#the cicadas kept dying outside.
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are we doing anything we want to be doing. hello? hello? are we living our lives as we would ever freely choose to live them? hello? are we happy? are we living before we die? are we thinking about how we'll think back on our lives when they're about to end? are we going to be satisfied? are we going to wish we did more? is there anything we can do that won't make us wish we did more? can we do more? are we doing all we can? is this all there is? is this how life is? are we participant or observer? do we get to choose? what do we do if we don't?
hello?
#.txt#the cicadas kept dying outside.#live before you die#don't mind me it's Depression Season#but mostly it's coming to a plateau at a long period of uncovering shit and growth-i-guess#and now wondering what the next step is and seeing that it's just more difficult#and just wanting to go back to sleep and go back to sleep and go back to sleep and go back to sleep#and never being able to#i want to spend more time with my dog and i can't because i sell my time for our food and shelter#she gets older and i have no control over my time#and i am losing my mind over it more and more every single day
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I could not stop wasting time. It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldn't even tell you about anything that I saw. I didn't talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.
- Yiwei Chai
#life quotes#quotes#sad poetry#sad quotes#chaotic thoughts#thoughts#writing#poetry#literature#aesthetic#lit#poem#prose#quoteoftheday#spilled ink
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Gojo fanfic: A Pleasurable Way to Surrender
TW: đNSFW, Enemies to lovers, non-con, arranged marriage, Gojo Satoru-is-the-head-of-Gojoâs family, eventual smut
Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader
Setting: Iâm an assassin, driven by the burning need for revenge after Gojo Satoru killed my father. Beneath the mask of a noble lady, I hide my deadly intent, each move carefully measured to fulfill my mission. In this setting, Gojo Satoru never attended the Jujutsu High and instead succeeded as the head of the Gojo family upon reaching adulthood, which led to his more erratic and domineering personality.
The late summer sun cast long shadows through the paper screens of the Gojo estate's parlor, where the air hung heavy with incense and unspoken intentions. The traditional tea ceremony setting - a masterpiece of calculated design - stretched before me like a stage for the deadly performance I had rehearsed countless times in my mind.
I knelt on the tatami mat, my borrowed kimono arranged in perfect folds, each movement precise and measured as I prepared the ceremonial tea. The delicate porcelain whispered against the lacquered tray, a sound nearly lost beneath the distant chirping of cicadas. The green powder dissolved into the hot water as I whisked it with practiced grace, creating a perfect foam that would have fooled any noble lady's discerning eye.
Through lowered lashes, I monitored the corridor outside. Gojo Satoru's presence approached like a gathering storm - powerful, inevitable, and impossible to ignore. His initial disinterest in these arranged meetings was legendary among the noble families, yet I counted on that very arrogance. The trap was baited with seeming innocence and propriety.
He paused at the doorway, and I felt the weight of his gaze through those remarkable eyes. The Six Eyes that had seen through my father's defenses now turned their penetrating focus on me. My heart thundered in my chest, but my hands remained steady as I continued the ceremony, each gesture a carefully choreographed dance of deception.
"How unusual," his voice carried the lazy amusement of a cat discovering an interesting mouse. "I wasn't planning to attend another tedious matchmaking session, but something caught my attention."
I bowed demurely, exactly as a noble lady should, while beneath my sleeve, my fingers itched to form the seals that would unleash my true purpose. "Gojo-sama honors me with his presence."
He entered the room with fluid grace, his white hair catching the dying sunlight. His traditional clothing, worn with casual elegance, did nothing to disguise the predatory power in his movements. As he settled across from me, his smile held all the warmth of a winter moon.
"Tell me," he drawled, accepting the tea bowl with deliberate slowness, "what brings such interesting jutsu fluctuations to my humble home?"
My carefully constructed mask nearly cracked. His words carried the playful tone of someone already aware of the game being played, yet choosing to toy with their prey. I kept my eyes downcast, focusing on the ritual before me, but I could feel his gaze peeling away layers of my disguise with cruel precision.
"I believe it is customary to share tea before sharing secrets, Gojo-sama," I responded, proud of how steady my voice remained despite the killing intent I struggled to contain.
His laugh shocked me with its genuine delight. "How delightfully proper! And here I thought this afternoon would be boring." He leaned forward, close enough that I could smell the winter-fresh scent of his breath. "Let's play this game of yours. I'm curious to see how it ends."
The tea ceremony continued, a delicate dance of ceremony and subterfuge. Each movement became a dual performance - the refined noble lady I pretended to be, and the assassin I truly was, both painfully aware that Gojo Satoru saw through every pretense and was merely waiting to spring his own trap.
"Let's play this game of yours," his words lingered in the air as he guided me from the tea room to the estate's private dining chamber. The setting sun painted the wooden corridors in shades of blood and gold, a fitting backdrop for our deadly dance of deception.
The dining room proved more intimate than I expected, with low lighting from paper lanterns casting mysterious shadows across Gojo's features. He gestured for me to sit across from him at the low table, close enough that I could study the dangerous grace in every movement, yet far enough to maintain the pretense of propriety.
"You handle the tea ceremony beautifully," Gojo remarked, his blue eyes gleaming with hidden amusement. "I wonder what other talents you're hiding beneath that perfect noble lady facade."
I arranged my kimono with deliberate care, using the movement to conceal the slight tremor in my hands. "You honor me with your praise, Gojo-sama. Though I fear my talents pale in comparison to your... reputation."
"My reputation?" His laugh carried a sharp edge. "Which one? I have so many these days." He leaned forward, pouring tea with casual elegance. "Perhaps you've heard how I deal with those who seek to harm me?"
The tea cup nearly slipped from my fingers, but I caught it with practiced grace. "I've heard you are uncommonly merciful to your enemies."
"Merciful?" His smile turned predatory. "Now that's a new one." He raised his cup in a mock toast. "To mercy, then. And to games played in the dark."
As servants brought course after course, our conversation wove between veiled threats and subtle flirtation. Each word carried double meanings, each gesture concealed potential violence. I watched him pretend to lower his guard, leaving deliberate openings that screamed 'trap' to my trained eyes.
"You seem tense," he observed, reaching across the table to adjust my tea cup. His fingers brushed mine, sending an unexpected shiver down my spine. "Are you finding our little dinner party not to your taste?"
"On the contrary," I met his gaze steadily, even as my heart raced. "I find everything about this evening... intoxicating."
"How fortunate," Gojo's voice dropped to a dangerous purr. "Because I've arranged for a private tour of the estate afterward. There are so many... intimate spaces I'd love to show you."
The air between us crackled with unspoken intentions. His every movement telegraphed absolute confidence, a predator so assured of his superiority that he could afford to play with his prey. Yet beneath my mask of demure compliance, I felt the familiar cold focus of an assassin's patience.
"You're not like the others," he mused, studying me over the rim of his cup. "They come here seeking power through marriage, transparent in their ambitions. But you... you want something far more personal, don't you?"
I lowered my eyes, using submission to hide the flash of hatred his perception triggered. "Perhaps I simply want to know the real Gojo Satoru."
"Dangerous wish," he chuckled, rising with fluid grace. "But I'm feeling generous tonight. Shall we begin that tour? I promise to show you everything you're dying to see."
The moonlight filtered through the shoji screens as Gojo led me deeper into his private quarters. Each step felt heavier than the last, time itself seeming to slow as we approached his inner chambers. His hand rested lightly on the small of my back, a gesture that could have been courtly but carried an undercurrent of possession.
"Interesting," he murmured, sliding the door closed behind us. "Your jutsu fluctuations are getting stronger. Anticipation, perhaps? Or something more... lethal?"
I maintained my composure, though my heart raced beneath the elaborate layers of my kimono. "You seem very concerned with my jutsu, Gojo-sama."
"How could I not be?" He circled behind me, his breath warm against my neck. "It's like watching a butterfly try to disguise itself as a wasp. Beautiful, but ultimately futile."
My fingers twitched toward the concealed weapon in my sleeve, but before I could move, the air around me grew thick as honey. My movements slowed to a crawl as his Limitless technique took effect.
"Now, now," Gojo chided, catching my wrist with deliberate gentleness. "Let's not ruin the mood with violence." His other hand traced the line of my jaw, turning my face toward his. "Unless that's what excites you?"
I tried to pull away, but found myself pressed against the wall, his body caging mine with effortless strength. "You knew all along," I accused, abandoning pretense.
"Of course I knew," he laughed softly, his lips brushing my ear. "Your hatred burns so beautifully. It's what drew me to you in the first place."
His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat. I gasped, caught between resistance and an unexpected surge of heat. His mouth traced a burning path down my neck, each kiss a mockery of my murderous intentions.
"Stop playing games," I hissed, even as my body betrayed me by arching into his touch.
"But I'm enjoying this game," Gojo murmured against my skin. His hands slid down my sides, mapping the contours of my body through the silk. "Aren't you? Your body seems to be."
My attempts to form jutsu seals were met with increasingly intimate responses, his touches growing bolder with each thwarted attack. The line between combat and caress blurred dangerously as his hands found the edges of my kimono.
"Such dedication," he praised, slowly unwrapping me like a precious gift.
"Let's see how long you can maintain that killing intent while I make you forget everything but pleasure," Gojo whispered, his words igniting an unwanted heat beneath my skin. I struggled against his hold, but his Limitless technique turned each movement into a languid dance.
"I'll never forget what you did," I hissed, even as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. My resistance only seemed to amuse him further, his touches growing bolder with each attempted escape.
"Such passion," he murmured. "But you're fighting the wrong battle." His hands slid beneath the loosened layers of my kimono, mapping the curves of my body with deliberate precision. "Let me show you a more pleasurable way to surrender."
(The eventual smut could be explored on Wattpad! I promise it wonât let you down ;P love yâall!)
#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x you#gojo smut#gojo x reader#fanfiction#anime#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu kaisen#anime and manga#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n
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I could not stop wasting time. It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldnât even tell you about anything that I saw. I didnât talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.
Yiwei Chai, The Jacaranda Years
#quote#yiwei chai#the jacaranda years#wasting#time#crazy#life#sleep#shower#wall#talk#cicadas#dying#dreamed#mouth#thick#venomous#silence#quotes
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@dani-aka-that-one-namechanger submitted: As I told you in your PMs, this little one was getting eaten alive by ants when I saved it. I brought it inside, thinking it was dying from the Texas heat. My objective of caring for it until it got cooler out failed when I formed an attachment to it. I want to name it either Gregory or Cassie. I'm curious what gender is the little guy? Also, what do adult cicadas eat?
As we discussed in IM, adult cicadas are much better off outside than kept as pets. They use their proboscis to suck fluids from a large range of trees and other plants. This one was likely at the end of its natural life and ended up dying anyway.
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âââ CASE FILE . . . KURODA, NOZOMI ⤝ @avichor .
the cicadas sang deep into the sticky summer heat, grass beneath them cool and the bottle of whiskey they had managed to swipe passed between them as the tiny port - town descended into an eery quiet. since their arrival, such quiet had only served to suffocate them, that much dazai knew. the people too kind, too close and inquisitive. days spent at nozomi's side went either of two ways: an endless disaster of noise that of which only his performance of normality kept him upright with legs moving forward, an aid to ignore the shadow that lingered at his side and followed wherever he went â or this, an empty quiet pushing between them that not even the gentle sounds of their breathing could fill, words left unsaid between them that they dared not speak into existence, lies or truths that they couldn't afford to let the other hear.
even in spending the morning in a tangle of limbs, her hair in his mouth and his face pressed against the warm skin of her bare shoulder, neither of them had found what they were searching for to face the dawn of the new day. and so they had met it as ghosts, walking alongside each other under the sweltering heat of the sun as though only distantly real beyond the touch of their skin.
â osappi. â delicate tone of her voice breaking the silence between them, making them real again. amber gaze holding the horizon, dazai had let his eyes slide to her in dulled recognition and acknowledgment that she had spoken. â can i hit you ? â words followed by the immediate crease of his brow, blinking slowly before he looked back to the disappearing sun.
his reply came easily. â you think it'll make you feel better. â her silence had hung heavier that day, her breaths shallower and filled with an emotion he couldn't decipher, her steps sluggish despite their already lazy pace. whatever stirred within her, dazai could understand the need to justify it through pain, real and tangible with something to show for it. evidence of life. the thought took him back without warning, final words spoken on a dying breath stained with blood, you thought you would find a reason to live within violence and bloodshed, but nothing will ever fill that lonely hole within you. dazai could recite the words to her, the same mantra he told himself before sleep chose to claim him in the twilight hours, but it wouldn't serve the same purpose. â it won't, one of us will just end up bleeding. â the lift of his shoulder, but her question remained an echo to nag at his mind. some part of him found it pathetic, that something in her mirrored a part of him he had yet to acknowledge, that same recognisable need for raw, unchecked emotion that would go unpunished within themselves so long as it confirmed that they could feel, no matter the lengths they went to achieve the realisation.
though whatever hurt nozomi felt, whatever it was she needed to make it real, she had asked him for it, had the decency to do so where dazai had only ever known how to take. so then with the defeated click of his tongue dazai made to stand, pushing up from the grass and dusting his hands against his thighs. â up. up. â the jerky offer of his hand, for a moment his limbs stiffened before he decided she had taken too long to take it, instead leaning down to grasp her wrists and haul her to her feet before him, steadying her when they were face - to - face. making changes, helping people. â zomi gets one shot at this ... â a sigh falling from his breath, dropping one of her wrists but bringing her hand between them, manoeuvring her fingers into a well - formed fist, thumb on the outside to avoid breakage. a pat to it before he stepped back, shaking out the tension in his limbs. â so she better make it count. â then offering her the unblemished side of his face, the other bruised from the previous week's scuffle, arms falling to his side and body rid of its defences for his own unavoidable pain and her probable disappointment that her feelings remained unchanged â both things he would bare just this once. to do something for someone else, because they had asked. â go for it. in the next five seconds, if you please. make it good. â
#avichor#avichor ⤝ kuroda nozomi.#VERSE â˝ â âž I HAVE NEITHER HAPPINESSâ NOR UNHAPPINESS ⸺ UNDERGROUND ARC.#okkkk#yyyeeeeeahhhhh <3 she should knock him tf out#bottle of whiskey passed between them but i know this guy has barely touched it
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I could not stop wasting time. It was crazy.I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldn't even tell you about anything that I saw. I didn't talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.
#naturecore#nature aesthetic#forestcore#forest aesthetic#forest witch#forest photography#fairycore aesthetic#nymphcore#nymph aesthetic#forest nymph#forest fairy#fairy grunge#fairy aesthetic#view#poetry#poem#tumblr poetry
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O. basilicum, part vii
By the summer that Basil turned eighteen, the state of affairs in Verdigris had begun to change.
Long before then, Jimâs mother had passed away unexpectedly, and he had followed his older sister out of town. His parting gift to Basil had been a new cane, as his old one was much too short to be of use to him now.
âDonât worry about me,â Jim had assured him. âI donât know where Iâm headed, but wherever it is, Iâm sure Iâll be fine.â
Basil had been skeptical, but he hadnât voiced his concerns. It was a dangerous world out there, but who knew? Maybe Hank was right. Maybe there was a better world out there. If Basil had resigned himself to never leaving, perhaps Jim could see enough of it for the both of them.
In the weeks and months that followed, Basil took up fishing alone. Throughout the warmer months, whenever he wasnât running errands for Frida or working in the community garden with Dusty, he could often be found down in the creek, wading up to his knees. Other times, he took long walks in the woods with his cane, staying out as long as he dared before Frida would start to worry.
She worried less, these days. That was one of the more surprising changes. Perhaps Basil was just growing up, or perhaps it was something else. Either way, Frida spent less time fretting over him and more time lauding him for how far heâd come since arriving at her doorstep, battered and broken. She did still worry for him, of course. Such was the natural way of things: the sun rose every morning, Basil did not have a heart, and Frida worried.
After all, for how much things may have changed in Verdigris, others would always remain the same. Basil liked that just fine.
All of that to say: by his eighteenth birthday, Basil had become so firmly rooted in Verdigris that the thought of calling anywhere else home felt incredibly foreign. Where he had once been a stranger wearing someone elseâs clothes, now Basil walked the dirt roads of the village like heâd been born there, his unsteady gait the only visible indicator of his former life. Two more years and heâd have spent half his life in Verdigris. Already, Swallowâs Point felt like a distant dream.
Basil had long ago given up any intention of ever returning to Amistadia. It wasnât home to him any longer; being driven out of it had severed those ties completely. Even if he wanted to return, even if he thought it was safe to do so, he doubted he could manage it. And what would be the point in returning? Nothing awaited him there. Why leave Verdigris, the only place heâd ever truly been accepted as he was? Here, they were left alone. Basil had no doubt that passing travelers knew they were out hereâbut whether those strangers recognized them as Heartless, he couldnât say, and did it matter? So long as they kept to themselves out here, no one thought of them as a threat. Sure, there were some who understoodâJimâs mother had been one of those precious fewâbut most never would, so it was best not to bother.
Even so, Verdigris was a small place. And Basil knew, from Hankâs many stories, that the world was much bigger than this. But he was no king, no god, no heroâafter everything, a quiet life suited him just fine.
Basil hefted his pack over his shoulder as he walked home from the creek, barefoot in the tall grass. In it he kept his shoes and his canteen, and his cane hung from a leather loop attached to the outside, should he need it. Fireflies rose up from the grass around him, blinking softly as if keeping time with his own steady breathing. Crickets chirped and cicadas hummed their mournful evening song, like a choir all led by the gentle summer breeze blowing through the hillside. Basil walked slowly, taking it all in, though he didnât have time to stop and rest a while. He was already late for supper; the sun was starting to set earlier than he had gotten accustomed to anticipating.
As he crested the hill, Basil squinted through the eveningâs dying light. Dusty stood at Garthâs front gate, gesturing wildly. Raising a hand to keep his sunhat from blowing away with the breeze, Basil hurried up the road to meet them. His bucket slapped against his thigh as he went along.
â...and thatâs what I donât understand!â Dusty was saying animatedly when he arrived.
âWhatâs this?â Basil asked, expertly dodging Dustyâs waving arm.
âAh!â Dusty said, pointing. âYou! Tell the old man here to stop being so damn difficult.â
âOi, donât involve the poor lad in this,â Garth cut in, voice gruff. He was hunched behind the fence, leaning on an old, sanded down tree branch he used as a walking stick.
âDonât involve me in what, exactly?â Basil asked again, setting down his bucket with a sigh. It looked like he wasnât going to be home for supper after all.
âOld man Garth here wonât accept anything from the town garden,â Dusty explained, crossing their arms over their chest. âNot a single bite.â
âI grow my own food,â Garth said firmly. âSave what the town grows for others who need it.â
Dusty gestured at Garthâs garden, incredulous. About a week prior, animals had gotten into Garthâs yard and eaten most of his late summer harvest. Something had also eaten one of his chickens.
âI have enough,â Garth insisted. âI preserve most of what I grow. Save your charity for those who need it.â
âSave myâ I donât understand what you think the point of a community garden is if not to feed the community!â
âStop,â Basil said. Dusty actually quieted. Despite being one of the younger folks in town, Basil seemed to have that kind of sway over people. Even Dusty, from time to time.
Basil glanced down at his bucket of fish. Only a few measly brook trout sat at the bottom, still with their scales (he was too squeamish with a knife to skin them himself). Heâd been hoping to take these home to Frida; it was a poor afternoonâs catch, but it was something. Basil frowned. Then, he picked up the bucket and held it over the fence toward Garth.
âHere,â he said. âAt least take this. Just in case.â
Garth peered in the bucket, wary. He raised his bushy gray eyebrows.
âI donât need charity from you either, lad.â
âDonât think of it as charity.â Basil shook the bucket. The fish slapped around wetly inside. âThink of it as payment. I still owe you for this.â With his other hand, he reached behind and pulled out his cane, tapping it against the dirt.
Garthâs expression softened. âIt was just scraps, Basil. Jim did all the work both times.â
âJimâs not here, so I canât repay him. Besides, you taught him everything he knows. Please?â
Garth was quiet for a moment, scratching his short beard in thought. Then, finally, he sighed and took the bucket.
âThank you, lad,â he said softly.
Basil smiled wide and turned to walk off. If he stayed any later, Frida would certainly have his hide. Dusty stared after him, feigning suspicion.
âI still expect your help in the garden tomorrow,â they called after him.
Without looking back, Basil lifted a hand and waved. He understood the code for what it was: he would almost certainly be interrogated tomorrow. Dusty liked to challenge and taunt him, whether that meant a mandatory heart-to-heart or getting his hands dirty. Often, it was both. Whereas it had once embarrassed him, now Basil found himself looking forward to it. Not that heâd ever admit it.
That was the greatest change since Basilâs arrival in Verdigris, although it was mostly an internal one. In a way, the people of Verdigris had become family to him more than even his own parents had been. Thinking that way made Basil feel guilty, but he hadnât seen his parents in eight years, and doubted if they were even still alive. Maybe they had loved him unconditionallyâthey certainly risked a lot for him. But Basil wasnât too concerned with love, not anymore.
The people of Verdigris had taken Basil in exactly as he was. Theyâd sheltered, fed, and clothed him. TheyâFrida, Hank, and Ann especiallyâhad raised him, and saved his life. Basil wasnât very strong, nor was he particularly skilled; but he would be there for them in return, in the only ways he knew how. But it wasnât out of a sense of indebtednessâthat wasnât the kind of debt that could be repaid, anyway. It was simply what felt right.
Frida was waiting on the front porch with a lantern when Basil finally arrived. He committed the image to memory, deep within the well of his chest, of her standing with a light in the dark, waiting however late into the night for his safe return.
She looked at him disapprovingly.
âSorry,â was all he said.
âYouâre never going to listen to a word I tell you, are you, Basil?â Frida asked fondly. She glanced down and tilted her head, as if noticing he had arrived empty handed. âNo catch today?â
âI gave it to Garth.â
Frida hummed, urging him into the house, not caring for the dirt on his feet.
âYou make it difficult to be upset with you.â
Basil beamed ear-to-ear, which only seemed to weaken Fridaâs resolve further.
âCome now,â she said. âSupper is getting cold.â
#i actually wrote the next chapter before i finished this#it needs work though#wink wink nudge nudge some of you may guess where we're headed#aro#aromantic#aro writing#aro writers#writing#writeblr#o basilicum#the heartless#long post#op
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a poem by stoicdreamss
I could not stop wasting time,
it was crazy.
I wanted to do something with my life,
but instead I went to sleep
or sung in the shower
or sat and stared at the wall.
I couldnât even tell you anything that I saw.
I didnât talk to anybody,
the cicadas kept dying outside,
and as I dreamed my mouth grew thick and venomous,
with silence.
Oh but itâs embarrassing.
Sometimes when the wanting shows how much I just need someoneâs hands on mine,
how I just want a soft voice to call me out of sleep,
somebody to drink coffee with while the sun wakes up.
I am so good at being alone,
until I remember what itâs like to be loved.
And then, I am aching all over again.
Then Iâm calling you up in the middle of the day and ask for something impossible.
Couldnât you pretend that Iâm not all together too much.
Just for this one afternoon.
#4norexi4#male ed#ed books#tw restrictive ed#disordered eating thoughts#@na trigger#anasp0#annarexya#ana trigger#mydisorderedconfessions#th1nnspo#thin$p0#i will be thinner#i need to lose this weight#thin$po#thisismydisorderedconfession#thinspø#i want to be weightless#i wanna be weightless#tw weight#i need to lose so much weight#need to lose more weight#i wanna lose weight#4n4r3x1a#4norex1a#4n4m14#4n4t1ps#4n4m1a#4namia#4n4rexia
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Bello Licentiae Chapter 2: Bonding
Summary:
tw: PTSD, trauma, kidnapping, burns, abuse, grounding, dissociation, death/dying, criminal activity Relationships evolve as 1-A starts training for the Provisional Licensing Exam
Notes:
'text' JSL Text thoughts
Akira nodded to Katsuki as they padded into the kitchen to make tea. He quietly handed them his Gang Orca mug at their offer to refill. ' I get nightmares pretty often, ' Akira opened as the chamomile tea steeped. ' Counsellor says it's common for heroes, especially ones with PTSD. '
Katsuki scoffed, still curled up on an armchair. "Heroes don't get nightmares."
Akira raised an eyebrow. 'Eraser does. Heroes are still people, and our brains sometimes need more time to process trauma than we have while we're awake. At least that's what I've heard.'
Katsuki went quiet as they sat down on the couch next to his armchair. The quiet hum of the lights and screeching cicadas outside filled the silence as Katsuki stared into his tea and Akira ran through what they could work on that day. Physical training was out of the question since they were still regaining mass from their kidnapping, so clone work while eating would make the most sense.
The elevator's whir added to the night sounds, so Akira got up to make another mug of tea. Moments later, Katsuki startled up from his tea as the elevator doors dinged open to reveal a tired Fumikage. Akira grabbed a hibiscus rose blend as he entered the common area. Katsuki swiftly stood and started to walk to the elevator when Akira caught his eye.
' We've all got issues. You're welcome to stay if you want. ' At his hesitance, they added, ' We don't have to talk. '
"A film sometimes alleviates the terrors of night," Fumikage offered as Dark Shadow settled between them and started their soothing purr.
A couple hours into a rainforest bird documentary â Katsuki having been outvoted for birds over heroes â the dorm's door opened, and Akira jolted up from dozing on the couch. Capture scarf unraveling from its grounding pressure on their torso, Akira crouched and silently padded towards the genkan as Fumikage let out a half-asleep grumble at their absence. Moments later, Aizawa padded into view, and Akira relaxed back into a neutral stance.
Aizawa looked between them and the two in the living room and sighed. ' Couldn't sleep? '
Akira nodded and signed ' nightmares ' before gesturing to the kettle on the stove. ' Want some tea? '
' I've got coffee. Try to sleep, we're working on ultimate moves tomorrow. ' Aizawa headed up as Akira settled back on the couch after readjusting Katsuki's blanket on the armchair. They barely stirred as Aizawa left half an hour later, sleepily lifting their head to wave at him before settling back down.
Akira woke up a few minutes before Katsuki around five and started making tamago gohan. ' Breakfast now or later? ' they asked, turning just enough for him to see.
"I'll make it later," Katsuki grumbled and grabbed an energy drink from the pantry. "Run with Kiri first."
Not long after the pair left in matching green workout gear, Midoriya sped through the kitchen to grab the same drink and nearly fell as Akira waved from the island with their food. They raised an eyebrow, 'Situational awareness, Broccoli. Be glad Sensei isn't here.'
"Hey, did I do something to you?" Midoriya blurted out while wringing his hands.
' Not recently, but we do need to talk at some point, ' Akira kept their expression carefully neutral. ' Go on your run. I'll approach you when I'm ready to talk about it. '
He hesitated a moment, conflicted, before speeding out the door. The door slam jolted Fumikage awake to Akira's eye roll. ' Do you want breakfast? Or do you also have a ridiculously early run? ' they teased. Fumikage gave them a half-hearted glare before trudging upstairs.
Over the next few hours, Akira got ready for the day, and the class filtered into the common area. Before leaving, Akira filled a couple tumblers with their smoothie and grabbed a few mango jelly pouches. As Hitoshi was the last one downstairs, Akira handed off a purple cat travel mug full of Aizawa's blend. Like Hitoshi sometimes did for them, Akira guided him to class with occasional nudges and pulls to Kaminari's amusement from their snickering.
In class, Aizawa officially announced the weeks' goal of creating ultimate moves for the provisional license exam. In the Training Dining Land, Akira sat down near their Ectoplasm clone and signed, ' I want to focus on fine motor control for better combat and reconnaissance applications. '
"Do you want advice on control?" the clone gently asked, keeping a comfortable distance.
Akira shook their head. ' Our methods of control are very different. I'd like to start solo, and I'll signal if I want to move onto sparring before lunch. I'll dismiss the clone and ask if there's something I need another perspective on. '
Warping a few inches to the side, Akira focused primarily on evasion tactics, running through forms and methods of falling without dispelling the clone for the first few hours. There were enough holes in their clone's defense to be noticeable, and there was still a delay when Akira wasn't inside their mind shadow.
Not long into practice, All Might walked up and initially moved towards their clone, so Akira dispelled it. ' Do you need something? ' they signed.
"Ah, I'm just making observations and giving tips where I can," All Might said awkwardly. "You've mentioned your clones have a heartbeat, yes?"
Akira nodded, keeping their face carefully impassive against the desire to punch the man. ' Yes, why? '
"Have you tried seeing what else they mimic? Fine motor control is important for reconnaissance, but since your clones also copy what you're wearing, they might be able to use your support items."
'Â Yes, but-Â ' before Akira could explain, he set off towards the next student. They sighed and warped to continue working. Their capture weapon was too complex to use reliably at this point unless they directed their clones to try and interface with the nanites. Shifting their control up, Akira lightly tugged at the brain area of their clone with the clear image of their capture weapon rising. It shakily rose on their clone, hovering for a few seconds until Akira shifted their control back to the thread trailing from the shadow. Almost immediately, the scarf wrapped around the clone and constricted as if a stranger had tried to interface with it.
When they broke for lunch, Akira grinned at Hitoshi's mixed success mimicking their classmates' mannerisms and speech patterns. He almost had Fumikage's down, but they were struggling with more animated voices like Kaminari.
Hitoshi brightened as he turned to Akira, lowering their mask. "I could create a voice for you if you want," he grinned. "I bet you could learn how to talk in time since they're artificial vocal cords."
Akira froze, rice ball halfway to their mouth. Shoto especially looked curious, but Katsuki stiffened from where his group sat nearby. ' May I? ' they gestured for the mask. Akira hummed, adjusting the knobs and dials several times before they said, "Testing." Akira startled as a slightly higher version of their old voice came through louder than they intended. Adjusting it a couple more times, they tried again, "Does this... yes, this is close to how my voice sounded." It was more difficult than they remembered to vary the pitch without using the dials, but it was a close approximation.
" Your voice?" Shoto asked, eyes bright. Aizawa locked eyes with them and straightened. He drifted closer but stopped back as Akira slightly shook their head.
' When I still had vocal cords, ' Akira signed and held out the mask for Hitoshi. He froze reaching towards it, and Mad Banquet stared at them for a long moment. Hitoshi seemed to shake out of their stupor first and gingerly took the mask back.
"What happened?" Shoto asked. He shrunk back slightly, confusion twisting his expression as the group's focus snapped to him.
' Not important. It's been four years, and I have other means of communication at this point, ' Akira signed before going back to their food. Looking around the group, they continued, ' Really, it's not great that it happened, but I'm out of that situation and am quite capable without my voice. '
"You don't want it back?" Hitoshi asked, anger burning in his eyes although Akira was fairly certain it wasn't directed at them. "Hatsume could make one of these for you."
Akira shrugged, ' I have bigger things to focus on right now, and at this point, I don't need or particularly want it. You're welcome to use my voice as a neutral one if you want, but some may recognize it. '
"Any particular group I should avoid using it around?" Hitoshi asked too casually for the calculating look in their eyes.
Akira sighed exasperatedly, ' Not the time, Blank. '
That night, as everyone filed back into the dorms, Akira slipped into the kitchen with Katsuki. ' You cooking for everyone or just you? '
"Everyone, Reaper," he grumbled. "You know how to make katsudon?"
Akira nodded and started pulling out onions and scallions. After a few chops, they tapped his shoulder to show their usual sizes with Dabi. ' This good? ' They eyed the spices Katsuki set out with a raised eyebrow. ' Might want to leave out the death spices. Not everyone has fire quirk levels of spice tolerance. Unless you make a batch just for you and Peppermint, that is. '
"Those are fine, and what do you mean?" he growled. "Deku loves my cooking."
Akira mock put up their hands in surrender. ' Maybe he's just used to it? Most people stick with salt, pepper, sugar, soy sauce, and mirin. I got used to spicy food living with a fire-quirked roommate, but he kept it toned down a bit. '
"Fine, you do the spices, but the extras better not call it bland."
"Woah, Kat's letting someone else lead in the kitchen?" Kirishima grinned as he settled at the island, resting his elbows on the counter. "Anything I can help with?"
Akira blinked, remembering that morning. ' Are you two dating? ' they signed before carefully sliding him a knife and cutting board with the rest of the scallions. They pulled out some milder and earthy spices to balance out the tolerable end of Katsuki's selection.
"I can do it with my quirk," Kirishima protested and blushed, "and yeah, made it official after he got cleared from the hospital."
Akira immediately snatched the chopping board back, scowling at him. ' That's unsanitary! You're worse than Wildfire. ' At his confused look, they clarified, ' Roommate. Either take the knife or just sit there lookin pretty. '
Kirishima preened as Katsuki shot them a dirty look. He sheepishly reached across the island again, taking the knife before Akira would let go of the cutting board.
"Weren't they the bastard who kept burning you?" Katsuki asked as the smell of burnt caramel wafted through the air. Akira wrinkled their nose but was mostly used to the acrid scent by now.
' Yeah, but that was mostly my fault. Can sneak past Eraser and paranoid for a reason don't mix well ,' Akira signed. ' We figured it out, though. He kept trying to use his fire to cook, and he doesn't have good control to begin with. '
"Why do you call him that when he's off duty?" Kirishima paused to compare his slices and went back over his small pile with finer strokes.
Akira cocked their head for a moment before realization struck. ' Oh, I guess because I've known him as Eraser for longer? ' they mused. ' Calling him Sleepy Cat feels weird at this point. '
"So what, did the fucker keep an eye on you for the-"
Eyes wide, Akira warped onto the counter and slapped a hand over Katsuki's mouth. Kirishima yelped as a knife cut dispeled the other clone and Katsuki froze, small explosions briefly lighting up his palms. His eyes narrowed as they shook their head emphatically.
After a moment, Akira released Katsuki and slid off, carefully avoiding the cabinet handles on their way down. ' No, and please don't talk about them. Wildfire offered me a place to stay after my building was destroyed by Endeavor. '
"What's his name?" Kirishima asked awkwardly after a moment. Akira and Katsuki snapped to look at him before shifting back to their stations.
Akira hesitated, glancing towards a quietly approaching Shoto, 'Â I don't think-Â '
"Toya," Shoto said as he got closer. "They're arresting father in a few days now that they have his testimony, so there's no harm in Bakugo and Kirishima knowing now."
Katsuki scowled, brow twisting in confusion. "Wasn't Toya your oldest brother? There was a big scandal in the hero forums when he died."
Shoto's neutral expression cracked as he frowned bitterly. He started to speak, but Akira put a hand on his arm. ' I've got this. Wildfire ran away. He nearly died that night and has been biding his time to take down Endeavor. A lot will come out in the trial, and I will probably be unavailable this weekend. '
Katsuki scoffed, "If they're taking down Endeavor, why aren't they going after your family?"
Akira gave him a pointed look and threw up their hands at the defiance in his eyes. ' Fine, you want to know so bad? Meet me down here at eleven. I'll let Eraser know we're talking. ' As the other two perked up, they huffed, ' And no, you two can't come. Murder God only gets this talk because he overheard something while we were kidnapped. '
Dinner was tense, especially with the uncertain looks Midoriya and Aoyama kept giving Akira. Mina tried to keep the others engaged with their ultimate moves, but conversations kept drifting off. After showing Aizawa's permission to Vlad, Akira waited for Katsuki to make his way down. Around 22:30, they texted Fumikage to join them. He might as well get the full picture since he was part of the hospital fiasco .
' Raven has more context because of our lunch conversations and because he was with me at the hospital, ' Akira explained as they set out.
"Why are we leaving the dorms?" Katsuki asked with a hint of uncertainty. "And where are we going?"
' The dorms are too big for me to properly sweep, Ear Jerk and Tentacle Boy have Thinker quirks, and the roof has the risk of quirks that use or are similar in function to satellites, ' Akira said simply. At Katsuki's laugh, they just stared at him straight-faced.
Expression falling, he looked between them and Fumikage. "You're serious?"
Once they were well into the forested area of campus, Akira leaned against a tree and gestured for the other two to stop. ' So we're on the same page, Murder God, did the League say anything after I left? '
"Marbles-"
' Mr. Compress ,' Akira reminded him.
"Mr. Compress was weirdly obsessed with you," Katsuki said. "He kept talking about wasted potential and something called forced quirk manifestation. They were just trying to recruit me after that."
' First things first. Yes, I was born into the Inoue family... ' Akira tiredly explained forced quirk manifestation, their abuse, and their current standing with the family. ' I have plans for them, but it will take years, and I will likely not be around to see them succeed. '
Fumikage startled at that, and Dark Shadow unfurled from the comforting hug he'd been giving Akira to face them. "We will protect you, little shadow! You will see your success," they crowed.
Akira smiled bittersweetly, touched at their enthusiasm as Katsuki let off a few small pops. ' I'm afraid you won't have much of a choice, but I appreciate it. ' They lightly rapped their head against the tree trunk they leaned against. ' The odds of my survival plummeted the moment my family found out I'm alive this early, and they were already pretty low to begin with. I didn't want to involve children â other children, at least, but it happened anyway. '
"We're not children," Katsuki ground out.
' We are, though, ' Akira tiredly insisted. ' We should be, anyways. I had to grow up fast, and our class has had to as well in the past few months. My family is a bigger stage than any of us should be even thinking about right now, but here we are. '
"Fat Gum was aware of your predicament before he arrived," Fumikage said bluntly.
' He figured it out during my internship. Eraser and Principal are involved, and more may be added to the list in the near future. They're aware of Raven and Dark Shadow knowing and of Murder God hearing the name. And of our meeting tonight, obviously. I can't give you more, but I don't want either of you involved while you're students. '
"You're a student," Katsuki grumbled as he kicked a rock.
Akira smirked, ' Yeah, and I was carrying this alone until Fat Gum. '
"No, you weren't." Akira startled, looking to Fumikage. He crossed his arms with a pointed look, "You forget I've learned you like a book. What would you withhold when so much has been revealed?"
Akira sighed, ' Right... There's a group I'm in that has helped me survive this long. Once we graduate or if there are extenuating circumstances, I'll introduce Raven and Dark Shadow, but not before then. Murder God, you'll have no reason to know them as a limelight. '
Katsuki bristled, "Are you saying you're a criminal?"
Akira shrugged, ' I'll be labeled one soon after my plan starts, and Eraser is aware of the situation. ' They leaned against the tree, arms lightly crossed as the pair mulled over the information. Dark Shadow gave a gentle squeeze as Akira started to drift, so they gave the shadow bird a few pets to help ground both. After a minute, they pushed off the tree. ' If you don't have any more questions, we might as well head back. '
"Only the same as I did in the hospital."
Akira winced and signed to Katsuki, ' Raven and I need to talk privately for a moment. You can head back now. '
He scowled, drawing up. "Eh? I thought you were bringing me in."
Akira waved him off, letting some of their annoyance seep through. ' This is different. It's not that I don't trust you, rather that it's a sensitive matter I barely know how to address with Raven. '
Katsuki looked ready to put up more of a fight but with a deep breath, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked back towards the dorm. Once Akira heard his footsteps fade into the distance, they sagged against the tree and lowered themself to the ground. Dark Shadow let out a startled squawk and stayed around them as a steadying force.
"Akira?" Fumikage asked softly, treading closer to sit in front of them.
Akira sighed and tucked their knees to their chest as they focused on Dark Shadow's purr to settle their racing heart. ' I'll be fine, just... give me a moment. ' They focused on deep breaths, cicadas screeching, and the soft yet prickly grass underfoot, petting Dark shadow as their family's retaliation gradually felt a little farther away. After a few minutes, they uncurled into a cross-legged position and focused on Fumikage.
"You said he offered something?" he asked gently.
Akira nodded and signed, ' All for One collects quirks. He knows how they work and interact with each other, and he has the power, funds, and resources to take down my family. '
Fumikage slowly nodded, expression clearly fighting to stay neutral as Dark Shadow shifted uncomfortably. "Are you sure?"
Akira tiredly explained his file room, the access they had, and finally the offer. ' Raven, I... his path hurts the fewest people. Has a near-guaranteed chance of success. Doesn't put any other innocents in danger. It- it makes sense, but... '
"But he's tried to maim or kill us on multiple occasions," Fumikage said softly as hurt seeped into his voice. "He wants to destroy the world."
' No, ' Akira signed to his surprise, ' he wants to rule it. ' After a shaky breath, they continued, ' The Commission is not working, and too many people are invested in the status quo for it to be reformed. It's time we make this world our own. It's time someone put them in their place. '
"Have you told Aizawa?"
Akira slumped forward and shook their head. ' I'm pretty sure it's the right choice, but I... I don't want to lose them. I wasn't going to risk losing Mad Banquet either, but you were there. ' As Dark Shadow purred a little louder, Akira smiled slightly at the idea of having people to worry about rejection from.
Fumikage gently took their hands. Akira blinked out of their thoughts, knowing how rare physical touch was for him. "It will take far more than a difference in code to lose us," he said firmly. "In this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and I will not abandon you. The worst things you have or will do don't matter. Watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch. We are not the Banquet of Light for a reason, and we pledge ourselves to your cause so that you will not bear this alone and have voices of reason in times of turmoil. Speak with Aizawa or one of your trusted adults, and we can continue this with the rest of Mad Banquet."
Akira nodded reluctantly with a shaky smile and forced themself to get up. ' They're probably wondering why we're not back with Murder God. '
Notes:
gosh I had Luke's part of "Last Day of Summer" from Lightning Thief: the Percy Jackson Musical stuck in my head for this chapter. Like yes, it's an inspiration for Akira, but they haven't crossed the line to Luke's stance yet.
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#PTSD#trauma#kidnapping#burns#abuse#grounding#dissociation#death/dying#criminal activity#when good people go to war#lgbtqia#aro ace#agender#nonbinary#mha#bnha#fanfic#dadzawa#popmic#shinso hitoshi#nonbinary shinso hitoshi#nonbinary mc#bello licentiae#yes all the fic names are in latin#latin is aesthetic#and spoopy#mad banquet#nonbinary dark shadow#nonbinary kaminari denki#tokoyami is a good friend
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I could not stop wasting time. It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldn't even tell you about anything that I saw. I didn't talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.
Yiwei Chai.
#original writing#female writers#faceclaim#fanfic#wattpad#writing#fancast#writers#face character#gif pack#poetrycommunity#original poets on tumblr#poetsandwriters#poems and quotes#love quotes
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âI could not stop wasting time. It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldnât even tell you about anything that I saw. I didnât talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.â
â Yiwei Chai, The Jacaranda Years .
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The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence
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Text
I could not stop wasting time. It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldn't even tell you about anything that I saw. I didn't talk to anybody. The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence."
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I could not stop wasting time
It was crazy. I wanted to do something with my life, but instead I went to sleep, or sung in the shower, or sat and stared at the wall. I couldn't even tell you about anything that I saw. I didn't talk to anybody.
The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.
~The Jacaranda Years/Yiwei Chai
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The cicadas kept dying outside, and as I dreamed, my mouth grew thick and venomous with silence.
- the jacarda years by yiwei chai
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