#but I understand it’s a hard balance between not wanting to step on someone else’s toes and having the lore be too structured

[verysium]

『01』 到着: arrival

ft. rin itoshi, sae itoshi

summary: the forces of nature abide by a single law: all cataclysms are creators of their own collapse. in the wake of such destruction, rin tumbles his way down to earth, and along the staircase of heaven, a new star is born. cw: mild swearing, childhood nostalgia and growing pains, rin being embarrassing, social anxiety, sae being somewhat parental, sibling dynamics, kamakura and japanese culture, spanish lessons, very dense prose (cus i suck ass at dialogue), star analogies, orange peels and other fruit metaphors, fluff but bittersweet.

word count: 6.4k

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The first word Rin learns is star.

It is spoon-fed to him in glittering globules of milk fat, dense and pooling around the gums. Stars are what he senses when rough hands slip around his torso, stuffing the nib of a plastic bottle into his mouth. He is only a week old and can't see yet, but he already knows the set of eyes he is staring into. There are tiny pinpoints of blue-green light, reflective and shiny, a mirror to his own.

The world is blurry but somehow Rin finds his own image. His newborn legs are scrunched inside a wad of cotton blankets, poised and ready to strike. Rin doesn't like being confined, but the four walls of the hospital room offer him no reprieve. He cries and bawls and screams to go back. Only the silence answers.

Rin hates this place. The world out here is a different state of mind: too bright, too loud, too much. Anything and everything has been etched into a single frame, time scorched into untouched skin. It is to the point his senses cannot handle any more.

Every morning the shadows of nurses gorge themselves on daylight, waistlines growing by the minute as they enlarge into his field of vision. They pry at the wires of his crib, brushing off invisible dust as they try so hard to make his heartbeat sync with their incessantly beating machines. His body refuses to obey. They should've known the moment he was born that he'd always be one step behind.

Rin wants to screech his head off again. This time he babbles that the milk tastes like car grease, that he'd rather die free than live in pain, but a firm hand stays the bottle between his lips, insisting on its delicacy. Rin blanches. He isn't hungry. He tries to pull away. But his mother's voice cuts through the silence, a warning.

"Sae-chan, be careful with your brother."

The two-year-old grunts, lips twisted in annoyance as he tries the balancing act of feeding a newborn with one arm. His gaze is ancient, too piercing for a child. Rin's fingers crawl up Sae's face, clumsy and blind as they grope for his nose bridge. There are stars in his older brother's eyes, ones Rin cannot reach no matter how hard he tries.

Rin ends up spilling milk on himself, crying as he drools white rivulets down his chin. If Sae could swear, he most definitely would’ve called Rin an ungrateful little shit. But Rin knows it is an honor to be born where he was. He is a legacy to someone else’s dream, both a spare and a second chance at living. He butters himself up in their nasal tongues, machinating his lips in tandem. 

When his brother offers him another drink, his mouth is already open.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It turns out life outside the womb is actually far greater than it was inside. Rin learns that real people walk and talk and grow up to find something called a purpose. He doesn't understand why the adults deem it complicated though. How could something so simple take years to discover? After all, his brother has already figured out his purpose, so why couldn't he?

"Rin-chan, you must find something to do with your life," his grandmother mentions over dinner, smoothing her weathered hands down the locks of his hair. The family is gathered around the table for tea, sitting like a portrait on the zabuton. Rin tries his best to emulate, his three-year-old spine drawn taut with practiced humility.

"Your brother has already paved the way. You can do the same, can’t you Rin-chan?"

Of course he can. Rin's heard these words a thousand times before. Sae isn't called the family's star collector for nothing. His nii-chan has already amassed tens of thousands of these five-pointed shapes, a few of which sit in a glass trophy case Rin isn't allowed to touch. He’s seen this all play out before.

A fortune teller once read their futures, thumbing her way along his brother’s palms as she spilled the very same oracles. Rin still remembers that day clearly: a morning visit to the shrine, the image scattered like water. The torii unfolded like a vermillion tongue, moseying its way down Komachi Street. He had been dressed in his little navy blue hakama, toes tucked politely into his tabi, his round eyes reflecting the world like a fisheye lens. There was much to observe from the hustle and bustle of life. Peculiar squiggly lines danced along the signage of shops. Candied lacquerware displayed themselves behind glass windows. Rin even stopped to point out the goldfish hanging in their crystal bags, giggling when the force of nearby windchimes sent each fish for a tumble. One soba stop and two taiyaki ice creams later, his small feet had grown tired from the hours of excursion, and his mother carried him on her back for the latter half of the trip home. 

It was then that he spotted her. 

An old lady sat in a booth by the wayside, framed by colorful curtains. His father had told him that she could foresee the future with the mere touch of her hand. Sae had gone first, holding out his palm with assured poise, as if he already knew the outcome. Rin wasn’t surprised when he heard the verdict. The old lady claimed Sae was destined to become the world’s greatest star, to bring glory to the nation of the sun. Rin didn’t doubt it if this was true at the time. His brother’s existence was proof enough. Sae’s certainty was a lesson Rin learned before object permanence, before any preconventional stage of development. Nii-chan is always one way and not the other. He is on track to do something important, and nothing can sway him from it. 

That was the first truth Rin learned of this world.

Even now at the family dinner, he doesn't even need to look to know that his brother is sitting with near perfect posture, the precision of still life running through his veins. Sae is an adult before he is a child, a handcrafted figurehead for the Itoshi name. Rin lifts his chin a little higher, his toddler hands raised in firm conviction.

“I’ll follow Nii-chan! Follow him to the end of the world!”

His grandmother nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Rin doesn't say anything else, quiet for the rest of the night. He doesn't understand the words she exchanges with his parents, nor does he try to. Adult talk still isn't his strong suit, especially not when it concerns the future. But his mother's eyes shine wet and proud, and his father chuckles more than usual. Rin decides his purpose right then and there.

He wants to be a star too.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day after starting kindergarten, Rin shows off his first masterpiece, cradling two sheets of rice paper as he runs up to the front door. By the time the fusuma slides open, he has already uncrumpled his work, dramatically revealing a bold shock of color. It appeared to be some sort of assemblage, painstakingly inked in blue crayon and pieced together with painter's tape.

"That's a pentagon, Rin."

"No, it’s a star! See? 1…2…3…4…5 points! Star!"

Sae isn't amused. Rin does not know why. His brother’s eyes are hardened slats of light, the still water of an abandoned lake. There are no mouths to swallow the light, no twinkling ripples at the surface, not even the gasps of glimmering excitement. There is only the mirrored slate of the sky: one shade of blue bleeding into the next. Rin feels his stomach plummet into its depths. This isn’t the soft look of pride he wanted to see. Not in the slightest. 

At first he thinks about crying, his bottom lip already curled with the onslaught of a pathetic sob. But spite unfurls in his lungs, so instead he turns his nose up with huff, trying to seem unaffected. He would be very proud of his star. And it most certainly was not called a pentagon or whatever stupid name Sae learned in his stupid math class. But apparently his older brother always had something else to say.

"Just come here and erase it. I'll show you how to make a proper star."

"But I don't want to! It's my star. It's perfect!"

Rin can hardly utter another word before Sae's glare nearly freezes the living daylights out of him. Nii-chan is scary, especially when angry. He doesn't even have a choice when he sits down at the chabudai, pouting in reluctance. Sae works out his magic on paper, crafting ley lines within the grain of paper. Rin does his best to follow, licking his lips as he guides his crayon through the dotted lines. It gets increasingly difficult though when Sae's hand echoes warmly around his own, gentle but firm in its direction. Rin tries to avoid his brother's eyes, but Sae's kindness is as disarming as his gaze. Had Nii-chan always had that crease between his eyebrows? The slight upturn of his lips when he bit his tongue in concentration?

Rin tries to trace the lines, but he ends up tracing Sae's face instead. His focus isn't even on the paper when he scribbles out a mess of incomplete pentagons, some geometric concatenation he cannot translate into real-time. Sae would have pinched his cheek, scolding him in disappointment.

Sae never did.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next time Rin traces a pentagon, it is on the surface of a black-and-white ball, shot like a meteorite through a football goal. His brother becomes a comet, light on his feet as he thunders down the field, weaving seamlessly between defenders. Rin can only stand on the sidelines, drowned out in his second-hand hoodie, face smushed up against the fence as he tries to get a good view. The team's been at it for hours, and Rin's pretty sure he now has the diamond imprint of chain links burnt into his cheeks.

"Somebody stop him!"

"Get after him!"

"Mark Sae Itoshi!"

There will always be someone up to the challenge of his brother's prowess, but no one ever comes close to toppling him. Rin doesn't think Sae would ever miss a single step, not when he's so far ahead. His brother is strong and calculated, absolutely unwavering in his ascent to the top. The only way Sae Itoshi could ever fall is if he buckled under his own weight, caving into himself.

Rin's eyes follow the reporters as they trail after Sae, and his nose wrinkles in disgust. They were no better than a pack of bloodhounds, desperate for a small taste of his brother's victory. How dare they? His Nii-chan outshined everyone at everything. Rin wasn't the smartest boy, but even he knew that a star could never be caught. They didn't even belong on Earth in the first place.

"Let's go, Rin."

Rin doesn't complain when his brother calls him to return home, oblivious to the media's chagrin. Like Sae, Rin is utterly indifferent to their plight, side-stepping one of the reporters who dry-heaves on his shoes in exhaustion. It was definitely their fault for failing to outrun both an eight-year-old child and his kid brother, let alone try to feast on their glittering remains. If they couldn't catch a star, they ought to eat the dust left behind. After all, that was how the world worked according to Nii-chan.

Only the best could succeed. All the rest would implode with the universe.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It is the summer before his tenth birthday when Rin takes back every single one of those words. He is that reporter now, completely humiliated and exhausted as he collapses on the sidelines. The afternoon workout had just entirely rearranged his guts, so much so that he's foaming at the mouth, the remnants of his hasty breakfast speckled all over his cleats.

Out of every star in existence, the sun has to be the worst one. A pool of sweat trickles down his back, melting into a sticky discomfort along his nape. It’s too far up his jersey for him to do anything about, and he might just die from the sweltering heat.

Perhaps it was true that sports stars had to suffer in order to burn bright, but Rin would never wish this fate upon anybody. Sae is shouting at him from somewhere outside his periphery, insisting that the sun has never stopped revolving, that Rin has to never stop practicing if he ever plans on keeping up. But at this point, he could care less about a goddamn metaphor, let alone rub two brain cells together to interpret it.

"That shot was shoddy, Rin. Redo it."

"But it's so hot, I can't—”

"It's not hot. It's lukewarm. Redo it."

Sometimes Rin regrets ever thrusting himself into the orbit of his brother’s football dream. Playing on the world stage sounded so much easier in his head back then, but now it might as well have been an impossible fantasy. He most definitely wasn’t cut out for this line of work because his legs feel like shit, his arms feel like shit, and his whole body can’t even breathe under the thick, grimy layer of sweat. Blinking his eyes against the burning salt, Rin curses to himself. He should’ve taken that energy drink from earlier. At least the caffeine would have kept him sane. Sae snaps Rin out of his reverie, his thin voice seeping into Rin’s bones. There’s something softer in his tone this time.

“Suck it up and redo it. I’ll buy you ice cream after practice.”

There is silence. Rin stands back up, wiping his forehead as he stares his brother dead in the eye. The field has never been larger, and the goal has never been closer. And just like that, he is off, powering down the turf.

Under the supermassive gravity of his brother's ambitions, Rin becomes a supernova, his body charged with enough energy to last through entire lifetimes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

In the oppressive sunlight, Sae's cold stare becomes a welcome sight. Augusts in Kamakura are the products of heat waves, the sun so scorching Rin can see a visible mirage above the asphalt. The heat spares no one, and Rin feels his cargo pants stick to the crease of his thighs. Even Sae’s bangs are plastered to his forehead, unusually slick behind the ears. They had just met Sae’s agent that morning, taking the Yokosuka line back from Tokyo. Sae had even left early, planning to evade the weekend’s tourists. But neither of them ever anticipated the harshness of the afternoon heat. After nearly an hour of searching, their only refuge was this 7-Eleven, some tiny microcosm practically stowed away between two utility poles.

The oba-chan at the konbini greets them with a seasoned smile, chirping with polite bubbliness as she rings up Sae’s Garigari-kun popsicles, a total of 70 yen for the original soda flavor. Rin waits demurely in a corner, eyes drawn to his brother’s silhouette. Some oji-san sits himself down nearby, fanning himself with a newspaper as he twirls a toothpick between his gums.

“Trying to avoid the heat, eh? You and your brother come here often?”

The man looks middle-aged, crowned with an artificial toupée and a cracked tooth. His eyes dart between Rin and Sae, a knowing smile plastered on his lips. 

“Nii-chan and I just found this place. We don’t come here a lot.”

“Ah. Is that so? You seem awfully young to be shopping without parents. What’s your name?”

Rin doesn’t want to answer. He hates this man already, even more so his strangeness. There’s a disarming nature to his beady eyes, like he knows something Rin doesn’t. Rin looks down at the floor, his sneakers toeing a shy line across the linoleum tiles. 

“R-rin.”

“Rin-kun, eh? You must look up to your Nii-chan a lot, huh? Your gaze hasn’t left him since.”

Rin feels his throat close up, cheeks flushing with heat of embarrassment. On second thought, he hates everything about this oji-san now, even down to his obnoxious friendliness. The old man winks, bending down in a conspiratorial whisper. Rin wrinkles his nose at the stale smell of beer, feeling embarrassed for even bothering to converse. This man was clearly drunk out of his mind, and Rin secretly hopes no one else is watching him. But unfortunately, the whispers are loud enough to travel across the entire convenience store, right into Sae’s ears.

“Oh-ho? Are you blushing?”

Rin vehemently shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, Rin-kun. Your secret is safe for me. You must be your brother’s little shadow, right?” The man pumps his fist out, his voice distorted in a childish imitation. “Nii-chan's number one supporter!”

Rin’s hands ball into fists at the oji-san’s teasing, his ears red to their tips. Sae is looking at him from over the cash register now, a confused look etched onto his face. Rin clenches his teeth in annoyance. Stripped bare of all defenses, he is now analyzed for what he is. Was his admiration that obvious? Did Sae know about his feelings? He didn’t want to be taken for some stupid, awestruck fool. The old man’s question is barely answered before Rin makes a break for it, the bell on the door ringing with his sudden departure.

The road outside swirls in holographic patterns, a dizzying blend of feet and socks and concrete. Rin has to take a moment to steady himself before Sae comes up behind him, armed with a plastic bag of wrappers and blue ice between his teeth. Rin licks his popsicle with caution, burning away his shame as his tongue freeze dries itself to the candied surface. Sae crunches his ice cream in two bites, an amused lilt to his voice.

“What was that back there?”

“N-nothing! I didn’t know him.”

“You’re too shy to talk to strangers?”

“N-no…H-he was just talking to himself.”

Sae gives Rin a weird look, but he doesn’t question further. Instead, his hand reaches down to slap Rin on the back of the head, ruffling the hair there until it somehow resembles a bird’s nest.

“Next time someone asks you something, just answer. Stop acting like a damn coward.”

Rin’s entire face burns with humiliation at that comment. He wishes the ground could just open up and swallow him whole. The last thing he wants to be is the laughingstock of his brother’s dry humor, but the fact that Sae rarely even cracks a joke makes this entire situation much worse. Instead of replying, Rin follows what he does best and rapidly changes the subject. His voice trembles as he stares at his popsicle handle, noting the hiragana carved into plywood. Atari.

“Ah, look. I won a prize.”

Sae’s eyes widen momentarily, pausing in his step as he looks down to check his own stick. Less than a minute later, he grimaces, tossing it away.

“Tch, don’t waste your luck on something so meaningless.”

Rin knows what Sae means. Only becoming the best matters, and with the sparse amount of luck to go around, he might as well spend it on a real victory. The Itoshis can’t afford loss, not that they’d ever know what it was. A foreign emotion flickers through Sae’s eyes, something akin to uncertainty. Rin brushes it off as a trick of the light.

The trek back home is tinged with a golden hue, the sun milder as it cascades rays down both their faces. Sae's appearance has always been unsettling, even in the mellow glow of summer. Rin recalls his mother used to say that Sae inherited all the sharpness in the family. His mother was definitely right. Sae’s nose is too straight, the slant of his brows too unnatural. If Rin took a ruler to his face, every measurement would come back scientifically accurate. Nothing about Sae is soft. Nothing about him should be comforting. But when his brother looks at him, Rin feels someone’s breath brush across his forehead, the skin still warm from the imprint of their lips.

He grips Sae’s hand tighter, knuckles looped between calloused digits. They tread silently, all thoughts of victory forgotten, the coastal breeze whispering their names into air. Rin can’t take his eyes off his brother, and, despite his lack of situational awareness, Sae notices it too.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing… It’s just… Back at the store… If it were you, you’d never be afraid to speak up, right?”

“Of course. There’s nothing that I fear.”

Sae’s tone is stiff when he says this, his face tilted towards the horizon. Rin almost misses the slight waver in his voice. His brother does everything to keep his word. At least that much holds true. Rin silently wishes that too would never change.

Sae always looks forward, always stares towards the skyline, always plans for the future. Not once has Rin seen his older brother look fully back at him, let alone pivot toward the direction he once came from. One side of Sae’s face is always hidden, not too dissimilar to the far side of the moon. His Nii-chan might as well be some celestial body, cast under the penumbra of his own eclipse. No one could ever know him in his entirety.

Sae’s eyes must be lonely, Rin ponders. They’re trapped on opposite ends of his face, two stars that could align but never cross. He swears to always remember the constellations in his brother’s eyes.

He'd follow them wherever they took him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Sae has his eyes set on Spain: a land of gold, guts, and glory. The streets are somehow more burnt than its people, and the nation itself flickers with twisting tongues. It is also the only place where Rin cannot follow, and he is inconsolable.

Sae hadn’t even given a week’s notice before he broke the news on a Sunday, stating his plans factually over a family dinner. Rin nearly spit out his ochazuke right then and there, choking pitifully on his tea-steeped rice grains. Who in their right mind would willingly travel to a country that sees the sun for nearly three thousand hours a year? Perhaps Sae was immune to all natural phenomena, but Rin would rather die than train in that hellish heat. And most importantly, what was with the sudden announcement? Did his brother not even care about the people he was leaving behind?

He thought about it hard during dinner and even harder when Sae blow-dried his hair that night. They had both stepped out from the tub at the same time, arguing after their shared bath. Rin complained his brother turned the water temperature up too high every time, and Sae pointed out he was dripping water everywhere, the suds still stuck deep in his scalp. Their fingers had been at each other’s hair, clawing and tugging until their mother finally intervened, wrapping Rin up in the family towel as she knelt down to dry him. Rin stood there, an angry flush on his cheeks and his features pulled into a petulant sulk as he observed Sae clean himself with elegant precision, a quiet look on his face. Life at ten and a half was simply unfair. Rin couldn’t wait until he was his brother’s age. Apparently being a teenager meant Nii-chan could have his own towel, a custom gift embroidered with seagulls on the hem. Nii-chan could dry himself without any help from others, no longer needing his mother’s guidance. He could even leave the house if he truly wanted, and no one would come after him. Rin’s scowl deepens, glowering at Sae as his mother forces his little arms up, tugging the pyjamas over his head. In another life, he would’ve admitted that he was envious of Sae’s independence, the sheer effortless grace with which he carried himself. But Rin was too prideful to do that. A confession of his own failures was equivalent to suicide in his book.

The best he can do is bite his tongue, forcing back the angry vitriol that would have otherwise spilled from his lips. His brother stands on a stool behind him, blow-dryer in hand as he ruffles through Rin’s tresses, the nozzle spewing warm air across his forehead. Sae’s fingers are rough and heavy, riddled with calluses underneath, likely from the months of weightlifting and grip training. But as solid as they are, they are also nimble, delicate as bird wings as they gently comb through strands of hair. The hot air massages around his temples, and Rin feels the tender brush of something against his nape. He cannot tell if it was the blow-dryer or the warmth of Sae’s body behind him. 

In the end, he decides he does not want to know.

By now, the water droplets have cleared from his skin, his locks rusted from a dark olive to a coarse black. Sae turns the blow-dryer to his own head, tousling his hair as he shakes out the excess moisture. Rin watches silently through the mirror, squeezing a fine line of mint paste down the center of his toothbrush. He chews on the plastic bristles as he contemplates, moving his arm back and forth in a repetitive scrubbing motion. Sae had inherited their mother’s hair and their father’s countenance, his visage a perfect combination of both genetic features. His obaa-san once remarked that the kami had accidentally spilled wine on Sae’s birthday, anointing his head in a rich maroon. In Japan, red is the color of all things joyous, a shade Rin identifies with the uchikake at weddings and the rope decorations his parents pin onto doors for good luck. But to be associated with joy, Rin finds that fact highly ironic. He has never seen Sae express any semblance of happiness before, except maybe the occasional grimace he tries to pass off as a smile. 

Still, the connotation of their contrasting hair colors does little to ease the ache in his tiny chest. If Sae is the blood of an early sunrise, then Rin is the death before night. Black is not a marriage but a funeral, the makings of an era filled with fear, violence, and misfortune. In a way, Rin is the end to Sae’s beginning, both the antithesis and the complement.

A soft touch against his chin interrupts his thoughts, and Rin looks up just in time to see Sae retracting his hand, wiping the excess toothpaste off Rin’s chin. And in that moment, he wants to scream. How dare Sae try to leave him? To act like everything was alright. He said the end was another beginning when really it was just the end. There wasn’t any coming back from it. Sae would disappear off to Spain, and he would never come back. At least the version of Sae he was seeing now. 

In the dim lights, Rin’s hair is darker than ever, the inky tendrils plastered around his ears like a vacuum devoid of light. He brings a death omen, a curse wherever he goes. In between the liminal space of bathroom mirror and tile, he divorces memory from mind, separating the flesh until it can last no longer. He’ll kill this memory of his brother if he has to, suffocating it in the most gruesome of ways. He doesn’t want to admit this might be the last time he’ll ever see Sae. 

And most importantly, he doesn’t want to admit that he just might miss him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Rin resolved to give Sae the silent treatment after that night, avoiding him throughout the house and acting like he was repelled by some nameless force. But his plans sadly never seem to work. The more he turns away, the more he is reeled back in, as if cast on some invisible fishing line. Now he’s here in Sae's bedroom, forty-eight hours before D-day, trying to mouth out words that aren't his own. 

His brother has somehow convinced him to adopt a new language, something about how he needs to be bilingual to play in different countries. Rin didn’t understand most of it before he complied, letting himself be dragged onto his brother’s bedspread. His English flashcards sit opposite to Sae’s Spanish ones as he crosses his legs, mouthing the shapes on his brother’s lips.

Manzana. Banana. Naranja.

Translation: I am undoing everything that has ever made me whole. 

In the middle of their lesson, Sae hands his brother said fruit, as if to accentuate his point. He peels the orange in a perfect spiral, thumb under the calyx as the spongy white fiber separates from ochre flesh, the pulp inlaid like jewels beneath skin. He cracks the segments hexagonally and tosses Rin the larger half.

“Naranja.”

“Naranja.” Rin repeats, curling his tongue around the foreign vowels. He catches the fruit with ease, shoving the flesh into his mouth until juice pools between teeth and his mouth is bursting with flavor. The language trickles down his throat, settling into the hollow of his larynx.

Naranja.

He looks down at his own orange, a half-imitation at best. His fingers are still stuck inside the skin, the liquid squirting into his right eye. It is sour, acrid even. The flesh has gone bad, wrinkled like soft cherries. A tangerine blooms saffron yellow beneath his nails, zest building up under the cuticle. He makes a mental note to wash his hands later.

Mi media naranja.

Unlearning, Rin decides, is a very difficult process. It makes him feel like a child again, an estrangement from his old self. Sometimes two halves aren’t enough to make him whole, and other times it is a section too much. There are many things in this world that elude his grasp. One day perhaps he will know them all. In another life, he would have been able to tell the difference between an apple and an orange, to draw the line between his half and Sae’s half. But for now, he is still discovering, still plucking and choosing, still floundering in a body he has come to hate. Rin picks up another flashcard, right next to the yellow one labeled starfruit, named estrella for each of its five points.

“What’s this one?”

“Desastre. Spanish for disaster.” 

"Dis…as…star?"

"It's disaster. You have to enunciate the r."

"Dis…as…ster? What the hell even is that? Another star?"

Sae deadpans, and Rin mentally braces himself for another harsh remark, probably a brutally honest insult about his own stupidity. But this conversation has long evolved past fruits and colors and my half and your half. His brother’s eyes soften with shadows, as if bruised by something far deeper. A contusion forms beneath the surface, purpled and pained. Rin’s mind fills with confusion when Sae suddenly stares out the curtains again, his gaze strangely wistful. The room is so quiet he almost misses Sae’s answer.

"Yeah...it's a star.”

Disaster is a bad star.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day before Sae leaves, Rin wishes on a bad star. He wakes up at an unlucky hour of dawn, slinking past a sleeping town as he goes to find his brother on the embankment near the sea. The streets bend around this corner of the peninsula, gaping like a mouth, lips pried apart at the seams. Located between a rock and a hard place, the coast of Koshigoe Beach oscillates between two types of constant turmoil, battling the erosion of natural forces from the east while facing the gentrification of construction in the west. During early mornings, the tide is sometimes low enough to expose the rocks up to the seawall, the desiccated seaweed forming fishing nets along its edge. Occasionally, the imprints of a stranger's footsteps leave behind small pockets of water, each one a home to an assorted array of abalone and oyster shells. Rin remembers the family vacations he spent here, the storm-cloaked skies. He had been so excited to go clamming after watching every episode of Chibi Maruko-Chan. In his red bucket hat and plastic shovel, he raced to the water’s edge, his little cheeks puffed out in exertion. He had anticipated sunny weather and clear skies, the glitter of rainbow sea glass, maybe even the golden sands he had seen in many of Sae’s travel brochures. But his first impression had been one of utter disappointment. 

The sand was a dull, drab grey: a single expanse of color that stretched on forever across the horizon. There were no clouds, only the stinging brittle of salt stuck inside his lungs and nestled between his toes. And to make matters worse, there weren’t even any clams in the first place, no sparkling bits of the golden treasure he had been so desperate to bring home. He felt his spirits dampen with ocean spray, his little feet coming to a sudden halt as he stared crestfallen at the waters.

Rin learned two major lessons that day. One, Maruko-chan was a big fat liar. And two, he should never believe anything that he sees on screen. Unfortunately, his folly cost him a hefty price: one tantrum on the car ride home and zero pretty seashells to add to his collection. Looking back on it now, Rin feels a strange sense of comfort in his disillusionment. In all four directions, his home is still the same greyish wash of color, unchanging as the sea and as unforgiving as its waters. At least that is something he can rely on. Nowadays, the constants in his life can be counted on a single hand, and the number of childhood remnants dwindles down to even fewer. 

Still, he can recall one memory clearer than the rest.

While Rin had been busy lamenting the lack of clams, Sae had tugged him by the back of his shirt, pulling him to the wayside as he stuck his fingers into the earth. Obviously, Rin was too caught up in his misery to notice, but his sniffles soon died down when he saw the faintest of bubbles lurk beneath the sandy surface. Sae taught him how to dig, how to plant feet into the ground, how to scavenge for survival. And Rin followed without question.

Soon, a cast of translucent crabs spilled forth from the pits, scuttling in massive red tides. Rin scooped some out with bare hands, sectioning them into segments: the ruby shells of a pomegranate, dividing and dividing again. He held a hermit up to the light, a look of gleeful amazement on his features. Was it their shells that determined their shape or the tender bodies inside them? Rin could never tell. All he knew was that these crabs were a different sort of treasure, ones that he cradled gently with bare hands and shielded from the foraging gulls. They were creatures meant to be loved.

The waves now break across concrete fortifications, crashing upon cubic breakwaters. By the time Rin reaches the paved promenade near the shores, Sae is already there, feet drowned in the freezing Pacific, the shirasu swimming between his toes. He doesn’t even turn when the sand crunches with footsteps, and Rin silently curses his brother’s superior senses. 

“I thought I told you not to come, Rin.”

“I know....But I still wanted to.”

In Rin’s mind, it doesn’t matter if Sae didn’t want him to be there. It doesn’t matter that he should’ve never come. He’d always keep chasing this dream if it meant he could stay. In fact, any ill omen would be better than this sinking pit in his stomach, this feeling that something was about to change forever.

The twinkles of light in the sky ripple across the sea, and Rin can’t help but see the view reflected in his brother’s visage. Sae’s eyes are like the ports of Sagami Bay, hardened with the carapace of cold comfort. Absence, Rin believes, would be his brother’s ultimate paradox. Sae could do everything and nothing all at once, and he would still be both the empty hole and the overflowing home. If eyes could be waves and faces could be stars, Sae would be the coldest, but he would also burn the brightest. Right now Rin just wants some of that warmth.

“So...you’re really leaving?”

“Yeah. I’m going ahead of you now. You better catch up.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll do my best to become scouted like you.”

“Right. And then onto the world. The two of us will become the best there is.”

A silence hangs between them, loose as a thread. The wind whistles across the boardwalk, stirring up small spirals of volcanic sand. Sae notices Rin’s contemplative expression, following his gaze until he finds the moon still in the sky, lit up by the fading light of Polaris. Rin prays silently, knees tucked into his chest as he clasps his hands tightly together. His soft whispers are frequently interspersed by distant murmurs of the sea.

Please let Nii-chan be safe. Please don’t let him forget me.

The sunrise is about to start, one more hour until the day fully begins. Sae has to put an end to this, or else he'll never leave.

“Stop praying, Rin. They’re just stars. They'll die before your wish can come true.”

Rin peeks an eye open, unfurling from his tucked position. He looks to the stars then back at Sae, a familiar prickling in his eyes. Sae doesn’t even need to check to know that he’s crying.

“I just...” Rin’s voice wavers, “I think I’lll miss you, Nii-chan. At least send a message home?”

“Maybe. When I have the time.”

“Oh...okay.” Rin looks down awkwardly, staring at his feet before perking up again, “Do you think our dream can be achieved in a few years? I’ll come visit you in Spain! Maybe we’ll even play for Royale together.”

“You better. Don’t slack off just because I’m not here.”

“I know. I won’t.”

Rin had never been particularly good at farewells, let alone his first one. His voice is watery now, as if liquid and unable to be contained.

“Hey...Sae?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think we’ll make it big?”

There’s a pause in the conversation, the length of it too long for Sae’s liking. For once, certainty does not come to him as easily. But Rin already knows there is a fundamental difference to the depths of his brother’s greed. Sae’s eyes harden into flints, his voice crashing across the sandy beaches, unrelenting in its harshness but still shapelessly soft.

“We have to.”

Rin doesn’t have anything to say to that. Neither of them do. If killing himself meant living forever, then Sae Itoshi would have died a long time ago. 

He would have died and become a star.

author's note: to whoever made it down here, thank you for reading the words i’ve curated at the cost of my sleep schedule. this chapter was supposed to be a purely self-indulgent one-shot about rin’s character, but it quickly devolved into a multi-chapter fic (oops.) majority of the content is pulled from the official manga, the spin-off novel translations, and occasionally my own personal interpretation. the extended star metaphor is inspired by @hanyjar (my lovely moot) and franny choi's poetry in the atlantic. while the plot follows the original canon chronologically, you can theoretically read the scenes in any order, and the vignettes are meant to vacillate between different scenes and interactions. regardless, rin seeks the same path of self-destruction throughout all scenarios, even if it means losing himself. (atp he needs to go to therapy, and i need to go touch grass.) anyways, thank you for reading, and it genuinely means a lot to see people interact with my works!

© verysium 2023 / please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize any of my works

#fics #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #angst #dysfunctional family #siblings #character study #hurt/no comfort #blue lock #bllk #blue lock spoilers #bllk fluff #bllk angst #bllk imagines #itoshi rin #itoshi sae #blue lock rin itoshi #blue lock sae itoshi #bllk x reader #sae itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #sae itoshi x you #rin itoshi x you #sae x reader #rin x reader

[mlbigbang]

2023 Adrinette Fic Rec List

It’s the end of the year which means it’s finally time for the ML Big Bang’s yearly fic rec lists! We’re really excited to bring you our contributors’ favourite fics started this year to supply you with plenty of reading material while you’re waiting for the Big Bang fics’ publication in January.

Fate, Destiny... A Hamster by @mostmagical

After finally moving into his very first apartment per Ladybug’s suggestion, Adrien discovers something no movie or TV show could have ever prepared him for: someone else's hamster. Marinette was so excited to have her first pet. If only it would stop escaping! At least now there’s an excuse to talk to the new neighbor. (Adrinette Never Met AU)

This fic is peak adrinette identity shenanigans! Adrien and Marinette star as the next door neighbors losing and finding the titular hamster, falling in love, and avoiding an identity reveal like the plague.

If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart

It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again. How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own…. - COMPLETE FIC – updates on Sundays *** No kwamis AU - 100% Adrinette. About half of it is fluffy and half heavy. Please read tags for trigger warnings. ***

It is such an incredible balance of beautiful, heart-wrenching and funny! I adored the relationship between Adrien and Marinette, how it developed throughout, how natural it was, how they both helped each other through their grief. Just beautiful.

hearth by @asukiess

Because how do you describe a dream once you wake up, when it’s fleeting and slipping through the cracks in your mind like it’s a sieve? You can barely wrap your lips around the concepts and words before you realize it has slipped through like water, and what lay in your hands is just a pang in your chest? When every moment away from it clouds your mind just a little more, until the memories are threadbare? or: Adrien understands what it means to have a home.

call it even by @sha-nwa & @anna-scribbles

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world. Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir. (adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)

A really well-written Adrienette fic featuring Ladynoir as enemies.

All the Missing Pieces by @uptoolateart

At 14, Adrien stepped into the time burrow and saw the truth no one could have guessed. When he came out, he was changed forever. And after defeating his father, he was finally free...or was he? At 37, Adrien has everything he ever dreamed of – married to Marinette, three kids, the hamster – but none of it has turned out as expected. Marinette’s career is such a success that she’s never home, Hugo is an angsty difficult teenager, and Adrien is still struggling with his secret identity as a sentimonster. And now, Lila Rossi is back after more than 20 years. But has time changed her? Or is she up to her old tricks?

It's my actual life (except I'm not good looking lol), and I vouch for how WILDLY accurate its treatment of the emotional issues of stay-at-home-dad stuff. I just cannot recommend highly enough how it handles jealousy, isolation, parenting struggles, etc. Not me in the comments every chapter telling the author how she got the feels so perfectly right.

If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart

It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again. How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own…

So absolutely sweet. So emotionally devastating. Gets meta by taking advantage of how AO3 works at one point. Next level in every way. I loved the developing Adrienette friendship. I loved Marinette and her father. I loved Marinette's feelings about her sick mother. Please everyone read this fic your face will melt with emotion, and you weren't really using your face, were you?

Our Tales are Endless (That's Why I Tell Them) by joonapeach

Marinette lives a simple life - one surrounded by pretty dresses, fresh macaroons, and the calming view of Paris. It's a life she thinks she has always fit in. And yet sometimes, when a certain boy comes by her shop with a flower and a new adventurous story, she can't help but wonder if there's something else she's missing.

you don't even know me at all (but i was made for loving you) by @ladyofthenoodle

They didn’t remember each other. The hospital told them there’d been an accident—brain damage—but Alya had told them the truth, later. Who’d they’d been to each other. What they’d given up, and why. But even with their memories of each other gone, Adrien and Marinette are still inextricably tied together—by law, by their social circles, and by their hearts. And in the apartment they share, there's only one bed.

If you like amnesia AUs, angst with a happy ending, married adrinette, and only one bed scenarios, you need to read this fic! It's beautifully bittersweet and will break your heart before putting it back together.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ml big bang #ml big bang 2023 #adrinette #adrienette #love square #fic recs #ml fic recs #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

[its-time-to-write]

I AM RUSHING TO GET THIS IN!!!

Friends to lovers maybe with a disabled reader?? Maybe she's someone he knew from back home who he runs into at a diner she's working at now. Maybe she feels like he abandoned her and her life fell apart when he moved away?

ANyway love you lots!!!

warning: there’s a lot of parentheses (it’s a choice) and a lot of swearing (I do what I want)

reader’s dialogue/feelings are based off my own experiences so if u read this and are like ??? don’t worry about it. i’m just projecting. the chronic illness is unspecified.

LOVE U BABE

you’ll probably date her

It’s hard enough growing up in a council estate in a shit part of Manchester (although you’d staunchly defend there’s no such thing as a shit part of Manchester) but it’s harder with fucking chronic illness. It manifests is clumsiness (joint pain), fidgeting (widespread pain), and bruising (skin problems).

Not to mention the fucking tiredness.

School is complete shit all the time, and life is complete shit all the time too. 

Okay fine, not all the time, but a lot of the time.

There are bright spots in between flare ups, bright spots that consist of learning how to bake with Simon (Jamie’s stepdad) and petting Roy (Jamie’s cat) and watching horribly cheesy movies with Georgie (Jamie’s mum).

Oh, and Jamie. 

You’ve known Jamie since birth, probably, when your mum brought you home and Jamie sat down on the saggy couch, aged two, and asked, “When does it open its eyes?”

He took it upon himself to look after you, magnanimous in a way he would not have been if you were actually related to him (thank god). When he starts to get tired of you, he can go back home to his own room and his own mum and hug her tight without having to share her with anyone else.

When you’re three and he’s five, you get a diagnosis. Jamie says, “That’s shit,” when your mum tells him you can’t play, and you’re told that you echo him with your first swear. 

“That’s shit,” comes your tiny voice from the sofa, face down and covered in bags of frozen peas.

Your mum is too surprised by the first words you’ve said all day, that she a) doesn’t scold you and b) doesn’t catch Jamie as he slips by her into the house. He sits on the floor and starts to tell you about primary school and helps your mum when it’s time to put the peas back in the slightly-broken freezer.

It goes like that for years. 

When you’re feeling well, you kick a football around with Jamie. When you’re feeling poorly, he climbs the steps to your room and tells you things, anything at all to distract you from the pain ripping through your body.

It’s nice. It makes you feel, like, someone cares, almost? Or someone understands? Or maybe the world isn’t carrying on without you, that a piece of it does stop when you do, and maybe you aren’t entirely alone.

You first realize you like Jamie (like-like) when you’re twelve and it feels like ice-cold water has been poured on your head, but not exactly in an unwelcoming way.

A shock, sure, but a soothing one.

You don’t tell him, but you think he probably knows. He’s not an idiot, he’s had girls swooning all over him since he was eight. 

(And your mum knows, and she and Georgie talk, and Georgie tells Jamie to be extra nice to you and maybe a little bit careful not to be mean about it.)

He carefully slips on your small bed when you’re fifteen and he’s sixteen (almost seventeen, but it’s the one time of the year when you’re only a year apart) and balances on his side so he can look at you.

“You’ll be alright?” he asks, and you don’t have to ask what he’s talking about.

He’s going to play for Manchester (City, not United, and not the Premier League Team), and it’s all you’ve been able to think about.

You don’t say anything, so he gingerly pats your head. It messes up your hair, but it also feels like tiny electric sparks are shooting through your body (not the pain kind).

He lays there for a long time, whispering about secondary school and football and making enough money to buy houses for everyone he’s ever loved, you included.

(He promises he’ll call all the time.)

—

He does call, until he doesn’t.

Some days are good, some days are bad, and now the bad days feel like they’re your fault.

“You’re overdoing it,” your boss says, “You need to slow down or you’ll be out sick tomorrow.”

You bite back the words I’m doing my fucking best, and just nod. Fuck him, and fuck this. You can work just the same as everyone else, pain be damned. There are fucking bills to pay and yeah, this shit hurts, but what the fuck are you supposed to do. Benefits aren’t enough at the moment, and it’s been a solid two years since you’ve given up on waiting for a knight in shining armor (even if that knight is in the Premier League now, just like he always swore he’d be).

Your boss is fucking right the fucker, but you push through on Friday (it’s fucking shit) and crash on Saturday (it’s even more fucking shit).

Your mum places bags of frozen fruit on your joints, rearranging the pillows on the floor. You’ve long since outgrown the couch, instead needing more space. Your dad moved the coffee table, saying, “It’s on its last legs anyway,” and the space you called a living room now became a treatment room of sorts.

Georgie and Simon come over all the time for family dinner (potluck-style) and they are comfortable enough step over you or sit down on the floor to talk.

It sounds worse than it is, but when they’re in the flat it feels better, all warm and glowy, like things are right.

Nights are the worst, with the moving around trying to get comfortable, so you’re awake bright and early on Sunday morning. Early enough to sit on a bench in front of the estates, bundled up in your duvet and puffing cold air out into the sky.

You hear footsteps splashing down the tunnel, someone on their way home after a long night. Or maybe it’s one of the many kids who like to sneak out to play footie in hopes that they’ll be the next Jamie Tartt.

He’s not that great, you want to tell them, except you don’t even believe it yourself. He is that great, he’ll always be that great, and you should have fucking known that he was going to fuck off and fuck a gorgeous, carefree model and not you. 

(Not that you want to fuck him. Well, you do, but you also want to, like, hold his hand.)

It was always going to end up this way, you should have known not to actually have real feelings for him, you should have left it at a childhood crush and not let yourself believe something could actually happen.

The footsteps pass you by, and it’s a man in a baseball hat and an awful silk-print tracksuit carrying a Gucci travel bag.

He’s out of place here, and you wonder if he’s lost. But no, he strides up to Georgie and Simon’s door like he owns the place, pulls out a key, and walks right in. It’s only after the door swings shut behind him that you realize it’s Jamie.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, clouds accompanying the words.

(You won’t admit it, but the surprise has rebooted your system a little bit, aching limbs forgotten for a moment.)

—

“This is shit,” you say as you lean on your fucking cane of all things. “It’s one thing if it’s Simon and Georgie, it’s another fucking thing if it’s Jamie fucking Tartt.”

“That’s a lot of fucking fucks,” your father says sagely, ignoring the glare you send his way and saying ow as your mum swats the back of his head.

“It’s only two fucks and one shit,” you tell him. “And I’m not going.”

“Then I’ll tell them to come over here,” your mum says placidly. 

Absolutely not. Also-fucking-lutely not.

“I am going to my room,” you say with dignity, turning to go back up the stairs.

Your dad waves, the prick. “Have fun,” he says helpfully. You flip him off without looking, and you know for a fact he’s doing it back. You know he’ll be up in an hour with a plate of dinner and sneak you early desert.

There is no fucking way you’re seeing Jamie after two years like this.

The cane is a relatively new development and sure, it’s helpful with walking sometimes, but a cane? The fuck were the doctors thinking when they suggested this? You’re barely twenty, not a damn convalescent. 

By the time you make it to your room, the doorbell’s ringing and voices are filling the flat. You reach for your bottle of pills and carefully tap the right amount into your hand (even though you know there is no drug on earth to calm down your traitor heart).

You lay down flat on your back with no immediate plans to move. You find your playlist and slip an earbud in, letting the music take you somewhere else. Somewhere where you don’t hurt for no reason, where you can focus like you’re supposed to, where you aren’t so damn tired all the time.

There’s a tap on your door.

“Come in,” you call to your dad, except the door opens and it’s Jamie, no longer in his stupid outfit from earlier, but in a nice jumper that you think might be Simon’s.

He smiles like he didn’t abandon you and sits down on the floor. You hand him the other earbud (it’s better than talking) and let Stevie Nicks croon in your ear.

“How’ve you been?” he asks (the prick) and you have half a mind to ignore him. 

“It’s been two years,” you remind him. “Try again.”

Jamie looks stricken. “Right, yeah, I know, it’s just- I’ve been busy.”

“Yup,” you reply. “Me too.”

(The cane is leaning on the wall by the door, and you need Jamie to not notice it.)

Jamie points to the cane. “That’s new.”

“Yep,” you say because it’s not the same as yup. It has a different vowel. It’s a different word, you’re having a civil conversation, your brain is making sentences just fine.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He sounds like he means it, which is worse. “I went through some shit, you know? It don’t excuse it, but… got a new gaffer, Keeley dumped me, then I got sent back to City right when I were getting better. It’s been shit. I’ve been shit,” he corrects.

Your arm’s falling asleep so you shift, trying to stifle a groan.

Jamie’s up in a moment, all concern. “You alright?”

“Clearly,” you gasp out as savagely as possible. “Fuck off, alright? I don’t need your pity, not now, so go find some other charity case.”

Fucking flare-ups. Fucking Jamie. Fucking chronic illness and its fucking lack of a cure.

Jamie looks like he’s been slapped. To be fair, you would if you could get in the right position.

“You’re not charity,” he says, and unfortunately (and again) he sounds like he fucking means it.

“Okay,” you say. “That’s fucking mint. Thanks for staying such a good friend all these years, it’s been real fucking fun. I’ve got to lie here in discomfort, so I imagine you’ll be leaving now. Goodbye.”

Jamie stares at you a moment, then leaves.

—

It’s a good day. It’s a good day and it’s raining and you don’t even care because it’s a good day. Nothing can ruin it (this isn’t a premonition) not even stupid Jamie showing up out of nowhere.

(It’s a little bit of a premonition.)

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says when he turns up in his mum’s kitchen, an hour before he’s supposed to be home. You’re supposed to be long gone by now, but you and Simon have cheese pinwheels in the oven that aren’t done for another twenty minutes, so now you’re stuck here until then.

“Fucking mint,” you say, just like the night before. Simon freezes but Georgie just rolls her eyes. 

“We’ll be in the other room, loves,” she says. “Jamie, don’t be a fucking idiot.”

You tell him, “I’m having a good day, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fucking ruin it.”

“You’re not a charity case,” he says, and you think maybe he is broken, but like a record is broken, not like a teacup.

Jamie says, “I weren’t lying about going through shit,” and you snap (like a rubber band, not a bone).

“Big fucking deal, Jamie, you’ve been going through shit since you were six years old. I’ve been going through shit too, in case you didn’t fucking notice. It’s not an excuse to be a shitty person or a shitty friend,” you burst out.

“I didn’t say it as an excuse, it’s just a fucking reason,” Jamie shouts back. “Jesus Christ, you’re not the only person with fucking problems! You’re allowed to be mad shitty sometimes, I didn’t ever complain, so why’s it fucking different for me?”

You open your mouth to tell him why it’s fucking different, except you don’t actually have a reason. How many times did you sit with him as he iced his knee, or his face, or his arm while you iced your back, or your chest, or your legs?

Pain is pain, your fucking government-issued therapist had said. And shit if she isn’t right.

“You abandoned me,” you reply, voice small. “You left me for Keeley and I wouldn’t have minded, I really wouldn’t have. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Jamie rubs his face with a sigh. “Didn’t know how to talk to you, after. I knew you liked me since we were kids and I liked you too, so it felt fucking… weird. Dunno. But, I was with her because it was what I was supposed to do and she was mad fit and fucking funny. I’ve had a crush on her for fucking… ages.”

“Right,” you say, feeling one millimeter tall, “I get that.”

Jamie shakes his head and says, “Nah, you don’t.” (The fuck does he mean? He can’t read your mind).

“You don’t get it,” he continues. “Had a crush on her, didn’t I? Not the same as you. You were proper in love with me, and I…” he trails off.

“He was proper in love with you too,” comes Georgie’s voice.

Jamie turns bright red and you do too, and it’s like you’re kids again and he’s in your bed and you’re trying not to think about how close his lips are to yours.

“That’s… well, that’s…” You try and fail to come up with the right words.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, still blushing. “Yeah, suppose I was. Couldn’t do anything about it, then. Could do something about it now. If you’ve forgiven me.” He says it casually, like he won’t mind if you tell him to go away out of his own mum’s house and never return, when in reality he’ll burn up and die if you do.

“I will. I do,” you say. “I’m sorry too, I am. I can be a prick sometimes.”

Jamie shrugs, but he’s smiling a little. “I’m a prick all the time, love. Fucking… fucked childhood or some shit.”

“Some shit,” you echo. “So, proper in love with me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “Proper. Wrote my first name with your last on every bit of paper I could get me hands on, didn’t I?”

“Fuck off,” you say with a grin.

“It’s true,” Simon shouts from the sofa. “Found some bits when I was cleaning one day.”

Wait. Simon didn’t move in until Jamie was a teenager. That means… 

“Oh my god, were you fifteen when you were writing that? You weren’t even a kid anymore! What the fuck Jamie, you had it bad!” you tease.

“Fuck off, it was just a stupid joke,” he says defensively.

“Uh huh, sounds like,” you say as you go to wrap your arms around him. “You liked me.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, leaning down to kiss your head. He’s never going to fucking live this down.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[lady-byleth]

A thing that strikes me every time I watch Ace of Diamond is how Miyuki is both an extremely insightful and caring person but at the same time too socially awkward to make use of that

Like, yes, he's an absolute raccoon and gremlin but he plays that up so hard that most people around him think that that's all he is. Which couldn't be further from the truth.

While he's extremely bad at reading people in general and doesn't really understand emotions he is observant enough to recognise behavioral patterns and connect them to what he knows of people's personalities and experiences to draw correct conclusions. And that kind of observation and analysis is not possible if you don't care deeply

And while he will absolutely use this ability for his own amusement he typically utilises it simply to compensate for his own shortcomings in interpersonal relationships. He doesn't know how to comfort or motivate so he redirects instead.

His constant needling, annoying and insulting is his way of channeling his pitchers' nervous energy into their frustration with him and that way they focus on shutting him up instead of worrying about the situation.

But when he notices an actual problem that behaviour disappears immediately and he notifies someone else who can deal with it better.

He was the first to realise Furuya's slacking off was fatigue exacerbated by the summer heat and instantly connected it to having moved to Tokyo from Hokkaido only recently.

He was also the first to recognise Sawamura's crumbling performance as yips and instantly isolated the cause for it too.

But the next step would be seeking conversation and working on a solution, which involves addressing emotions, and that's where he freezes up every time. Because emotions and understanding them as well as seeing what's written between the lines is Kuramochi's thing, not Miyuki's. So he relegates to the coach or Chris instead.

You can also see that he always knows when his usual tactic of pissing someone off won't work and that he always tries to find another way when relegating isn't possible. But because dealing with emotions is his greatest weakness it always ends up either super awkward or straight up backfiring

Even his fight with Zono stemmed from Miyuki being too socially awkward to even remotely understand why Nabe came to him in the first place. It takes Kuramochi pointing out that someone who wanted to quit wouldn't make such an effort taking notes for him to realize he missed something again. And it's that part that makes him the most upset, not Zono arguing with him. And him being upset with himself make the fight only get worse because being as emotionally challenged as he is he doesn't know how to back down either

He's been fully aware of and bothered by this even before the start of the series so his answer was to remove his own brain to mouth filter instead...until this was no longer an option.

When he becomes captain it's suddenly not just about him and the pitchers anymore but the entire team that's looking to him for guidance and his own shortcomings end up affecting everyone

So he starts making the effort to be more open and understanding, tries to connect with the team on a different level and not always rely on his sharp tongue.

And going back from Act 2 to the start of the series you can really see what an emotional journey this all is for him and how much he grows with it. Because first he allows himself to care so much that he puts his own health at risk for the team until he learns to balance this deep caring with his responsibility as captain and becomes the reliable pillar of strength that keeps Seido going straight while Sawamura takes on the role of emotional center

Of course, he's not even close to being done growing and he still messes up but hey, he's only 17 years old by Act 2 and the growth he undergoes in just that one year we experience with him is already impressive

Anyway, this sports manga/anime has better character development than most media that claim to be "character driven" and I'm in love with it

#miyuki kazuya #ace of diamond #ace of the diamond #daiya no ace

[1galaxia369]

AQUARIUS RISING ♒️

Okay guys, I see a lot good energy radiating from you. You've finally let go and you finally realized that the treasure is within. Alot of you are out here chasing crazy (but attainable) dreams. I love that for you, there's been so much pressure on you to be normal and do the right thing but there's no such thing. When you you force yourself into that box you become unhappy and restless. The stagnacy creeps in after and then the financial issues. You have to constantly stimulate yourself, you are a creator, you create. You are not meant to get up and do the samething everyday over and over. It's the reason you feel so depressed and confused, you don't have a creative outlet or anything fun to look forward to. Honoring your inner child is important to you, all work and no play will make you a sad and depressed mess of a human being. I understand Saturn being your ruler but so is Uranus, there needs to be a balance between practicality + hard work and Creativity + eccentricity ( like come on you never been able to fit into society...standing out is your thing). You use to be so creative and fun, what happened? You let societal expectations stop you again. You were never meant to be Kris that wears a gray suit everyday and works in corporate, you're the rich eccentric artist that spends their day doing crazy spontaneous things who dresses like they belong in a movie. I'm just trying to tell you that your success and happiness comes from the same thing you try to lock away--your individuality!

You are really out here mad at yourself for not being able to do what everyone else is doing even though it makes you unhappy. That makes no sense, why do you have to change your self to fit in? why can’t everyone try to be themselves? Society is set up to keep everyone living the same story. You are here to create your own! Nothing you do will ever be normal, the way you are will never be normal and it's time to embrace that kid. Once you finally make this decision to honor yourself then you can finally see some movement in your life. The universe will be blessing you never endingly, people will be coming to you to bring you support and harmony. These new connections will be people who love you for you and will encourage you to embrace your individuality. You might have went through most of your life without any support or someone to clap you when you achieve something but this support is coming through for you. You deserve this praise and support you're a star and remember that. There's going to be success in whatever you are working on at this moment, this project or goal has been something you have been working on for a while now, results will start to finally show up and there will be a positive outcome. Of course it's successful, you worked hard on this and you agonized over it but most importantly, you stuck with it and disciplined yourself. Congratulations!

Take the next step. It's time to go full in, get your pen and paper and start planning your next steps. I promise you, success is waiting for you to take the leap. Some of you are honing your skills for perfection and professional use. Some of you are in school, or planning to go back to school for a new skillset, some of you are practicing new techniques, self teaching new skills, enjoying your talents, whatever it is pursue it. It will be beneficial to you at this time, use it to further your self or invest into what you really want to do. Remember that you're here to do great things. You are bigger than what society has to offer hell, you're bigger than what this world has to offer. Some of you are a about become mentors & guides, oracles, astrologers, spiritualists, healers, practitioners, open up spiritual businesses or open a place of healing. You guys are here to guide and heal, people want to break away from this unhealthy society and you are here to help them. You are here to show them another way of life is possible. All of this can be triggered by you making the first step, out of society and chasing your true desires and dreams.

I recommend working with crystals, you have a lot of major things happening you need some support (rose quartz,pyrite, citrine,garnet, carnelian, obsidian,rainbow flourite, clear quartz,selenite). Smudge if you can and clear out any energy that makes you feel low. (palo santo, cinnamon stick,frankincense, incense). Go out in nature you need to interact with the natural energies that mother nature has to offer

1:11 1:23

#tarot #tarot reading #astrology #spirituality #aquarius #aquarius rising #zodiac

[south-of-heaven]

shayna baszler x reader where reader is working way too much and is burnt out ?

Burnt out || Shayna Baszler x Reader

Summary: It started out innocently enough, then it became an addiction. And finally, it broke you.

You find yourself in a state of exhaustion, both physically and mentally, as you sit on the couch. The weight of your burnout feels heavy, a consequence of pushing yourself too far. It all started innocently enough, just you and Shayna hitting the gym together, aiming to stay fit and healthy. But over time, something changed—almost imperceptibly at first. The gym visits became more frequent, the workouts longer and more intense.

At first, it felt like an achievement, a way to prove your dedication. But gradually, it transformed into something else, almost like an addiction. The rush of endorphins after a workout became a craving, a need to feel that high again. And before you knew it, you found yourself spending hours upon hours at the gym, multiple times a day.

Shayna, always by your side, tried to keep up, supporting you even though she could see the toll it was taking on you. But as days turned into weeks, your body began to protest. Fatigue set in, and even the simplest tasks became daunting. Your muscles ached, and your energy plummeted, leaving you feeling drained and defeated.

It all came to a head when you finally hit a breaking point. Your body, pushed to its limits, rebelled, leaving you in this state of burnout. You feel as though you've hit a wall, your motivation waning, replaced by a deep sense of fatigue. Even Shayna's concern and support can't alleviate the exhaustion that has taken over.

As you sit on the couch, Shayna's presence is a comforting anchor. She understands, her touch gentle as she rests a hand on your back. "Hey," she says softly, her voice filled with genuine concern. "I know you've been pushing yourself hard, but you need to take a step back."

You let out a weary sigh, the weight of her words sinking in. "I know. I just... I got carried away, I guess."

She scoots closer, her arm wrapping around your shoulders. "It happens to the best of us. We all want to improve, to challenge ourselves. But there's a fine line between pushing your limits and burning out."

You lean into her touch, her warmth offering a soothing comfort you've been craving. "I think I crossed that line."

Shayna's lips press gently against your forehead. "It's okay. We're in this together. We'll find a way for you to recover, to regain that balance. But for now, you need to rest, and you need to listen to what your body is telling you."

With her by your side, you begin to feel a glimmer of hope. It's a reminder that you're not alone in this struggle, that you have someone who cares deeply about your well-being. As you rest against her, the weight of the burnout begins to lift, replaced by a sense of understanding and acceptance. With Shayna's support, you're confident that you can overcome this setback and find your way back to a healthier, more balanced routine.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #shayna baszler x reader #shayna baszler #queen of spades shayna baszler #shayna two time #the queen of spades #the submission magician

[rottenprincessshura100]

Mephisto is playing love games, and its full of contradictions. But he has a plan.

Continuing the enlightening chat started by @teuf-el.

Mephisto is a walking/talking contradiction (surprise, surprise). When he discusses demon manners with Rin; he urges the young half-demon to hide his tail and his heart. Mephisto means both the physical and metaphorical heart. To be a good demon means being rational, and controlling one's emotions. Emotions such as anger can cause a demon's heart to escape, and thus a huge surge of power. This explosive power can destroy a demon king.

This is why Amaimon is considered the lowest of the kings. He feels intense emotions; fear, rage, jealousy....and possibly love.

Back in ancient Sumerian times, Amaimon tried to destroy the world, but Shemihaza stopped him. She bound enough of his powers so he could maintain a human body in Assiah, without exploding. This empathetic act on Sheihaza's part saved him and Amaimon forever serves each incarnation. But curiously, Amaimon calls the Shemihazas his brides, they call him a servant. Does Amaimon love them, or consider them life partners. It's interesting to think about, and I think there is more to this story. Did he respect and love Shemihaza? Is that why he bowed down to the Sol, so he could stay by her side? I don't know, possibly.

That's why Mephisto considers Amaimon weak.

Yet, Mephisto is actively trying to foster love between other characters. He tells Rin to mind his emotions and guard them, but also forces him to experience them.

Mephisto takes Rin to the past on a little fact-finding mission. He wants Rin to see how bad Shiro and Satan were treated in section 13, to help explain who they were, and how they changed. Mephisto did it to build sympathy and understanding in Rin's mind. Evil isn't necessarily born in a person, it's caused by a lack of love and harsh conditions. The emotions are so intense at times, that Rin's demon persona tries to take over and tries to unleash his demon heart.

But here's the thing: Mephisto's character is like a balancing scale between good and evil. Mephisto stays in control of situations because he has found the balance in himself. This is the balance he wants Rin to find as well. Unlike Amaimon, Rin does find it. And even though he went through hell to get there, he finds a compromise between his human and demon sides. They learn to coexist.

But luckily, Rin was born with this balance already, he just had to realize it. Rin isn't a demon possessing a human body, but a half-demon with a half-human/half-demon heart.

Getting back to Mephisto. How did he find a balance if he was only a demon?

(Going into a crack theory territory here, so beware!)

Mephisto must have partnered with a human, not stolen his body and not killed the host. It would seem that Faust might be in a balanced relationship with the demon Mephisto. And the two of them work together to keep Assiah in check. That's why Mephisto can seem to be like multiple personalities in one, that's because he is. This is why he prefers to wear Tudor-style clothes. Faust likes the roominess of the bloomers...or something. That's why Mephisto can switch to any language, he takes on the memories and personalities of the people who came before.

(This is another reason why Amaimon is hard to handle. He hates humans. That's why Shemihaza had to step forward and take control of Amaimon. The demon would only respect someone more powerful than himself. )

Who else do we know is a lot like Amaimon? It's Satan.

In the current chapter. We have a big shit show. Satan was treated horribly by both demons and humans in section 13. He wants to blow up the entire world. He's too powerful to maintain a human body. Everyone will suffer. He's basically Sumerian Amaimon.

How do we deal with Satan?

In Amaimon's case, there were stronger beings such as Shemihaza of the Sol to form a relationship with Amaimon and control him. But Satan is so strong, that nothing could ever be more powerful. Not Rin, not Lucifer, not Mephisto. Nobody can tame the demon.

Is there any human vessel strong enough that Satan can possess?

Not yet.

Yuri might have been the vessel, she might have been the one to temper the Demon and make him happy. It would have been like a marriage with the two beings coexisting in one body. But when Yuri tried to escape with Satan, she was stopped by Shiro and the order. Not only that but Yuri was already pregnant and even if Satan wanted to possess Yuri, he was too young and inexperienced. He couldn't figure out to figure how to possess a body with multiple souls. Yuri was carrying twins.

Now that Yuri is dead, is there anyone who can become Satan's vessel?

At first, I thought it was Yukio. But according to Lucifer, he can't be possessed by a demon. (I think that's a complete and utter lie giving Yukio a false sense of security.) Yukio inherited Yuri's resiliency to Satan's power and might be the perfect vessel. He already has a weak soul that could be corrupted. If he uses those soul-weakening Arumumahel guns, he's in big trouble.

Also to note: Yukio is deadly smart, but he doesn't have the emotional balance in his toolkit to form an equal partnership with Satan. That kind of relationship takes love, maturity and a bit of trust with demons. Yukio will never, ever trust a demon. Plus, Yukio has been obsessed with power his entire life because Rin inherited it and Yukio didn't.

Yukio also hates Shura because she is more powerful. He tries to trick Hachiro into giving her power to him. I just think that deep down, Yukio hasn't changed. if Yukio became Satan's vessel, it would be a horrible situation. The two of them together could make a supervillain that is much, much worse.

Plus, Yukio is only 16 years old, it takes years for Satan to acclimate to a human body. He would kill Yukio rather quickly.

Plus, you need some demon love. Yukio can barely admit to loving his own twin brother...

So what is Demon Love?

Demon love is sharing a body. It's not the same as human relationships. Not at all. To be in love with a demon is to be with them for all eternity. It ain't a roll in the hay, or the whisper of warm nothings. This is a major commitment, waaay too much for a 16-year-old to handle...

(Mephisto knows this....and he's using Yukio as a pawn to get Satan a real vessel...but I'll get to that later)

-----------------------------------------

So, who else do we have?

Shiro is still out there.

(Okay...now I'm going into the Deep Dive...and yeah that's an old term, but I'm getting up there in age.)

In Chapter 1, we never saw Shiro's body after he died. We got the John Wick Chapter 4 burial. We see the flat ground and just a tombstone. Shiro didn't die. Mephisto fakes his death and sends Shiro into his secret lab with Neuhaus.

During the Blue Night, Satan possessed Shiro, and Shiro killed himself to get rid of the demon. Shiro committed suicide but was able to heal and move on. It was risky, but it worked.

What if it worked again?

----------------------------------------

Would Satan and Shiro be a good match?

If we compare Satan and Shiro they seem pretty damn compatible.

They are both rough around the edges and have a dark sense of humour, combined with "dad jokes?" They both fell in love with the same woman and share sons. They both have lived their Assiah lives in an Azazel body. Shiro is an intelligent, brave and a resourceful exorcist. He also will not tolerate Satan's crap and is emotionally strong enough to keep the demon in line.

Plus, Shiro has also been possessed off and on by Satan for over 50 years.

With a bit of enhancement from the new Illuminati research, implemented by Neuhaus, Shiro could be the one.

------------------------------------------

Now, we have two Shiros in the timeline. And this part is important.

We've already established that Yukio is Satan's other possible vessel. However, Yukio is not emotionally stable or balanced enough to take on the task.

Mephisto gives a younger Shiro the Kamakushi key for safekeeping after the babies are born. The key has multiple purposes. It guards Rin's heart and can also go into the past and to the future.

Rin uses the same damn key and visits a late 30s Shiro. He goes back in time and the Paladin realizes something is very wrong. Shiro then uses his key to go to the future to help save his sons. (This all happens sometime around chapters 93-94)

What Shiro sees is alarming. Yukio is completely unravelling and has inherited the same curse as him. Satan is seemingly possessing him. Yukio is so desperate, that he's trying to kill himself.

(Is it true? Hard to say.)

Shiro also sees Mephisto pushing and goading Yukio into an extreme emotional state. Shiro is worried that Satan could possess Yukio at any moment if he goes over the edge. To save his son, Shiro shoots Mephisto to stop Yukio from going completely over to the dark side.

Other things Shiro sees.

Mephisto has replaced him with Shura, only she's dressed in a slutty version of his old outfit. And Mephisto makes it look like Shura's his new bodyguard/slave. That pisses Shiro off too. Shura doesn't exactly faun over Mephisto after he's shot. (She doesn't give a shit about him---which is very funny)

But this is just Mephisto playing more love games. He wants Shiro to agree to take Yukio's place because he loves his son. And if he doesn't-- Yukio's life is forfeit. The entire Shura thing (well, I think I know how that'll go...but let's wait and see.)

All of this is Mephisto's sleight of hand.

------------------------------------------------------

It'll be old Shiro that comes back to help Satan, (not 30-something time-travelling Shiro). It'll be a Shiro that's seen it all and is willing to help. And it should be Shiro. Rin and Yukio shouldn't be left to clean up the mistakes made by their father. If Shiro hadn't stopped Yuri on the blue night, none of this hell (literally) would have happened. Mephisto is probably pretty pissed off at Shiro. Because just like Yukio, he unravelled all of Mephisto's plans in a spectacular fashion.

Does Mephisto love Shiro?

He will never admit it, but of course he does. He's been possessing the Paladin for over 50 years, and in demon language that's courtship and that's love. It's a huge investment.

Mephisto doesn't just pick anyone, it has to be someone he trusts, someone he cares about. Shiro fascinates Mephisto in every possible way and he wanted to spend another 200 years with him in the same body.

But there is only one way to save Assiah. Mephisto must make the ultimate sacrifice and give up Shiro to Satan.

That leaves Mephisto in a bit of a lurch. Who will replace Shiro?

He has two choices left. Lightning and Shura.

And Shura, I bet, will walk away with her freedom.

#blue exorcist #mephisto pheles #ao no exorcist #blue exorcist theories #shiro fujimoto #yukio okumura #rin okumura #blue exorcist manga #blue exorcist mephisto #aoex spoilers

[margotnetwork]

TUPPERBOX GUIDE PT.2 - FORMATTING

Since you liked the first one so much I thought I would give you a few other tips and tricks. Please do not use my samples or bio’s for your own.  If I think of anything else I will make a part 3

In order to get this below 

You need to do this; I use this site in order to get my fancy text

tul!nick “YOUR CHARACTER NAME HERE” 𝐇 𝐀 𝐑 𝐋 𝐄 𝐘  𝐐 𝐔 𝐈 𝐍 𝐍

In order to get this; 

You need to do this; 

>  There was a part of her where she knew her heart would soften and she was trying so hard to refrain from that happening “I know it’s hard but you need to open yourself up to me and I can help you do that but if you don’t feel comfortable because of our history I can always ask perhaps someone else? I can only understand how uncomfortable it must be for you” not that it was reverse psychology or that she didn’t want him here but Victoria could only do so much with a impenetrable box that had a lock on it and no key “Somethings on your mind. I can see it. What is it Vincent? Is it me? Is it because we dated? Is it your mom? You can talk to me. Or we can just sit here in pure silence which will only increase your anxiety”

If you want there to be a break so it shows up like this

You need to do this; make sure there is a space added to the middle one 

> The only thought in her head was ‘at least they were making progress’ even if it meant projecting his anger onto her it was some what okay because she could take it; “if I know someone is hurting in a relationship it’s also my duty of care to let that person go” voice remaining the same, clipboard balancing on her knee though it laid forgotten and dormant now “You seem to think that the decision was easy for me.  It wasn’t” eyes watching him pace, emotions decreasing rapidly. This is what had been held in and possibly what had him in the state where he was now “and I didn’t run into the arms of another man. You should know that I did not love and could not love another for years after you” feeling like she was in her own therapy session right now “everyone I tried to be with either looked like you or just reminded me of you and I couldn’t”  >  > Voice tender as the emotions being shared “and I did love my husband or at least I thought I did but Vin people are layered and sometimes you don’t get to see the other layers until it’s too late” not that she really wanted to go into this right now “besides I’m here to help you This isn’t about me whether you like that or not. You’ll always have a special place in my heart it’s just that some people no matter the time or situation aren’t right for each other and some people are stuck in situations that aren’t exactly easy to get out of” speaking mainly about herself but throwing in a sentence last minute to make it seem otherwise “which I’m sure you’re aware of”

If you want something like this; 

You need to use this site; 

Log in with your discord log in and put this information in the description - see screenshot below 

Once again make sure that the ones in between have a space or it won’t seperate

𝐒 𝐓 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓 𝐈 𝐂 𝐒 > Name: Sven Bjorgman > Nickname: Sev > Age: 47 > Sexual Orientation: Straight 𝐁 𝐈 𝐎 𝐆 𝐑 𝐀 𝐏 𝐇 𝐘 > Works at a hardware store in town > > Never been married but has one daughter from a previous relationship. > > She pretty much left her on his door step and he has been a single dad ever since. > > Has a dog named Dodger which his daughter found sniffing around the backyard and pretty much begged him to keep - he did. > > Has moved around quite a bit due to financial issues and has regular meetings with the court to check in on his 'fitness' to be a father - they don't think he is but he is making ends meet ( barely ) so they are monitoring the situation

#discord help #discord roleplaying #tupperbox #tupperbox commands #rph #mine:guides

[nights-legacy]

Shouldn't You Be with Them Pt. 2

Masterlist MHA Masterlist

Part One

Apologies and working it out after getting upset with the partner after basically being ignored and/or forgotten.

Featuring: Iida Tenya, Aizawa Shota, Amajiki Tamaki, Hawks, Dabi, & Shigaraki Tomura

Iida: 3rd POV

Iida had been at a loss. He hadn't even realized that he had been neglecting them. He thought hard and realized that he had missed a study session with Y/N. He had missed quite a lot actually.

"I am so incompetant." He chastidized himself. He wanted to go and speak with them but decided against it when he saw how late it was getting. He sighed and got a quick bite before going up for a restless night.

The next morning, Iida waited for L/N in the class. It was getting close to class time and they had yet to show. Iida was so distracted by waiting he didn't even pay attention to everyone else.

"Iida, are you alright?" He jumped and looked at Uraraka. She and Midoriya stood there.

"You look like you didn't get any sleep." Midoriya said.

"Oh, I... I honestly didn't. Last night, L/N and I had a... I don't really know what to call it. A dispute? And I was restless last night due to it."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I hope everything turns out okay." Uraraka said. Aizawa walked in and the two went to their seats. L/N walked in and darted to their seat.

Iida didn't get the moment to take to L/N all day until after training. As he walked their way, Yayarozu stopped him.

"Hello Iida, would you like to continue our work from yesterday?" She asked. He paused and looked at L/N behind her and saw the sad look on their face. They turned away.

"Actually Yayaroza, I have something else to do." Her gaze followed his.

"Oh of course! Another time." He nodded and quickly followed L/N.

"L/N!" He caught up with them just before the locker rooms. They looked up at him shocked. "I am so sorry, my love. I didn't realize what I was doing and how much I had been neglecting you. I have no excuse and I understand that you're upset with me." He took a breath. "And I understand if you do not wish to speak with me. I just wanted to give you the apology you deserve." He bowed to them. Ifo was silent for a moment and he was just about to leave when they lifted his head.

Y/N's POV

"Thank you. And it's alright. I was just hurt and lonely." I gave a smile before he straightened. I gave him a short but sweet kiss.

"I promise to do better at prioritizing my time. I will make sure to balance my responsibilities and correspond between them." He said enthusiastically. I chuckled at him. His shoulders relaxed before looking at me with doe eyes. "I am honestly surprised you forgave me so swiftly."

"You'd be surprised how well a true, heartfelt apology can go. I know you meant no harm and had good intentions so I can't be too mad." I cupped his cheek and traced my thumb under his glasses.

"I am truly sorry. How about I help you with your math studying when we get back to the dorms?" He asked.

"I would like that."

Aizawa: His ended good so no second part... unless you guys want one. Let me know!

Tamaki: Y/N's POV

I quickly ran towards the dorms after a stop on the way. Tears had forced their way through and clouded my vision enough I couldn't see. I calmed down enough to get back to the dorms. I started the steps when I heard Tamaki and others. I looked and saw them at the base of the steps.

"Shit." I stopped and cut through the surrounding foliage to bypass the steps. I thought I heard someone call my name when I got to the door but ignored it. I pounced up the stairs to my dorm and dove under the blanket. I curled into a ball and silently cried.

3rd POV

Tanaki and a few of his classmates watched as L/N ran inside without a glance back. They looked at each other confused until some of L/N's friends came up.

"Have you seen L/N?" They asked. "They said they weren't feeling good and were on the verge of crying."

"Well they just ran into the dorms." One said. Tama looked back at the dorms. He sighed.

"I'll check on them." He said. He walked away before they answered. He was still upset but also felt bad for snapping. He walked up to their dorm with his hands in his pockets. Pausing at their door, Tamaki had to calm himself down. "Baby?" He knocked but got nothing in return.

Opening the door, he looked around the dark room and spotted the still lump on bed. He quietly closed the door and went over, turning on the lamp. He looked at the lump under the blanket and lifted it. Underneath he saw a tear streaked, sleeping face.

"Damn." He instantly felt worse. Still upset but now double sided. He tucked them in and sat on the floor next to their bed. He leant against it and slowly fell asleep.

Y/N's POV

I yawned as I woke up, grimacing at the feel of my gummy eyes. I wiped the gunk from my eyes but paused as my ears picked up on someone else's breathing. I looked to the side and saw Tama sleeping.

"Tama?" I crawled onto the floor next to him. Why was he here if he is upset with me? My tail flicked around nervously.

"Darling." I squeaked and looked at him surprised. "You were Chirruping." I covered my face, flustered.

"Why are you here? You're mad at me." I said while cropping my hands in my lap. I looked at my hands as I twiddled my thumbs. He sighed and I saw him run his hand through his hair before grabbing mine.

"I may be mad but I'm still going to be concerned about you." He admitted. "Especially since I'm the one who made you cry this bad."

"You're too sweet for your own good." I whispered while bringing his hand up to kiss it. "I'm sorry. I should have been firmer with my friends with my wanting to spend time with you. I really did want to be with you. Don't think I didn't."

"I know." He scooted in closer to me. He wrapped his arms around me. I quickly hugged him back. "I was just lonely and I think I was more mad at your friends honestly. I saw them always pulling you away."

"Yeah."

"Come on. Let's go back to sleep." We crawled back into my bed and cuddled up. I wrapped my tail around his wrist and he gently scratched behind my ears. "Goodnight."

"Night."

Hawks : Y/N's POV

It took almost 15 minutes to shake myself from the shock. I stood up from the couch slowly and walked over to the bedroom door. I knocked twice and waited.

"Keigo?" I called. As silence followed and I began to play with my hair. I didn't ever hear any movement inside. I quietly opened the door and saw he was already in bed. "Kei?"

"I'm trying to sleep, Y/N. I've got an early morning meeting."

"Oh, okay. Sorry." I silently got changed for bed. I could hear his even breaths and realized he was asleep. Sighing, I grabbed my pillow and went to sleep on the couch.

By the time I woke up, Keigo was long gone. I took a bath before starting my day at work. Just by the workload when I opened my laptop, I knew it was going to be a long day. So by the time I heard the door open and the flutter of wings, I was still working.

"No, Darsa-san. It was not an oversight. It was..." He interrupted me as I heard the balcony door open. I looked up to see Keigo. He had a look of surprise at seeing me.

'"No, it was. It shows the incompetence of this entire team." He chastidized. I flinched and looked down.

"In all due respect sir, the irregularity only showed up after the project reached you. So I don't believe any of us are at fault. I..."

"You obviously do not know what you are talking about. You are done for the day, L/N. Try to do better tomorrow." The video call went dark. I just sat there in silence while Keigo moved more into the room.

"Well he sounds like an asshole." He said. I nodded. "Surprised to see you home."

"Long day. A lot of work. A lot of assholes." I motioned to the computer.

"Has it been like that all this time?" He sat down next to me, shedding his coat.

"Yeah. I didn't want to bother you with it so I've been..." I trailed off.

"Going out to wind down." He finished. I nodded again. "Love..."

"I know what you're going to say but you deal with enough with your job and I didn't want to add to it with mine. I didn't want to take anything out on you or bother you." Before I could even finish, he wrapped a wing and arm around me. I set my head in the crook of his neck. He kissed my hairline.

"I'm sorry for blowing up and I'm sorry for the shitty week," He whispered. "But please come to me. I want to help in any way I can. I don't want you going out and getting into any trouble while trying wind down."

"Okay. I should have told you something was going on." I smiled. He returned it and pulled me into a kiss.

"You know you didn't have to sleep on the couch." He said as he pulled away. I bit my lip and looked away. "I would never make you sleep on the couch."

"I'll keep that in mind." I finally looked around and noticed it was getting dark. "How about I make some dinner and then we take a nice long bath since tomorrow's your day off?"

"Sounds perfect."

Dabi: Y/N's POV

I was frozen again by the time I got home. It wasn't too long after that that I started sneezing. I huddled up under my blankets and duvet. I dozed off eventually. When I woke up, I felt like absolute shit.

"Damn. I must have gotten sick from waiting outside last night." I muttered. I got up and trudged into the living room and onto the kitchen. I pulled out some tea and turned on the kettle after filling it.

While the water was heating I went to see if I had any medicine. I stumbled when a cold chill hit me hard. I quickly grabbed the meds and a blanket.

"Well, you look like Shit." I screamed at the sudden voice. Losing my balance, I fell to the floor in a heap. A pair of warm hands were set in my shoulders causing me to shiver more. I looked up to see Dabi. "Dang baby you're cold to the touch."

"Who's fault is that?" I choked out through a sore throat. I got up to my feet unsteadily. He grabbed my arms and helped me to the Kitchen counter and had me sit down. I heard him sigh.

"This is my fault." He said. He turned and continued where I left off with the tea. We were silent as he made me a cup of tea. "After you left last night in a bratty huff, I remembered that we were supposed to meet up. I completely forgot."

"Yeah. You did." I said. He set my cup in front of me. I took it gingerly and reveled in the warmth. He moved behind me and he ran his fingers through my hair before twisting a few strands in his fingers.

"I'm sorry, doll." He picked the blanket off my shoulders slightly, before beginning to rub them. I groaned at the pressure. "I got caught up with crusty ass and it completely slipped my mind."

"It's fine. I should have expected it." I mumbled before taking a long sip. He sighed again before wrapping his arms around me from behind. I was engulfed in a comfortable warmth.

"Take your medicine." He said. We sat there in silence until I finished my tea. He picked me up and I tried to protest. I squirmed but quickly gave up when I got even  more drained.

"I am too tired to even be mad right now." I relented and cuddled into his chest. 

He walked to my room. I was set down on my bed and he disappeared. I closed off until the blankets were taken off and I was picked up again. I didn't pay attention to where we went until I heard running water.

"Let's get you out of your clothes." I nodded and let him take them off. I was placed in the warm water.

"Thank you." I looked up at him as he knelt next to me. He ran his hand over my hair.

"Yeah, whatever. Just get better so you can yell at me properly." He smirked. I chuckled before relaxing into the water.

Shiggy: Y/N's POV

I kicked at the sand as I walked aimlessly. I couldn't relax even while being on the beach. I looked out at the waves for a moment before letting out a scream and falling back onto the sand. I laid there looking up at the night sky. I don't know how long I laid there before I heard the sand shifting as someone walked towards me.

"I don't know who you are but leave me alone if you know what's good for you." I snapped.

"Good thing I don't take the bratty side of you seriously." I internally groaned before sitting up. I looked up and saw Shiggy. He had his hood up and hands shoved in his pockets. I glared up at him and got up. 

"Good thing I'm not bratty." I sneered back. I turned and began walking. He quickly fell into step beside me and we walked in silence. After a few minutes, I turned and punched him in the shoulder.

"Shit! Seriously?" He looked at me annoyed.

"I can do worse." I held up my hand and the black appeared on my finger tips. He just stared at me unimpressed. I dropped my hand in a huff. "What are you doing here?"

"I knew you would come here to cool off so I figured we could have one of our midnight walks." He shrugged. I just looked at him in disbelief.

"You want to go for a midnight walk now? What about afew nights ago when I was waiting for you for over a hour a walk but I came back to find you playing video games?" I asked. His face dropped before turning confused.

"We didn't plan to go for a walk that night."

"I talked to you about it that morning before. You said you needed a break and I suggested it. You agreed. You literally don't remember?" He thought about it for a second before realization came over his face.

"Damn. Do you think I'm going to remember after a full day of dealing with all those idiots? You're lucky I can ever remember being in a relationship with you half the time!" He snapped.

"No kidding." I grumbled. I looked out towards the water again. After a moment, I felt his arms wrap around me. He then nosed my cheek. I leant into him.

"I'm sorry. I know I need better life management."

"Kinda hard to have any sort of life management being the lead of the League of Villains." I snorted. "Plus I could've reminded you."

"No shit." I lightly punched him. "How about..."

"Hey you!" We turned to see a pro-sidekick. "Y/N & Shigaraki. You are coming with me." Shiggy and I shared a look.

"Not likely." I said before walking towards him. He didn't have a chance to more before I had my hand on his chest. "Go take a swim to North Korea." He turned and was off.

"Shall we continue our walk?" Shiggy asked.

"Of course." I grabbed his hand and we walked away.

Tag List: @spicy-therapist-mom @dxnaii-rxse @iris-shihabi @l0vely-lee

#my hero academia #mha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha headcanons #iida tenya #hawks #tamaki amakiji #dabi #shigaraki tomura #iida x reader #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #bnha headcanons #headcanons #iida headcanons #dabi headcanons #shigaraki headcanons #hawks headcanons #my hero academia x reader #my hero x reader #my hero academia imagines #mha imagines #bnha imagines #mha x you #mha x y/n #bnha x reader #my hero academia headcanons

[trophyorachampionring]

Nancy having to choose between Reader and Steve? ST4

Complicated Decisions

Nancy Wheeler x Gender Neutral Reader, Nancy Wheeler x Steve Harrington

not my gif

Summary: The only thing you have in common with Steve Harrington is knowing that loving Nancy Wheeler has consequences. Nancy deduces how factual that is when it becomes clear that she cannot have both.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, love triangle, changing Steve's lines ig..?

I seem to have switched from Reader's perspective to Nancy's. Hope that's okay. I also hope that this fic is somewhat understandable.

<3

Nancy’s dark locks cascade down her shoulders, face bright red from embarrassment. You watch Steve Harrington make her laugh. You watch them become too caught up in each other’s presence, making it seem like the lot of you weren’t about to dive headfirst into the unknown.

Nancy leans into Steve’s touch and you have to pretend like your heart isn’t breaking into a million pieces.

“If we make it out of here, let me take you out to dinner.” You hear Steve say.

Walking faster than the rest of the group, you force yourself to move, deciding that you didn’t want to hear Nancy’s response because it’ll further inflict damage upon the cut that always bleeds.

The sooner one of these vines gets you, the better.

You would prefer to be hurt so you can focus on something else.

“Just be happy for them.” You say to yourself in your head. “The last thing they need is a fucking delusional idiot who thought they’d actually have a chance against the former king of Hawkins to be with Nancy Wheeler.”

Someone catches up to you, touching your shoulder. The rough hands you recognized as Eddie’s were pulled back as soon as you sent a deathly glare his way.

Eddie grimaces. “How are you?”

You laugh wryly. “I feel like shit, thanks.”

“Figured.”

Your lack of a witty comeback to his insight caused Eddie to worry.

“You might still have a chance.”

“Do you say that to every person who looks at Nancy Wheeler like the entire world revolves around her and thinks that we’re all just tiny specs who should be grateful just to know her?”

Your rhetorical question comes out harsher than you thought. To further prevent useless arguments, you put distance between you and the Munson boy. “Leave me alone.” You tell him, proceeding to walk forward without looking where you were going, causing you to trip on a vine.

Both Eddie and Nancy surge forward in time to catch you, hands gripping a side of your arm.

“Fuck!” You hiss in pain, looking at a gash in your leg.

Nancy repositions her arm, placing it on your waist to help you gain balance. “Y/n! Are you alright?!” She frantically scans your body. “Holy shit, your leg!”

You grit your teeth in annoyance, using your strength to push Nancy away. “I’m fine! Just stay the hell away from me!” You snap, regretting your words when Nancy’s eyes well with tears and her hands start shaking. That’s how you could tell she is wondering if she did anything wrong or if she did anything that hurt you. “Nance, I’m…”

The girl you’re in love with steps away, respecting your wishes no matter how much she wants to do the opposite. “I’m sorry.” She says as she turns away, leaving you behind.

Steve reaches for Nancy’s hand. “She needs space. It’s okay. You know how it gets.”

Nancy shakes her head, looking up at the sky in a weak attempt to stop the tears from spilling out. She jerks her hand away from him, “I need some distance too.” She doesn’t look at Steve as she says it, considering her unsaid feelings like a liability among these trying times where it is so hard not to screw up.

Nancy’s mind is filled with various thoughts paired with the conflicting feelings she has for you and Steve. To summarize, it was a mess.

Steve is simple, kind, loving, and yes, maybe he could be dense sometimes but that’s what makes him special. He’s protective, always the first to go into protective mode whenever danger is around. The guy would put his ass on the line for the people he cares about. Nancy adores how passionate he is about what he wants. While he isn’t the champion for expressing what he truly means, Steve makes up for it by showing it using his actions. He wants to love just like the people living in this planet. It’s what he desires more than everything. Steve gives his all to the one lucky enough to have captured his heart. Nancy would like to think she desires the same thing.

He wants to be there for Nancy because no one has ever been there for him except Robin and at times, Dustin. His parents could care less as long as Steve upholds the good reputation of the Harrington name. Steve likes listening to anything Nancy talks about even if he doesn’t understand the terms. He likes making Nancy feel seen and heard. No matter how much Steve tries to deny that he still loves Nancy, it’s already clear by the look on his face.

Then there’s you.

Humorous, complicated, and closed off.

You pretend to not care about everyone. It’s a front you put up to protect yourself from getting hurt. Nancy has seen you brush things off like they’re unimportant, but you’re the one who remembers the details. You tell Lucas you’re not sure if you could show up for his games. However, you’re the first one who arrives at the place of the competition besides the cheer squad and the band. She saw you roll your eyes at Dustin when he talked about Suzie, but you volunteered to fix Cerebro when the kid was so distressed about not having any idea where else he could contact his girlfriend. Will has only mentioned his birthday once and it was when you were drunk and Nancy asked him to keep talking so you could stay awake. On March 22nd, you showed up on his doorstep with a big cake and a smile.

You rented all of Nancy’s favorite movies to cheer her up after she didn’t do well on a test. The two of you watched said movies until the sun came up and her dad complained about the television usage. Whenever you come by and she’s staying up late to study, coffee and stacks of pancakes were always waiting outside her doorstep along with cute notes encouraging her to study hard or cheesy lines. You never interrupt her study sessions because it’s hard for her to focus when people keep bothering her.

She could go on.

If she doesn’t choose now, she would keep hurting the two people who have been making her life better. If she doesn’t choose now, she could risk losing you. If she doesn’t choose now, she could lose both you and Steve.

Your smile, the sound of your laughter, your voice in the morning. You are her weakness.

But so is Steve.

And Nancy Wheeler would rather die than have to choose between either of you.

#steve harrington #stranger things #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler x reader #stranger things four #stranger things 4 #steve x nancy #steve harrington x nancy wheeler #stancy #trophyorachampionring

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

I had a lot of trouble phrasing this, I’m very sorry if it comes off as overly critical of your rewrite or your plans for it. I’m just concerned about how this is being handled.

Is Nicole going to be condemned for what she does? I understand it’s the cycle of abuse and Nicole isn’t doing what she’s doing because she’s a bad person at heart or something like that, but that doesn’t really reduce the harm or fault in the situation even if it provides context for her actions.

That’s not even mentioning the balancing act that sounds like. I can’t think of a way that Dancole wouldn’t be uncomfortable because from what I gathered (please correct me if I’m wrong) Nicole tries to get with Dante when he’s a minor and then later actually gets with him when he’s an adult. I can’t see how Nicole could stay a ‘good guy’ character after trying to date him as a minor, let alone see how her dating him as an adult could be handled well.

Tw, grooming, pedophilia, the cycle of abuse and how the themes correlate to Amaranth

Dw about sounding critical! This is a sensitive topic so I completely understand any kind of critical tone that comes with discussing it. It’s part of the deal with writing this stuff that criticism is expected.

One of the reasons I didn’t want to discuss these events happening in Amaranth yet is because I haven’t fully figured it out yet and they are subject to change with ever piece of media I consume or conversation I have, or simply just if im left alone to think for too long. That’s why my most recent posts about Dante and Nicole’s relationship were from about a year ago.

Most things I’ve said about Dante and Nicole’s relationship pre-recent discussion don’t apply. Nicole and Dante never date as adults, and in fact Nicole never steps foot in Phoenix Drop between the last chapter of Amaranth season 2 and beyond, despite the 15 year gap and all the time after that. Their relationship, which is how I will be referring to it due to a lack of better terms coming to mind though it isn’t at all to be considered genuinely romantic, lasts for all about a week during the events of Amaranth s2, and despite its brevity, it was a very bad situation and Nicole does face repercussions. Those of which I am still trying to figure out, as it’s a difficult spot to try and navigate.

By the time Nicole would face the punishments for her actions, it’s is known she is the heiress of Scaleswind. It’s known that she has immense amounts of power of Ru’Aun and that no physical harm can come to her. They couldn’t even imprison her without inviting another war. So far, the list of punishments ends with permanent exile, and to cut off contact with Dante entirely. The only conversation she should ever have with him is regarding politics and nothing beyond that. Even Dmitri isn’t a topic she is allowed to bring up with him. But of course I am considering other punishments as well as to leave it at ‘oh you can’t be here anymore’ feels too little for what she did.

But aside from it being written that she is very clearly in the wrong despite her lack of understanding, and a conversation she has with Garroth, it’s hard to try and figure out how to make it clear her actions aren’t forgivable. That’s why I wanted to wait until I had done some research to really talk about it, alongside other things of course. Because I’m still figuring out the finer details.

But, to simplify, Nicole isn’t going to be treated like a good person afterwards. It’ll be clear that Nicole is someone who did good things, but they don’t negate the bad. She’s going to be punished for what she did, and it’ll never be stated that what she did was okay.

Talking about the cycle of abuse doesn’t mean that the people that are caught in it are innocent, it means they’re victims as well, and that the only way for the cycle to be broken and to make sure no one else is hurt, is to make sure that victims are given the proper means of healing and coming to terms with what happened to them. It’s why Zane is still considered a villain even though his actions are a result of the abuse he experienced. Because he was never given the chance to heal from his abuse, he abused other people. He is not a good person, his actions are his own, but there is a reason for them and if he had been able to properly heal, or if the reasons didn’t exist at all, he wouldn’t have done what he did. And the same goes for Nicole. Both characters will be treated the same way in this regard. Zane will be held accountable for what he has done, Nicole will be held accountable for what she has done, because even if there are reasons for what they have done, there are also victims.

If anything I said here isn’t clear or makes it seem like I’m justifying anything, please let me know. And if you have any questions or criticisms about how I’m handling it, I’m more than happy to receive them. I wouldn’t post this stuff if I wasn’t open to actually discussing it.

Also yes, this makes Dmitri 15 in season 3. Older than canon but I don’t want to have Dancole happen again so it’s a needed change.

#NOT DANCOLE #aphmau #aphverse #rewrite #aphblr #minecraft diaries #mcd #amaranth

[kitsunekat9]

You're probably not gonna answer this, but I'll try anyway: Why do you hate Adrien?

Hi anon! Believe it or not, I actually used to like Adrien. When the show first started, I thought he was sweet, funny, and tried his best. But as the show progressed, he just became worse. He started acting entitled to Ladybug, becoming demanding and whiny whenever he didn’t get what he wanted. (EX: throwing tantrums when Ladybug turned him down. I’d go into detail but plenty of other people have already made great posts about his numerous misbehaviors and failures as a hero, so I’ll leave it to you to read those posts for the specifics.)

The thing about Miraculous is that it’s marketed as a girl power superhero show. Given what it’s set itself up as, since he’s the male lead, Adrien is supposed to be supportive of the female lead. (Think Sailor Moon, and how Tuxedo Mask, even if he didn’t like her civilian side at first, was always encouraging of her heroine side and reminded her of her own strength when she felt discouraged.)

Part of my hatred for him is aimed at the writers, especially Astruc, because they’re pushing this narrative of Adrien being absolutely perfect and the pinnacle of romance for a male lead. Astruc has even said that Adrien is perfect and that Marinette is always in the wrong even when the problems in the show are clearly not caused by her nor are her fault. And for a show that’s supposed to be about girl power? Propping up the male lead while constantly putting down the female heroine is completely anti feminist.

Miraculous was inspired by Asian culture and the super heroine magical girl genre. The way Astruc and his team are allowing Adrien to get away with absolutely atrocious behavior while simultaneously making Marinette look (and feel) pathetic is disrespectful to the source they claim to be paying homage to.

Of course Marinette has her flaws. But it’s harder for me to judge her harshly for that because she’s written by a team of male writers who don’t understand teenage girls and have no empathy for teenage girls either. Marinette is a bit of a spaz with her anxiety and she can be more than a little creepy with her crush. But a lot of her misbehavior is egged on by the people around her. Her extreme actions like stealing Adrien’s phone and breaking into his room to give him that hat gift are encouraged by her friends like Alya and the girl squad. She’s basically stuck between a rock and a hard place; if she doesn’t take her friends’ “advice” on what to do about her crush, then they’ll be angry at her and she’ll potentially lose her friendships. Everyone likes to pity Adrien because he was isolated before going to school but people forget that Marinette didn’t have any friends before either and was severely bullied.

Marinette’s circumstances make her far more sympathetic to me than Adrien. She’s a working class, mixed-race girl trying her best to balance her duties with her relationships and no matter what the situation is, she’s wholly dedicated to her duties as a hero. Meanwhile, Adrien is a rich white boy who’s more concerned about possessing the girl he likes rather than being responsible for protecting Paris. Someone else on tumblr has said it before: “as a hero, even if you feel your situation is unfair or you’re being mistreated, if you have the power to save someone, then you have the responsibility to act upon that power and step up to be a hero.”

When Marinette wanted to give up being Ladybug after Stoneheart, it was because she thought she wasn’t good enough to be a hero. Adrien, on the other hand, thought he was too good as a hero and deserved to know all of Ladybug’s secrets, even though they were Master Fu’s orders and not hers to tell. Marinette is fundamentally selfless, while Adrien has shown time and again that he is selfish.

Admittedly, I can sometimes be harsh on Adrien. But his fans, the fandom, and the creators’ worship of him are only making my stance on him stronger. I can’t tolerate a male lead who acts the way he acts. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and you’re welcome to disagree with me, but I won’t be changing my mind. Thank you for being respectful when you sent me the ask, and if you’ve managed to read this far, thank you for your time. I wish you all the best and hope that no matter what your opinions are, your fandom experience is still at least enjoyable. Fandom is for each fan individually to curate and I hope that even if you block me or anyone else, you can keep enjoying yourself and having fun online.

P.S. I hate him is actually just my salt tag. I’ve used it to hate on Bakugou from BNHA too. I’m just particular about my tag system and didn’t want to write salt because I already have too many tags starting with ‘sa-’ so it’s easier for me to come up with a different tag.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #text post #kitkat talks back #adrien agreste #i hate him

[riversidewings]

So this is a preview from the beginning of Confluence Book 2, Path of the Straw-Thief. The title comes from an Armenian legend where the god of fire humbled the king of Assyria and planted the stars themselves. It features River and Kasu, who are wife and wife as well as blade doll and Wielder, during the 9 months leading up to the birth of their child. The story is as much about healing old wounds as it is choosing to model empowerment and wholeness for the generation yet to be.

The story is in third person but interspersed is a series of letters River writes to her child and keeps in her diary.

As with Confluence, Path of the Straw-Thief is significantly driven by my desire to figure out one of my life's current overriding questions: what does it mean to me to be an Armenian in exile, as someone who's queer, polytheist, and basically none of the things my ethnic community expects me to be?

The answer is more empowering than I would've imagined at first.

>From the journal of River Victoria M59A1 >Shinagawa, Tokyo >23 December 2024

Dear kiddo: So we tried our damndest with IVF, and they tell me you’re finally on the way. It’s going to be awhile before you get here, and even longer before you can read this. But I want to keep a record this way, and talk about some of the things that were on my mind and going on in my life while we were waiting for you to arrive. Perhaps it will better help you understand where you come from. Perhaps it will help you better understand both of your mothers. And if all else fails, perhaps it will simply be interesting reading.

Once, I was an American soldier. Now, I work alongside your other mother in helping build the tools that help combat dolls in the line of duty, here in Japan. I’m writing you from on the road, on the subway heading back to our hotel, right after the end of a trade fair called JDDEX. I am a combat doll, honed to balance softness and sharpness, though once I was human like your other mother. And while I wait for you to arrive, I’m going to have more and more time spent at home, so I’m also a student again, finishing the doctoral degree I started, way back when. If all goes well, you’ll be with us when I graduate, with my long overdue Ph.D. in history.

At the beginning, when I was just starting in transition and hadn’t undergone cyberization yet, I don’t think I’d have imagined I’d want to be a mother. But time has clarified some things and sharpened others, and I’ve never quite felt something so strongly as this. I’ve had to fight for it every step of the way, both as a human and as a doll. As hard as it’s been, it has also been worth the fight. Somehow, that makes me all the more look forward to your arrival.

From the outset of this series of letters to you, I want to tell you that between both of your mothers’ roots, you are heir to a lot of brave souls, people who stood up in the face of death, of war, and of genocide, and fought back, because it was the right thing to do. The legends have it that our ancestors’ forebears humbled empires, planted the stars, and brought rebirth from ashes and salt from the seas. But whatever the legends say, what matters most is that they were courageous and unstoppable in the face of long odds. You have that power in you, too.

Our own parents forgot this. They saddled us with the weight of guilt and obligation and conditions on their love and support, so it took us both a long time to find that through-line, that point of greatest strength.

If we prove any good as mothers, we will have done better for you than was done for us, and you will hopefully understand sooner than we did, and with less heartache on the way. I won’t lie. Life will be shit, sometimes. But we can work to make it less shitty for others. And as long as you remember that you come from brave, unstoppable roots, you’ll find your way through, and hopefully come to carry yourself with pride and confidence in the face of how awful the world can be even while you’re trying to make it a little better and kinder.

No matter what, we love you forever, child of mine.

I’ll write you again soon.

#confluence #cyberpunk #lesfic #new books #queer fiction

[elderflowergin]

Spoilers for Bloody Heart, beneath the cut:

A couple of observations at the end of episode 14:- The substance of power and the appearance of it: From around episode 12 or so, Bloody Heart shows us the rituals of the Queen Dowager taking regency, the formality of it, the changes in her robes, which are all in stark contrast with what she can actually do as regent. it's fascinating that despite using treachery, oppression and violence, the Queen Dowager still has administrative roadblocks thrown up at almost every point. Different parts of the palace machinery are under the control of different political power centres; this made it that much harder for her to take total control early on. Lee Tae no doubt relied on this peculiar lack of power that he himself is privy to as King; there was only so much damage she could do, and everything else would take an excess of time and resources to overcome. She can threaten some officials (the head scholar) and push others into difficult corners (Minister Cho because of Yeon-hee) but she can't possibly assume control over everyone at once and sustain it for a period of time, and what time-limited damage she did do - wholesale murder and political assassination - turned out to be an asset to Lee Tae.

In some sense, it endorses Park Gye-won's view of politics, of a diffusion of power from the centre and limits to the royal family's power. From a principled position, it's hard to find fault with Councillor Park's desire to push the right sort of royal behaviour - Lee Tae grieves that his bookish father was forced into royal life and Councillor Park does not empathise; to him, that's the price paid for being a royal. You live a life of unimaginable luxury? In return, you have to step up and do the right thing and make difficult choices.

(ETA: This show explores power in such a nuanced way - be it in the harem or in the court; the way it is used, perceived and divided between power brokers is so interesting, because it echoes the same sort of discussions we had about democracies in post-colonial era - checks and balances, the limits of power, the institutions that guard the norms, the need for a figurehead. I think it's interesting that Queen Dowager compared herself to King Sejo, but she, like Yeon-hee, was circumscribed by her position and status. Could she conceivably pivot to being a lone reformer? After completely decimating the institutions and norms around her, after a lifetime of having Councillor Park protect her?)

Lee Tae/Lady Park: Lee Tae and Lady Park have been on the same page for some time, but there were fissures from the beginning. Early on, Lee Tae wonders aloud to Eunuch Jung about Consort Park's secrecy; he's clearly troubled when Lady Park is attacked by trained assassins and she and Councillor Park both claim they're just bandits (they're protecting different things, but both of them understand that telling Lee Tae something is the Joseon-era equivalent of shooting a gun: you don't put your finger on the trigger unless you want your weapon to fire).

Lady Park chose early on to be by Lee Tae's side and help him be a good king, opting to keep the issue of her late, defamed father in wait for the time being. Lee Tae shows glimpses of goodness which I think appeal to Lady Park. But Lady Park's always been driven by doing what's right, what's principled, rather than following the custom. Lee Tae makes the correct noises, but by episode 14 it's clear that his priority is to disempower the competing elements in his court, and not the welfare of his people; who, after all, would leave his palace in complete terror and chaos as part of a long-range plan to consolidate his own power? Someone who prioritises power over the good of the people. I would like to see what he does with power once he has it.

The show, I think, wants us to see Lady Park as the heroine, but it does an even-handed job of showing that Lee Tae's not the automatic villain; it takes the effort to display Tae's increasing interest in his subjects, which makes me wonder what Lee Tae would have been like if Councillor Park had truly taken him under his wing, without assessing him as inadequate from the outset. Ultimately, Lee Tae's about ends over means; Lady Park, however, has been the means to an end before and she won't let it happen under her watch yet again. It will be interesting to see how that shakes out in the final episodes.

The kids: it's the children for me, the kids who did the right thing in the wake of the horrors around them (I use the word "kids" loosely to describe youngsters in their late teens/early twenties, which I assume all three of them were):

Three young people - a monk, a royal inspector, a former slave turned court lady - from different walks of life, each of whom carried out acts of heroism that the most of the adults around them could not; all of whom had opportunities to escape, and chose to stay on in the palace and do the right thing. There was Ttonggeum, sweet, beautiful Ttonggeum who came back to the same palace Consort Park tried to get her out of (twice!!!) - who spat in Mistress Cho's face, endured torture and never gave up her beloved Lady Park till the end. There was Siwol, Eunuch Jung's entire world, the boy-monk who returns to the palace to buy his father and the King sufficient time to return. And finally, Councillor Park's lovely, principled son Inspector Park Namsan; the young man who has watched as the palace fell apart under the same sort of terror his father vowed never to see again; who watches as his father is jailed and his mother begs the Queen Dowager for his life. The upright boy who pulls himself together and puts an appeal to the Queen Dowager, completely alone in his quest because everyone else in the Three Offices has been compromised or threatened in some way. He's well aware that he could be put to death for his appeals, but he'll do it, because someone has to. What does Lee Tae's grab for expanded powers mean in a world like that? He's alive to Siwol's sacrifice, but what is the point of that sacrifice if Lee Tae doesn't use his power to rebuild the sort of world that is safe for the Siwols and the Ttonggeums? I don't think Consort Park can let that go quite so easily, even if it takes generations to build that sort of system.

Bloody Heart is a gorgeous show with so many beautiful scene sets, but one in particular will be seared in my brain: Councillor Park, walking through the blood of his murdered compatriots once again; watching as their heads line the pathway; cutting his way through eight armed guards to place a sword against the throat of his one-time lover. The regret, the horror of having made the worst miscalculation possible; the knowledge that the woman he loves and adores (adored) was responsible for all of it. If I were the Queen Dowager, I'd be thinking of that lovely line from My Country: The New Age - your sword still feels affectionate, and clearly it does; he draws only the barest hint of blood and she throws him into prison instead of having him executed as one would. But when she asks if things might have been different if she had trusted him more, he says no. I don't think he's blaming her, even; I think he knows he's put her in a position where the twisting of her mind was inevitable, and that it'd be used as a tool to compromise his Joseon, which is the real heartbreak for Park Gye-won - playing the loves of his life against each other.

#bloody heart spoilers #gin text posts #queen dowager compares herself to king sejo at one point #which is fascinating because okay valid? #but mama what was your platform? #where was your manifesto #other than wanting to be a ruler for the abandoned #wrecking joseon because your boyfriend loves her #does not count #bloody heart

[foxymoxynoona]

Another thought as I reread... Does Sasha want to control the relationship or have JK be an equal partner? I thought of this from the Zelda file, which I took as a analogous example of their relationship dynamic. She doesn't usually want his help, she would prefer to guide him, but then is frustrated when he's lost or does not understand. I don't mean to be rude to her here; I am a lot like her in relationships when it comes to control. I simply wonder and send it to you to see what you make of the interpretation. 🤣

Could probably be more eloquent, though. This might be too concise to get my point across and make sense. They are both so contradictory! It's so wonderfully human of them and also maddening! Like I could phrase the question in an alternate way too: Is JK really happy to go along with Sasha and follow her lead or does he want to step up, learn more, and take more control?

Ha. They're perfectly imperfect for each other sometimes.

🎉

Yeah, it does feel contradictory a lot! I think there can be a difference between what you theoretically want, what you do, and what's familair/safe to fall back into. So like theoretically Sasha very much dreams of an equal partner. But I think there's a big part of her trauma-brain that doesn't think that's actually possible. And in practice, ceding control and showing vulnerabilities is scary, she's not sure she can actually trust a partner like that, so it's safest to quickly to retreat to what she knows is likely to hurt least: a relationship where she controls everything. But then she winds up feeling like she's doing everything an isn't supported in an equal and fair way, because her needs have actually grown beyond that now.

Similarly, JK is so used to being guided and directed. And that's often really cozy and easy because hey, you just go along and let someone else tell you what to do! But there's a coming-of-age thread in this story for Jungkook where he's realizing he really does want to be his own person and control his own fate, and that means taking control of his life, and being an active and equal partner in relationships (which could be always 50/50 but could also mean a relationship. But it's also scary! Because taking control means you can fuck up and there's no one to blame and you may not always know what to do! And you could make the argument right now he swung a little too hard into wanting to be the one in charge, and protect Sasha and make decisions about what she needs, because he wants to take care of her! But maybe some of these were actually opportunities he should have been equal partner, if that makes sense?

The balance of their relationship definitely has shifted from the beginning an will continue to --not just how they are with each other, but who they are in themselves and what their ideal is! A lot of these tumultuous times for them I think are periods of growth. It was easy when Sasha wanted to be in charge and JK wanted her to be in charge. But then their needs changed and that requires everyone adjusting together and learning new roles and expectations! Then you get comfy. But then it changes again when suddenly Sasha needs her partner to be more than usual, or then JK needs his partner to take over for a while again, or whatever.

Anyway, there's my rambling abot your question, it's a fun thing to think through!

#🎉anon #asks #flux

[alicewritingstories]

The Mad King (pt 8/?)

The Mad King (pt 8/?)

It’s short, but I’ve been looking forward to this!

Contents: Bound and gagged, past torture, rescue, underage whumpee (17)

Diccon didn’t know how long the journey was as he was bundled through the woods, unable to see or balance properly with his hands tied. His stamina was bad enough normally because the twist in his spine compressed his lung on one side, but with a gag between his teeth and a sack over his head he felt like he was suffocating.

He stumbled, panting, and the man driving him pulled him up again, once again cracking the scabs from the whipping and making his eyes water with pain as he bit down hard on the gag. He stumbled as the man dragged him on, but kept his feet. He didn't want to fall again.

At last, the man let him drop to his knees and didn't pull him back up. He slumped to the ground, gasping, shuddering with exhaustion, hardly even aware of the sound of footsteps and hasty orders. His head swam and he wondered if he'd fainted.

Then he was pulled up to his knees again. He groaned in protest, but then blinked as the sack was pulled off his head and the sudden sunlight dazzled him. Someone grabbed his chin.

“Master Diccon, there’s not much time to explain what’s happening, but I need you to trust me.” It was the man who had kidnapped him. “I’m going to cut off the gag. Keep still; I’m not trying to hurt you and don’t want the knife to slip. Understand?”

Diccon nodded and froze as the man pressed a small piece of wood against his forehead, above his eye, and slipped a knife through the strap of the gag where it passed through the ring at one end of the bit. He braced it against the piece of wood and began to saw at the tough leather. Diccon stayed as still as he could, his heart hammering, trying to ignore how close the gleaming knife was to his eye and the way the bit kept pulling against the corner of his mouth as the strap shifted. His eyes were getting used to the light and he glanced around, not moving his head. He was in a small camp. Men in similar green and brown clothes were taking down the tents and quenching a small campfire.

Then the strap snapped with a jerk. The man pulled the bit from between his teeth.

"No questions for now," he said. "Get up." He helped Diccon to his feet and stepped round him to untie his hands. "Are you hurt?"

It took an effort for Diccon to move his stiff jaw and swollen, dry tongue. "My back," he slurred. He twisted to look over his shoulder, but then winced and looked forward again. "What are you -"

"I said no questions."

Diccon licked his lips and let out a quick breath as the rope around his wrists parted.

"Now, quickly, come with me." The man beckoned and Diccon nervously followed him over to one of the tents that was still standing. He pointed into it. "There are clothes and shoes in there. Go and change."

Diccon stared at him. "What's going on?" he asked. Presumably he was still being kidnapped, but why untie him? Why give him new clothes?

The man let out an exasperated breath. “Master Diccon, there’s only so much I can explain anyway, and you’re wasting time. There are probably already search parties out and we need to move fast. If they find us, you will definitely not get another chance to escape and nobody else will come to help you. Go and change!”

"You're here to help me?”

“Yes.”

Diccon was still confused, but it was something to hope for and he ducked into the tent.

There was nothing in there but a bundle of cloth and he unfolded it to find an outfit made of close-woven woolen cloth, hard-wearing and good for traveling, along with a pair of strong leather boots. He changed carefully, gritting his teeth as he took off his shirt and again as he put the new one on.

"Hurry!" said the man outside.

"Almost ready," said Diccon, lacing the boots. Then he scrambled back out of the tent. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with his own clothes and shoes, but decided to continue doing what he was told.

The man was waiting outside, holding a backpack.

"Here," he said. "I'll help you put it on. It's going to hurt, but there's no other practical way for you to carry it."

Diccon swallowed hard. "My… back is ribbons," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Carry it in your arms if you can't bear to have it on your back, but that'll be a lot slower and more difficult."

Diccon gulped again, then took a deep breath to brace himself and nodded, reaching out to slip one arm through a strap of the backpack. He arched his back with a hiss as the man rested the weight of the backpack against it, tears springing in his eyes, but twisted his other arm round to slip it through the other strap.

"It's got a bedroll, tent, tinderbox, cooking pot, and enough food to last a week with a tight belt. After that you'll have to find your own." The man tightened the straps and stepped round to face Diccon as he fought to steady his breathing and sniff back the tears. "Here's a knife." He held out a penknife in a sheath and Diccon took it and slipped it carefully onto his belt. "Now go." He pointed towards the forest.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Diccon. "Why help me?"

The man hesitated, then leaned in and whispered in Diccon's ear, "Lady Jocosa sends her regards."

Diccon nodded, a flood of relief going through him. "I'll say nothing of that," he promised.

The man nodded and pointed again towards the forest. "Go."

Diccon let out a quick breath and started walking without a backward look. He didn't know where he was going, but at least now he had a chance.

#My writing #the mad king #medieval whump #cw:restraints #oc