't like being touched. Oh, and not taking you outside, he'll only take you to Las Nevadas since you two live there, but even then he'll watch you like a hawk.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Fundy is pretty vulnerable, everyone basically left him, he can't loose you too. So if anyone threatened his Darling, he would fucking beat them to a pulp until someone pulls him off.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Pretty disappointed, he's given you everything, besides freedom, but who needs freedom anyways when you have someone to think and do things for you. He'd most likely just lock you in your room until you behave.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This. Isn't. A. Fucking. Game. This man would go into straight fucking panic the moment he find out, he may even have a panic attack. But after that he'll calm down and using his fox sense of smell to find you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Picture this:

You just said to Fundy that he was just like his father, and that, that would break him. All of his common sense, all of his self control and all of his sympathy and empathy are all gone.

"Just like Wilbur? HAHAHAH, you think Wilbur would do something like this... Oh... I'll show you what he would do if I'm just like him!"

Fundy would pin you you down and start punching you, and they he would start to claw at your face, and he would only stop when he looks at his hands, all of it covered in blood. Fundy would look at your passed out and limp body with so much regret. He would patch you up while crying and cuddle you saying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're right... I'm just like Wilbur..."

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Living in Las Nevadas with no worries. No more wars, no more Dream, no more Wilbur. Just peace.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Fundy gets jealous quite easily, and when he does he starts to get rude to the person and insult them until they run off crying. If you were to ask what was that for, he'd just say that he was protecting you and that they were just going to use you for their own disgusting desires.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Pretty soft, he'd do whatever you want and treat you like absolute royalty. But don't take him for a push over, the moment he sees your taking advantage of his kindness and generosity, he'd lock you in a room with no food and no water, just so you learn that his kindness and generosity is a privilege, so treat it as such.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Fundy would be so blush around you, he would send you love letters and gifts anonymously, and would watch you when you open them, wanting to see your reaction to his gifts, seeing you happy makes him so happy.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really, no, but he is 10x softer.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Fundy would never want to hurt you physically or emotionally on purpose, he doesn't want to be Wilbur 2.0

Key words are- Physical or Emotionally.

This man will definitely use some psychology shit on you. Have you heard of white room torture? He would definitely do that. This man would harm you mentally, but he could never harm you physically, cause whenever he sees the scars he starts to cry, seeing himself as a disgusting monster.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Freedom and freedom of speech. God forbid you mention or say the name Wilbur around him, this man would go insane and beat you to a pulp, before regaining his composure, patching you up, and crying while cuddling you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Fundy's pretty patient, he understands that love takes time, trust, and that it can be cruel. He'll give you all the time in the world for you to love him, there's no need to worry.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you were to escape, he would find you within a few hours, and then drag you right back while ranting and guilt tripping you about how much pain you caused him.

Now if you died, he'd be heartbroken, he wouldn't even take care of himself anymore and would just let his nightmares consume him, and juust allow himself to wake up from those nightmares.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Fundy would know it's wrong to hold people hostage, but he just wants to protect you, they're too much bad and terrible people on this server and he doesn't want you to fall victim to them, so if kidnaping keeps you safe, then I guess that's what he must do, love hurts, but it'll be worth it in the end.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

☆PEOPLE LEAVING HIM☆ So whenevethe starts to fall for someone or befriend someone, he'd do anything for them not to leave him, but if they abuse or mistreat him, he'd drop and let them go.

Tears: How do they feel about their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Fundy would feel terrible if he made you cry, he would beg you to stop while apologizing. But if someone else made you cry, he would threaten the person.

If you were to yell at him, he may get scared since it reminds him whenever people got upset with him, mainly Wilbur, so Fudny would just back away scared before running off.

If you were to isolate yourself, he would tell you it isn't healthy and that you should talk to him if he or someone else did something wrong.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Not really sure.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

A few things actually.

His obsession with you, if you act like you're obsessed with him, you may be able to escape.

His desperate attempts to not be like Wilbur, if you continue to assure him he isn't like Wil, you could gain his trust and escape.

Using guilt tripping against him, make him feel bad and he'll give you more freedom, then you could escape.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Fundy has outbursts sometimes and during those times he can't control himself, leading him to hurt you. He doesn't mean to though.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

A lot of lengths, he basically worships the ground you walk on and would do anything for your love, affection and approval.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

1 year.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Fundy doesn't want to break you, he could never live with that.

[animeomegas]

(infertile alpha request) oh, sorry! Preferably Naruto, Death Note or Obey me

(Thank you so much for clarifying! I’ve done Naruto and Death Note 💓 Enjoy!)

Naruto – He is a bit sad when he hears the news. He definitely wanted to adopt at least one child, so he’s not sad about never having children, because he knows he still can easily, but he was kinda really looking forward to being pregnant. He wanted to know what it was like, all the things he’d seen other couples go through (ultrasounds, cravings, birth classes), and it’s a little startling to have that dream suddenly ripped away from him. He’s not comfortable with any other conception methods, so he adopts all his children. But, when he’s cuddled up with his three adopted children, he can’t believe he was ever upset about not having biological children, and the thought that having biological children would have stopped him adopting all of his current children makes him feel sick because he can’t imagine a life without all his precious pups. Where would they be if he didn’t adopt them? Naruto decides that it was better this way, in the end.

Sasuke canon – Sasuke is very conflicted, at first. He had been clinging onto this dream of reviving his clan since he was a child, but now the only person he could ever tolerate having sex with can’t give him that… He’s not getting a donor, no way. There are no orphans from his clan to adopt. He honestly doesn’t know what to do, there seems to be no good answer. In the end, I think he would decide to just never use birth control and see what happens. The chances may be extremely slim, but he’s not comfortable with any other conception method, so it’s this or nothing. It might actually be quite a good experience for Sasuke in the end, because he is finally forced to examine some of the goals he clung to as a child to keep himself from breaking down and see if they are something he ever actually wanted. He might think about what life would have been like with his own pup occasionally, but he’s never been as happy as he is with his alpha and that is more than good enough for him (but not good enough for the council who harass him about having as many children as possible, constantly.)

Sasuke non-massacre AU – He doesn’t think it’s a big deal tbh. He got himself sterilised while he was in his early twenties because he didn’t want to deal with the possibility of getting pregnant, and he had to fight his clan for it! So, he’s glad that you won’t have to do that same, but it’s easier for alphas anyway. If you’re in a relationship with him, then you obviously don’t want pups, so he doesn’t think much about it. He’s like “Oh, okay,” then ends the discussion.

Shikamaru – This might be a problem… His child will be the next clan leader and they have to be of his blood, as is clan tradition. He would probably have to go for a donor to get pregnant, probably some distant clan member he’s never met before, but he feels really weird about it. He doesn’t like it, but he bites his tongue for once and gets on with it. He keeps it a secret from most people. The other biological parent is a clan member, so he just lets people believe that Shikamaru’s Nara genes were super strong, and that’s why there’s none of his alpha in their pup. I don’t think he would ever tell his pup that they weren’t biologically the child of both of their parents, he doesn’t think it matters and he doesn’t want to cause drama or have to involve the other bio parent if his pup asks after them. It’s better left as a family secret.

Shino – His situation is similar to Shikamaru’s. His child will be the next clan leader and in order to have a kikaichu and be trained like his clanmates, they have to be biologically an Aburame. Shino is also not comfortable with other conception methods, but mainly because he’s terrified of his alpha rejecting the pup if they aren’t theirs or reacting badly if Shino is pregnant with someone else. Some alphas have a hard time with those instincts and can’t accept non-biological pups or get violent when their mate is carrying someone else’s offspring. Shino is pretty scared. He also is so humiliated during the invasive insemination procedure. In the end, he had nothing to worry about, as his alpha was the perfect parent to their pup, but for about a year, Shino is constantly stressed that everything is going to change suddenly, and his mate will snap and leave them or something. It’s a tough time for him.

Neji – He’s actually quite relieved. It makes him feel a lot less guilty for his own fertility problems. If you’re both sterile, he’s sad that you’re both lacking something you want, but it makes dealing with his own problems easier. There are many orphans in the clan, so you both adopt from that pool, and Neji couldn’t be happier and prouder of his children.

Kakashi – Thank fuck for that. He got sterilised when he was in ANBU, just in case he had any missions that involved seduction. Kakashi might make a joke about how you’re lucky that you got to avoid the hospital and still be sterile. He wishes lol. Anything that helps him remain childless is good in his book.

Iruka – He makes sure his mate isn’t upset, but Iruka himself is totally fine. He wouldn’t mind not having children at all, and if they both decided to have children, Iruka would want to adopt anyway. He thinks it makes so much more sense to adopt when there are so many pups who need loving homes. He does get a little sad if his mate is sad though, but only out of empathy, not because he himself is sad.

Itachi canon – It is very helpful for him. While Itachi has issues with his heat and his health, he doesn’t have many problems getting pregnant, he just can't carry to term. And birth control is hard as a missing nin, so he’s very glad that he doesn’t have to worry about it. (Miscarriages are not fun, and with a fertile mate he would certainly have suffered through a few). It’s better for him this way, his circumstances prevent him from having children anyway.

Itachi non-massacre AU – He’s devastated. He doesn’t blame his alpha at all, but he’s very upset. His clan will never let him adopt, if they're losing one of their best shinobi to stay at home and raise children, those children better be the new top shinobi, so they have to be his biological children. He using artificial insemination, and he uses the sperm of another Uchiha (one that he's not directly related to). The clan elders are overjoyed that Itachi's pups will be 100% Uchiha blood rather than mixed. But Itachi is very, very firm about making legal protections for his mate as their pups' parent. He doesn't want his clan to pull anything to try and exclude his alpha or claim that his mate doesn't have authority over their own child. He's very firm about those conditions.

Sai – Huh, well, he hadn’t given pups much thought tbh. He’s totally okay with not having children, he genuinely doesn’t care that much. He likes it just being his alpha and him, so why change it?

Gaara – He’s another one who is completely devastated when he hears the news, but he is very stoic about it on the outside because he wants to be a good support for his alpha who might be struggling. He really mourns being able to carry his alpha’s pups. He doesn’t want to adopt because he really wants to carry a pup and breastfeed and everything, but he’s also worried about his alpha feeling betrayed or excluded if he goes for a sperm donor. He’s desperate for his own children, two at least, so he wants to use a sperm donor.

...

L – He nods and files it away in his brain with all the other information about his beloved, but he doesn’t file it as important. You have already agreed to not have children, so it doesn’t matter either way.

Light – Hmm, this is a problem for his plan. He needs someone to take over the perfect world he’s creating, and he was planning on it being the biological child of him and his mate. Well, it needs to be his child, but it doesn’t matter too much if it’s also his alpha’s biological child. Light isn’t comfortable with artificial insemination, but he’s down for seducing one of his fangirls/fanboys and using them. He wouldn’t tell them that the pup is theirs though because he doesn’t want to be tied down to someone he can’t stand. If they got too suspicious that his pup was theirs, they might find themselves the victims of a mysterious death.

Matsuda – He’s distraught for you and himself. He’s a very traditional person who wants traditional things, a couple of kids, a nice house, a dog, that kind of thing. He would want to try every possible method to conceive naturally, but after two years going back and forth between various fertility clinics, it’s clear that he’s not going to get what he wants. Matsuda goes back and forth between various other methods but eventually decides to adopt an infant. He never really stops hoping that he’ll magically become pregnant, but that doesn’t mean he loves his child any less, because he absolutely dotes on them.

[hyuckssunchip]

눈빛

~the expression of one’s eyes

Pairings: Mark x Reader, ft. Johnny

Words: 3.3K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, unrequited love

Synopsis:

It wasn’t as if Mark couldn’t see it, in fact he was almost sure that Johnny could see it too. The way that you looked at him. At Johnny.

“Horror or Rom-com tonight?” You turned to face Johnny, dressed in his familiar pajamas, plaid didn’t do him justice.

“I dunno, it’s your night to choose.” Your eyes followed his figure, and you admired the messy hairdo you had gotten so used to.

“Horror? Are you up for some nightmares tonight?” He laughed, and your heart skipped a beat at the sound.

You giggled at his response, but he recognized the nervous look on your face.

“Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe, just like old times.” He plopped on the cushion next to you, his body flushed against yours. This was nothing new, his warmth was a familiar feeling, but you could never get used to the butterflies that the contact sent through you.

“Remember that time you thought that Pennywise was hiding under your bed?” He snorted at the memory of you huddled on the couch in the middle of the night, begging for him to stay up with you.

“That was stupid, and I told you I didn’t like clowns.” You grumbled, wrapping the blanket around you tighter, trying to ignore the teasing looks.

“Sure, so I’m guessing you don’t like ghosts either?” He nudged you, raising his eyebrows.

“No, I’m fine with ghosts.” You mocked back, but the hint of fear was evident in your voice.

“Great! I know a great movie then!” He moved towards the remote, checking out your reaction from the side of his eye.

“Yeah…” You mumbled, sinking further into the couch.

You were interrupted by the soft slam of the front door. 

“Johnny?” You turned at the sound of a new voice.

“Oh, hey Mark. We’re about to watch a movie, wanna join? It’s horror.” He sang the last part, taunting you.

“Oh.” The awkward tension didn’t leave, and you turned to face Johnny, indicating you wanted to be introduced.

“Oh. Y/N this is Mark, Mark Y/N.” Johnny went back to the TV searching for the movie and leaving you and Mark to awkwardly acknowledge each other.

“Hi.” You let out a soft whisper, waving a shy hand at the newcomer.

“Hi.” But all he could do was stare back, a tiny smile adorning his face. You returned his smile, and turned to Johnny, digging your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What?” He flinched, rubbing his ribs and giving you a teasing glare. You nodded your head in Mark’s direction.

“Mark, you gonna join?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” He stuttered out, glancing between the two of you as he fell into the seat adjacent from you.

The starting credits of the movie began, lighting up your faces. Throughout the movie you had dug yourself into Johnny’s side, his arm making its way around your shoulders, laughing at the way you used him as a shield. 

“You could’ve said no to ghosts.” He whispered in your ear, with a teasing grin on his face. 

“Shut up.” You smacked his chest.

From the other couch Mark watched your interaction, the way that you looked at him, the way that you held onto him.

“Oh, hi.” You were startled, looking up from the comfortable position on the couch.

“Hi.” You winced at the awkwardness, suddenly wishing you hadn’t showed up to Johnny’s place early.

Mark slowly sat down on the other couch, as if he was worried that you didn’t want him there. Which wasn’t exactly true, but also not far from the truth.

“Are you waiting for Johnny?” He asked, choosing to look at anything but you.

“Yeah, it’s movie night again, but he said he was running late.” You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, staring at the plant on the coffee table.

“Oh.”

The silence was heavy. Normally you weren’t this awkward, but apparently your social ineptness and his just made things worse.

You giggled at the thought and as a way to relieve the tension.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows, worried that he had done something.

“Nothing.” But you couldn’t help but giggle again. The laughter was contagious and soon you found each other’s company comfortable.

You wiped the small tear that was threatening to escape, “Oh my god, my cheeks hurt.” You shook your head, the last half an hour you and Mark had been laughing non-stop, bantering as if you had known each other as long as you and Johnny had.

He had the biggest grin on his face, a goofy look that you thought was sweet.

“What’s going on here?” Johnny entered, chucking his back by the entrance. He commanded attention, pulling you and Mark away.

“We were just talking about you actually.” You smirked, winking at Mark.

“Hey, that’s not nice. What’d you talk about?” At the sound of the both of your laughter Johnny had wielded one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen. He felt content at the sight of the two people he loved most being happy. 

“Oh, just some things… like that time where we went swimming and you-” His hand slapped over your mouth as he sent you a glare.

Mark doubled over in laughter, as you ripped his hand away from your face. “I already told him, it’s not new news.” You laughed at the look of horror on his face.

“You said you’d take that to the grave!” He threw an accusing finger at you.

“Oops. I lied.” You giggled at his face.

“Whatever. Horror night again I guess.” He smirked at the way your face fell.

“No, it’s my turn to pick.” You whined at him, to which he promptly shook his finger at you.

“Uh-uh, you lost that privilege the moment you opened your mouth.” He reached for the remote, quickly trying to find the movie.

You pouted, crossing your arm over your chest. “Whatever.” The smile grew on your face as you made eye contact with a very red-faced Mark, who looked as if he was going to combust from holding in his laughter. “It was worth it.”

Mark snorted, unable to keep it in. “I can’t believe you-” But the rest of his sentence couldn’t be heard, his own laughter ruining the story. 

“Whooo.” He calmed himself, dabbing the undersides of his eyes dry.

“Okay. You done now?” Johnny teased sarcastically. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the grin that stretched over his face.

“Yeah.” But the tips of Mark’s lips never went down.

“Where are you going?” Johnny shouted at your back as you tried to leave the apartment.

“Mark’s taking me bowling. We’re going to practice so we can whoop your ass next Friday.” You shouted back, shoving your feet into your worn shoes, victims of your lack of patience.

He smiled at the sound of the door slamming, pleased that you two were getting along great. He wanted so badly for your friendship to work out, and possibly move to something more. Mark wasn’t exactly shy in the way that he looked at you, or talked about you. And Johnny could think of no one better he would approve of.

But the problem wasn’t with Mark, it was you. You were oblivious to his feelings, and even more so to your own. No matter how much time you spent with Mark, you told yourself that your heart belonged to someone else. No matter how wrong that was, you had convinced yourself that what you felt was love, and it wasn’t possible to feel that way for anyone else.

“You know I think you should get out there, I mean I know a really great guy that would be perfect for you.” You frowned at his words, not liking the sound of it.

You hated the way he was pushing you into a random relationship, especially when you just wanted nothing more than for him to reciprocate your feelings. But he was doing the opposite. 

“I don’t want to get with a random guy.” You tried to push the idea away and move away from the topic.

“But you can’t just keep hanging out with me,” He frowned at your scowl, “I just want to do you a favor, I think you’ll really like him.”

“I don’t want to, Johnny. I’ll get into a relationship when I want to.” You pushed back, grabbing your phone as a distraction.

“When is that gonna be? You can’t just wait forever.” He tried to get your attention.

“Who says I’m waiting? I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.” You snapped at him, his words now hitting a little too close to home.

“I’m not saying you’re not happy, just that you should find someone that can love you the way you deserve.”

You tensed at his words, not quite yet understanding where that was coming from.

“I know, and I’ll find that when it comes along.”

“I can’t do that for you.” He let out, biting his bottom lip.

Your heart stopped and suddenly you felt your chest tighten. 

“So you knew.” You felt hot tears of embarrassment threaten to fall. 

“Y/N…” There was a pleading tone as he realized your hurt, but that didn’t stop him from his next words, “It was hard not to.”

You swore you heard your heart break. “How long?” You croaked out.

“A long time Y/N.” He faltered out, watching your expression fall.

The feeling of betrayal hit you hard, and unable to reach his eyes anymore you turned on your heel, just narrowly missing his outreaching grasp.

“Y/N…” He paused, noticing the way you hesitated. It was hard not to, after all your feelings were still so strong and so real.

But he never finished, and you took that as a sign that the conversation, or whatever this situation was, was over. 

It was only natural for you to find comfort in the person that seemed to know you best after Johnny. Mark.

“I was talking to Haechan yester- hey, what’s wrong?” Mark immediately found your eyes, a pool of empathy that you longed for.

You sniffled and your bottom lip trembled as you tried to speak. “He...Johnny.” That was all you got out before your voice was swallowed by a sob.

He reached out for you tentatively, wrapping an arm over your shoulder. You automatically melt into his embrace.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, softer than before, but just as genuine.

“Johnny found out I like him…” You faltered, not wanting to come to terms with his rejection.

You were terrified at the sight of his face, he wasn’t at all shocked at your confession.

“Was I that obvious?” You asked, moving to wipe the streaks off your face.

He sighed, trying not to meet your desperate eyes. “I mean…”

Your shoulders dropped, face heating in embarrassment. “Does everyone know? Am I just that transparent?” 

“So what if you wear your heart on your sleeve? What’s wrong with that?” He leaned down to make eye contact, trying to console you.

“He doesn’t…”

You didn’t finish, but he didn’t need you to. Once again, his arms wrapped around you and he swayed you in embrace for a moment of silence.

Although he hesitated to ask, he desperately wants to know the answer to the question on his mind. His timing wasn’t great, but he’s human too. 

“Do you… still like him?” He asked the top of your head, not daring to move as he felt you stiffen.

“Yeah…”

Neither of you spoke.

“I don’t want to though.” 

“Sometimes you can’t help it.” He mumbled, some of his own truth behind his words. “The heart wants what it wants right?”

“Yeah.”

“Y/N.”

You froze, it was too early for you. You knew the moment you laid eyes on him you would break again.

“Are you mad?” He asked gently to your back, although you couldn’t see him, the Johnny you knew was genuine. 

You sighed, it was soon, but you wanted to be able to hold yourself together for this conversation.

“No.” It came out as a squeak and you flinched at the sound of your vulnerable voice.

“I don’t want… I don’t want our friendship to be like this. I don’t want things to change.” Your heart sank at his words, although he had good intentions you knew the meaning behind them. That anything more than a friendship was never going to happen.

“I can’t do this right now.” You whispered out, sliding past the door. You felt your throat tighten involuntarily and a sob escaped you as you ran down the hallway, bumping into Mark on the way.

“Y/N?”

You continued past him, not wanting to take the chance that Johnny had followed you.

But the steps caught up with you, and you found a pair of arms enveloped you from behind and your shoulders sank in defeat.

“Y/N?” You relaxed at the familiar voice. You turned around in his arms, choosing to wrap your arms around his waist. You fit snug against his chest, the warmth and his heartbeat calming you.

“Shhh…. It’s okay.” He patted the back of your head, raking his hands slightly through your hair.

You simply hummed, not able to formulate a sentence yet. Together you rocked silence, slowly but surely calming you.

“I’m just not ready.” You answered eventually, muffled into his chest.

“It’s okay.” He murmured back.

“I want to be ready to face him, but it still hurts.”

“Y/N, just take your time, you don’t have to be ready yet.” He comforted you, ignoring the own pain that he felt.

“Thank you.” You whispered into his chest, sniffling as you pulled away. You laughed nervously wiping your nose, “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

He giggled back, trying to make you feel better, “My shirt isn’t worth your apology. I’ll be your human tissue any time.”

You smiled shyly at his words, and you felt a small flutter in your stomach.

Another week had passed before your dreaded conversation with Johnny arrived. You finally felt ready to face the truth, but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared for the change that came with it. You weren’t stupid, awknowledging this meant that things weren’t going to be the same between you two. As scary as that was, nothing was going to get fixed if you avoided it.

“I- I don’t know where to start.” You had never seen Johnny so shy or confused. You were used to him being the powerhouse, the moodmaker. And it hurt you to see him look so defeated.

“Then let me. I have some things to get off my chest, and I honestly don’t know if I can do it if I don’t say it now.” You sighed, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

He nodded, letting you take your time.

“It just hurt, you know. Like not only was it one-sided, but I just kinda felt betrayed that you played along with it. If you knew the way I looked at you and you didn’t feel the same, you didn’t have to play into it so much.” You paused, still looking at the ground. “You could’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want things to change. I love our friendship, and I never wanted something to come between us. I thought for sure things would get weird if I said something. I mean, look at us now.” He let out a nervous laugh, something that you couldn’t reciprocate.

“But don’t you think it would’ve been better to let me know, so I didn’t feel like you played with me and my feelings?” You felt bitter when reminiscing the moments he made your heart flutter.

“I never once meant to play with your feelings, I swear. I know it looks really bad, and it didn’t help stop your feelings when I acted like that. But I truly didn’t do it to mess with you, or purposely hurt you.” He reached for your hands, grasping you softly. “I didn’t want things to be like this, I just figured that you would find someone else and forget about me. I mean that’s what I hoped.” 

You faltered at his words, heartbroken that he wished that your feelings would just fade. 

“I know it was stupid, and it was harsh, but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hurt you and I thought this was the best way.”

You pulled your hands from his, fiddling with your fingers. But slowly you nodded, starting to understand him. Of course Johnny wouldn’t do that to you on purpose, you could trust him.

You watched as his expression visibly fell, and you wanted so badly to comfort him. “I know that you meant well, I just wish it didn’t come out like this, I wish you would’ve just told me. But I get that you didn’t want to hurt our friendship and I know this is probably better. I don’t think that there would’ve ever been the right time to tell me. It just hurts, you know. It would’ve hurt at any time though.”

You sighed at your admission, realizing that this was inevitable. With your feelings and your relationship with Johnny, this was inevitable, it was only a matter of when and how.

“I don’t want to say sorry for being hurt, or say sorry for having feelings for you, my feelings were valid. But I do want to say I’m sorry for reacting the way I did. I should have come to terms with it a long time ago but... I didn’t want to.”

He smiled sadly back at you. “Can things go back anytime soon? I don’t want things to be weird between us. I would hate our friendship to end.”

“Me too. I do think that it’ll take some time for things to go back to normal, if it will. But I want everything to work out the way it did before, and I’ll try.” You gave him a small smile, a means of offering your attempt in saving your relationship.

“Don’t be stupid. I told you it’ll never work, you’re just wasting your time.” You snorted at the loud thud that followed your words.

“I’m telling you, balancing upside down won’t get rid of your hiccups, what kind of logic is that?” Mark moaned in pain from his position on the floor, now sprawled out.

“Then what do I do?” He rubbed his head, face still red from the blood rushing to his face.

“Uh I don’t know, learn to live with it?” You snickered at the look he gave you.

“Uh… why is Mark on the floor?” Johnny walked in, staring between the two of you with a weird look on his face.

“He’s trying to get rid of hiccups.” You replied, leaning over the back of the couch to get a good glimpse at Mark.

“That doesn’t work.” Johnny said confidently, “I’ve tried.” He plopped on your right, staring down at the hiccuping boy, who glared back.

He wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you into a soft headlock. 

Things were still different than before, but you were starting to go back to normal. His touch no longer sent flutters through your stomach and you smiled at the interaction. 

“What you need to do is hold your breath.” He motioned to the way he was holding you, “I can help you out with that.” 

Mark glared at the older boy, “No thanks, I rather enjoy breathing.”

He rolled over and slowly sat himself up, leaning back on his hands. He cleared his throat, sparing a glance up at the two of you. “And hands off my girlfriend.” 

© Copyright 2021. hyuckssunchip. All rights reserved.

[thewillowbends]

So I'm rewatching the first season and reading the book, and I've got Thoughts (TM)

And I've got a LOT of thoughts about what exactly Leigh Bardugo was doing here in terms of the moral and ethical statements of the narrative, so I'm putting it under the cut.

Something that's really glaring on the rewatch is just...the complete lack of compassion every character outside Aleksander has for the plight of the Grisha. The army treats treats them with reciprocal dislike, despite the fact that they couldn't even cross the Fold with the Inferni or Squallers. The tsar and tsarita treat them with condescension and disdain, clearly valuing them mainly as a utility that, historically, they've happily turned on when they felt they were growing too powerful. Baghra has just given up on trying to protect other Grisha who aren't immortal like her or Aleksander. Even Alina is guilty of othering them and has to be told off by multiple characters (Ivan, Aleksander, Baghra) to stop treating her power like a yoke instead of a responsibility and opportunity to help others.

We get this big, bad, armor-piercing line from her to Aleksander about how he doesn't care who suffers as long as he wins. Which is true to some extent, but...where is her compassion? Didn't we just spend a hefty portion of the narrative wanting to give her power away to somebody else so she can, what, be with her bestie? Meanwhile, there's, you know, an actual war going on. This isn't small stakes shit she sees going on around her. People are dying. We literally have an entire plot where we see a Grisha kidnapped, enslaved, and then sent to be put to death...who was given to the enemy by her own people!

And then we get that line from her in 1x07, only to have it followed up by her running away at the end of 1x08 for....why? Most people on the ship are dead or those that survived weren't his supporters. The people on the docks were killed, and most of them actually were traitors trying to kill Alina. Aleksander didn't lie about that. So she's running away to take the blame for some nebulous reason that's not really well explained, which is...well, what the fuck happens to the rest of the Grisha? Do we not care about how Aleksander's actions are going to reflect back on them and cause a potential backlash or something? Not to mention, nobody is on the other side to warn them that Aleksander is a threat to begin with. Even if you assumed he was dead, you'd definitely want to assume he likely had supporters back at the palace, too!

From a character writing perspective, I find it stupid that Aleksander doesn't tell her certain things because if he's such a big, bad, clever manipulator, he would absolutely be weaponizing his own pain and experiences to make her stumble in empathy. That's bad character writing to me when you're telling me somebody's an abusive villain but actually isn't using very real and effective abuser tactics. But then you also have Alina who refuses to even point out...Aleksander, I get it! I've talked to other Grisha! I see what you're going through! But this can't be the answer. You have to see this won't end well for you! Like, her own arguments make no sense to me. They're so myopic and self-involved.

One of the big things that bothers me that gets folded into Aleksander's other manipulations is this idea that he primarily associates and values her for her power, in contrast to Mal who primarily sees her for being herself. While I get the intent of that on a narrative level, in the scope of the wider story...it just literally makes no sense for Aleksander to parse those two as separate. Not when the whole reason Grisha are hunted down and killed is because they don't get the privilege of being people outside of their power. Aleksander doesn't get to be General Kirigan without also being the Darkling. Therefore, Alina doesn't get to be Sankta Alina without also being the Sun Summoner. Not a single other character gets to be relevant without being powerful.

Even on a narrative level, it makes no sense. One, it's frankly kind of sexist (when are male protagonists ever expected to be segregated from their power) and two...that's the whole reason we're telling her story! That's why she's the protagonist! She is special. She can't be separated from this unique power destiny has handed her. We don't tell stories about common, boring people; we tell stories about people who incite conflict or change. So even the mere concept to me of basing a character's identity or value around not wanting value is frankly kind of ridiculous.

There's just this strangely insidious underpinning to the story that power is inherently dangerous, even as it acknowledges that people who are NOT in power can very much suffer at the hands of those who do. So where's the moral and ethical reflection about what this means for the rest of us? What does that mean for minorities?

Think of the scene on the boat where Aleksander has Ivan kill off the nobility. The narrative wants you to see this moment as blackly humorous and awful, but stop for a moment and think about what happened there from his perspective. This is a man who spent centuries watching his people get killed and enslaved, and that isn't a false representation or manipulation from him, either. His statement is backed up both by what we see in the flashbacks and by other Grisha. Nobody created a safe haven for him and his people - he did that! He had to claw his way to the top, flatter, kill, and fuck his way through god knows how many noble houses, just to get to this moment where he could build a Little Palace. And it took him four hundred years just to get that! All while Grisha are dying!

And nobody did anything about it. Not the king, not the landholders, not even the peasantry. They were happy taking advantage of the Grisha's powers, of course, when Aleksander helped raise them up into a position of prominence, making them soldiers and enchanters. And even then, they're mocked! The army can't wait to get rid of them!

And then some noblewoman, who has enjoyed the benefits of her wealth and power, some of which were built on the backs of your people, sits there and tells you, the moment you take hold of the power everybody else has been grabbing for centuries, has the audacity to sit there and tell you that the world will hate Grisha and view him as a heretic?? When less than twenty years ago, your people were being killed right and left? When the enemy is still kidnapping and enslaving your people? When your own countrymen view you with fear and intrigue already? The audacity to sit there and frame it as a hypothetical when it's very much an actual reality still going on. Just look at the barely hidden seething rage and contempt on Barnes face when he delivers that quip about "needing to do that speech again." Motherfucker has been waiting YEARS for this moment, this revenge. And really, who can blame him...if you aren't wrapped up in the narrative wanting you to focus on just what he's doing to poor Alina.

The way the Grisha's situation is framed along with how the Darkling's descent into villainy is handled is so just incongruent to me. The pieces don't fit. You're asking me to see this man as completely irredeemable after you just showed me six episodes of Grisha being killed both for being what they are in the hopes of protecting Alina, after you showed me that Aleksander had already TRIED appealing to the protection of the crown by lending it his power, after making us see that lies and manipulation are the only way he and his mother have been able to survive as long as they have in a world that eradicated them. Where is the compassion in the narrative for that?

And okay, fine, you can do an irredeemable villain. You can do a Kilmonger-esque story with the Darkling, but that requires forcing your protagonists to empathize with the villain and change from it. But then I read ahead and...that doesn't happen?? She winds up walking away from it all at the end?? In fact, she even loses her power. And that's supposed to be a HAPPY ending? After we just saw how badly this minority was treated for how many centuries??

You know what it feels like? It feels like Leigh Bardugo read The Hunger Games, tried to replicate a Katniss, and then completely failed to understand the profound situational differences between her protagonist and that one. Katniss is a girl made extraordinary by her circumstances. She's not special herself other than the fact that she did the right thing at the right place at the right time and helped create the tipping point for a revolution that was already in the works before her. Katniss walking away from the world after makes sense because she's burned out after the war, but it also got its use from her. She helped make the revolution work; she showed up for the event while it was happening and did what she could. The situation was out of her control and power for the most part, and she still managed to rise the occasion.

Alina is NOT Katniss. She is inherently special. She is inherently powerful. She has the ability to create change and bring a new perspective that Aleksander has long given up on and which her country desperately needs. We know the world of the Hunger Games will be better because the creators of real change were always working behind the scenes behind Katniss. She was just their propaganda, their symbol. Alina is a symbol, but she is also a very real power. It's not an act of moral celebration for her to walk away from power at the end, namely because there's a whole minority class of people we still have to worry about. Putting a Grisha on the throne is no promise the country won't turn against them eventually, nor does that protect the hundreds of Grisha at the mercy of a superstitious peasantry and countries that will likely continue to invade them.

It's just...I dunno guys. It's frustrating because all the compelling elements are there in the characters and storyline, but it's like the author had a set of characters telling one story and then she had an entirely different plot in mind, and they just clash all over the place for me and become thematically inconsistent. But what really gets me is that she had seven years to think this shit over...and we're looking to get the same story all over again. Usually, it's a great thing to have an author involved in the show. This is a rare situation where I wonder if it hurts the chances of it improving.

[rahleeyah]

your anon here! i too have been thinking about the discrepancy in tone between the two conversations olivia had with amanda, even as the content remained functionally the same.

she is clearly worried about amanda, and knows that its very likely that she isnt doing as well as she claims to be. but you're right, she came from a softer place the first time around.

and i think it comes from how long olivia has been on her own, how long she has supported herself. yes, she has had people to lean on - elliot, cassidy, tucker, etc - during hard times, but she is someone who has always pulled herself out of her darkest moments by sheer force of will, someone who believes (and whom life has taught) that if she does not bear the weight herself, heal herself, claw her way out of the dark herself, there is no one else to do it for her.

and i think that does sort of inform the difference in these conversations. olivia told amanda that she was worried. and despite no lack of care, no lack of empathy, or sympathy, or understanding, you see a hint of a 'get your shit together' tone this time around.

olivia has never had a choice not to have it together; or, at the very least, not hide how badly she was doing.

this is not to say she expects amanda to be over it already, but that in some ways, i think she's expecting her to at least be better at pretending she is, the way olivia has always had to.

just my thoughts.

hello anon welcome back!!! lovely to see you come sit by me lmao

so the two conversations ("i trust you but i know you" vs the coffee scene last week where amanda is explaining what happened to her and liv is supporting her) were an interesting contrast to me on the meta level of like. how tptb are approaching the relationship between these two women.

in each convo, olivia is worried about rollins, and trying to make sure she's good. but in the first one, in the "i trust you but i know you" there's something wry, stern, corrective there - as there probably should be, considering that in that case olivia thinks amanda is making reckless choices. in the second one, the coffee scene, olivia is trying to give amanda a chance to be honest about how she's feeling, she's open and compassionate and devastated and scared for her friend.

and that to me is really interesting, bc she's very much the mom/boss in the first convo, but she's a friend in the second. and that's appropriate, given the context of the conversations - in one she's trying to intervene before amanda gets hurt, in the other amanda has already been hurt and she's trying to offer comfort.

but it's so nice to see olivia the friend in the more recent scene. olivia the confidant, olivia the trusted compatriot, the equal, who understands exactly what amanda is feeling and why and offers support. yes, she's the boss and that's why she tells amanda she can't say no to the conversation, but she isn't in charge, in that conversation. she's giving amanda room to speak.

and it's interesting that we get it now, ya feel

[myrfing]

long wol thoughtz not spoilery really but it was prompted by the expac

thinking about what I said about gouerd & I really do struggle to elaborate properly about this part of his character. his early childhood was spent much in isolation as the weird little child of a hermit and it only was until he was maybe 7 that he really like...had a friend? and I dont mean a friend his age just another human being he had the opportunity to be close to and also his memory got wiped at this point so he has no idea why he feels this way for a long time, but he starts off with actually very little empathy & it's his desire to be with the people he loved that made him learn how to be compassionate towards others and whatnot. and their ideals and philosophies pretty much shaped him into guy who just loves and cares about people in an almost detached way. like he finds immense worth in the lives of others no matter if he is close to them or not. this is what makes adventuring for him so fun, he is constantly falling in love with people (non romantically lol) and their lives and stories. but his heart still doesn't ache or mourn or weigh with guilt over the people he chooses to kill.

MAYBE that's in part because of that lack of connection for much of his crucial early baby life, maybe it's in part because of how he learned to rationalize it as he realized this about himself when he was a teenager (he's very like..."did you think I would make a different choice FOR you if you come to me or do something knowing someone would aim to kill you for it"), when he kills someone purposefully, he doesn't really. care. when someone dies after doing a lot of shit that would cause anger and grief and whatnot he kind of sees it as just a consequence even if he is the one to exact that consequence. and he knows he is in charge of that choice with the power he has but his extent of investment is extremely pragmatic (it's either: if your victims want you dead, you die; or if you will continue to hurt others in some way—even just like, mentally by being alive— you die) he doesn't think of himself highly or badly for it he just thinks that's how it pans out.

obviously this is flawed because he takes the lives he thinks are so precious without much care & what little regret he does feel about it is because the spires DESPERATELY tried to keep him from ever having to kill someone (even though they knew before he did that he was responsible for the death of an imperial officer). he knows that they didn't want him to kill others out of love and worry for him and has always struggled to reconcile that with the fact that it just does not hurt him the way they expected it should or thought it should.

anyway he's weird internally sometimes. he does weigh lives individually is the weird part he will not kill "For The Greater Good" or as simply a means to an end. he will kill if he feels you've done something so wrong that you would cause more suffering by being alive than dead. and that's kind of a major difference between him and the scions is that he lacks the innate human hope that someone can change & in fact he does logically believe people can change he just doesn't consider it anyone's responsibility to wait for you to change at extreme cost. that automatic preciousness he feels for people is easily overturned if you threaten the lives of others unjustly and he becomes remarkably ruthless as a result. this does shift and change and meet with exceptions throughout the whole of msq and he starts questioning it more heavily at the end of shb when he's more like...self-actualized

[senjuushi]

What if the guns ended up with a master who’s really unstable? Like, they (the master) need to go to therapy a lot and break down really easily but they still do their best to be kind and as calm as possible around the guns? You can pick specific guns or just do a very generalised group thing but I’m curious to see how things would go O3O (I hope your reqs are still open too and I didn’t miss something,,, and sorry if this isn’t something you’re comfortable with either qwq)

No worries! Requests are pretty much always open here, and this one is just fine~ UwU 

I’m doing all of the guns in this one because the request is old and came before the rule, but for current requests, six characters maximum, please!

That Master is a mood, too

. . . 

F

Oh, he’ll happily volunteer himself as “stress relief”. If you want to use him to take out your feelings, go right ahead~ F is very aware of how unstable you are, and even though you’re usually so, so kind, he can’t help but anticipate things going exactly the way they did before. He’s a willing punching bag in the sense that he’s trained to enjoy it, so you could hurt him if it’d make you feel better. The reality is that F doesn’t want that at all, but he doesn’t know what else to do and feels as if that’s his only option for how to help. 

Belga

He really, really doesn’t get it. Belga is pretty stupid, especially when it comes to sensitive matters, so your mental health issues go right over his head. What’s likely to happen is that he’ll cause breakdowns, on accident, far more often than he should— and usually just by being insensitive or too rough. Belga doesn’t know how to do “gentle”, so he’s going to cause you a lot of stress. And honestly, his Master having so many issues makes him nervous. He always feels like he’s doing something wrong or bad. 

Mikhael

It makes him nervous. Mikhael understands that you’re trying your best to keep it together, but your breakdowns always leave him on edge. He feels as if he has to be very, very careful when he’s around you. Trying to keep your outbursts to a minimum is the best course of action, as is staying out of your way when there’s a risk of you lashing out. He’ll often offer to play piano for you as a calming tactic, and is reassured to some degree if you accept. You’re a kind Master, but he never knows what could happen. 

Ninety

Your instability stresses Ninety very badly. It’s not that he dislikes you or judges you for it, but he can’t help but feel as if he’s going to be the target of your unhappiness. Your breakdowns terrify him mostly because he’s expecting to be used to take out your stress. It’s what he’s used to, by this point. Even so, even when he’s literally shaking, Ninety will attempt to cuddle up to you whenever you’re upset or in tears. He wants to be good and comfort you, especially because you’ve always been so nice to him. 

Ghost

He has absolutely no idea what to do with someone so unstable. Ghost wants to be useful and be the one to comfort you and calm you down, but he doesn’t have a clue how to go about that. He’s so socially awkward and starved of interaction that the best he can offer are anxious pats on the back. When he’s around your breakdowns, he’s too nervous to even speak. Ghost loves you for your kindness and wishes more than anything that he could help. He’s always guilty and anxious when he “fails” to do so. 

89

Oh, he’s absolutely clueless on how to help. It makes 89 extremely anxious that you’re on the verge of a breakdown at any second, and he tends to avoid you when you’re in a dangerous mood just because he doesn’t know what to do. He’s unfortunately likely to say things that only make your breakdowns worse, so he learns quickly to just stay out of the way. He knows that you’re nice to all of them and harmless, but even so, it’s hard not to worry that your emotional upsets could turn into much worse things. 

Eins

He’s both useful and not. Eins is a very level-headed person who doesn’t get upset even when you’re in your worst moments. He also lacks empathy to a worrying degree and has no idea how to comfort people. He’s good at using logic to try to put your stress at ease, but this is also likely to come off as cold or uncaring when you’re in an emotional moment. The best that Eins can think to do for you is keep your triggers at bay and try to prevent upsets before they start. He never shows how nervous you can make him. 

Fal

He’s probably the best at dealing with this kind of thing. Fal is very good at staying calm and in control of his emotions, so he can at least keep it together and try to help you calm down. However, every time you start seeming unstable, he gets very, very anxious. You feel like a landmine to him— one that he needs to be exceptionally careful with, or risk getting hurt. Even though he knows you’re kind, Fal can’t shake the feeling that you’ll lash out during your outbursts in ways that won’t end well for him. 

Kirsch

His strategy for comforting you is to either come on to you or forcibly snuggle up and try to be affectionate. Whether this works or not, Kirsch doesn’t know what else to do. He longs to be the person that his precious Master goes to for comfort, but honestly, his methods are likely to do more harm than good. And yes, he’ll cry along with you whenever you get too upset— mostly because he’s scared and confused and doesn’t know what to do. He winds up feeling guilty and tense more often than not. 

Hokusai

When you’re having a difficult day, it’s a good idea to stay away from him. Hokusai is excitable, volatile, and rather insensitive even on his best days, so he’s not a good person to be around if you’re feeling fragile. That said, he’ll legitimately try to help you in whatever ways he can come up with. These usually involve offering you blue things that he thinks will make you happy. Hokusai doesn’t worry himself too much with your emotional state, but deep down, it does concern him that his Master is always unhappy. 

Love1

As someone who’s remarkably skilled at both understanding people and manipulating them, Love1 is very good at talking you down from bad moments and keeping you calm. Be it through making a fool out of himself to cheer you up or just offering genuine emotional support, he’s shockingly capable of handling your breakdowns. He understands that you’re not dangerous, even when you’re upset, and as such, does a better job than the rest of them at not expecting you to take your issues out on him. 

Like2

Yeah, he’s awful at comforting people. Like2′s best strategy is to buy you something nice and hope it works. Either that or offer himself for sex. He’s very stressed out by seeing you upset, mostly because he feels both supremely useless and like he’s a walking target for you to take things out on if he gets in your way or upsets you further. He’s visibly nervous when you’re acting fragile, stressed, or tense. Generally, as much as he hates being unable to do anything right, he avoids you when you’re having bad days. 

Mauser

He very much wants to help when you’re upset... but is also very bad at emotional comfort. Mauser is mostly the type to bring you things you need, stay by your side, and offer to eliminate anything that’s making you upset. He’s very attentive and willing to help but is so emotionless that his presence can also make things worse. Your general instability is something that he adjusts to quickly; it’s the way his Master is, which means that it’s his duty to learn how to best aid you and help you stay content and safe. 

[littlejanesilver]

The Human Experience (now with paragraph breaks!)

I know it’s not a popular ideology to have right now, because so much we see in the news appears to speak against it, but I think humans are basically an altruistic, cooperative species— with a few caveats. So many of our problems arise out of the fundamental mismatch between the world our species evolved to live in and the world we live in today. Empathy is a natural feature of the human experience. We teach our children positive prosocial behaviours like sharing their food and caring for others who are sick or hurt. We survive and build through cooperative behaviour. Kindness is instinctual and the instinct is reinforced through proper socialization. I’ve seen it in my children before they could even speak, trying to offer a pat on the back or comfort to a crying sibling. Normal, socialized humans feel physical and mental distress in ourselves when we see others in distress and are eager to alleviate it. The thing is human altruism, like that of other primates who live and hunt in groups is usually predicated on face to face personal relationships. It makes sense to share with others in your group when you have more than enough, because someday when they have more than enough they will be more likely to share with your. In humanity the ability to cooperate has been positively selected for through million of years of evolution. It makes sense that over the comparatively long human life span, where you might live in a tribe of 60 people, you would encounter the same members of your tribe over and over again and your prosocial actions would be remembered and influence their prosocial actions towards you further down the line. Our big brains are good for remembering and keeping score. Not to mention in such an environment, you would also probably be somewhat genetically related to your tribe-mates so helping your family members and tribe-mates survive also enhances the survival of your own genes. Among surviving hunter gatherer tribes it would be consider insane for one member to horde all the food while other members of the tribe starve. A person could be excluded from the group for behaviour like that and a human without other humans in nature does not survive for long. Being exiled from one’s tribe is a fate most will do anything to prevent. Also, in the hunter gatherer world, where people are nomadic, having a huge amount of one substance doesn’t make a lot of sense, because you can only own what you can carry with you. There are also no refrigerators, so if you have more food than you need, whatever you don’t eat will rot quickly. Human life in the prehistoric world could be extremely harsh. Few infants survived and giving birth was highly precarious. But when a member of your tribe was in distress, even without modern medicines you still had something you could do and that was offer comfort, through a hug, or helping with a task or offering food. In the world we live in now the instinct to share is sometimes short-circuited. Holding resources has been facilitated by inventions like fridges and silos to keep grain. People decide to keep resources to themselves and their families, because they often don’t see or can’t relate to the people their greed is harming. Executives of large companies never have to see their employees face to face, they don’t grow up with the people they employ (who nowadays may live in another country entirely), and there is no consequence to them for causing others to experience distress. Also there are so many thousands of employees that they become theoretical to the executives, rather than real flesh and blood people they have to live with on a day to day basis who will confront you if you treat themselves shitty and treat you badly right back. Also, if say a factory in another country is mistreating its workers and the factory makes clothes for your company (as well as other companies), there are so many culprits in the problem, front he managers of the factory itself, to the country it is in that allows lax labour laws, to the many companies that have this

factory make clothes for them, to the country the company is located in that makes it more worthwhile for them to hire foreign companies to make their clothes— that the individual executive sitting in an office somewhere is so far removed and their contribution is so diffuse among the many others in the process that he or she feels no shame. More importantly, that executives social group is unlikely to include members of the exploited class, so they will never be publicly shamed or held accountable in a social setting, which, let’s face it, is what keeps most of us honest, when the temptation to take more than our share is strong. The instinct to display compassion and show care for others, is also challenged in certain ways in a modern context. The instinct to display empathy and compassion is strongest for family members and extends to other tribe-mates in a healthy human being, across all cultures and settings. If you saw a loved one crying, you would naturally go up to them and put an arm around their shoulder and ask how you could help. The distress you feel at seeing another person in distress, would reduce, once you could offer them comfort. Feeling an arm around their shoulders, experiencing comforting touch also would help elevate your loved ones feelings of distress. As much as we hate feeling pain or distress, in us and seeing it in others, experiences like this help bond us to those we love. When a friend supports you through a tough time it can cause your friendship to deepen. It feels like a blessing to be able to offer them the same strength they offered you in return at a latter date. When I a can offer a listening ear to a friend’s complaint or be able to offer a pair of arms to hold a loved one who is crying, I feel the most human. Being together in this way with others, knowing that they are feeling what you are feeling and sharing in a moment, whether listening to music or experiencing a film together is so special and so inherently human. It is hard to explain, but there is a positive feeling that comes from when one is acting in accordance with one’s animal nature. The naturalness and lack of push-back your brain is giving you— like when you have really good sex or do a refreshing (not exhausting) physical workout that pushes you a bit, or stare in wonder at something in nature— this sense of doing what you were made for— what is most natural and human feels so wonderful and liberating. I feel that when I am concocting stories sometimes, this ability to be in the moment and intensely aware of what I am doing, fully experiencing it without being distracted by other worries or things going on in my mind. The problem as I see it is that we see so much distress around us that is taking place far away, across the globe and we can see the people’s faces in pain, but we have no ability to take that pain away or even offer the basic comfort our ape ancestors could, such as an arm around the shoulder or the offer of half a fruit. We can’t give them anything. Maybe we can donate money to an earthquake fund or something, but who knows if that money will even reach them and it won’t effect that specific person you see right now, on your screen. Maybe we don’t even have enough money to give a dollar to an earthquake fund and maybe the government of the country that suffering person is living in, is causing their suffering because it refuses offers from the international community to help (see North Korea). What do people do when they are constantly faced with the reality of thousands of people suffering who we can’t do anything to help? We evolved to deal with one or two people in our tribe suffering every once and a while. We evolved to feel pain ourselves at the suffering of someone and to be able to stop that pain by offering the other person comfort. But when you can’t offer meaningful, immediate comfort to another person in a personal way either through physical means or through helpful speech, what are you left with? For some people I feel like the result is a constant low-grade

(or sometimes high grade) anxiety, traumatic stress and depression. The tidal wave of suffering feels so great you are mentally drowning in it if you are the kind of person who experiences empathy for others very strongly. You might be motivated to participate in charities and social justice causes, but all the time, the satisfaction that should come from helping people is out of reach, the anxiety and sadness at other’s distress is still there because no matter what you do, with so many people in the world now, and with news from all corners of the globe constantly in our faces at every moment of the day, you just can’t help everyone. It isn’t possible. Long ago you would only be cognizant of the problems of people in your own little tribe. Dealing with their problems would be mentally manageable and might even benefit you and the other person and strengthen your relationships. Dealing with this tidal wave of billions of people’s problems is unmanageable and hugely distressing. We were not born with the mental equipment to deal with this and it is a huge problem. Avoiding it, in certain societies, to help lessen your stress is not even possible. Everywhere you look, TV screens, radios and newspapers are blaring the death tolls of the most recent atrocity. This media diet distorts your perception, because when all you hear about are huge horrific events, the regular day to day repetitive actions that occupy most of what people are doing all over the world, like today Soorya milked a goat or Bob picked his toddler up from daycare don’t make the news. Some day, I think the world will have to reckon with the mental health problems that this constant media diet of negative and fearful imagery causes humans who have no means to influence the distressing things that are mentioned. Obviously, it is important to know what is happening in the world in some sense, to hold governments accountable when they act in ways that harm people. However part of the problem is even when we see that unfairness is happening we don’t have the tools to help stop it or a deeper understanding of why problems are occurring and how we can help is left out of the reporting. This makes people feel helpless and out of control and it doesn’t help the people who are suffering in the end. Some people are able to deal with this constant exposure to suffering that we can’t help, through selectively turning their compassion and empathy faculties on and off. As someone who can’t do this on my own, I am constantly astounded to witness other people do this. Part of me is slightly jealous of this ability while part of me is highly suspicious of it. People who can do this, I’ve noticed can also be very reckless with others emotions if they believe a relationship with that other person doesn’t forward their own goals. There is something that feels lacking to me about a human that can operate in such a ruthless capacity, but these are also people who seem able to have a lot of success because their mental processes are so efficient with regards to empathy. People can often show great love and compassion for their family and friends, but have little to no compassion for people outside the group they qualify as their “tribe.” How modern people define tribe, as people who share the same religion, community, fan base, sexuality, ethnicity or even as narrowly as their own nuclear family can vary. But I would say the majority of humans display this ability to switch their empathy on and off depending on whether someone is considered part of their tribe or not. This is also, sad to say, a very human quality. In a world where your tribe was your survival, outside tribes who might steal your resources, or kill or steal members of your tribe were far more dangerous than wild beasts you might encounter. I was bullied pretty harshly as a kid and I still maintain that the whole in-group/out-group dialectic that is such a part of human experience is one of the ugliest facets of human nature there is. Most disturbing of all, it is not contrary to human

nature, as most anti-social behaviours seem to be coded as, but is often seen as positive with no social costs in-group. A person who shows altruism and fealty to their own group can show the worst sadism and cruelty to out-group members without the corresponding social penalties they would face if they were to behave the same way in their own group. There is a reason in the Torah there are numerous directives “to love the stranger as yourself” and to “be kind to the stranger” and other lessons about hospitality to people who aren’t from your town because they might be (in Abraham’s case) angelic messengers. If everybody treated strangers and out group members the same as they treated their family members there wouldn’t be so much advice about showing hospitality to those unlike ourselves. The instinct of “stranger danger” is high in human beings and starts before we can talk. Studies done with pre-verbal human infants show that when confronted with two different strangers, one who speaks their own language and one who talks a different language, the infants shunned the foreign language speaking individual more than the person who talked their own language, even if they couldn’t talk or even fully understand that language yet themselves! The corresponding instinct of curiosity in some of us and eagerness to find out and know about something outside our own experience is thankfully, a good check to the stranger-danger feeling in some of us. Sadly, the stranger-danger instinct can get stronger as people get older and lose some of their mental flexibility and the world also changes a lot from the world they grew up in. If you aren’t mindful of that tendency of the human brain, then you can get caught up in thinking that all the changes are bad and threatening and feel fearful and angry at the world as you get older. Also, the more adverse experiences you have with other people, the more they seem to trail after you as you get older, colouring your ability to trust others and harming your interpersonal relationships if you’re not careful. While it may be more mentally healthy to only extend your empathy to members of your own group, feel like society as a whole suffers tremendously when we do this. We don’t live in isolated tribes anymore. Even if the effects are not apparent to us, our actions do effect the lives of other people, sometimes far away. We need new ways and new transparency laws to let us understand what the costs to others of the goods we purchase are, where they come from and what sort of labour conditions those goods are sourced under. We also need more alternatives to buy ethically, that are within most people’s budgets. Having the choice between ethically sourced goods that cost way more than a normal family can afford and goods sold in stores that only offer part-time jobs and starvation wages to their employees that utilize slave labour in other countries for manufacturing doesn’t really offer a choice. If you don’t have a lot of money you can’t afford to be ethical, which seems wrong. How come I can get a food item at the store and every single ingredient that went into it is listed on the back of the package, but how the item was made, where and with what sort of labour is left out? As a consumer we should be afforded the ability to make ethical purchases. There should be some sort of international independent organization with actual teeth that oversees labour practices across the world and gives companies letter grades and provides this information to the consumer with every purchase. It should be a reliable independent source for the consumer that tells us whether a purchase is helping to perpetuate positive or negative work conditions around the world. Companies that have the best conditions should be rewarded and companies that have the worst should be shut down. Getting everyone on board with the philosophy that humans are all part of one tribe is crucial to improving all our lives. If all children can be taught, from the earliest days that we are all one tribe and that

we are all deserving of love and compassion and the means of survival things will probably improve. As long as people continue to believe in in-group/out-group philosophies that see their own group as some sort of master race or chosen people and everyone else as inferior or misguided and not worthy of the same kind of empathy reserved for members of one’s own tribe— humanity will not grow. Accepting the fact that we are all animals, members of the same species and the same planet, which we have to take care of together is crucial. I’ve lived on Lake Erie and Lake Ontario for most of my life. For those who don’t know both these lakes are partially in the U.S. and partially in Canada and proved most of the water and electricity for the communities around the lakes like Toronto and Hamilton in Canada and Buffalo and Rochester in the U.S and Niagara Falls in both countries. Canada and the U.S. in the past have had different laws governing heavy industry on the lakes. But this is ridiculous, because if a company pollutes on one side of the lake, it automatically causes pollution on the other side as well. Right now countries are acting like the laws they make regarding pollution, labour, immigration and countless other things only affect their own country, when the reality couldn’t be further from the truth. We don’t live in isolated tribes anymore. Every human community is touching countless other communities. We didn’t evolve to live or think this way, but if there’s one thing we humans have mastered, it’s how to adapt. We can adapt to this new world and thinking in a new way about each other and our planet— but we have to stop seeing ourselves as isolated groups and start thinking of the big picture. In this world where our edges all touch each other, we have to be especially cognizant to live peacefully and try to do everything in our power to avoid violence wherever possible. To use a metaphor, you never know how the pollution you dump one one side of the lake will effect a baby yet to be born on the other side of the lake. If there is another choice, even if that choice is just to pause and consider what this action might achieve or to really grapple seriously with the harm it might cause, regardless of whether it is “right” or “deserved.” Make the choice to think before you act. Listen to what other people are feeling who aren’t from your in-group. Even if you don’t agree with them, how can you ever convince them, if you don’t try to understand where they are coming from? More than anything right now I think we need dialogue, not knee jerk reactions. We need nuance, deeper understanding than 150 character soundbites and the ability to listen to each other and the skill of trying to slow down our minds. It is easy to act on anger, greed or fear if you don’t see the people who your actions effect. But we have many tools in our communication arsenal for communicating how we feel to other people and trying to get them to make change. Violence should be very last resort of all the last resorts, not the go-to option. We have to act in accordance with the world we want to live in, in the future, a world that has room for all people. There is no shortage of money, food or land on this planet if we all only take what we need and share with each other. The withholding of these things from others and obscene accumulation of resources for oneself and ones family is not admirable. It is a demonstration of selfish antisocial behaviour and should be seen as such by our society. How our words and actions serve ourselves, our loved ones and the human tribe as a whole and its future existence on this Earth is worth considering.

[furiousgoldfish]

Recognizing abusive friendship is really hard once you get invested. I've been in so many and I still never recognize it when it starts. Abusers looking for targets will aim at someone who's generally not very-well accepted in their community, struggles with isolation and desire to be acknowledged, is lonely or desperate for friends, because it's easy to make someone believe they got something they desperately want to have.

They will share your interests and opinions, immediately have tons in common with you, make fun, engaging, supportive coversations, tell you stories that make them look good and sweet, make you feel safe and like you have a real chance in having a best friend in them. They will also want to test your compassion by revealing some vulnerabilties and painful events, to see if you will rush to comfort them and try to make them feel better. Once they know enough about you to use your weak spots against you, and to always be able to play the victim and make you feel sorry for them when they hurt you, it's a game of time - either you will eventually realize this person has no empathy for you and is willing to put you thru horrible shit and feel nothing about it, or they will take the last piece of your energy and patience they can and then abandon you brutally, when you need them the most. They will of course, frame it as your fault, because how could you expect them to be your friend.

I'll try to list some of the things I've noticed repeat in abusive friendships:

1. Lack of boundaries. This person will find one way or another to have problem with your boundaries, they might act like your boundaries are hurting them, or criticize you for "not trusting them" or "not caring for them enough" if you want to keep some things private. They will also make you feel like taking distance and space from them is hurting them, and act as if it's an act of aggression or betrayal, and you were supposed to be there for them at all times.

2. Very fast progression. They will want to have won you over in shortest amount of time possible, so they could start getting what they want. They could start acting very affectionate, as if you're already close for a long time, reveal too intimate, too vulnerable details about themselves, and get you to do the same, talk as if they already know all about you, or plan things as if it's already settled that you'll be friends for a long time. They will convince you that they're a perfect person for you right away, and you're the perfect person for them.

3. Feelings of obligation. You feel as if you're the only one who can help this person, only one who they trust to never abandon them. You feel as if you lead this person on to rely on you, to count on your friendship, and you cannot bring yourself to take this away from them. You are the only one who knows how hard they're struggling, how badly they need your help and friendship, and it feels like they're always in some kind of a crisis and desperately in need of you. Even when they hurt you, you feel obligated to care about their situation more than yourself, and put your own feelings in the back to focus on what they're going thru.

4. Fear of being the bad friend. You've heard so much about how others have hurt this person, and you grow scared that you'll become one of those bad people. After comforting this person about their bad experiences, it would feel really bad to cause them another one, and make you look like a hypocrite. It gets so bad that you have to watch out what to say, how to put boundaries, and how to call them out on anything, out of fear that you will hurt them, they seem too fragile and too easily hurt to ever be able to handle even an implication that they're doing you wrong. In the end, you let them get away with anything, convincing yourself they would never be doing it on purpose, and finding yourself unable to let them know out of fear that it would hurt them. If you do tell them, you end up having to listen about how bad they felt about having to hear it.

5. You can't live up to their standards. This person has expectations of you, and if you fail them even a little, there's consequences, and you might find yourself at the receiving end of criticism, verbal abuse, insults, humiliation and blame. There's a narrow frame of who you're allowed to be and how you're supposed to act and feel, and you're not allowed to exist outside these criteria, and you can tell that your friend will either hurt or abandon you completely if you grow and branch out beyond what's acceptable for them. You end up fretting their backlash at any risky action you take, and end up hiding your opinions and general state of mind just to stay safe. You might end up changing for them, subtly, and feeling constant anxiety that they will abandon you if you don't act as required. (Just to be clear, standards of "no racism, no homophobia, no sexism, no trashing minorities, no supporting dictatorships, and being against rape, fascism and genocide" are good standards. All of you should be having those standards. Bad standards are about how you look, what you weigh, what grades you have, how much you earn, how much abuse can you take without breaking, how much shit can you tolerate, which ones of your interests are good, what you're allowed to feel and talk about - nobody should be inflicting those on you. None of that is for your own good.)

6. There are repeating periods of good and bad times. Even abusive friendships can have periods where everything seems just fine, calm, your friend is in a good mood, so you are allowed to be in a good mood as well, you get to have fun and you start to forget there ever was a time when this friendship made you feel awful. These periods are essential for keeping up the friendship, because any person would get away from a friend who made them feel horrible at all times, and abusers know this, and make sure you get nice and relaxed before they decide it's safe to lash out at you, or throw another crisis at you. Friendships are not supposed to have intense ups and downs, they're supposed to be your refuge, your safe place where you can count on things remaining stable.

7. You are getting stressed, insecure, upset and sad. Friendships should not make you feel this way. Of course, there's always a possibility in long term friendships that something happens that gets you upset once or twice, but a new friendship, short friendship or any friendship should never be able to cause you repeated stress, pain, insecurity and drama. If a friend is cause of all these feelings, it is very likely they don't have compassion for you, and don't actually care what kind of effect they're having on your life - which means they're not your friend. Actual friend would care deeply about what they're causing you, and would go far to avoid making you stressed, upset and sad - after all, don't you make sure you're not making their life filled with stress and anxiety?

8. Your instincts are telling you something is wrong. You might be getting surges of anger or feel trapped and repressed, you might notice you're not able to express how you feel, and always have to play down your reactions and responses, you don't feel free to take your time for yourself as you'd want to, you always feel guilty or like you failed your friend, and you know this is not how a friendship should make you feel. Still, you feel a lot of affection and care for this person so you can't just walk away from them, even if things do feel wrong, and you want to give it another chance or wait to see if it gets better, so you bear with it and try to ignore your instincts, at least for a while, because the alternative has became scary for you.

9. You're scared to leave. Even when you realize this friendship is adding stress and pain onto your life, and that it's became toxic for you, leaving it becomes a big, almost impossible task. You're worried about how your friend will cope, how will they react if you tell them, if there will be backlash, if they'll be in the middle of crisis and you'll add onto that stress, if they will start insulting you and telling you that you're just as bad as anyone else in their life, if they'll badmouth you to other people, and worst of all, you're worried if you would deserve all that by leaving the friendship. And no, you wouldn't. You don't have to nurture anyone who hurts you, and you're allowed to walk away from anything that harms your life.

 If you thought of someone while reading this, I hope you will know that you have the right to be upset with this person, regardless of weather it would hurt or upset them. You have the right to consider that maybe this person isn't the ideal friend for you, and that you don't owe them your friendship no matter how obligated they make you feel.

I need to mention that you don't have to prove or know that someone is abusive in order to cut them out of your life. There are bad friendships that aren't abusive, sometimes two people just don't mix well and if supporting one person is harming another, that's not working out well, and shouldn't continue. You have the right to demand only good friendships, only positive ones, that bring warmth and care to both you and your friend. You don't have to struggle thru bad ones, you don't owe anyone to make their life better at your own expense. Needing different type of friend is reason enough. There are friendships that are good for both people, and that's the only type you should strive for.

[codenamesazanka]

A meta about Dabi! I surprise myself; but HUGE DISCLAIMER: Dabi is still not a favorite character at all, and I am biased as hell. This is my interpretation of events. I will not be reading his behavior as if he is without doubt Touya Todoroki - that’s not at all confirmed - and so I will be less sympathetic due to not coming from that perspective. Also, extremely long meta. 

First up: I’ll take Dabi for his word that he doesn’t gave a crap about the League. 

I’m not saying he absolutely does not have a single milligram of care for the League - he does seem to rely on and intend for them to provide support for his goal; but he’s very much detached from everyone else, and haven’t demonstrated much empathy for any member of the League. Not quite part of the ‘Found Family’. 

It’s very possible that he could be lying, trying look tough in front of the Hero. 

But the evidence from the past chapters kinda shows that he means his words. Here’s him burning away Twice clones and barely avoid hitting Real!Twice:

“He never actually hit Twice,” “He had no choice cuz Hawks was right there,’ ‘He knew those aren’t the real Twice, and what do you expect? He’s a villain, and he expects his teammates to take care of themselves.”(*1)

All fair! Still, I’ll say this attack is pretty careless; and moreover, it took away some of their much needed manpower. Two Twice clones could’ve created four more Twices and so on; and at the very least might have interfered with Hawks targeting the real Twice. 

And here’s him attacking Hawks in a way that would’ve burned Twice badly. 

Images are out of order, my apologies, but these panels show that 1) Dabi had really intended to hit Hawks (and Twice), what with him being shocked that Hawks had been able to evade the attack; 2) Dabi’s fire output was very strong, and so 3) as Hawks points out, he nearly burned up Twice. 

Even if he thought that Hawks would protect Twice, that’s still quite a risky move that would’ve badly injure a fellow League Member. 

Here’s a comparison of Dabi and Mr. Compress during the battle in Deika:

In the first image, after Mr. Compress ask for help, Dabi dismisses him. Sure, he does point out the Twice clones shortly after, but it cold enough that Mr. Compress even asks, ‘Are you so unfeeling?!’. 

Meanwhile, when it’s Dabi in danger, Mr. Compress is concerned for him, wishes to help, and yeah, that ‘Poor Dabi!’ 

All throughout My Villain Academia, he’s been pretty rude and aloof from everyone:

Refusing to help fight Gigantomachia (to go recruit a Hero that he never trusted in the first place) when everyone is ready to eat cold dirt for a month and a half with Shigaraki. 

And:

Dismissing everyone’s effort, and insulting them. 

In fact, in comparison to everyone else in the League, Dabi is really lacking. We all know Twice is a total sweetheart who would do anything for the League; Spinner is canonically in love with Shigaraki explicitly stated that his goal is to help Shigaraki realize his vision (Chapter 233). Toga showed her care for Twice during the Overhaul mess (Chapter 148). And Mr. Compress, again, was worried for Dabi (Chapter 230), wanted the Doc to help Shigaraki (238), and is in general genial towards his teammates. 

I think, overall, narratively in both writing and visuals, Dabi is written to be rather unlikeable to the reader (or at least neutral). 

My Villain Academia is the arc where the League are the protagonists, the Point-of-View characters: we hear their thoughts, and we learn their backstories.

A huge messy image! I’m sorry! But from the silly faces, to the little actions (Mr. Compress whispering, complete with ‘psst psst’), to the asides (Mr Compress, again, “Where did you pull that phone out of?”), these give us a bit of funny moments that kinda endears the League to us. (Even Giran gets a moment or two.)

Not quite Dabi though. We get a glimpse of his thoughts at the beginning of Chapter 228 when he encounters Geten, we have some interactions with Twice that are humorous (though it’s Twice carrying out the majority of it), and... that’s it. 

“What about Mr. Compress? We got no backstory.”; “What about Toga? We don’t really hear her thoughts either?” Yes to all those points, but these were made up for: as shown above, Mr. Compress having those little moments; and Toga, who already demonstrated her care for Twice in the Overhaul Arc, and we’re reminded of that directly when Twice brings out the handkerchief she gave him. 

There, of course, is that moment that he goes to attack Hawks and help Twice in Chapters 264-266. Good of him, right? Heroic, even. 

Except that 'rescue’ doesn’t really give it a feeling of ‘The Calvary Has Arrived!’. IMO. For one thing, he almost burned Twice. For another, the reaction from Twice is more desperate than relief or joy. Compare with Toga and Mr. Compress’s clear utter joy at being saved by Twice. 

(And no could forget those amazing spreads of Twice overcoming his trauma and unleashing Sad Man’s Parade? Those evokes such a feeling of “THE CALVARY IS HERE”, omg. Dabi’s flame entrance is not quite. *To me* )

I would even go as far to say as Dabi is being portrayed as a possible “third party” antagonist. 

Yes, the League are already the main antagonists in the overall story, but they’re quite sympathetic-- Dabi, in relation to the League, although being a member, is the odd one out in many aspects. 

I think the recent chapters with Twice and Hawks and Dabi illustrates this really well-- Because we go from [Twice vs Hawks] with Hawks as the POV ‘bad guy’; and now we have [Hawks vs Dabi], Dabi as the bad guy. The story writing and the art shifts immediately to portray that, aimed at directing our empathy, at the character Horikoshi wants us to root for. 

In Chapter 264 and 265, no doubt we’re to root for Twice. All those flashbacks! Him cowering on the ground. His heart breaking because he trusted Hawks. We feel for him. And so Hawks is portrayed as the ‘Villain’-- but not completely. 

For Hawks, we go from dark and menacing, him being looming and scary...then immediately move to seeing Hawks expression of remorse. Horikoshi wants us to understand Hawks is conflicted. And he’s not doing this for fun. And finally, they’re shown as equals in the fight: Twice and Hawk’s faces aligned at even levels. 

Chapter 266, we finally have the three together. Most definitely, Dabi is on Twice’s side - but like I said, it’s not actually showing Dabi as a reliable backup. 

Then we get to Chapter 267. We first start off with that cute image if the Fataxi. It’s adorable. Then Tokoyami notices the flames, the flying, putting two and two together. This positions them as sorta the main focus. We’re back in the Heroes’ POV. 

Moving onto the fight, I do sense anger from Dabi: the flames, the stomping, the stomping flames. But it’s more portrayed as manic, sadistic anger, instead of grief, vengeful anger. And that smile! 

It’s a true villain smile. The stretching of the corners of the mouth, and the way the eyes are curved. Joyful smiles tightens up the eyes. And sure, you can have a contradictory smile while angry and in grief, a grimace, but there’s other things to cue at that - tears, sweat drops, the eyes again - usually big and triangular. 

Do I think it’s possible he’s smiling contradictory? That he’s feeling real sadness and anger at Twice’s death? Yeah, it’s possible. But it’s also possible he isn’t - and I feel that’s the more likely option, given all he says about Twice being useful and about Stain’s philosophy (*remember Stain didn’t like Shigaraki! he didn’t like Villains either. He was going to purge the world of both.) 

Anyways, Hawks is right there, on the ground, trying to shield himself. It’s a pitiful look. He’s clearly drawn as the victim we’re to emphasize with, because this doesn’t look like a fight between equals. Just one guy playing with the other, having the ability to incinerate him immediately, but dragging it out.

(True, Dabi’s a villain, and-- “Didn’t Shigaraki do the same thing? With Overhaul? Dude chopped off limbs and laughed.” Yes! Absolutely. But Chapter 160 was from the League’s POV, and everything about it was to position the League as winners, badasses, ‘The Next’.)

(My god, we even get a Baby Hawks flashback for us to fawn over.) 

Here, it’s Hawk’s POV and Dabi is full Villain imagery. Hawks has to looking up from a protective pose - at a very menacing Dabi, looming over, stepping on him. The panels with the outside fighting and the city, linked with Dabi smiling - that’s classic {‘I’m going to target and hurt the world’ evil mastermind monologue, insert evil laughter}. 

Once Tokoyami enters the scene, there’s no more argument. A likeable Hero student? Arriving to protect his mentor? He’s the clear Hero we’re to cheer for, against Dabi, (who we never even get to bond with during MVA... unlike Twice). 

All in All, Dabi rejects the Heroes... and he also rejects the League. 

The thing that confuses me most about this whole arc so far is “Why the fuck did Dabi recruit Hawks?” He said he knew Hawks was lying from the start, but he still let a Hero into the club. Moreover, if Dabi noticed and knew enough to guess where Twice and Hawks is the moment the Hero attack started; if he knew enough to even think “This isn’t your fault, Twice,” then why didn’t Dabi do anything sooner?

We don’t know his specific goal yet. Did Hawks factor into it in an important way? He’s willing to kill Hawks right now. It could be that Hawks, by now, is more dangerous than he is worth as a trap for the heroes, say, so it’s time to cut some losses. 

But Hawks had pretty much only brought bad luck for Villains: Made Endeavor look good; found out about the MLA and discovered their plot; discovered the hospital; set up this attack. None of it furthers Dabi’s stated goal to Kill All Heroes, and none of it helps the League either.

Until we get his gameplan, I can honestly regard him as dumb. What is this series of events???

(Even if the other League Members were to be dumb and fuck up like Dabi, we know they did it with good intentions for Shigaraki, for the League. 

Toga, doing risky things: Literally said, “I’m sure [retrieving Deku’s blood, betraying the Hassaikai] will make Tomura happy.” 

Twice, the sweetheart: recruited Overhaul cuz he thought he was a good guy. Befriended Hawks because he thought Hawks believed in the cause.  

Mr. Compress: Kinda ruined the ‘kidnap Bakugou’ thing; but since then he hasn’t done anything. And we’re sure of his sincerity because: Lost an arm, still stayed with the League, fought for a month+ with a broken prosthetic.

Spinner: Was a Stain fanboy, but has stopped.) 

“This isn’t your fault, Twice,” and it’s true. It’s not Twice’s fault at all. It’s Dabi’s. The blame has to be on Dabi. 

-

So. Dabi. Looking more and more to be on neither side, and now having wronged both. What’s gonna happen to him? 

Not sure, but I’ve got a theory he might actually be killed by Shigaraki, to develop Shigaraki and the League. But that’s for another post. 

-

(*1) “...what do you expect? He’s a villain, and he expects his teammates to take care of themselves.” Also true. And I am aware that Shigaraki did the same thing when he decayed that tower no knowing whether Giran got rescued yet or not, so there was some callousness there. But consider: one guy had been so sleep-deprived for one and a half months that he had hallucinated slightly and was wobbling with each movement; and the other has not. 

-

All this is my opinion and impressions. Sorry if it’s unclear at points. Thanks for reading!!!!! And thank you so much to friends that helped me brainstorm and discuss this! Your contributions are invaluable. 

[theshopkeepofremnant]

For JanuRWBY day 19, I present (sort of) a missing scene. I wrote this a while ago; it’s my take/expansion on what Yang went through after the Fall of Beacon. I would say enjoy, but it’s admittedly kind of heavy...

I’m not dead. Part of Yang knew this was an odd assertion to need to make regularly, yet it was one she found that came to her mind unbidden most days. It wasn’t something she used to do before. Before everything had changed such a thought would have made her laugh at its melodrama, would leave her shaking her head and wondering where such nonsense had come from. But that was before her world came crashing down. Yang rarely laughed now, and certainly not at that thought. Where once the spark of her life was undeniable, a thing of such heat and intensity that people often commented that the room felt a few degrees warmer when she entered, now she struggled to find evidence that her body had ever held such a spark at all. In that absence, a reminder was needed to ensure that Yang kept going through the motions of life. In part this was for her dad; he would see her moving around and putting on the facade of a living person so he would feel reassured that she was healing. This was pure farce, but the part of Yang still capable of caring didn't want to cause him any more harm than necessary. Beyond that was habit; years of tending to the endless needs of a mortal body had carved grooves into Yang’s mind deep enough that even her current malaise couldn’t erase. In death, Yang would be free of the Sisyphean task of bodily maintenance, but for better or worse she was stuck with it for now. Thus the reminder. Not exactly a mantra, certainly not a defiant declaration, simply a statement of truth. At first, she had felt like she was answering a question, a plea, but that puzzle belonged to memories too delicate to explore, so it was quickly dropped. Regardless, the statement had taken on a meaning of its own through repetition. Some days she tried to use it as motivation to pick up the shattered pieces of her life and body, to attempt to put them back together into some semblance of a living person, to move on. Those were the good days. Most days, like today, it was merely a fact, empty of joy or sorrow. Today was not a day where she made her declaration aloud. Today it was merely the whisper of a thought. Intentionally formed but lacking the momentum to make it to her lips as she let out a long exhalation. She noticed herself doing that a lot. It wasn’t a sigh. There was nothing wistful in it, no emotional release. It was just a realization that she was holding her breath. Waiting. Not ready for the next to come and signal that the world was still spinning and nothing she did could stop it. She let go of that train of thought. Today was a normal day, normal by her new standards anyhow, and she didn’t want to ruin that. While days like today weren’t worth celebrating they were important not to waste. For there were days when she worried about herself. Days when she felt bitterness and inertia build inside her and in an attempt to fight it off she would take a breath and say it: “I’m not dead.” And all she heard was disappointment. No. Today was not one of those days. She’d had so many of those right when she got to Patch and so many more right after Ruby had left. But Ruby was long gone, and Yang...well Yang was still here. Best not to dwell on the dangers real and imagined Ruby may be facing while Yang struggled to simply exist. There was nothing she could do about them anyway, not anymore. She had always done her best to protect Ruby, to protect her team. Look how that had turned out. No, no dwelling. Not today. Too easy for a day like today to head in the wrong direction. Too easy for memories to drag her down like anchors to the depths of her mind. A place once filled with light and easily navigated, perhaps with a shadow or two on the fringes but nothing fearsome or dangerous, it was now a place she hardly recognized. It stretched infinitely in every direction, an ocean with a capricious sky and no sign of safe haven on any horizon. Even in times of stillness, there was a constant tension, an anticipation of the gentle breeze growing to become a gale as the gray clouds quickly swirled to black and for the momentary respite to be lost in the crash of thunder and waves. Yet the ever-changing surface was not the worst of it.  The true danger lay below those swirling waters as barely seen shadows; leviathans prowling the deep, waiting for her to descend to their realm, knowing that she would find her way there eventually. If not during her waking hours then inevitably during her fitful sleep. Their siren song was at once terrifying and terribly seductive, and Yang did her best to ignore the promise of pain so intense it could bring oblivion. No. Consciously unclenching her hand, realizing that the life raft it sought was not in her bed, Yang forced herself to get up and get dressed. Yang had always enjoyed mornings, before. The air felt fresh and the light seemed purer, there was so much potential. Nightfall was all about endings, conclusions, but mornings were about beginnings. Or at least, they used to be. Now there was just nothing, day bleeding into tortuous night fading back into another identically empty day. All of her beginnings apparently behind her. Yang let out yet another held breath, tied back her hair, and padded out of her room. As she passed Ruby’s door she couldn’t help but feel an ember of shame smoldering in her chest. She still didn’t know if she had done the right thing. She had known Ruby was going, she even took it upon herself to hide it from Tai while Ruby was very unsubtly planning it. At first, she didn’t know quite why she was helping. She certainly didn’t think it was a good idea, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to let it fall apart. Eventually, she realized it was guilt. Not guilt over not going with her. As far as Yang could see those days were over. No, it was guilt at her own seething anger. Deep down, in that place that she didn’t want to recognize as her own, was pure, raw fury at those around her who could just keep living as though nothing had happened. How dare Ruby and the others go off on this quest, full of hope and light, like the world wouldn’t do everything it could to smother that... But Yang couldn’t let herself act on that dark emotion. She couldn’t be spiteful, even then. So maybe she overcompensated. Maybe the right thing to do would have been to let Ruby’s machinations fail, let Tai find out and put a stop to it before it got out of hand, got her hurt. But she couldn’t give into that petty part of her that wanted Ruby to fail, so she hid the coming and going of letters, concealed the very obvious supplies Ruby was collecting, and quietly made sure her little sister would keep that innocent hope for a little longer. Yang may not have felt that hope herself, but she would be damned if she let that darkness inside snuff it out in Ruby. Unfortunately, keeping the monsters at bay had used up so much of her meager store of energy, once so vast she could hardly contain it, that Yang failed in the most basic ways. She was distant, cold, hardly acknowledging either Ruby or Tai during that time. Part of her knew that, but she thought that her efforts should speak for themselves. That she was up and moving at all seemed such a miracle to her that it never occurred to her that those around her would be hurt by her seeming indifference. Yang still regretted that time. Still regretted not telling Ruby that she still loved her, still cared. But she had been so tired at the time, so weighed down by all that had happened, all that now would never happen, that she just couldn’t muster the will to say the words. She hoped her deeds, meager as they were, would speak for themselves. Empathy is so hard when one’s heart is consumed by pain, and Yang had been blinded by pain in all of its forms to the point where she didn’t know how to navigate even this relationship, the most stable she had known in her entire life. So instead of satisfaction that she helped her sister toward her goals, she was left with this shame. Shame at letting her go alone, shame at wanting her to succeed. Shame at wanting her to fail, to come back, defeated. To keep her company in her misery. Yang shook her head, trying to pull herself to the present, tenuous as her grasp on it was. Ruby was gone now, no amount of shame would change that, and it certainly wouldn’t bring her back. That left Tai. Yang felt a fresh wave of guilt every time she thought of her father, once among her closes confidants he now seemed utterly lost faced with the walls Yang had erected around herself. He had never had to deal with defenses before and found himself without any tools to overcome them now. Yang had always intentionally promoted a “what you see is what you get” narrative with most people; obviously there was more below the surface but she found others were more comfortable around her if they thought she was simple, one dimensional and symmetrical. Her dad actually saw her, the real her, so with him, it was the truth that she was what he saw, and Yang always appreciated how easy it was to be herself around him. Ever since she was a teenager and she and Tai had grown close enough that she never bothered with walls or masks, she just told him what was going on inside. Part of her felt bad when she saw his look of pained confusion now when she shut him out; he wanted so badly to help fix his broken daughter, but couldn’t even get close enough to try. The connection that he was so used to simply wasn’t there, and there was about as much hope of fixing that as the CCT network. Part of Yang wanted to console him, to apologize for putting him through this torture rather than letting him patch up her wounds like he would a skinned knee when she was a kid. But another part, that dark pit of rage and hurt, was all too happy to cause misery. She tried to crush those emotions deep within her; tried to compensate as she had with Ruby, but it wasn’t enough. Tai didn’t want anything from her, nothing concrete. He just wanted to help her, but she couldn’t bring down the walls, so he was stuck at arm’s reach. So close but so impossibly far away, and Yang was alone. Alone with her grief, with her darkness, but most of all, alone with her pain. —— Pain. That was the first thing she was aware of when she regained consciousness that night. Pain so extreme she couldn’t locate its source. All-consuming, nerve-rending pain. It was only when she tried to curl up in a ball and felt a weird sense of asymmetry did she look down and to her right. What she saw wouldn’t register as real for several days and at the time she had larger concerns. She looked around frantically and saw chaos. People ran in all directions, loading survivors onto airships that were being brought in from all directions. She looked for her team, her teachers, anyone who could tell her what had happened; if everyone had made it. She didn’t understand how she had come to be here alone, and through the fog of pain could swear that her left hand felt warm, that the air around moved as though filling a void that was occupied but moments ago, echoes of tearful apologies ringing in her ear, of a single pleading command issued from a delicate mouth beneath golden eyes: “You...you can’t die. You can’t.” But those impressions were dim, and the fierce pain from her arm wouldn’t allow her to escape the immediacy of the moment, try as she might.  So instead she searched the chaos around her for a lifeline, anything familiar. It wasn’t long before she saw a shock of blonde hair and realized Sun was striding past where she lay in a makeshift cot, looking about frantically. She reached out with her left, and now only, arm and grabbed his hand, apparently more forcefully than she intended as it nearly took him off his feet. “Where’s Blake?” Yang said through gritted teeth, every motion a fresh agony. Time slowed as Yang watched emotions flash across Sun’s face: surprise, grief, fear, and resignation. Had she known what was coming next she would have savored this moment, pain and all. For though every movement was excruciating, though she had lost so much, hope still burned bright in her chest. “How are you even conscious Yang? You should rest, they’re going to get you on a ship and take you home to...” “WHERE. IS. BLAKE?!” The last was said through gritted teeth as Yang pulled Sun down until his face was inches from her own. She knew that Sun could answer the question, that he was trying to dodge. While part of her was terrified of the answer that guttering spark of hope flickered on. The last thing she had seen before passing out was red. The red flames dancing through the building where she had heard Blake cry out, the red hair of that demon from Blake’s past, his red blade extending from Blake’s torso. She had never felt a rage like that, and through that crimson haze barely even saw him move, didn’t register the severing of her own limb or spilling of her own blood. All she knew was that she was failing, falling. As her whole world came crashing down she found herself in a pool of blood, both hers and Blake’s, with the terrible knowledge that they were going to die and it was her fault. But she was here, alive, so there was more to the story. As she stared at Sun she was certain that Blake’s death would elicit a different response. He would have just told her, right? He’d be heartbroken, a mess, barely able to hold it together. Sun’s feelings for Blake were no secret and he had never concealed a thought in his entire life, so why this hesitation? “She left.” Sun looked stricken, and not solely on his own behalf, Yang could almost see herself reflected back in Sun’s face, could feel her light going out. “...What?” “Once she saw that you were ok, she got patched up and then took off before I could stop her. I don’t know where yet, I’m sorry.” Yang tried to press him further but the blood loss was finally catching up with her. She tried to formulate a thought, anything, but it was all so much, too much. As she lost her grip on consciousness she felt her soul shatter, making a mockery of her body’s condition; her last little spark of hope remaining flickered and went dark along with everything else. ——

The time following was all fractured images and too-loud noises. People coming and going seemingly at random. What seemed like moments after Sun had left but could have easily been years Qrow found Yang, and gently laid a frail girl in a red hood on the cot next to hers. It took Yang a moment to recognize her own sister. It had been so long since she had thought of her like this; for the past few years Yang had seen her grow into an impressive warrior, and seeing her laying so still and quiet reminded Yang that she was still a child, that they all were. Or had been, at least. Yang looked imploringly at Qrow. “Is she...?” She left the question hanging in the air, unable to finish it. Qrow reached out and rested his hand on Yang’s left shoulder, trying not to let her see him inspecting her right side. “She’s ok, you know how tough she is. How are you holding up, firecracker?” The look in his eyes was too much for Yang, she couldn’t answer truthfully and couldn’t bring herself to lie. The pity she saw there ate at her, and she looked away. “What’s going to happen?” was all she could manage. Qrow sighed,  saddened but also slightly relieved to not talk about the goliath in the room. “I’m taking you and Ruby home to recover, there should be an airship available to take us out soon.” “What about Weiss?” Yang asked, noting the odd look in Qrow’s eye. “Her father’s airship is on approach, he’s taking her back to Atlas while things get sorted out in Vale. On our way over here I could have sworn I saw your other teammate in the crowd...” “I only asked about Weiss” Yang cut in. Somehow, despite the copious blood loss her temper still managed to flair enough for her eyes to flash briefly red. “Ok kiddo. I’m going to step out for a bit to check on some things, I’ll be back when it’s time to get you two on board” Some time later Weiss came in and roused Yang. She kept looking over her shoulder as though she wasn’t supposed to be there and despite her best efforts couldn’t stop a renegade tear from sneaking past her guarded eyes. Not much of substance was said, but even on a good day it was tricky to get past her icy defenses, and today was not a good day for either of them. Weiss kept glancing quickly at the tiny, inert form of her partner, concern escaping despite her attempts to remain composed. It was clear to both of them that they were talking to the wrong person, but neither could reach the one they sought.  In the end that knowledge bridged the gap between them more than anything they could have said, and Yang actually took some small measure of comfort when Weiss uncharacteristically, almost tenderly, laid her hand on her forehead and looked her straight in the eyes as she promised that they would all be together again. For a moment Yang almost believed her, and then she, too, was gone. Leaving Yang alone with her grief; alone with her pain. —— Yang’s memories faded out suddenly and she found herself in front of her bathroom sink, the water running for some unknown period while she drifted, her teeth long since brushed. Grimacing at herself in the mirror Yang turned off the tap, replaced her thoroughly rinsed toothbrush, and headed downstairs. Tai was no doubt out and about, running errands or gardening, being painfully normal. Most days Yang didn’t mind the quiet. It gave her space to move around in her solitude, to try to find peace in it if not joy. On days like this she focused on her chores, trying not let her mind wander (with mixed success) so as to avoid brooding. This focus brought about an emptiness of self that Yang savored. She wasn’t Yang Xiao Long, monster hunter defeated at Beacon. She was Yang, the girl figuring out how to use a blasted broom with one hand and doing a wonderful job, thank you very much. If she focused enough she was less even than that, she was an anonymous hand pulling up weeds, or cleaning dishes. Until she wasn’t. Until something interrupted her focus and brought it all back. It could be anything, the flashing red wing of a bird flying by the window, a dark cloud obscuring the sun, or a dropped glass. Whatever the cause, she would suddenly snap back to that night when everything changed. When first her body, and then her spirit were shattered. Scattered. Scarred. Those memories always left her with the sound of her own blood pounding in her ears, the same blood that not so long ago was pooling beneath her, mixing with that of another. And that was when the real pain came. This was the part she couldn’t explain properly to anyone, not really. Her bodily pain had largely passed, doctors and pain killers had seen to that, and even the fear brought on by her new sense of vulnerability was nothing next to reliving that soul crushing truth over and over: Blake was gone. Yang would have gladly given both arms, both legs, her life, anything to keep Blake safe and by her side. According to Sun she was indeed safe, but she was gone, and that fact ate at Yang in a way she couldn’t verbalize. She knew she should have been able to, it was yet another vacancy in her life left by a loved one, but this felt different. Maybe it was because she had honestly thought Blake was different, or maybe it was because she hadn’t realized the depth of her own feelings until that night. The crush had started innocently enough, just a gentle flutter in Yang’s chest as she dragged her sister over to make friends with the quiet girl sitting alone in the corner. No love at first sight, no sign from the gods, just a feeling like a warm breeze on a cold night as a pair of dazzling golden eyes looked up from a book. Then seeing those same eyes hovering above a smirk in the forest, so clearly directed at Yang, choosing. Again that faint heat, like the sun poking out from behind a cloud, just for a moment. It was nice, but it wasn’t something Yang was going to lose her head over. They were partners, that was what mattered, and soon that bond became such an integral part of Yang’s life that she didn’t even notice it most of the time. They could read each other’s bodies in and out of battle so well that they could predict an attack or need for an assist as well as a changing mood or thought. It never occurred to Yang to put a label on it because it didn’t need one. What they had was so natural, so real, even if it was unspoken. Then came that night. Suddenly in a flash all of the words she hadn’t sought came rushing to her mind. Words like forever, like promise, like need and want and cherish. Words like love. And in the moment she saw all that could be and all that could be lost and she acted without hesitation. Better to die trying to defend such things than live without them. But here she was, living without them despite her efforts and well aware that her assessment had been correct. Better to have died. But she hadn’t even managed that, had she? Slamming her fist on the counter Yang brought herself back from memories still fresh, still razor sharp on the edges, still tinted red by blood. Looking down she saw the shattered glass that had triggered this flashback and scowled, more at herself than at it, and went to get the broom. —— Dinner with Tai was quiet, as usual. He did his best to make little jokes and get Yang to banter like they used to. She appreciated that he tried, and told him so, but it rarely yielded any levity. After mostly pushing her food around the plate for a half hour Yang excused herself and went to watch TV. Much of her downtime was spent watching television, especially in the evenings. Not that she really cared what was on, but she could only do so many chores and when she wasn’t moving or doing something it helped if there was some background light and noise to distract her from thinking. Thinking for too long rarely did her any favors. Her nightly ritual was to stay up watching until her dad mentioned once or twice somewhat pointedly that it was late and he was headed to bed. Eventually Yang would go to her own room to appease him but with no intention of sleeping. This was another of those things she couldn’t fully explain to anyone: her hatred of sleep. Even if she had wanted to she could hardly fall asleep before one or two in the morning now, her mind simply too full of unsettling images to allow for rest. And beyond those thoughts lay the dreams. Every night she relived the attack in one form another. Relived her fear, her pain, her helplessness. And at the end of every dream the same thing, a pair of golden eyes, cold where they once were warm, turning from her and disappearing. The dreams were nothing compared to what came next. What Yang dreaded more than almost anything was waking. Every morning, without fail, she would open her eyes to the golden light streaming through her window. She would blink, and yawn, whatever dream had startled her awake fading in the morning light. And then, after two or three heartbeats of life being completely normal, she would remember. Her sleep addled mind would clear and all of weight of the past several months would crash down on her. She would look down at her arm, remember her injury, her defeat. Her loss. Blake. Every day she fought the tears. Some days she actually won. This was the thing no one mentioned to her when they tried to talk about her loss, maybe they didn’t even know. Why couldn’t her traitorous mind just wake her with the knowledge intact? Why that moment of peace, of normalcy, just to have the wounds ripped asunder again and again. Even on her good days these first moments of the day were always the worst. These were the moments that inspired her darkest thoughts. Though she knew she would never do herself any harm, these moments made her wish she could go to sleep and never wake. The words came unbidden, almost mocking, straight to Yang’s lips and out into the air above her head. “I’m not dead” She listened as they quietly echoed through her empty room, felt them resonate harshly in her ears. This was not going to be a good day. —— Most of her days were a blur, with little to differentiate one from another. Yang found that she didn’t necessarily mind feeling disconnected from time, but she noticed that it made her interactions with people somewhat awkward, as if they no longer inhabited the same world, and perhaps they didn’t. Yang found herself referring to the “other day” and talking about something that happened months or years ago, while dredging up memories from minutes or hours ago left her head spinning from the enormity of time in that span. Had she lost her arm mere moments ago, or was she always just a lost, broken, scared girl wandering aimlessly around her childhood home? Was she a ghost, a wraith long dead, going through the motions of a human life and not accepting her own non existence? This was a common musing for Yang, but one particular instance was thrown into sharp relief when it was interrupted by one of the few harsh points of clarity in a time otherwise bereft of temporal landmarks. The first was Ruby leaving, an event that signaled a definite turning point for Yang, a final separation from her old life. The second was this: a package brought to her by a beaming Tai. The arm. Maybe it was his excitement at something that was so emotionally loaded for Yang, or maybe it was just a bad day, but the arm was the last thing she wanted to see. It was a mimicry of what she now lacked, a symbol of all she had lost, and did not have the intended effect. She did her best not to show her anguish, knowing that her father truly meant well and thought this would be exactly the thing she needed to get her back to normal. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that normal was so far outside of her current reality that she couldn’t even conceive of it. Besides, the only way even try to get to normal was back through those dreaded memories, and those were already being forced on her every morning and every night. Why spend any more time with them than absolutely necessary? Even if the arm was perfect, better than the original, did that undo the damage that had been done? She was broken, her body was a puzzle that would always be missing a few crucial pieces. This arm wouldn’t bring her back to a time when she was invincible, when she gladly took damage not only to fuel her semblance, but to prevent those she loved from needing to take it in her place. Now she knew all too well how breakable she was. Worse, she knew how inadequate she was. She had given her body and soul and been found wanting. Now she was alone. Alone, and broken. She looked up at her father’s expectant face. So many emotions warring within her that it was all she could do leave the room without running, fleeing as much from memories of the past as this thing that was supposed to be her future. At the last minute she remembered her father was still standing there and made the appropriate noises of thanks before retreating to her room. Yang could feel a storm blowing in, and as tears formed in response to the thunderheads in her heart she buried her face in her pillow, surrendering herself to the tsunami of emotion that was washing over her. Several hours later exhaustion granted her a temporary respite, but it wouldn’t last. The arm waited patiently for her in its box, unmoved by her reaction. It was a beautiful device made with the utmost attention and care to its form and function, yet somehow not a single thought had been given to what it would represent to the girl who actually had to wear it. —— Eventually, to appease Tai, Yang forced herself to retrieve the arm from the living room. She didn’t know how long that horrid reminder of her failure sat on her bedside table, staring at her, taunting her. Maybe it was a day, maybe it was a month, maybe a lifetime or more. She only knew that abhorrent mockery of everything she lost was dragging her from her self imposed purgatory down to hotter depths. Right as she was reaching a breaking point, ready to stamp a return address on the box the abomination had come in with a note scrawled in her still unsteady left handed writing telling General Ironwood where to shove this miraculous piece of technology, another arrival changed her plans. Changed everything, in fact.   Ever since that package had shown up sleep had been nearly impossible. It was as if the arm sucked up all the air in the room, leaving Yang to suffocate as she tossed and turned, measuring her time spent asleep in minutes rather than hours. One day her exhaustion was too much to stand. Without a word of explanation to Tai she got up from the dinner table and staggered up to her room where she dropped into a deep, if not dreamless, sleep. Some hours later she woke in a cold sweat not to the bright light of morning and chirping birds, as she was accustomed, but to the softer glow of the moon accompanied by uproarious laughter from downstairs. Knowing that sleep wasn’t going to find its way back to her any time soon she decided to head down and seek comfort in the sound of other’s voices. Hoping they would be loud enough to drive out the sound of her memories, that the gravity of their beings would cancel out the pull of that cursed device she pointedly ignored on her way out of her room. Unfortunately for her the sources of that laughter had other plans. She was surprised to find her father in the kitchen with Professors Port and Oobleck, both of them occupying roles in a life she only half remembered these days. They welcomed her warmly, however, and it was nice to see familiar faces that didn’t seem burdened by her condition. Unfortunately, her comfort was to be short lived. It didn’t feel like they had coordinated it, but the discussion became very pointed very quickly, and Yang could tell they weren’t going to let her be. Talk of normalcy, of fear, it was all well and good, and sharing a genuine laugh did lighten her heart somewhat, but none of it penetrated those walls; so sturdy in their first construction and seemingly getting stronger every day. It wasn’t until the men were leaving that everything came crashing down. Ruby. Words said directly to her hadn’t really landed, but the name of her wayward sister spoken when they thought her out of earshot found its way through her defenses, losing no momentum as it struck the very center of her being. She had let her sister run off to Mistral on her own, believing her own fight to be done. At the time it seemed that there was nothing to do. Ruby was their leader, a capable warrior, she was going on a mission and Yang couldn’t stop her. So she let her go, helped her even. At the time it had seemed a noble act but now she saw how wrong she was. Worse, she had hamstrung her father’s ability to help Ruby. Tai couldn’t go off and protect her stuck as he was babysitting his other, broken daughter. She rolled all of her excuses around in her mind, tasted the lies for what they were: Fear. She had been afraid, so she let her sister run off without her. She had been abandoned by Blake so she abandoned her duty to watch Ruby’s back. Her dad had been right about one thing this evening: she was Yang Xiao Long. Two arms, one arm, no arms, it didn’t matter. Her whole life she had been good at two things: taking care of her sister and kicking ass. Ok fine, it mattered a little. Having two arms was probably preferable. She looked at the arm, reflecting the light of a shattered moon into the eyes of a shattered girl from its perfect surface. It was so smooth, unbroken. Unnatural. Horrible. Wonderful. She put it on. The sensation of the connection driving home was uncomfortable, to say the least. She had been warned it would be, and that while she would have sensation in it she shouldn’t expect it to feel like the original. In that moment she didn’t care. This arm wasn’t a replacement, she didn’t need it for anything delicate, tender. It was a weapon. An extension of herself like her gauntlets were, but a weapon nonetheless. And though she was so far from ready, part of her reveled in it. Her weight instinctively shifted back to center as she realized she’d been crooked all these months compensating for her imbalance. Her knees bent slightly, and she could feel a touch of that fire, the power she had thought forever lost. She threw an experimental jab with the arm, noting similarities and differences to how it used to feel. Without thinking she reached back to brush a stray hair behind her ear and felt the cool metal run across her temple in place of warm skin. It was too much, too soon. She felt something within her crack. The next thing she knew she was on the floor, sobbing and wrenching the arm off. It took her a few tries to figure out how the stupid release worked, but once she did she threw it as far across the room as she could given how hard she was shaking. The tears streaming down her face burned trails of fury down her cheeks, her ribs heaving so hard she worried she would throw up. When she stilled herself enough to think at all images started flooding her head. Blood, fire, blades and terrified eyes. With a colossal effort she pushed those aside for the one that mattered: Ruby. Ruby, on her way to Mistral and gods knew what danger with the remnants of team JNPR. Yang wasn’t ready. She wasn’t, but she had wasted so much time already, too much. She knew this was like any other injury, aggravating it before it was healed might mean it wouldn’t heal right, or wouldn’t heal it all. But that didn’t matter, she didn’t matter. Finding Ruby, protecting her, that was what mattered. For Ruby, she would pick herself up, right now, and do what needed to be done. Golden eyes burned in her mind, welcoming, afraid, then cold, then gone. Yang shook her head. Not for her, never for her. Not again. For Ruby. She walked across the room and picked up the arm. Releasing the breath she was holding, the breath it felt like she had been holding for months, she spoke with as much determination as she could manage with her still shaking diaphragm, staring herself down in her mirror. “I’m. Not. Dead.” Suddenly that statement carried with it something she had set aside shortly after returning to Patch: obligation. She could put down her burden when she no longer drew breath, but that day wasn’t today. She braced herself to try again, knowing she was in for a long night. —— When she walked outside the next morning she had half a mind to depart immediately, but her father was right, she needed to train. Without time to adjust to the arm and regain her fighting stamina she’d be less than useless to Ruby and the others, she’d be a liability. So train they did. The first thing she noticed was how stiff she was. Her joints creaked like they had rusted over sometime last century and were being forced to move despite being quite happy in their immobile state. The second was how much more like herself she felt in combat. The flow was even better than her focused chores. When she was in the middle of it she had no fear because she had no memories, no self. She was the fight and nothing else, until her father landed a solid blow or something distracted her, then she found herself shaking, fighting back tears. In those instances Tai would quickly stop the fight so Yang didn’t hurt herself and could simply collapse until her traitorous mind and limbs could be trusted again. Eventually she learned to mostly control those episodes, to let herself use the rush of combat to tamp down her more extreme emotions. If she was lacking her former joy in battle, she more than compensated with focus. Finally, she noticed the arm. In some ways she grudgingly had to admit it was an improvement. It’s strength and durability were undoubtedly better than flesh and blood, and she learned to make use of those. She did find that she had to adjust to its movements, which weren’t quite as fluid as her natural arm. Over the weeks she was proud to discover that this, too was becoming a strength. What little unnecessary flourish she had ever had in her fighting style was gone, her movements had become precise without becoming predictable, and it was showing. Add to that guidance from her father, welcome or not, and it was all coming together to make her even more formidable than she had been back at Beacon. Tai may have lost a step (or three, or four) when he lost Summer, but he was still one of the best hand to hand combat specialists Yang had ever met, and she was winning. At first she suspected he was going easy on her, but she started to see him push himself harder and harder and still she won more and more frequently. Never with ease, mind you, but she was undoubtedly getting stronger. One of the things Yang was most grateful for during her training was the sheer physical exhaustion of it. Sleep was coming easily by pure biological necessity, and she could hardly process dreams in the depths of her slumber. Mornings still held their terrible moment of peace, but she found that having something to do helped her power through her daily remembrance. She even found herself joking more than mechanically over meals and during breaks with Tai. In some ways the temporary nature of this time was a blessing. There was a goal, something to strive for, and that gave her a clarity and focus she hadn’t felt in months. Knowing it would soon be over also made that time feel somehow lighter, as though weightier matters were being saved for another day. There were no decisions to make, just training. But the temporary nature of this phase meant that all too soon it came to an end. After beating him three times soundly in a single session she knew it was time. Any longer and she would be stalling, buying herself time for a someday that would never come. She knew she was still broken, that doing what she was about to do would guarantee her mental scars would be with her forever, but this wasn’t about healing, it wasn’t about Yang at all. Ruby needed her, nothing else mattered. Well, almost nothing. In a moment of self indulgence that Yang didn’t even know she had left in her she decided that the Atlesian scientists, while gifted at mechanical engineering, didn’t know anything about color schemes. At this point Yang had already taken apart the arm and inspected it , learning it like she would any weapon. She had even modified it to match her remaining gauntlet with a cleverly hidden muzzle and dust rounds, but all of these things were practical. She was pleased with herself as a bit of the old Yang peaked through and she found herself stripping the arm down once more, this time to give it a paint job that would leave a bit more of an impression. After all, she thought, I’m not dead. For the first time this brought a smile to her face. A half smile, a crooked smile. Maybe more of a grimace. But still, it was a start. She shook the spray paint can and got to work. —— Decision made, the time to leave came with startling speed. Before she knew it Yang was hugging her father goodbye. They had talked about it at length, and despite his reservations Tai was allowing her to make this trip alone. He grudgingly accepted that Yang needed to strike out on her own or risk hiding behind him, negating all the time she had spent training to regain her confidence. Yang also suspected he wasn’t too keen to take part in her plan. She was going to Raven. After years of searching she was finally seeking out her mother when she finally couldn’t care less about finding her. According to Qrow Raven’s camp was dug in and large enough to be readily found. Easier than a handful of kids in an entire continent anyway. From there it would be a quick hop to Qrow via Raven’s semblance, and hopefully he would be with Ruby. Easy. Ok, not easy, really hard actually, but simple. That’s what Yang needed, straightforward and efficient. The look on Tai’s face when she told him her plan made it clear that had she not argued so vehemently for her need to go alone already he would have started looking for excuses. After months of feeling that he couldn’t possibly understand her pain Yang saw it’s twin in his face and felt like a fool. Of course he would understand, if anyone could it would be the man who was abandoned by one love and lost another shortly after. But it was too late now for more than an unspoken moment of understanding to pass between them. Maybe someday Yang would find a way to open up to him and give him space to open up in return. But the days from that realization to her departure passed in a blur with no time for a heart to heart, and then it was time to go. Air travel was still in shambles, even after all those months, so the only real option Yang had was to go by sea. Fortunately the trip from Patch to Anima wasn’t far, but she was going to have make good time across the continent, it was a long way to Raven’s camp. She had plenty of time to plan though, the voyage was quiet and people seemed willing to keep their distance. At first Yang didn’t notice, but eventually she saw a few people, usually men, approach her only for their opening line to die on their lips. She wondered at this until she caught a look at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t how she was dressed (though she had intentionally gone for a less flirty and far more practical look in her new threads) it was in her eyes, the set of her jaw. It was in every line of body. Before, Yang had been incredibly approachable, when she wasn’t angry of course, and she liked to be that way. Inside and out she was all gentle lines and inviting curves. Attractive to some but more importantly to those who knew her best she was soft and safe, like a warm blanket you wrap around yourself to keep out the chill as well as the monsters under your bed. Physically she hadn’t changed. Well, most of her hadn’t. The arm was new, but that wasn’t the real difference. Not the one that mattered. One look at Yang revealed little that could be described as soft. The process of reforging her broken self far too quickly had left her jagged and raw, all sharp edges and hard points. She may still be useful at keeping the monsters at bay, but get too close and you would find her to be anything but soft. Yang saw that and part of her, a distant memory of girl she once was, wept. But she was the past, and the present Yang saw those hard lines and was proud. They were a sign that while she wasn’t invincible she was resilient. She could be broken and put herself back together because she had to. The world could do its worst, she wasn’t worried. She nodded her head appreciatively, if somewhat grimly, pleased with what she saw when she looked in the mirror. This was not the face she had grown accustomed to seeing, the broken girl who needed to convince herself she wasn’t dead. She was no ghost, she was a phoenix rising from her own ashes. The resurrection was far from perfect, she was jagged and crooked where once she had been smooth and symmetrical, but those details paled in the face of the power bursting forth like flames from every pore. So what if anyone standing too close got burned? That wasn’t her problem. Needless to say, she had plenty of privacy for the remainder of the trip. The only company she couldn’t escape were her dreams.  On the ship there limited opportunities for Yang to exhaust herself. There was a meager gym below deck but she had to be careful not to destroy the ancient heavy bag that swung with the motion of the waves, and there was little else of interest. Yang never could stand exercise bikes or treadmills. She wasn’t a hamster, and even those poor creatures deserved more interesting forms of exercise than they got. So her dreams came back, but in a different form. The waves had an oddly soothing effect on the contents of the dreams. At first Yang was grateful to not have to relive her dismemberment every night, but she quickly began to fear her new batch of dreams nearly as much. Every night was Blake. Mostly memories, strikingly detailed for things Yang had tried to bury. The way she would quirk an eyebrow when Yang had made a especially atrocious pun or inappropriate joke, pretending not to laugh but so obviously wanting to. The subtle motion of her mouth nearly reading aloud when she was particularly absorbed in a book. If Yang watched carefully enough she could almost follow the story in the movements of her lips. The play of muscle in her lithe figure as they fought side by side. Yang becoming intoxicated with the sight of her to the point of giddiness. Seeing a matching smile on Blake’s face, wondering if she felt the same elation. Wanting so badly to pause the fight so she could lay her head on that lovely chest, listen for the heartbeat that she knew would be in perfect time with her own. Those eyes. Too often the dream turned to darkness. Blake would be wrapped in shadows until all that was visible were her burning eyes. Turning from beacons of a home that Yang didn’t even know she was seeking to stony indifference, and then turning away to vanish forevermore. Yang wished these dreams would leave her in the morning, wake to find herself muddled and oblivious like she used to, even if that meant wading through the crash of emotion that followed. But these dreams were too gentle, lasted too long, faded too slowly. She inevitably woke to see those eyes turn away, leaving an aching hole in her very core that she was beginning to accept was simply part of who she was now. Eventually that emptiness was just another reminder that she wasn’t the girl she used to be. Sure, her step no longer bounced with underlying optimism, but she also wasn’t that fragile shadow rattling around her father’s home. So when her dreams were particularly haunting she would take a breath to steady herself, and go searching for that girl with a look that could cut, who stood strong on her own, was built to protect others and needed nothing in return. She tried to pretend she didn’t see the rest, the parts of her still broken, still crying out to the void for the one who shattered her to return. No, that was the past. Despite her constant protests to the contrary, that girl was dead. Her world had ended and she with it, so every morning Yang would stare in the mirror until she couldn’t see her shadow anymore, and if she found herself wiping away tears she didn’t think anything of it. They didn’t belong to the person she had become. —— It was a relief when she finally got off the boat. No more moving at a pace set by others; it was time for her stand on her own two feet. Tearing off from the port on Bumblebee Yang felt free in a way she hadn’t in months. She had the wind in her hair, a full tank of dust, and miles to go before she reached her goal, but she was finally doing something that mattered. The right thing. It felt good. Pulling out onto the main road she was reminded of team RWBY’s first real mission, out to Mountain Glenn. Professor Oobleck had slyly asked all of them but Ruby pointed questions, digging into what drove them. At the time she had found it annoying, invasive, and unfair when she found out Ruby hadn’t been grilled, but now she saw the genius of it. He had seen right through Yang, through all of them, and what he saw was a group of girls who thought they knew what they wanted and had no idea. Yang hadn’t been lying when she replied, she had sought adventure, novelty. But why become a huntress instead of literally anything else? When she searched her mind for the answer now she found only one that felt honest: she was good at it. It was a simple, boring, blunt answer, but it was true, and she saw that now more than ever. She wasn’t surprised that Ruby had found another mission so soon. Ruby wanted to be a huntress, that was her driving passion, just as it always had been. Yang had always envied her that. They had spent their lives being told to follow their dreams, discover their purpose in life, and Yang never could find that thing. Sure, she felt strongly about a lot of stuff, but there was never any one thing that was obviously her calling. So she went with the flow; she was good at fighting, it was in her blood, and it was a respectable career that let her help other people. Plus, it was fun, what’s not to love? Of course, that was before. How nice would it be to be sure? To know that all she wanted to be was a huntress, to never question it? Yang assumed it must be comforting for Ruby, to know without a doubt that she was doing the right thing with her life. Still, Yang realized as she was riding down the beginning of a long and lonely road, maybe her way was what was keeping her going now. She was broken, and honestly unsure if she would ever feel desire or passion for anything as she had before. But she didn’t need passion to direct her path, she chose for herself. And right now she chose to get up every day, no matter how much the simple act of rising out of bed hurt, and put one foot in front of the other. She would find Ruby, she would undo her mistake of all those months ago and say words that should never be left unsaid. Most importantly, she would protect her. If she got wrapped up in some grand mission as a result, so be it, but that wasn’t what mattered. Yang was not seeking the heroes path, she didn’t want fame or fortune or even adventure anymore. She sought only to protect those she loved. That thought, so simple and pure, brought a smile to her face. Not a grimace, not a sneer, a smile, small and true. Maybe she had more edges than she used to, maybe she wasn’t soft or innocent or whole. Maybe the shadowy corners of her mind were haunted by golden eyes, but maybe that was ok. Yang inhaled the country air as she leaned through a series of turns and shouted into the wind: “I’m not...” But her breath caught, the feeling was suddenly different, the words all wrong. At first she was worried that the tears in her eyes were a new form of sorrow, for in the strange sweetness she felt a trap. But sorrow was not the feeling she was struck with, it was more like the pain of taking your first breath after nearly drowning. Looking around, Yang saw a world full of color and life unlike the one she had inhabited for so many months. Danger still lurked just out of sight both within and without, but life went on and that realization was almost painful in the startling clarity it brought. Yang found her voice again and and with a smile on her lips she whispered, somewhat in awe of the truth of it: “I’m alive.”