#or i think too much about its quality and psyche myself out

[chateautae]

https://twitter.com/verritaee/status/1537033041755131905?s=21&t=cAi56pLKt5f9amfLFjU2NA

This means their albums are either done or almost done so I don’t think it’ll take 2 to 3 years to make them…ugh I just don’t know, I’m actually glad we’ll be getting all this content but I wish bts and army together would know more or less what the time line is…1 year? 3? 10?

Honestly though, as someone who's a content creator, it's extremely hard to pinpoint when you'll be finished with a project that means a lot to you. whenever someone asks me about updates or when I'll release something, maybe when i first started out i could give definitive dates and timelines, but now that i'm in my second year of writing on tumblr, the burnout has been substantial. i can't predict at all when i'll release something because i now need more extensive breaks or time on my own to recharge and pump out quality work. even when i do, i feel like anything i write just isn't that great either.

we can compare this to how the boys feel. giving us a timeline, in a sense, builds expectations in us they may disappoint and also pressures them in the end, so i think being without a timeline right now is healthier for everyone. i myself despise timelines especially with creative work because it's hard to adhere to them. yes i understand what the boys do is their legitimate work, but making creative content is strenuous and they need time to express themselves creatively and musically!!

#i never talk about this but writing in general has become very strenuous to me #i still love writing and have so many ideas that i want to share #but now when i sit down on my laptop and acc type #i find myself feel exhuasted more easily and creatively find myself lacking #and i start to hate anything i write #or i think too much about its quality and psyche myself out #or i think that im not being original/unique enough and try really hard to be creative #but thats the thing #you can't force yourself to create anything #creativity is spontaneous and comes with rest and time off #so i understand the boys being without a timeline #we should let them work out things how they choose until they're ready! #anon #sammy's inbox #sammy files

[tachiguin]

hi, english is not my native language, so sorry for any mistakes... you know about the songs of bsd characters? I really love your analyzes and theories, it seems like there was nothing about songs among them, maybe there are any thoughts about them?

Hello there, Anon! I'm happy to hear that you like my posts :) And thank you so much for asking; as it happens, I do know about the songs. Though if I'm being honest, the only one I listen to semi-regularly is Tanizaki's "Bewitching Screens" (usually when I'm roleplaying/writing fanfiction with him and need the inspiration).

I do have some thoughts, though I think the reason I never posted anything about the song is because I feel like the lyrics are kind of self-explanatory anyhow, but they do reinforce my interpretation/meta of Tanizaki.

Rambles under the cut :)

His song has a very low key, chill vibe, but only at first. It goes from carefree and casual, to something with a darker, more aggressive undertone, then finally, the ending, (which I will touch on later in this post). It's representative of who Tanizaki is as a character-- the deceptive "softboy" energy he has normally, which belies his proclivity towards violence and darker psyche.

Also, it's worth noting that the lyrics kinda just come out and confirm that Tanizaki has "secrets [he doesn't] want to tell anyone", particularly in regards to "[his] existence". The song is essentially him singing about himself, repeating the usual narrative:

Maybe that’s why miscellaneous odd jobs is sort of my specialty My social status is so-so Even getting carried away is fine,

My redeeming quality is probably my diligence I don’t even want to shed blood As far as myself is concerned

But these verses always end on a darker note:

But there is only one thing I cannot forgive

But don’t cross over the forbidden territory.

Of course, I think the other reason why I never really talked much about the character songs is because I wasn't sure how much of an input Asagiri actually had in their lyrics/composition. Like sure, there's definitely some reading between the lines to be done, but at the end of the day, I felt like it didn't really tell me anything new about Tanizaki, it's just a song about what can already be deduced based on his actions in the series.

BUT! One thing I always found interesting was that his character song ends with "Sayonara" (goodbye), WHICH could be interpreted as just a melodramatic thing thrown in there for the aesthetic, but… I guess it wouldn't be me if I didn't read too deeply into things that probably aren't that deep. I do recall reading a comment once (which I cannot find atm, if you think you're the person who originally made this connection then lmk and I'll mention you if you want) that Dazai and Tanizaki's character songs both end on the "goodbye", though now that I'm actually looking into it, it's completely different, because Dazai says "goodbye" in English (a.k.a. its another "Guddo Bai" reference, which is a completely different meta that I'm certain someone else has already written)

The thing is that there's multiple different ways to say "bye" in Japanese, and "sayonara" has a certain sentimental connotation, therefore, its really awkward and a dead giveaway that you're not a native speaker if you use it in casual conversation. The correct way to say 'goodbye' to a friend would be some variant of "Jaa mata ne" (see you later then), though notably this is pretty informal and should not be used with a coworker or teacher or senior-- but I digress! The point is that "sayonara" has the implication that you may not see the other party for a long time, possibly forever.

Okay the other element here is that, assumably, he's singing to Naomi, due to this verse:

I want to protect you (I want to be here) I want to protect you (I cannot forgive this) I want to protect (the incorruptible) everything “you” are –

Which, combined with the "sayonara", really kinda makes me wonder. I think the easy interpretation to get out of this is further reinforcement of the "Naomi is actually an ability construct and her real self died in Middle School" theory, which is valid, but also, consider that the rest of the song is about who Tanizaki is. In the chorus, he asks the listener:

Slowly…look, at the illusionary screen Tell me, what do you see?

To me, it sounds like Tanizaki is asking "do you see the real me, hidden behind this facade of ordinariness?". And when he wants "to protect the incorruptible"-- he doesn't want "you" (Naomi?) to know about this darker side to him. Again, that's just what I'm getting from the song lyrics, which weren't necessarily written with Asagiri's manga canon in mind (still unsure?). But, this interpretation is supported by the fact that Tanizaki only ever snaps when Naomi is in danger, therefore unconscious, and ignorant to Tanizaki's actions following her being harmed.

Personally, I think it's a disservice to Naomi's character to think she's completely unaware of Tanizaki's darker psyche, the side of him who would literally burn the world down if it meant keeping Naomi safe, but… BSD never claimed to write women with agency :,) On the other hand, as much as Naomi acts airheaded and oblivious, we also frequently see a much more perceptive side of her, usually, when Tanizaki isn't in the picture. It's canonically stated that Naomi is, in fact, smarter and more observant than her brother, but, just like Tanizaki, this "hidden" side of her only emerges when Tanizaki isn't around to witness it.

Anyway, that was kind of off topic from the character song, but what I was getting at was that the "sayonara" means that Tanizaki has revealed his "true self" to "you"/Naomi, therefore, he's saying farewell to the peaceful illusion he had built between them— of himself, as just a "normal guy", and of their relationship, just an innocent sibling pair that used to be high-schoolers.

Hopefully my rambles satisfied your curiosity, Anon! It's a good song, and it's pretty validating for my headcanons/metas.

#junichirou tanizaki #tanizaki junichirou #bsd tanizaki #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd meta #bsd analysis #anonymous #answered

[prettyboykatsuki]

ur notifs are dealing real & true damage to my psyche ♥️ everytime i remember he’s six ft three i pray for immediate amnesia bc i feel myself losing decorum the more i ponder on it ♥️ been thinking a lot abt how he’d probably claim to not have a love language but do small gestures for u and play it off like its nothing.

example i imagine oliver being only your unofficial 🔌 but only bc he’s a freak abt u getting shit from anyone else and insists that his ppl have stuff with good quality control. which is sweet but obnoxious in a way only he can be. always insists on rolling for you. having your fave snacks for the inevitable munchies and when u press him abt the cost he claims he can think of 100 better ways for u to pay him back.

being so genuinely honest i think its hilarious imagining how his pr ppl might have tried to push him to shave. maybe to help with a better image in the press or for an awards ceremony or ad campaign that he got signed to but i would do smth drastic if he lost the scruff like……being forced to admit u liked it…..i hate that man

and u mentioned the babytrapping/roleplay (?) in response to another anon. i know that man is such an enabler during ovulation week like actively provokes u to get a reaction bc he loves that particular brand of desperation…. think of the WORST most smug individual u know and its probably oliver aiku. i want to tenderise him with a mallet!!!

resident oliver gremlin

BELOVED ANON ITS U AGAIN,,,, AS ALWAYS U SEE MY VISION WITH CLARITY

he's a lot of things you know... a scumbag... a jackass.. and for all the fights you get into over his loud mouth he is always kind of paying attention to you. he gets you the good weed, and his house always has the snacks you like (though he insists he just picked whatever no matter what) and when he can't keep up the facade - he'll act his usual self which is crass and off-putting and deliberately irritating

no one really gets why you and him are such a thing. why you can't leave him alone when he bugs you so much - but he really does just care in these very small and pointless ways that make u want to be around him despite all the other bullshit.

the whole shaving pr fiasco happens and oliver comes to tell you about it. he doesn't even really fuck you, you just kind of hang-out. he makes a one-off joke about keeping it just for you - it's not the same eating your pussy without giving you some rugburn. and you laugh and you're a little too close to him and brush his face and he kinda stops and goes "you really do like it though, right?"

its a little surprising but you nod and say yeah and he seems to like. almost visbly relax. his throat bobs and he hums, pleased and goes "i knew you did," but you kind of want to ask if that's true. does he really care that much about how u feel on how he looks? did that ever matter to him? it's not like he's not hot. he knows he's hot.

(oliver does not bother telling you that he indeed keeps the facial hair after a long night where you told him he's unfuckable without it. he also does not mention that sometimes, when you sleep against his chest - you push your face up and rub against him in a way he likes. he keeps these things to himself constantly)

ovulation week when ur schedule lines up.... u are not seeing daylight. he purposely wears his tight ass compression shirts and sweats and makes u paw at him like a cat in heat and then bullies you a bit before fucking you about it bc he's so nice. i need to go lay down.

#return to sender #resident oliver gremlin #U LITERALLY ALWAYS GET IT..... #tw oliver aiku

[drdemonprince]

i tried doing a search (although tumblr’s search function is basically useless) and didn’t see anything so feel free to pass over this if you’ve already answered it, but do you have any thoughts/essays about self help books? twice in the last year someone has recommended I read a couple (one rec was from a therapist) but I’ve always felt alienated by them, which made me feel like I was Doing Therapy Wrong. how do you differentiate between a self help book with actual merit and one that’s just useless pop psych?

Prescriptive fiction is a very wide genre with a really large readership, and it's also one where the intellectual rigor expected of its authors is not exactly high. The diversity of quality is pretty staggering. And much of the genre leans on an appeal to authority that deserves very little weight -- the fact an author has a PhD or an LSCW is really not a good reason to believe any claims they make about how one should live their life. That's not something scientific evidence can answer, even if these authors had strong support for their claims, and many of them don't.

All of my books are classed as prescriptive fiction (the industry term for self help) and I've always aspired to be really thorough in my sources and citations and to note the caveats to the research I'm leaning on, both in the text and in my work's index. and there are certainly greats in the genre. but even most of the self help books I find myself recommended suffer from the overly generic language, broad examples, lack of systems analysis, and latent regurgitation of the culture's predominant values that the shittiest of self-help books dole out in huge heaps.

Like, I love Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents and How to Deal with Emotionally Explosive People and even those books have those problems. Brene Brown's best stuff still takes a degree of baseline fatphobia as a given and tacitly endorses it. Jess Fern's Polysecure reinforces very capitalist notions of independence. and on and on. I like these books and authors! But digesting them carefully and critically remains essential. Same is true of my shit of course.

I don't think there's a shortcut to developing one's own power of discernment but for becoming more discerning with pop psych books I'd recommend:

Reading a lot, and reading widely

Paying attention to who backs up their claims with sources

actually reading up on those sources to see if they genuinely support the point the author is trying to make

Reading not only books, but journal articles, reviews, collected chapters, blogs, critiques, etc

Noticing gaps in the authors' awareness, especially regarding systems of oppression or intersections thereof

Leaving lots of notes in the margins or in a notebook as you read, tracking your own reactions to things -- which ideas seem underdeveloped or cliched, which tips seem applicable to only some situations but not others, lingering questions you have, internal contradictions you have noticed, ways in which one book disagrees with another that you've read

talking with your therapist about what you've been reading and getting their reactions

Talking about the books with others, comparing and contrasting other people's experiences

and basically just continuing to do all of that with any thing you ever aspire to learn about until you die lol. there's a lot of charlatans out there in the self help book world, but there are also a lot of reasonably accomplished scientists and therapists who have helpful insights to share but write in frustratingly simplistic ways because that's a hallmark of the genre and what publishers believe laypeople need in order to understand. this means it can be difficult sometimes to tell the difference between a decent idea put way too simply and a shitty idea phrased compellingly. but i think basically the only way one gets better at telling the difference is by reading a lot and thinking a lot. this stuff comes pretty naturally to me now but that's only because i've spend about two decades doing it nonstop.

[datamodel-of-disaster]

Ask game time! Thanks for the tag, @filmamir!

1. Are you named after anyone?

I keep saying if I do anything noteworthy enough in my life to deserve a wikipedia page, someone has to add me to List of things named after Bernhard Riemann - Wikipedia, so... yes.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Yesterday night, and also, longer ago than I remember. Are the tears mine if the sadness isn't? It be like that sometimes.

3. Do you have kids?

No, and thank the powers that be (mostly contraception) for that!

4. What sports do you play/have played?

No real sports, unless highschool PE counts. I was a fervent and pretty skilled skier for a while but my partner is afraid of skiing and its too expensive to go on my own, so it's been years since I did it.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Not as much as you'd think. I'm a painfully sincere person much of the time.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

I hate to be *that* person, but... their vibe. Fake car salesperson smiles, awkward "haha we will ignore that!" silences, confrontational high-schooler convo style... Some people just have fucky energy, idk what else to say. That said, my actual opinion of people takes a while to form -it's like a committee vote more or less.

7. What's your eye colour?

Blue-green

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings all the way. I can watch unhappy endings if the movie is aesthetic(TM) or it's more about the art or history of the film than the narrative, but if I'm immersing myself in a story-story, the person(s) the narrative makes me root for better fucking make it to a happy end.

I'm very selective about scary movies: they need to be aesthetic, and satisfying.

9. Any talents?

... not... really? I kinda struggle with linking my qualities to "talents". I don't have many (if any) things I'm just "naturally good" at; even skill sets I'm now proud of were not something I ever had a natural aptitude for, and if I developed a skill it was 99% of the time out of necessity rather than enjoyment.

I guess I have... shockingly broad bandwidth for other people's issues. Like... interpersonal exhaustion? I don't know her, man. Mostly due to a combination of voyeuristic enjoyment of knowing and understanding things about others, my sense of empathy being almost entirely generated through fine-grained psych analysis rather than instinct, and the *very* odd given that my own personality temporarily stabilizes when exposed to interpersonal input. I'm not sure that's a talent so much as a condition, though xD

10. Where were you born?

Belgium

11. What are your hobbies?

At the moment, mostly writing Tron fanfiction. I also draw (sometimes), paint and kitbash Warhammer 40k minis (been a while), do metalwork (I need a new welding helm T_T), do gothic and fetish modelling, thrift and collect things for my house, etcetera. I cycle through hobbies mostly. Writing is my most stable one -I dare say I keeps me sane.

12. Do you have any pets?

I have a cat! Her name is Meoi (Quenya for "Cat", in honour of Huan and terrible Feanorian naming traditions -retired Silmarillion fan here)

13. How tall are you?

1m70 but most people assume I'm a good bit taller because I'm broad-shouldered and always in 17cm platform stilettos.

14. Favourite subject in school?

Oof. Tough one. I've been out of school for a good long while. The person I was in high-school would have picked physics, followed closely by math. Leaving the following period in the middle (lalala), at uni *in the major I actually graduated from*, my favourites were Architectural Theory, Medieval Image Culture, and Visual Analysis.

15. Dream job?

Oof again. Opinions divided on this one.

I like to say my dream job needs to meet the following criteria:

- I am competent at the job and reasonably regularly get this confirmed by others

- Every day at work I know largely what is expected of me, and what is expected fully falls within my capacity to deliver.

- I have tangible, well-described tasks and goals and never have to "be proactive about finding more work" or "try to look more productive".

- I have good coworkers I get along with, at least professionally.

- No extraneous admin tasks or timesheet micromanagement.

- GOOD PAY

If I'm really ambitious, I would add to that:

- I'm an expert (or just really, really good) at it.

But let's be honest, actual dream jobs Riemann over here has dreamed of having or pursuing? Interior designer/stylist, professional fetish performer/pro-domme, and Enterprise IT Architect.

Yeah.

You see why I stick to bullet point lists.

Tagging... @bowiesinspace @inquisitor-gayfax @clevermird @et-novum and everyone else who feels like it!

#meet the disaster #tag game

[catchmeifyoucansalvatore]

Killian,

I rewrote the beginning of this letter over and over again. Nothing remained for long but your name, staring back at me from the first line, forcing my heart to crash against the walls of my chest; like an animal in a cage. I feel your absence like insects miss the light and I fear that my days, even if they are filled with the realisation of my trivial little desires, will become nothing more than a heap of indissoluble darkness.

I understand that it was my choice to cut across the ocean and that only I have to deal with the disastrous consequences of my ambition - but, at least for this moment, while we're alone, can I afford the luxury of regret? Of your qualities, the fact that you didn't judge my reckless attitudes was always one of the most beautiful, always ready to hold my hand when the journey I chose was too long for my lungs - always ready to catch my body exhausted by risky decisions.

England has been nothing but unfinished lessons and petty desires. Lucy has been very patient in teaching me the piano; for the first time in two months, she hasn't used the whip to correct my wrong movements. I've been reading tirelessly, the history of the stars, of the earth, of human nature in its most liquid form; I say this because we are taught that, apart from bodies, our greatest insight into human beings lies in their minds, not just in the way their skin protects them or their organs operate, but in their psyches. With so many discoveries, I feel even more insane. It's as if knowing how the human brain works is gradually melting mine almost completely - not because it's too much teaching, too much content or too difficult, but because studying feelings makes them too real. And feeling always brings me to the point that I miss you. I miss you so much that I could jump right out of this window if I were sure that you were waiting for me. I'd choose to drown myself in Lake Buttermere, where we practise arrow shooting, just to make sure you'd be there... Sitting under-water... Waiting for me.

Silly... I know.

I think of New York every night. I think of you as soon as my eyes open in the morning and every time I'm transported to the world of dreams. I think of you when I'm alone and when the world of literature seems to say your name; those damned poems, about soul, body and hearts that coil around each other like snakes. Killian. Killian. Killian. I think of you at the most inappropriate moments a lady should think - or be. Like when Gennevivie removes the ties from my dress and I remember how quickly your fingers slid through the silk, knowing my armour as well as my body. I think of you when I bleed, certain that this is the only way to endure the torments of my new life; I think of you every time I wonder how long it would take for Vronsky to realise that one of his poisons is missing. I think of you with the same rebelliousness, harshness and brutality as a viper on fire.

But you don't belong to me. Of course you don't.

You promised you'd save me. And you said we didn't need much. You made me believe that my choices were right, that all my sacrifices would somehow, if you were the right person, return me to your arms.

And I hate you so much for making me believe that.

You said I should finally use this time to write my book. To let my mind run wild, through the poison of pain and loneliness and sadness and despair, to untie those knots, to spit out my insanity and the acid sweat that you said was pouring from my collarbones; you said I could use my words to spill my demons out of me, like rain, like blood from my wrists.

But, my love, my evil darling... In this hell, all my damn words are about you.

I dream of being in your arms again. After our great war; when we're out of danger.

When our enemies disappear.

If we are unable to realise our dream,

Who knows, I think to myself, alone, in the waves of my despair,

Would you save a bullet for me?

With aching love,

Yulia.

ps: please remember to burn this one too.

Yulia Skarzara's letter, from the Kazhiev Chronicles by A.L.

[sunshinexlollipops]

hihi!! was just wondering if you ever plan on finishing ACW? its been ages since i first read it and i find myself coming back to it so often. love love love your writing, i've never felt so engrossed in a piece of fanfiction before!!!

hi anon!

thank you for all your support and love about ACW! even now it amazes me how people read this story and just cherish it as they do. ACW connected with people in a way my fics never did prior to it. one reason I love it so much!

well wishes to you anon, and thank you sm for your ask! 💕

but the short answer to your question: yes, 100% absolutely. I do plan to finish ACW. may take me a while, but imma do it.

but here is the longer answer:

I have... unfortunately a lot going on right now. my radio silence + pause on writing wasn't meant to be this long or even a thing aside from taking the time to write the final chapter entirely and prep it for uploading.

the idea was to upload the chapter in its parts day by day until completion, and intended to prevent you guys hanging in between crucial updates for long. unlike the previous method, where I uploaded 1 update at a time, as they were written. the final chapter has a lot of heavy hitting moments and huge plot events. some of these I didn't want to leave you guys sitting on for weeks in between the next update. also, I didn't want to kill the vibe and flow of the last chapter by doing it a piece at a time and the next update time be "TBD."

but due to the pandemic and compounding life/personal issues, I kinda crashed and burned since going on an unintentional hiatus. from mental health stuff and physical health stuff, I basically have been dealing with this since I quit my job in April of '21. which was a whole other situation altogether...some know but basically it was shit and it really messed with me.

I'm doing a SHIT TON better now and have gotten a good psych and therapist behind me. also new medications have helped for things like my OCD + ADHD, for example. it's not that I necessarily am against detailing some things to y'all, but... it's a LOT.

bc you know those memes about author's notes on fics? how they'll be like "hey sorry this may have typos, I nearly died from organ failure last week and I'm in the hospital recovering, so sorry if the quality is not up to my status quo!" ???

yeah. dat me.

but with a list so long idk where to start and how to explain everything to y'all. just know I've been going through it. and it's not to demand pity that I say that, but it's more so to offer some light as to why my break has been so long + why I've been almost MIA and not writing during it.

in general, I haven't written practically anything during this time. not trying to dismay you about ACW, bc that has NEVER left my mind, but more so I just haven't been able to connect back with writing. I disconnected from practically all my outlets (hurr hurr depression 🤪) and it hasn't been easy to reestablish it. doesn't mean I won't, or it's impossible. but it may take me some time to find that piece of me again.

currently, I'm about to try and start a specific therapy program that can help me, and I'm going to hopefully be getting assistance during this time too. this is an improvement considering I have been dead in the water for the last 2 years and change. so I hope the improvements continue, and with more direct help and support I can continue with betterment and hopefully get back to a lot that I lost.

so apologies for how long it's taken, just know I've been thinking about ACW right alongside y'all. I miss it like y'all do. and I hope I can send her out the way I want and need to. I also have some ideas/changes and I'm hoping I can also surprise y'all with these if I can make it work!

remember— HAVE FAITH. ;)

also, a bonus for you having read all that mess, a pic of my kitty's lil face. 💕

#acw #amidst a clash of worlds #luffy asks #anon #anon ask

[prnanxiety]

may i ask at what point you think it'd be a good idea to go to a hospital and/or psych ward?

i (minor, F) believe i'm in psychosis rn (pretty heavy hallucinations & delusions, occasional limited vocab to the point i can barely talk or get my point across, negative symptoms, paranoia, etc) but i'm not sure if i'd need to go to a psych ward since (i think?) i'm not a danger to those around me, like no voices commanding me to do horrible things; i can sometimes lash out but i think that's due to my poor upbringing and it's not anything new

apologies if you aren't the person to ask for things like this, i'm still new to this whole thing and simply want this to be treated

Augh, this is a tough call for me. I haven't had to be the one to make this decision before. A friend of mine who I occasionally mention in these asks has told me I'd be a good "crisis intervention" nurse, which is essentially the nurse who decides "who goes to the ER, who gets admitted," etc. I imagine it would boil down to answering this question every day.

So, I'll just answer from personal experience. I can't speak for your situation, because we're not face to face, or on a video call or something. I can't observe your symptoms for myself. If you really are in psychosis, then you have insight, which is the greatest asset you can have. I'm just saying that to suggest you have a point in your favor, if its truly that.

What determines level of care is not so much level of threat; that's more about involuntary vs. voluntary, I think. It's really more about, how sick are you? How able are you to function independently, with good quality of life? How much help do you need?

Because I can't see your symptoms, I, AS SOMEONE WHO IS NOT GIVING YOU MEDICAL ADVICE, would think the best course of action would to see someone as soon as possible, with the goal being to make that determination. But, it doesn't have to be an ER. Pending your resources, there might be a psychiatric urgent care near you that you can go to for this. That would be my first bet, for a quick assessment that would only result in an ER trip if you were truly an immediate danger to yourself or anyone else. Do you mask your symptoms?

If you're a minor, and you're in school, is there a counselor, or a nurse, that you can confide in? Someone who can do that discretely for you? Your symptoms may not ever even necessitate going inpatient, they might be treatable entirely outpatient at a clinic.

I will say, though, I have seen patients admit themselves to ERs voluntarily for things like this before. One young lady I met was in her mid 20's and hearing things related to a prior trauma and negative upbringing she had, too. She knew she was having hallucinations, and more importantly, knew she had a family history of schizophrenia. So she admitted herself to the ED just to get started on treatment. I can't remember if she was suicidal in the moment or not, that may have been what got her admitted specifically. Her stay was short and, if I remember correctly, uneventful.

As an aside, I ended up spotting her in the cafeteria of my hospital a few months later, laughing with someone, clearly there to visit someone in the medical part of the hospital. Took me a minute to figure out how I knew her, but once I remembered I was really happy for her. At a glance it looked like whatever outpatient treatment she'd been getting was going well.

I'm not going to end this on some kind of summary of everything I just said, because I don't want you to think I'm giving you medical advice. I refuse to do that with this blog. I just want you to know, it sounds like you've got some symptoms that deserve getting looked at, so, the best time to do that is now. I hope you share with a professional you trust, when you feel its safe to do so.

#ask #nursing #psych #psychiatry #nurse

[rakuya-nikki]

One Piece - Entry #2

It would've felt weird for some of my first post to be some random thing, so I wanted to start off by highlighting my latest life-changing piece of media: One Piece

A few years ago, I was hitting the workout routine really hard. Pedaling on the stationary bike for 40+ minutes almost every single day. In order to do that, you either need the patience of a god, or more likely, something to entertain yourself with. I've been working out for several years now, so I was already in the habit of watching some kind of YouTube video or show while pedaling to make the time less dreadful.

I had just finished going through Gintama, a great show that I really loved, and realized that I needed a show that would last a good while. A really good while, preferably. And what show is more notorious about its length (for better or for worse) than One Piece?

I was already intrigued by its basic idea, but otherwise I didn't have any expectations other than two things:

It was long, meaning I could rely on it being workout entertainment for a very long time!

People really loved it. Like, so much.

So, I got into it, and, it didn't take long for me to really like it. Just watching it in its original 4:6 quality gave me a rush of nostalgia for a time I didn't partake of much as a kid. Even to this day, the older seasons of One Piece give me intense nostalgia, too.

But man, the show wasn't huge on battle scenes or anything bombastic, but it was still interesting enough to make me want to keep watching, and thus, keep working out. Already, a big winner, and even in the first couple hundred episodes, I could tell I loved the show. Already, it had been doing everything I wanted a show to do, and even a bit more!

There was a period a few months later, around the Thriller Bark arc, where my motivation waned. I stopped caring too much about the show, because honestly, that arc felt more like meandering than the other ones, and its aesthetic (Halloween-typed spooks) was never something I loved. Not to mention I was just low in energy in general. I don't think it was quite this intense, but there definitely were a few points where I just did not want to get back into the groove of watching it.

But something spurred me to continue watching, and continue exercising. So I did, and it was the best decision I had ever made.

The Summit War arc that soon followed was intense, and honestly, it got me so vehemently invested that I... stopped using the show as workout fodder. Instead, I just... started watching it outside of my exercises. Something I pleaded to myself not to do, because the whole point was to maintain something to keep myself working out. But by that point, I couldn't just not watch anymore. I couldn't go at the pace of two episodes a day. I needed to consume it.

I don't regret it, really. Sure, my workout pace is still kinda bad compared to before, but I feel like that's due to other outside factors. In the end, 500+ episodes deep into the show, I realized that this was something that was going to change me.

I don't really know exactly when it happened, but at some point, the show started to overtake me. Even more so than any other form of media had. Not to the point where I made it my whole personality, or obsessed over it. I've never really been one for obsession, there's too many things in life that I like. But, man, this got pretty close. And at the very least, at some point...

The show became a new king of media for me.

In the past, the only forms of media that had a stranglehold onto my psyche were things like Zelda, or... Well, it's hard to think of an example that fits alongside the Zelda series. And yet, here One Piece was, rivaling it!

It's hard for me to put into words what it was about it that gripped me as much as it did. Luffy, one of my favorite characters in fiction now, was a perfect vessel to explore what it was that I felt in my core, that was missing. Pure sunshine, a sense of adventure and unwavering will. Extreme loyalty to himself and his ideals. A good heart but not a platitudinous one. And just the sense of comradery that I love in any fiction, a kind that makes me want to be a part of that group.

Perhaps, if it were just one thing that gripped me, then it wouldn't have gripped me much at all. Maybe that's the point, the grab bag of so many things that resonate with me. The extremely in-depth world building, the great character writing, the overall narrative, the fun and diverse power system, the themes of anti-government and freedom, the memorable and fun art style.

I don't know how I'll feel about One Piece in the future. How it'll develop, how it'll end, how my thoughts will evolve. But I can say, without a doubt, that it has left a mark on me. To the point where, some of the ideals I may write about in this journal system will be inspired from the show, in one way or another.

I want to journal because I want to explore and experience the world, and I want to be able to remember those experiences. A motivation I've always had to some extent, but that One Piece truly fleshed out and revived. I'm still in the process of healing my hesitation and anxiety, the chains holding me back from doing whatever I want whenever I want. And as much as I try, I always end up feeling fatigued, my body unable to keep up to my ideals.

But hopefully these journals can at least help me remember the things that I do experience. And, as unforgettable as One Piece is for me, I figure there's no better way to start than going over my little experience with it.

#one piece #op #journal #journaling #diary entry #personal diary #diary

[semischarmed]

Mine

Many coaches have come and taught the many iterations of our university team. Over the years, these coaches, like players, come and go. Good ones are hard to come by. Great ones are once in a lifetime. That was our Coach James.

He had a fatherly quality to him. There was a warmth in his training, a brightness when he would teach us. When we succeeded, he helped bring us up further and when we failed he softened the blow with his wisdom. Coach was great like that. Strictly professional, of course, but with a layer of genuine friendliness and a desire to watch us all succeed. He really was the perfect coach and we were blessed to have him. Still, in my lust, in my pure selfishness, I knew I had to have him- all of him to me and me alone. One long summer day, I ask for some one-on-one training. Never one to turn down a teaching opportunity, he complies. Like I said, he was a great coach.

I decide this would be the day. I run, but not too well. I throw, but haphazardly. That’s all it took for him to lean in. That’s all it took to get him close. Of course, he came with pure intentions- I did not. 

When he is right above me, when I feel the vibration in the air from his chest, when I feel his raw power and vitality. That is when I strike. I fuck up my throwing position a little more, and he guides it proper. Fuck yeah. Jesus, I could stay like this forever. I feel the resonance of his deep voice within my very soul. Beckoning to me. “Become me. You want this. You deserve this,” it taunts. He was still coaching me, sure, but my mind is preoccupied with dark intent. 

These gentle breaths as he speaks- these steady hands guiding mine to a better position. These would be my truths now. A most intimate of trainings. Coach James would be training me-sure- he would be training me to use that bod. I stare at him with longing. He would never look at me that way. God, I wanted him so bad. We glisten with the sweat of the midday sun. I could melt just like this. And in fact, I do.

In that grasp, in that teaching moment, I decide to teach coach a couple tricks myself. I look up at his face. Earnest. Strong. Patient. I watch his lips- they’re still moving- he’s still guiding me. Good. He hasn’t noticed my body begin liquifying. He continues on, unfazed. Unconcerned. He always did have that humble strength about him. 

I am drawn to those plump lips, to his perfect smile and the void behind them, to the force of his breath over me, and to the very vibration that created them. I am drawn to that body which I would make mine. I wrap his thick arms around me. Those goddamn arms. They pulse and tense in surprise. He finally catches on. “- Hey. What are you doing? What.. What is this?” I pay no mind. A breeze picks up and his scent fills me. I wrap myself in it. Old spice deodorant layered over the pungent, musk of a man. My man. My scent, soon enough. The air was ripe in pheromones. Testosterone. James. I inhale deeply, trying to catch as much of him as I could. His skin is nice, too. It’s a bit damp, a bit hot from the heat, but nice. I feel them stretch taught, struggling to contain the mass of muscle beneath. I draw his shocked embrace even closer, uncomfortably close. I feel him between concern over my melting form and a need to push me away. Works for me. I continue to liquify further. Faster. You will be mine, Coach.

The world stops for a moment- at least for me. Maybe adrenaline, maybe my imagination. I commit this scene to memory, the scene where I become something greater. The scene where the real Coach James is born.

I shoot up his nose and flood his mouth. His body is forced to gorge itself with my mass. With every breath he attempts to draw, he pulls the liquid me instead. He retches, attempting to vomit me out, but I just draw myself further in. Flooding and flooding, I saturate coach with myself. When all but the last of me is a dribbling of slime upon his cheek, I disperse inside him. I drill into his every crevice, swim through his bloodstream, bond with his ever piece. I settle deeper and deeper inside my coach. Until his body no longer recognizes my presence as foreign. Until I am coach. I incubate into him, my pieces dormant. 

Coach James awakes in the grass to the odd sight of a star-filled sky and a cold night breeze. “What the fuck...” he ponders, rubbing his head in confusion. He aches all over, yet he isn’t hungry. He digs into his memory, attempting to piece together the past few hours. I just spent them digesting this afternoon so he would have no success. 

Unclear on the past events, yet unfazed, he walks back to his car and heads home.

———

That first night was magical-for me. As for coach, I’m not quite sure. I am ever present in his dreams. Pleasure, I think, is how I’d describe what being inside James was like. In his dreams, in his deepest thoughts, I lay there to witness them. These were thoughts, these were ideas, these were emotions that only I would be sole witness to, along coach. Ecstasy. This was a piece of him we would share alone. I was like a part of him, and only I would know him fully to this extent. 

In the next few days after the events of that afternoon, Coach appeared a little more vain, a little more irritable. To my teammates he just seemed off. They catch glimpses of him checking himself out. They hear the barely audible moans from his office as he delicately feels his every part. 

“What the fuck was up with coach” They say. Little did they know the real question to ask was ‘what was up’ IN their coach. Little did they know it was the influence of their missing teammate, ingraining himself deeper and deeper into his beloved James.

Despite the changes, my coach resists me. The further I try to bond, the more his body rejects me. It is a 3 day affair. A push and pull. With every push, I gain momentary connection to that bod, only to have that fulfillment ripped from my now non-existent hands. He was a coach, after all. I should have known it would be a battle of wills. Still, there was someone I had that coach didn’t have-yet. My mind. I had a cleverness match-made for that hot bod. A cleverness he deserved. A cleverness that I would utilize to the fullest to make that match a reality. Coach was a happy, content man. I was not. He needed my ambition, my cleverness, my lust. That body deserved better.

I let up the assault on his mind. He feels himself winning, backing my parts into a corner. It’s here where I apologize profusely inside him. He accepts because, James was the kind of guy to pick someone up when they’re down. He accepts my apology foolishly as we decide upon the best way I may leave him. A chance. We decide to do so in the privacy of his home- for my sake, of course. Little did he know, I felt his resistance weakest there. He readies himself for my exit, relaxing so I may flow out of him. I ready myself for one final push. It was in that moment that I surround coach with my psyche, encapsulate his very soul.

 Coach James wakes up making an odd face his body has never made. It was a lustful, sinful grin. It was my grin. I start chuckling. My voice is deep, booming. We moan together as my dormant parts stir. We moan as it starts convulsing. The shaking was harsh. I puppet this body still and eager to accept more of me. It takes some resistance but it finally yields. Nothing good comes easy, after all. I stick my parts take their rightful places. Those bulging, slick arms? Mine. Powerful, vascular legs? Also mine. That thick, veiny cock? Fucking. Mine. I feel them inside me- I alight as his energy becomes mine. We tickle. We feel great. At long last, this body was mine. 

No. Further. I want everything he ever is, ever was. James was gonna give me that. I wanted permanence. No one would ever tear us apart. I decide on his soul. I decide on becoming that as well. I string his soul up, prisoner in its own body, unable to do much of anything until transformed by the poison of my very being. In the meantime, I pleasure my new self to grant him a taste of what we could have, what we could be, once he yielded. I use those thick python arms as my own. I gingerly trace my a newly muscular inner thigh. I shiver in delight. Fuck. We were sensitive. Who knew?

I stare at myself in the mirror. Oh god, oh god this was real, he was truly mine. “Here’s how to use this bod correctly” I mock in that gentle, instructive tone he had. I rush up to the mirror and start making out with myself. It’s cold. It warms up as I continue to lap at it with my tongue, as I continue to smear with these new plump lips of mine. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff, coach” I moan as him. The room is humid, dripping with pheromone, hot from the heat I am emanating in wearing my beloved coach. I touch my new dick for the first time, feeling his soul rile up. I feel his teaching sensibilities corrupt with my desire. As any good coach knows, never let them have a chance to fight back. Before he has a chance to react to my newfound control or my actions, I pump quickly, determinedly. Yeah. Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. Coach’s body was fucking hot. This was a fucking dream- Oh My god. “Oh. Oh. oh” Our moans ring like music to my new ears. And in that final resonance, I release with only one thought: “I’m Coach James”. His hand shakes in resistance. This was it. I force the hand still. Command it. It was my hand after-all. I scoop our cum in my hand. I give my hot new reflection a playful wink. “Bottoms up” I say to us both. Sweet Nectar. My Nectar. With every taste and of his own milk, he perverts own senses, dilutes his very self. He has obviously never tasted himself to this capacity- because I finally feel his soul reflexively bond to mine. He tries to pull back. Like I’d let him. I greedily keep us tethered together. Then, he relents. There’s my James. 

When he finally yields I feel his memories, his feelings, hopes open up. I take them all. Distort them. I take all of him into me, meld them with myself until we were but one soul. They were me, now. My memories, sure. My senses. My feelings- fuck yeah, but inundated, saturated with my lust. Hopes- not a fucking chance. My hopes and dreams for this body are far greater. Coach James was greater that that. I was greater than that. I am the James the world deserves. 

I am left panting by the end of it. Ecstasy reverberates. It’s all me in here, baby. My coach- I was reborn. Tears stream down my cheeks. “Call me James” I say with newfound truth and intent. That name came naturally to me. I was fully him, after all.

———

‘New James’ is fucking kinky. Dirty. Narcissistic. As much as I love bossing around the kids, I love playing with myself even more. I got some great parts. Look at this fucking bicep. Teaching? Fuck that. Fuck the team. New James is ripe with ambition and power. “James Harrison got better fucking things to do that teach some stupid fucking kids,” I spit in the mirror as caress myself. Yeah. This bod’s a fucking power trip. So much more New James can do with his time. 

“New” might be a bit of a misnomer. I am James, in body mind and soul. I am James, in past-present and future. All he ever was? All he ever will be? Me. I am James, forever. And I aint no fucking coach.

-End-

Just a quick one.

#male possession

[weirdmageddon]

i may or not make another blog to put down my typology thoughts about cognitive functions but at the same time i need to share this immediately and i dont wanna wait for however long it takes new blogs to be able to post in the tags so i’m putting it on my main blog fuck it.

but if this interests you and you want me to make a side blog, let me know. because i think we need more well-informed posts and analyses about mbti and cognitive functions instead of shitflinging stereotypes and making the system look like stupid pop-psych shit to everyone who doesnt know about it. here’s an example of what i get into edit: okay hii the blog is @functionaxes

here’s a post regarding the inferior Ni of Se dominants (ESxPs)

these things really helped me get into the head of Se doms

1. this part of this video

2. i elaborated on this in this thing i wrote (jump to the section called “Opposites”)

3. this response i got on pdb

we already know that Ni is formed out of the raw information gathered by Se, but if Se doms take in so much information, why isn’t their Ni’s intuition well developed?

it’s because Ni describes the process of taking direct, raw data from reality and finding underlying connections between them, similar narratives that appear to underly multiple pieces of data. when connections are found, that connection then becomes the defining trait of all that information, and the original individual circumstances of the data points are lost in favor of “fusing” them together into new assumptions (that then go on to become supporting details to more narrowed down assumptions, and finally the moment that “explains everything” leading up to that point).

i think Se doms have difficulty finding the same underlying narrative between too many things at once, and have an easier time finding connections between smaller amounts of information rather than the entire reservoir at once, which is what weaker version of Ni looks like. but that doesn’t necessarily make it bad—it has its own quirks in this position. this also means that their inferior Ni stores data closer to how it concretely was since the data it holds isnt nearly as assimilated as it is in Ni dominants.

this is different from Si because the data stored in an ESxP’s Ni has not been extrapolated by a process like Ne and had those associations from Ne preserved by Si—it is simply raw data without extrapolation. which is why Se dominants have a strikingly vivid and visceral recall abilities of things that happened despite Se being a continually outward and short-term function. it’s actually their unique manifestation of Ni in the inferior position that allows them to do that. (this is also why INxJs including myself have shit recall for specific detail but the concept/lesson remains. everything in the present relates to an overarching concept which still could be considered a “stored experience” of some sort, just not a detailed one. if someone comes up to me and i absorb all the sensory details that give me the impression this guy is bad news, i’m only going to remember my perception that he was bad news. let me tell you it makes keeping track of academic sources and recalling which info i learned from which paper hell)

but back to the smaller connections at a time i was talking about, it’s hard to explain just in words so i illustrated what this looks like

Se doms are so attentive to the minute qualities of the information in front of them that on the surface they appear to be too different to be seen as having a similar thread. and i don’t mean this to make it sound as though ESxPs are shallow—what i mean is when they’re looking at things, they see them for what they concretely and individually are because of their different physical properties (though with Ti auxiliary in the ESTP, they could be comprehended as being more similar to other objects semantically/ontologically), but compare it to Ni doms who are like “fuck it theyre basically the same thing due to [similar underlying perceptual narrative property]”

Se dominants also take in so much data that there’s not really enough opportunities to use Ni because there’s a constant barrage of new information, and it’s hard to cognitively disconnect from that.

#mbti #cognitive functions #estp #esfp #typology #se dom

[shihalyfie]

Comparing the original Best Partner character song series and the new one, and what that says about the 02 cast

So if you haven’t heard yet, a new series of 02 (it’s actually Kizuna) character songs dropped! Allegedly intended as a slightly delayed 20th anniversary project, the series is a callback to the original “Best Partner” character song album series that released during 02′s actual airing.

If you know anything about the original Best Partner series, it’s one that sets an insanely high bar, even for Digimon standards (and that’s saying something, given the deep associations this franchise has with music). The series of character songs before it, Adventure’s “Character Song + Mini Drama” series, has a…kind of questionable amount of relevance to each character; it’s not like they’re super amazingly out of character, but they don’t really tell you a lot about each character beyond some gloss details (this is probably best demonstrated in how Mimi’s song is blatantly just an AiM single disguised as a Mimi song). Best Partner, on the other hand, very intimately goes into each character’s head and their relationships with their respective partners, even putting in direct words what wasn’t stated explicitly in the series.

So does the new series live up to the high bar its predecessor sets? Answer: on top of some abnormal attention to detail on the covers, it is very obvious that the new series not only has a lot of the depth of the 02 characters in mind, but also is made in direct response to the original series itself. Moreover, putting the original Best Partner series and this one side by side reveals a lot about each of the 02 characters and what they got out of 02′s story, in a surprisingly neat summary.

Let’s go into how!

Since this is something that has a deep relationship with all of these characters in regards to the series, this particular meta would not have been possible without input from multiple people who know these characters better than I could ever hope to by myself. Thank you for all of your help.

A bit of historical context

The original Best Partner series consisted of a set of albums, one representing each pair of partners in 02. Notably, even though nowadays there’s a specific order of the Adventure/02 characters that’s used in modern media, not only does the original series not follow that ordering (as it hadn’t been set in stone at the time), it also leads with the original Adventure characters and not the 02 ones, which is pretty unusual for a series that’s ostensibly supposed to be for 02 (modern lineups will usually favor leading with whichever group the relevant product is branded with).

A lot of this probably makes more sense when you realize that the original Best Partner series was released during the first half of 02’s airing. The final album was released on August 23, 2000, four days before the fateful 02 episode 21 (yes, that means the third track on Ken and Wormmon’s album is actually a spoiler). So in other words, while the original Best Partner series accurately reflects the older Adventure group’s character development and what problems they were able to sufficiently overcome, the 02 group does not have anything about their character development from 02′s second half reflected in it at all.

That’s actually a really huge disparity, when you think about it, especially because a lot happened with the 02 group in that second half – that second half was where the emotional payoff and the results of everything that had been building up over that first half came together. So in comparison to the Adventure group, composed of people confidently talking about what they’ve decided for themselves from now on, you still have the 02 group drenched pretty deeply in insecurity. Watch 02 to the end and listen to those songs again, and you might even think “wait, this is supposed to represent these characters?” So, in essence, the new Best Partner series serves to address that gap, and what the 02 group gained and learned out of 02′s second half.

Best Partner (and its successor series for Tamers, Best Tamers) follows a uniform format: a solo song for the human partner, a solo song for the Digimon partner, and a duet between the two. (Given that, the original Best Partner series was really huge, at a whole 36 songs.) Recalling that, in the Adventure universe, a Digimon partner reflects the human’s inner self and psyche, it’s pretty extensive coverage: what the human has to say about themself, what place their Digimon partner is in relative to that, and what the nature of their relationship is due to that.

Let’s go into each pair of partners in detail!

Daisuke and V-mon

For those who love 02 and love Daisuke in particular, when you ask “what kind of character is Daisuke like?” or “what’s Daisuke’s best quality?”, you’re probably going to get answers like “forward-thinking” or “positive” or “good at uplifting others” – basically everything to do with how Daisuke is an encouraging presence who doesn’t give in easily and has a strong mentality of moving forward in the face of despair. Someone who appreciates and understands others’ best qualities, and loves them for everything they are. So when you look at his original Best Partner solo song, Goggle Boy…

But more than just saving the world I really don’t want to lose, you know

…Uh…

These goggles are my proof Given by a certain someone to me The precious thing he handed over It’s just like his Crest, you know Aren’t they cool?

…Well, that’s nowhere to be found.

This is the kind of song that might make you think “wait, this is supposed to be Daisuke’s representative song?!” (It’s possibly because of this that Daisuke’s song from The Bridge to Dreams, Tomorrow, generally tended to be far more favored among Daisuke fans, although it’s more relevant to 02 as a whole than it is to Daisuke in particular.) if you listen to Goggle Boy knowing about what Daisuke’s best qualities should be, this is almost a little frustrating, because this is the kind of thing he really shouldn’t be pigeonholed as – basically, begging for others’ approval and praise and focusing on idolizing others. Even his most insightful moments in this song come from his appreciation of something that came from someone else (Taichi), not from himself.

Well, the thing is, that was Daisuke’s character for most of the first half of 02. Of course, even in early episodes, there were many times where Daisuke’s potential for positivity and forward-thinkingness were starting to poke through, but most of the time he was rolling over trying to please others and chasing after his seniors. The real period of time he started to grow into his own about this was 02 episode 24 and its aftermath – when his time spent with his friends started to fill the void in his life and his need for validation, and the escalating situation, especially with Ken, led him to have a proper grasp of what was properly important and what needed to be done.

So when we get to his new solo, RUNNING MAN…

I’ll keep on running far ahead Let’s bring everyone along with me, today, too Really, always, thank you, Thank you so much Riding the wind, going past the sky Grasping your hands and flying I’m even starting to see beyond my dreams

Even in only one section, you can get an instant image of the Motomiya Daisuke we all know and love – someone who appreciates his friends’ role in his life, loves their company, and moves positively towards the future. Because, again, after the events of 02, and after being able to bond further with his friends and gaining his own strengths in leading everyone forward, he became able to more properly express his love for everything instead of constantly vying for others’ attention. Even the title reflects the change, from a “boy” who’s flashing the symbol of courage he got from someone else, to a “man” who’s positively running forward on his own merits.

(Interestingly, RUNNING MAN is composed by Ohta Michihiko, a legendary composer who’s made many of some of the most important songs in the franchise, and also composed many of the original Best Partner songs, including Goggle Boy. It’s interesting how RUNNING MAN is the one most like the original songs in atmosphere as a result – possibly representing how Daisuke is a simple-minded person who ostensibly doesn’t change drastically in disposition – yet has lyrical content that’s so starkly different.)

As a result, this is subtly reflected in the other two songs in each album as well – remember that V-mon is one of the partners who most “matches” his own partner in terms of disposition and mentality. So as Daisuke shifted his own priorities, V-mon did too; we go from Go Ahead! being about taking a stand and fighting, whereas Beyond the Future is about a similar forward-thinking mentality to Daisuke’s.

Likewise, the duets have different priorities as well; 2-TOP was composed of Daisuke and V-mon bickering for the most of it, and the most substantial point you could get about it was that despite their bickering, they made it work, whereas HEY-rasshai! has them almost entirely in sync (with one minor moment of deviance). It’s also interesting to see the topics covered in each; 2-TOP is about soccer, which ultimately is revealed to be a fairly incidental hobby for Daisuke, whereas HEY-rasshai! is about ramen making, which, while comical, also has a very strong tie to “Daisuke’s dream for the future, and his willingness to single-mindedly dedicate himself to something when it’s something he truly wants”. In other words, while Daisuke knew what he wanted since elementary school, it says a lot that he’s at a point where he and V-mon are now taking proactive steps to have that dream achieved, now that they’re able.

Ken and Wormmon

Like with his position in 02 itself, Ken’s is probably the easiest to see the contrast without trying too hard, but there’s still quite a lot to unpack!

When you think about it, in the modern era, it’s actually surprisingly hard to find stuff too relevant to Ken’s time as the Kaiser. The reason is, simply, that the series itself discourages this – Ken himself had an obvious aversion to dwelling too much on it, and the entire series itself has a strong theme of “moving on”. It’s not to say that the Kaiser doesn’t have a fanbase (I’m sorry if you’re reading this and find that I might be implying too hard that you don’t exist), but rather that there’s a franchise and fanart tendency to focus more on “Ken-chan” than “the Kaiser” these days, and old merch from the first half of the series will all too often get responses of “it’s really sad Ken-chan can’t be there…” Of course, 02 itself was also about accepting one’s mistakes, not pretending they never happened, so it’d be foolhardy to deny Ken’s dark history entirely, but it’s retroactively interesting to see such a prominent and persistent piece of merch like Ken and Wormmon’s original Best Partner album focus so largely on Ken’s time as the Kaiser when most of the franchise ended up trying to move on.

Starting with Ken’s solo songs, and his first one, ONLY ONE:

I’ve lived without showing my true feelings, wearing this mask

Well, this was easy to tell from the series itself, but the point driven home is that Ken didn’t want to expose his true self to others, putting on a front of “strength” and smashing his true feelings into the corner so that he could become more of the “perfect” person he thought he was supposed to be. There’s also another interesting line that one should pay attention to:

I polished the knife in my heart and put my belief in infinite power

Basically, putting up a defensive front to prevent anything from approaching his weaknesses.

Anyway, moving onto his new song, Never Ending:

If I want to be proud of tomorrow’s version of myself I wonder, what can I do? Never Give-up I’ll keep fighting, even doing someone else’s part No, I won’t be afraid anymore

First of all, the main theme of the song is about putting conscious thought into understanding how to stay true to himself – basically, understanding what it is he really wants to do and become, instead of putting on fronts and hiding it from others. Not only that, we see traces of what exactly he gained over the course of the second half of 02 – because so much of it involved constantly trying to blame himself for everything, this song is about what he came to learn in terms of proactively making it up and actively fighting forward. He’s working hard!

We also have this part:

The knife that’s pointed at someone, or at myself If it’s been let go of

Two things going on here: firstly, we have an explicit reference to the metaphorical “knife” Ken referred to putting up in ONLY ONE, talking about finally letting it go instead of bothering with this kind of front. He also points out that, in a sense, the knife was pointed at himself too, either in the sense of actually having hurt himself through this entire ideal, or in the sense that he constantly was trying to blame and punish himself for everything. None of that should be necessary anymore. Moreover, Never Ending contains a lot of references to “daily life” and the happiness that comes with the simplicity of just being alive – because that was indeed what Ken gained through his experiences, the ability to treasure living life in itself instead of aspiring to an impossible standard.

Another interesting thing about Never Ending is that it’s technically in a similar rock genre to ONLY ONE instead of being “soft”, like Ken’s personality is often thought to be. This was a surprise to a lot of people who commented on how surprisingly “cool” the song was, but this is actually completely in line with Ken arguably being one of the most openly assertive people in this group even after his reformation. Note that it’s very difficult to call this song purely angsty – it’s definitely positive and forward-thinking, and the chorus itself is partially in major key – but it has the vibe of someone who’s fully aware of everything that’s happened, is putting proper thought into it, and is pushing on despite everything. Remember, the intensity the Kaiser had originally came from somewhere; Ichijouji Ken is the same person, in the end.

In regards to Wormmon’s song, the contrast is also obvious: The Future You Dreamed of, the Future I Dreamed Of. is of course about Wormmon’s tormented feelings during the Kaiser’s abusive relationship with him, whereas can change it! is about its aftermath and how they made up (including copious references to the events of 02 episode 23). Even then, there’s a certain “forward-thinking” attitude that marks this song as being representative of being after 02’s events and not during – see the line “The mistake we made that day/is exactly the reason we’ll never let it happen again”, instead of the self-punishment and shame Stingmon expressed in 02 episode 26).

On top of that, the duet song Forever Adolescence also marks a subtle progression from the point they were at from True Strength – remembering that Best Partner 12 was released at a time when True Strength was actually a bit of a spoiler, while Ken and Wormmon obviously had made up by that point, the key line in it is still “everything truly begins from here”. So what, exactly, happened after that? According to Forever Adolescence, the decision made was to keep moving forward, and, moreover, to stay “the way they are”, especially with the nuance that it means it’s okay to not force oneself into the role of an adult and stay “young at heart”. This is really, really important in light of the events of Kizuna, the 02 group’s unusual role in it and its relevance to 02′s themes (more on this below), and how Spring 2003 referred to the pressure placed on Osamu as him being “forced to grow up too quickly” – in essence, Ken and Wormmon have firmly resolved to actively move away from that kind of pressure.

Miyako and Hawkmon

I’ve pointed out several times on this blog that the actual complex Miyako was going through in 02 was that she hated herself more than anyone else in the group would be willing to criticize her – and if you don’t believe me, it’s put in a pretty heavy-handed manner in her original song, Crash and Bingo!:

Fussing about it won’t get anything done But my selfishness and problems and panic keep coming out

…and even more viciously in her own and Hawkmon’s duet, Fly High:

I can’t do anything right, besides playing around with computers

or

Everyone would be still be fine if I weren’t there

If you thought it was subtle in the main series, it certainly isn’t here: Miyako considered herself good for absolutely nothing and unable to be accepted by others for being too useless – in these songs, despite Hawkmon’s attempts to uplift her, she criticizes her own messy tendencies and considers herself a burden. Best Partner is a positive series, so it still has the attitude of “we’ll try anyway”, but it’s clear that Miyako really didn’t have the highest opinion of herself at all. Hence, Fly High also shows off the worst of Hawkmon having to deal with the fallout – with Miyako flailing around in panic and considering herself good for nothing, he’s forced to carry her around.

But come Miyako’s new solo, From Spain with Love!, we see a huge contrast all over the place:

I, who have evolved into an adult make everyone do a double-take at me when I walk by!

Exhibit A: actual confidence in herself and ability to consider herself worth something;

If I can always, always be honest with myself Even if I don’t put together some program, even if I keep screwing up Ah, you understand me

Exhibit B: understanding that she’s worth something to others besides her utility abilities, and knowing that she has friends who’ll support her despite her flaws (which is very true);

When things are feeling hard, the first thing you should do is call me, okay? I’ll take the wings of love and purity, spread them, and get there as fast as I can Ah, I’ll open up any gate I need to

Exhibit C: indulging in her capacity for helping and supporting others;

Al mal tiempo, buena cara We laugh exactly when things are hard

Exhibit D: understanding the strength to get through hard times, instead of emotionally crumbling under the pressure.

Yep, that’s exactly what her character arc in 02 was about; 02 episode 31 was a huge turning point for her because, in the depths of her berating herself for her messiness and expecting Hikari to be secretly judging her the whole time, Hikari revealed that she was outright jealous of Miyako being able to speak her mind, and Miyako shortly after ended up showing her true capacity for reaching others who needed her help and supporting them, a role she ended up growing into for the rest of the series. Note that, other than the casual remark of confidence at the beginning, Miyako hasn’t necessarily become arrogant or anything – it’s just that, by focusing her energies into how much she loves everyone and turning her “nosiness” and “sticking herself into others’ business” tendencies into positive energy to help everyone, she gained more confidence in her ability to be loved and accepted by others.

This is reflected as well in her new duet with Hawkmon, where, instead of Hawkmon dragging her around everywhere, their differences and mismatched personalities are outright celebrated, and while Miyako still has awareness of her messy tendencies, she’s no longer letting it emotionally rip her apart and has confidence that Hawkmon can be by her side to help her through it. Perhaps reflecting that, Hawkmon himself goes from the over-the-top, dramatic, high-strung Knight of Love to the more calm and straightforward Gentle Tornado, perhaps because his own partner isn’t constantly bouncing off the walls recklessly nearly as much anymore.

Incidentally, it’s not like all of this is without nuance, either; even if Miyako’s become more of a confident person, she’s not all put-together. Considering that the entire song has her gushing about how she’d be willing to drop anything to go see her friends (which was pushed forward in Kizuna itself, what with her willingly taking the same request she’d refused to do earlier just because her friends were involved, and even inventing D-3 gate exploitation just to go see them), when you get to the end, and her gushing about her fun in Spain suddenly derails into reminiscing about the events of 02 episode 42, the implication is clear: for as much as she wants to be wholeheartedly enjoying this fun trip abroad for what it is, she can’t help but let her thoughts float back to memories and friends she cares about, and her bonus conversation with Hawkmon drives it in further that, ultimately, she dearly misses them too much.

Iori and Armadimon

Iori also went through some drastic changes in character over the course of 02, so when you look at My Conclusion, it’s basically Iori at his “worst” point of black-and-white morality:

Everyone, I will be speaking my conclusion Evil will not be tolerated Even evil in itself will be defeated by justice That will always be a certainty in the end

I mean, let’s even consider the fact that the song is called “My Conclusion” in the first place. Iori’s slamming this all down like this is the end-all of everything, and you can’t change his mind! He does briefly admit that there are certain things reason itself won’t change, but it’s more like he’s on the verge of having an out, because in the end, really…

Everyone, I will be speaking my conclusion Our enemies are beyond reason Again and again, to the very end They will certainly use cowardly means to come and attack us

Rationality. No feelings involved. Evil is evil, and justice is justice. No takebacks. Life exists by rules, and nothing else.

Message to the Future is possibly one of the most interesting songs in the original Best Partner collection, because it does actually provide hints about where Iori should be going in the future, and also has a lot of things that retroactively hit a lot harder from the meta perspective. The song fully fleshes out Iori’s feelings and concerns about how to grow up into a proper adult (which was hinted to be his real motivation as to why he was so strict with himself in 02), and that, most of all, what he wants is for his “feelings” to never change no matter what happens. Iori expresses concerns about how he might change as an adult to Armadimon, and Armadimon assures him that he’ll still be “Iori”, no matter what.

So, come the new character song collection, Iori’s new solo song is aptly titled “Things That Won’t Change” – because, in the end, despite everything that changed, his feelings did not. He says it himself: the important parts that he really wanted, the desire to do the right thing and to protect others, never changed a bit at all since “back then”. What did change, however, was his way of going about it.

Rather than what someone else has decided I’ve chosen my own future now

and again:

Rather than imitating someone else This is to shout out my own future

The emphasis on this being Iori’s own choice is important because Iori has finally decided not to live by strict rules imposed on him nor by imitating others (remember, part of the reason he kept doing what he did back in 02 was because he had such a strong belief “my father would have done this”). Others had been encouraging him to “make his own decisions” from the get-go – even Hida Chikara himself had told him that he was the one who needed to decide what to do in any moment in 02 episode 5 – and after dealing with a violation of his own morals in having to kill a Digimon in 02 episode 44, one episode later, in discussing with Takeru, Iori has to come to terms with the decision to continue fighting because “this is what I have decided myself”, because it’s not about whether he has an obligation to keep fighting for the sake of justice, but because he, himself, wants to protect others, and will do what it takes to do so. There’s no more of these strict rules of “because it must be this way” or the black-and-white morality that caused him to be so initially hostile towards Ken and Oikawa, but an understanding that these things need to be decided from the heart.

Moreover, unlike My Conclusion, Things That Won’t Change isn’t written like Iori’s turning in some school essay, but rather, more than half the song is in casual-form Japanese (which was associated with Iori when he became more emotional and wasn’t keeping himself in check anymore), and is more of a thoughtful reflection of his own feelings rather than trying to pass itself off as following rules because he must.

Thus, while the duet Choo Choo Tryin’ isn’t as heavy-handed as Message to the Future, Iori and Armadimon acknowledge that they need to be forward-thinking and keep going (generally tied to the message of 02 in itself), and Iori outright discusses the potential pitfalls of becoming too stiff. Furthermore, the song has copious rap portions, which seems rather unfitting for Iori on its face – until you realize that not only was Iori sometimes willing to indulge in more fun even back during 02 (just because he was strict with himself didn’t mean he was a complete killjoy), Iori’s also just a lot more flexible-minded in general, and has a penchant for wanting to do things right when he’s given a task. (His delivery of the rap in the song isn’t monotonous nor overly emotional, but has the nuance of someone who’s trying to recite all of it with caution.)

The part that’s particularly striking from the meta perspective is that Iori and Armadimon are no longer voiced by the same voice actress; Message to the Future was essentially Urawa Megumi talking to herself. So now, Iori has a new voice actor, and in many ways has become very different from Armadimon – but because Armadimon sounds a little like Iori, you could say he’s helping preserve the childish side of Iori that’s more important than ever to hold onto, especially since Iori himself worried about changing too much. And so, Iori’s still willing to indulge in a sort of “fun” song like this, and in the end, despite everything, you understand that they haven’t drifted apart at all in the slightest.

That’s not to say that Armadimon himself hasn’t changed either – in fact, he’s changed himself in response to how much Iori has. His original solo song had a lot of easygoingness to it, and some constant reminders for Iori to please, please chill – but his new one has a much stronger sense of resolve and forward-thinking attitude, reflecting that, while Iori himself technically had to learn to embrace more emotional uncertainty through the events of 02, it was also able to give him much stronger resolve that this was something he was doing because he was emotionally prepared for it, not out of some sense of moral obligation.

Takeru and Patamon

I’ve already covered Takeru’s original Best Partner song Focus and how it’s probably not about shipping as much as the fanbase tends to pin it as, but in any case, the operative part is here:

Before I knew it, I was watching over you Still standing at a skewed angle from behind The focus of your heart I wonder, is it on me, or… No, I can’t ask

Takeru couldn’t bring himself to ask sensitive questions or be straightforward about his emotions – which is basically what was Takeru’s lingering problem over Adventure and 02, that he kept swerving around or even lying about sensitive topics and holding everything inside, until one of his triggers was hit and everything exploded. Therefore, even when an important question about someone else comes up, he “can’t ask”. Moreover, for all Takeru is known as a lighthearted and kind person, Focus is a really turbulent song with a really harsh arrangement, and it’s a pretty accurate view of all the complicated and sometimes even negative emotions that Takeru was (badly) coping with over the course of 02.

This was the whole issue with Takeru and Iori’s Jogress arc in 02 episodes 34-36 – that Iori felt he couldn’t understand nor communicate well with Takeru, and had to eventually take matters into his own hands in order to properly understand his feelings. Takeru’s further interactions with Iori were significantly more straightforward for the rest of the series, and the experience also led to Takeru being able to more openly communicate with Ken as well, since the two had been on awkward speaking terms for most of the third quarter of the series.

So when we get to Step High Step…

You lament, you don’t have confidence in yourself I’m saying this to you as I’ve been watching you You’re amazing at all times

The song features Takeru being fairly straightforward about his feelings and opinions instead of just dodging it and going for an “everything’s okay” keeping-the-peace attitude, and not only that, he’s commenting on someone else, something that he probably would have refrained from in 02 for being intrusive. Of course, Takeru was always a nice person, but he wasn’t exactly straightforward about being nice back then – and yet here we are.

Since Focus is probably about his relationship with Patamon and how he kind of wasn’t exactly straightforward about his worries with him either (see 02 episode 34), it’s also interesting to compare Takeru and Patamon’s duet songs as well. Steppin’ out does portray a progression from Adventure in that they’ve accepted they can “do things over” again after things crash down (presumably referring to Angemon’s death and rebirth), but you’ll notice there isn’t much in the way of actual communciation between the two – something that’s not only present in Le Lien, but also portrays them as outright in-sync to the point of “telepathy”. We’re talking about a pair where the fanbase has historically had doubts about how similar they were back in 02 because of how “mismatched” they seemed!

Which, incidentally, they weren’t actually – you can see Patamon pretending he’s not about to cry in his original Best Partner song Don’t Stop Pata-Pata, much like how Takeru would cover up his own emotions, and gritting his teeth and resolving to fight harder. Meanwhile, while Ring of Smiles ostensibly continues to have Patamon be “sweet and cute”, it contains a lot of important nuances of “appreciating daily life with friends”, even if Patamon himself can’t quite find words for it – in other words, it’s actually some rather insightful and thoughtful sentiments from Patamon about the importance of being with and connecting with others, mirroring what Takeru himself learned in connecting with the others around him, especially Iori.

Hikari and Tailmon

Remember, Hikari has two lines (one in Adventure and one in 02) that basically summarize the main “issue” she was dealing with in both series: she was selfless to unhealthy levels, and would prioritize others’ welfare over herself to the point of self-destruction. So in her original solo Best Partner song, Gentle Rain, she puts it pretty explicitly:

I want to always be wearing nothing but smiles But I can’t be cheerful all of the time

or:

So that I can become a greater version of myself Please give me strength

All things considered, Gentle Rain is full of Hikari’s own insecurities, and her belief that she doesn’t have enough strength to do anything for herself. She makes references to being pulled to the Dark Ocean, mainly because – as she says – she doesn’t want to go there, but she doesn’t have enough strength or willpower to resist it. In fact, Best Partner 11 is full of a lot of angst; Gentle Rain is Hikari angsting about her own weakness and inability to do much for herself, Getting up is Tailmon angsting about her painful past and everything to do with it, and Shining Star is basically a plea for both of them to be able to do anything despite all the pain. It’s all pretty severely heavy content, despite the initial sparkly-looking sentiment of it all.

Considering the circumstances, it’s not really all that surprising. Hikari spent her time in Adventure and the first half of 02 very “emotionally isolated” from the others, to the point very few people could understand what she was thinking, and while she’d never hesitate to put herself out for other people, anything to do with herself, like getting pulled to the Dark Ocean, would result in resignation “it’s over” and “I can’t do anything about it”. Tailmon came from the background of being effectively raised by the abusive Vamdemon, so 02 was really only part of the earliest portion of her moving on with her life and being able to spend happier moments with Hikari. But, of course, the real turning point was 02 episode 31, when Miyako finally managed to break through to her and convince her to not accept the inevitability of things happening to herself, to accept help with the support of others, and to not take things happening to her as a sign she’s doomed.

So when we reach Hikari’s new solo song, Tomorrow’s Blue…

I want to chase after my dreams and hopes, it’s fine even if they’re incomplete I won’t lose, I won’t stop, I’ll do this to stay true to myself

The most striking thing about the song is that it features Hikari assertively talking about her own desires and feelings, when back in 02 she basically tried to kick them out of the picture for the sake of everyone else (and, really, even in Tailmon’s new solo song, Tender tale, she outright calls Hikari out for still prioritizing other people over herself). It’s not demeaning herself, it’s not resigning herself to anything, it may have a slight admission that she’s not super-confident about everything yet, but it’s still her looking forward and choosing to pursue what he wants. It’s a big deal!

And instead of the constant angst that permeated Best Partner 11, the new album is about Hikari and Tailmon talking about their feelings towards each other – something that neither of them really verbalized that well over either Adventure and 02 – and contextualizing their importance to each other over the course of their “story”. Hikari talks about Tailmon’s role of assertiveness in helping her break out of her shell, and Tailmon generally provides an extremely accurate description of Hikari in a nutshell – that she’s a bit mysterious, that she’s emotionally sensitive, that she’s cheerful and lifts others’ spirits. What’s more, Tailmon makes a reference to the same kind of “pain” and “losing things” she referred to in Getting up, but instead of angsting about it, she positively accepts it as something that may happen in the process of protecting others. (Oh, and it and the new duet A Tale of the Light also make reference to Hikari’s photography hobby in 02, contextualizing it as something Hikari did to chronicle their precious memories.)

So in summary, Hikari and Tailmon have both been able to accept 02′s philosophy of becoming forward-thinking, positive, and accepting the help of others in order to move forward. Not bad!

Conclusion and digression

Despite how these songs are almost polar opposite in portraying their before-and-after development of the 02 kids, nobody’s really argued that any of them are out of character! In the end, it’s a pretty succinct depiction of what these kids were dealing with and what they grew into by the end of the series. Seriously, I never, ever want to hear that these kids were underdeveloped nor that they didn’t go through any significant development over the course of 02 ever again. That’s just not true at all, and this simply happens to be one of the many illustrations of how.

Moreover, the songs themselves and the “conversations” that came with the new albums solidify firmly that the 02 group has extremely tight relations with their partners even at this time – with Daisuke actively consulting V-mon for help, Miyako, Takeru, and Hikari actively dragging their partners everywhere with them, Ken having Wormmon be his effective alarm clock, and Iori being so close with Armadimon that his Nagoya dialect is rubbing off on him. Daisuke, Miyako and Hikari have a huge point made that, regardless of the rather easygoing way they’re going at it, they’re very aware of what they want to do from this point out and are following it with gusto (and while it’s not stated in words, Iori carrying a huge textbook, presumably a law one, with note markers all over it drives the point home that this applies to him, too). It’s a really, really huge contrast to what was going on with the directionless Taichi, Yamato, and Sora effectively neglecting their own partners back in Kizuna – and further reinforces the reason the 02 group was in such an unusually favorable position during the movie.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #shihameta

[funkymbtifiction]

Good day! I'm pretty sure I'm an IXFJ type but still teasing out if I use Si/Ne or Ni/Se. Any advice you have is welcome! :)

I am very much in my own head constantly, observing situations and mulling over mental imagery that pops up randomly at times. Like, I will see an object in the world, such as a rose ornament on a shelf, which will bring to mind Beauty and the Beast "Enchanted Rose", then the mirror that is used in the story to see her family. Which will then then lead on to imagery of Phantom of the Opera (the link being a beautiful woman being drawn to a "beast" like character and the use of a mirror being used as a reveal). All imagery that I find positive and inspiring, giving me a sense of romanticism and that there's more to life than just the concrete.

I have felt that I had to be a Ni user because I dive deep into associative imagery and daydream A LOT. But then I read Jung's description of Si, notably this part "introverted Sensation is sense-perception that focuses more on the psychological reaction to objects, than on their objective qualities. This subjective part of Sensation is most easily demonstrated in art. Even a still-life scene will be painted differently from artist to artist, in terms of its treatment of colour, form, and mood. Si pours its personal, subjective attitude into its perception of the concrete world, so it’s as if it ends up seeing something quite unique and different from what’s actually there" which would perhaps explain why I could be an ISFJ AND live in a world of inter related imagery and impressions.

I would say I'm very much moved by what goes on in my mind's eye and become attached to places, objects, stories, narratives that become part of my everyday life. I did wonder if this was Fi instead although I believe I'm more likely a Fe user because my focus is more on what is appropriate/rude in social contexts, how to best get on with others and yes, unfortunately at times I minimise myself to not be at odds. I do have my own preferences and loves/hates but will not display these so much, especially if I know the person/people I'm with have contrary sentiments. Something I'm learning to get better at, self expression.

I like to have the outer world kept calm and pleasant as possible so that I can dive in deep within myself; I suppose that's why I'm so routine and probably a bit predictabe (read: boring). I have patterns I stick to each day such as when I have my lunch, downtimes activities after work (reading, bathing, watching tv, ASMR videos before sleep). Even when I'm on holiday I'll follow set behaviours like making sure I have a cup of tea before bed while reviewing pictures of the day.

I haven't truly considered ISFJ properly before because of my daydreams and vivid mental imagery. They're vital parts of me. That said, if Si is more to do with creating inner symbols then I can see a case for me having that over Ni. Jun says this also "The Si type’s perception of the concrete world is adapted to the “eternal truths” - archetypal or even mythological patterns of life.

Si, in a sense, sees the background of the physical world. The important thing isn’t the object, but its reflection in the Si type’s psyche. As a result, objects don’t only appear in their present instance, as Se sees them, but also with a vague sense of their past and future, “somewhat as a million-year-old-consciousness might see them”. Si covers the concrete world with a shroud of meaning, subjective experience and archetypal truths."

I also didn't believe I could be a Sensor because I'm not noticing much of the present moment details, at least not consciously, although I am detail orientated in my memory about people, events, objects etc. I'm quite clumsy too physically. I wouldn't say I'm good at Sensing and feel "out of the world" often. But then again I'm perhaps better than I think. I do see myself as a 9w1 in enneagram and a lot of characters I relate to I've noticed are ISFJ 9w1s who are more dreamy romantic archetypes (Beth March, Jane Bennet, Christine Daae). I know you shouldn’t really type by which characters you relate to though, but figured I’d mention too. If anything I probably over explain than under explain! I often doubt my instincts and insights, whereas I understand NJs especially INJs have faith in their insights. I am hesitant about the past too though, wondering if I’m remembering situations that have happened to me correctlyc or rather interpreted them in the right ways. That’s more to do with past trauma though (I was assaulted and bullied by classmates, which gaslighting was a part of).

Sorry I’ve gone on quite long. I understand if this is too long winded and makes no sense.

All of this is absolutely, beautifully, perfectly Si impressionism. :)

Si metaphorical images are easily shared and understood by people everywhere due to the influence of Ne “creating out of” what the Si user deems important. Si users form inner archetypes and impressions, built out of sensory experiences and what individually appeals to and ‘draws’ their interest -- so ISFJs, especially as 9s, can be very romantic, dreamy, interested in archetypes (mythology or fairy tales or knights and maidens fair, etc.) or in mulling over what they most love.

Ni is colder, more impressionistic, more far-fetched, higher concept, and less easy for other people to understand -- consider the movies of Darren Aronofsky or Christopher Nolan or even the television series Twin Peaks for reference.

#question #mbti #isfj

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Hopelessness of Wanting [Part 3]

<- Part 2 | Part 4 ->

Frederick Chilton x Reader

Chilton struggles with his discomfort being touched and desire to cuddle, and grapples with his conscience.

Warnings: Mentions of suicide attempt & noncon (from previous chapters). Angsty fluff. 

2,300 words

“You’re coming home with me,” Dr. Chilton said with the authoritative tone of your boss, the hospital administrator. Then you looked at him with questions in your eyes, and his confidence quickly broke. “That is… I would like you to come home with me. It would be professionally irresponsible to leave you alone. You just tried to—”

“I didn’t,” you interjected. “I didn’t try to do anything. I just…” Thought about it. Planned it. Began to execute the plan. But you didn’t do anything.

Chilton watched you, his analytical gaze muddied with guilt. He held your arm as if you might drift away if he didn’t. You glanced down the wide marble hallway of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, but no one was there to see him grasping you so familiarly. You should have known it was safe—Dr. Chilton wouldn’t have risked public affection if there was a chance of being discovered. The main hall was darkened. This wasn’t an emergency hospital, so there were only one or two medical personnel on call overnight, and guards whose rounds Chilton knew by heart.

“If you prefer, I could have you kept under observation. However, it would be more pleasant if I did it myself. Simply to make sure you are alright.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like I’ve never thought about killing myself before. I’ve never gone through with it,” you shrugged dismissively.

“That is not a reason not to be worried,” his voice pitched up in alarm. “In fact, I am more concerned that this is a pattern.”

Fuck. You forgot you were talking to a psychiatrist.

How could you make him understand you didn’t need help? You would never have the guts to actually go through with it, however much you wanted to. Were you even depressed? Probably not. You were just a dumb, dramatic, half-assed piece of shit who couldn’t even finish—STOP!

Fuck.

“OK,” you conceded, tongue numb and heavy. “If you think it’s best… I’ll go with you.”

***

It wasn’t until you were sobbing in the passenger seat of his classic red cabriolet that Chilton began to have doubts about his own intentions.

“Perhaps it would be better if I brought you to a friend’s house,” he offered softly. Your head shot up, puffy eyes filled with—of all things—betrayal. “Or a hospital.”

“You’re going to check me into a psych ward after fucking me?”

He stiffened. In the few months you’d worked at BSHCI, you always seemed cheerful and naïve—the cutting remark took him by surprise.

Right after you made it, your hands flew to your mouth. “Sorry…” you murmured, equally taken aback. “I didn’t mean that. I know you would never take advantage of me.”

The apology cut deeper than the insult, though you wouldn’t understand why. He fell silent and stricken as he turned the ignition.

Dr. Chilton’s home was an obscenely modern monstrosity with all white walls, white kitchen, hard angles, and open spaces that gave it an air of luxury, but moreover, vacancy. It was a five-star hotel: grandiose, without a single hint of a person living in it.

He offered you the guest-room, like a gentleman—no! He would take the guest-room, and you could—

The press of your lips cut off his nervous babbling. You smiled (a weak, tired smile so different from the sunlight that radiated from your face in public) and said you didn’t want to be alone. So he led you to his bedroom, another pompously large space that dwarfed the king-size bed at its center. He often had trouble sleeping, but never considered that his bedroom’s fishbowl quality could have anything to do with it.

His blood pressure was dangerously high as he stood next to his bed. How was he supposed to sleep next to you? Undress in front of you? He was near panic at his foolish decision to bring you home when there was a sudden weight around his middle grabbing him from behind. He gasped and jerked away before realizing, quite obviously, it was you. But his heart was still racing in his ears, and he winced as you reached for him again.

“Don’t… touch me, please.”

Your eyes widened, mortified. “S-sorry sir,” you stammered, and it didn’t escape his notice that your entire body went rigid, or that you reverted to calling him “sir” like when he was reprimanding you at work. You must have been expecting him to blow up at you. He’d conditioned this response. He’d successfully made you afraid of him, and his reward was a sharp pang in his chest.

His hands found your shoulders, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. “It is all right,” he said. His best effort to be comforting came out dreadfully stiff and monotone. “And you… you may call me Frederick, if you like.”

He watched your throat tighten as you swallowed. With relief, he felt your shoulders relax, and then you looked up—your eyes fell on his like dawn breaking over Chesapeake Bay. Your mouth shaped into the first syllable of his name, but paused as your eyes locked on his left cheek.

“Oh,” you exclaimed. “Is it because…” You reached up to caress the round scar where a bullet had entered, but withdrew your hand quickly before making contact (and had the decency to blanch at your faux pas).

“Yes,” he gritted his teeth. “Because of that.” And because of the ones left on his abdomen by Gideon’s scalpel. And the scars not visible on the surface, left by years of neglect.

You shifted uncomfortably, seemingly at a loss if physical contact was off-limits. “I’m sorry.”

“It is all right. I am fine.”

Your lips twitched upward at that, and a gentle, sarcastic puff of air escaped your nose. Chilton straightened his posture—he’d been called out, and he knew it. If anyone else had dared laugh, he likely would have gone into a defensive pique and shut down, but instead, he returned your lopsided smirk.

Look at the two of you, pretending you’re fine. Just fine.

“That is to say, I am not incapable of touch”—he squeezed your shoulders as if to prove a point—“Our… rendezvous earlier was… enjoyable. I simply do not like being caught by surprise,” he explained haltingly. His cheeks heated. The truth was, he was bluffing: he had little experience with affectionate touch, so he couldn’t say what he was comfortable with. But surprises he was certain he did not appreciate.

“Then are you sure about sharing a bed?” you asked with tentative shyness. “I like cuddling. But if it doesn’t feel good to you, then…”

“It will be more than all right,” so long as you do not thrash too much in your sleep, he added mentally. He frowned. “I would like to enjoy cuddling.”

But he was never conditioned to enjoy physical contact by affectionate parents or by lovers, and life experience had done little but teach him to anticipate pain. Dr. Chilton understood how abnormal brains functioned. He knew he might never gain that oxytocin boost normal people get from the act of twining their bodies around each other. Still, it meant a great deal that you wanted to twine your body around his—that his simple presence pressed claustrophobically to your skin might invoke a positive emotional response.

Exposure therapy was the only treatment. If he was to become accustomed to being touched, he must practice.

“What should I do to support you?”

“Just go slowly,” he yielded. “Give me warning.”

***

He didn’t know why he showed you. Perhaps there was no other choice—sleeping with contact lenses always made his eyes red and irritated by morning. But perhaps he hoped that you would run away and get it over with. A masochistic side of him wanted to see your face contort in horror, disgust. For you to realize this hideous thing had fucked you, and curse him for hiding the truth.

Anticipation of your impending rejection felt like a boulder lifting off his chest. He was being crushed under his own happiness, unaccustomed to bearing your thoughtful gazes and kind words. The world would be right again when you ran.

“Come here a moment,” he called you into the master bathroom, voice calm but a quarter octave too high with strain. “You deserve to see this.”

Every muscle in his frail, hacked-to-pieces-and-put-back-together body tensed as you cautiously poked your head through the door and saw him standing in front of the mirror. You remained placid, but your eyes registered shock as they fell on his ghostly blue dead eye, then shifted down to his sunken cheek—the bullet hole more pronounced without makeup covering it, a gap of teeth missing where the bullet tore through his jaw.

Instead of disgust, you approached him, padding across the bathroom tile in your bare feet. You asked if it was alright, and waited for his faltering nod before caressing his tattered face under your warm palm. You called him handsome. Rugged. You called him a thousand beautiful things in a tender, soothing voice that held such magic in it he almost believed the words were true.

***

Dr. Chilton held you warm to his chest through the night, barely sleeping himself. Sleeping was impossible under those conditions. The scene of his dark bedroom would give, from the outside, the impression of peaceful stillness, but uneasy emotions roiled inside him, rocking him like a boat on a stormy sea.

Fucking was different.

When his cock was buried deep inside of you, claiming, possessing you, a primal urge took him over, blinding all his senses with desire, blotting out his over-active thoughts. But the feeling of you resting silent and trusting in his bed sickened his stomach.

He stroked your hair, watching your perfect lips move ever so slightly with each exhale that passed between them. He had been so wrong about you. Underneath your bright, friendly, forced smile was a garden as thorny as his own, and he loved you all the more for it. More than you could ever know. More than he imagined possible when he thought of you as a sunflower soaring toward heaven, high above his reach—an unobtainable treasure he admired with envious eyes.

For once in his miserable life, Dr. Chilton found someone who understood his pain.

A sunflower was just another plant trying to escape the cold, dark soil.

He flinched at being touched, especially on his abdomen or face. Holding you while you were deep in a sound sleep from which you barely stirred was tolerable. Not as pleasant as he thought it should have been, but not unpleasant. The sensation of contact was a bit squirmy, like worms writhing under his rib cage, but the warmth of your body, the sight of your peaceful face nestled against his chest made him feel protective. Strong. Desirable. You felt safe with him. A new kind of contentment washed over him, and so he bore the squiggling worms and hoped they would go away with time.

You felt safe with him.

His stomach turned again.

You felt safe, because you didn’t know that Dr. Chilton heard everything inside the BSHCI walls, including the staff break room. You didn’t know he was listening when you told Nurse Clerval that your boyfriend’s night shifts were putting pressure on your relationship. That Chilton began scheduling your shifts to conflict with his, hoping it would be the last straw. And it was. A few weeks later, you were single, and he celebrated his victory alone with a Scotch in his office, a smirk on his lips as he watched you cry to Clerval on the security feed.

You wouldn’t have let him hold you if you knew how deliberate his efforts had been to break you—to dull your shine enough that you might consider him an option, even though he was too cowardly to ever ask you for a date.

In the end, everything worked out better than he could have planned. The ends justified the means, did they not?

Forget the fact that, had a janitor not been cleaning his office, you would have been found dead on the floor of the supply closet tomorrow. Gone forever. How could he have known he pushed you that far?

Dr. Chilton had given up on himself long ago, but he had never considered ending his life. Instead, he used his misery to justify all manner of unscrupulous conduct. He hated himself so deeply that he might as well prey on a disassociating patient reliving memories of sexual abuse. After weeks in a coma, losing an eye, a kidney, half of his hearing, did he not deserve to take what he wanted? The possibility of getting caught was worth a moment’s pleasure when he hardly had anything to lose.

Was he preying on you, he wondered, as you slept in his arms?

No. This was different than Julianne. You were consenting, aware of yourself and your actions. A little depressed perhaps, but nothing that would have you deemed mentally unfit to stand trial. If you ever committed a crime, you would not be sentenced to his care.

You were wonderful, kind, and melancholy, and you wanted him. Your skin was soft, and your lips softer. He dipped his head to kiss them with the lightest ghost of pressure so you would not wake up. Your fingers curled in his silk pajamas, and you murmured a few cooing syllables, nuzzling closer before you stilled again. He would take care of you from now on. Do right by you. Everything he had done was worth it, because you were here with him.

Still, his stomach turned. The worms wriggled in his intestines, and no matter how heavy his eyelids, he could not sleep.

• ● • ━━━━━─ ••●•• ─━━━━━ • ● •

Tags:  @beccabarba​ / @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ / @thatesqcrush​ / @dianilaws​ / @permanentlydizzy​ / @mrsrafaelbarba​ / @madamsnape921​ / @astrangegirlsmind​ / @neely1177​ / @onerestein​ / @dreamlover31​ / @stormtrooperofficerbrowneyes​ / @barbasimp​ / @storiesofsvu​ / @welcometothemxdhouse​​ / @feedthemadness-sweetie​ / @law-nerd105​ / @amelia-song-pond​ / @michael-rooker​ / @xecq / @madpanda75​ / @alwaysachorusgirl​ / @bananas-pajamas​ / @leanor-min​

#Frederick Chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #gender-neutral reader #dark fic #my writing

[fromthehellmouth]

One for Sorrow, Two for Mirth

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Maledictus! Femme! Gryffindor! oc. Regrettably, there is so much angst... Part One!

Maledictus prompt requested by @hyacinthsandbooks I had so much fun creating this character, thanks for the prompt! Feedback is greatly appreciated! 

Drawing by me and inspired by scenes from the story. I hope you enjoy!

Overview: 

Tom Riddle befriends an unlikely victim of a powerful blood curse

I had increasingly found myself in a perpetual state of insomnia and dread. There was almost nothing I could occupy my mind with that would take it from my lingering anxiety and melancholia surrounding my condition. My nights were long and restless, and I had to become endlessly creative in order to find ways that would keep me out of trouble as well as keeping me occupied during the long dark nights in the Gryffindor common room alone past curfew. Often, it would result in me exploring the castle grounds in my other form, or writing down my thoughts to pass the time. Perhaps it was the concept of literature that I would gravitate to because of its mysterious qualities of immortality. It was chilling but also somewhat comforting to know that my works would remain with me far after I had irreversibly changed. It was not something I liked to dwell on, but it was something that I knew I could not escape from--it was always there, nagging, prodding, looming over my decisions, my psyche--it was a horribly cruel curse. 

Over a century ago my family had gotten involved with a group of vengeful wizards who were known for their adaptations of some of the darkest corners of the dark arts. They fled the country but the curse went with them. Once a curse of that strength had penetrated its way into your bloodline, it would permanently dwell there, feeding off you, like a tumor, like a degenerative disease, like a leech, essentially, it declared its power with its name; it was a blood curse. It was only a matter of years before there would be nothing more I could do, and I would have to accept my change and my fate with it. At least there was no need to study for N.E.W.Ts. My parents had begged me for years not to accept such a pessimistic attitude, to care about my studies, my dreams, and my aspirations. Over the past few months, through our owl correspondence, I felt they had lost the motivation to keep pestering me about a life that had been taken from me the moment my grandmother told me what I was: a maledictus. 

Fortunately, at this point in my development, my transformations were still voluntary. When I was very young, I remember having frequent visits to the Ministry of Magic with my parents. They would have me seen by famous dark wizard catchers, legendary curse-breakers, healers, and talented seers. From the beginning we knew there was no known cure for this type of blood curse, but I think the little security the aurors offered was necessary for my parents to hold onto. They needed expert opinions, that unfortunately would continue to tell them there was nothing to be done. Of course, my childhood self had virtually no knowledge of the severity of my condition, and thought it was simply enchanting to see mommy and daddy’s workplace.

Since my first year at Hogwarts, I had told no one about my condition except headmaster Dippet, professor Stump—my head of house, and professor Merrythought who was an expert in the dark arts because after all, she was the DADA teacher. I liked professor Merrythought quite a bit. She was an older woman with grey-blonde hair pinned back in a loose braided bun which she always had hairs escaping from. She was one of the few people who did not immediately resort to pity and fear when I told her what my bloodline had been cursed with. She was calm and interested, she told me how special I was and got me involved into studying more about blood disorders involving dark magic. Unfortunately, there had been rumors of her leaving Hogwarts and retiring—yet another thing I would be attempting to repress. My mind had become an expert at most coping mechanisms, my methods of choice being denial, repression, and sublimation--primarily writing. 

In a sense, knowing my future was carved into stone was somewhat freeing. It allowed me to live fully and completely in the moment, and not have to plan or study for my future. In another sense, the looming dread was very real, and seemed to be working its way into the grooves of my personality--settling in the fine lines of my psyche. My dull despair had become a part of me. I never doubted my purposelessness until I met Tom Riddle. 

***

It was nearly 1:45am when I noticed his figure contrasted against the shamrock-green hills. In a defeated attempt to become more comfortable with my animal form, I had begun to fly over the castle grounds more recently during the night when I felt my insomnia had become too much for me to ignore by lounging in the Gryffindor common room long after the other students had taken leave. I was never in the mind of being rebellious or secretive, and I was almost positive that if I had told professor Merrythought, she would have kept the sensitivity of my travels safe. Spotting a dark-clothed figure, I circled closer, still keeping my distance. Edging in tiny fractions closer to the tops of the forbidden forest’s trees, I made my way closer to the figure. I was presently slightly concerned for encountering the kind of person who would be coming from the forbidden forest at nearly 2 o’clock in the morning, but my growing curiosity controlled me, and I eyed the figure from above, still slowly cruising lower and lower. When I had reached the grass, the figure had entered the covered corridor leading to the clock tower, and I decided to present myself to the figure who couldn’t have been more than 6 feet away from me. It was always fun to play out a little scare. I let out a shrill, stuttering call. The figure froze, spinning swiftly with a hand to his mouth. I could see his shoulders quivering as he stared at me. 

“...it’s just a magpie, Tom...” he whispered to himself as if he needed convincing. As he turned to face me, I immediately recognized him as a popular Slytherin boy from... history of magic...? divination...?

“Unless...” 

Defense against the dark arts. That was it. 

“Are you... an animagus?” 

I froze. How could he have known? There was no way he could have known... Silently and immediately I flew back outside the covered corridor back into the open air, and faster than I had ever flew before, I found my way back to the Gryffindor tower, perching on the windowsill I had left open, dropping inside, and in the darkness transforming back into a student and swiftly slipping under the thick covers, I fell asleep suprisingly effortlessly. 

***

In the morning I awoke earlier than usual. It was as if my mind knew I had been gifted with a long sleep and didn’t want me to get comfortable. I had become accustomed to falling asleep late and waking up early—both situations leaving me awake while the rest of the castle lay unconscious. I put on my uniform and brushed out my hair. I found that the more I transformed, the silkier my hair had become, it was as if the strands were becoming more feather-like, and tended to reflect the light more. I had gotten nearly a dozen requests for the enchantment I had used, always leaving me with an awkward and less than satisfactory “it must just be oily.” I descended the stairs to the common room where I read the clock.

5:30.

Defeatedly, I gathered all my schoolbooks and began to review the material for my first class of the day. Herbology.

***

I decided to take a walk to the kitchens to pick up a cup of tea before breakfast, which begun at 9am each morning. I still had a few hours before breakfast, so after I made myself a cup I circled back to the clock tower courtyard near where I had departed from the boy I had followed last night. I sat on the ledge of the fountain and began to re-read the textbook required for this upcoming unit in herbology on uses and cautions of aquatic plants. We would be taking a guided field trip to the Black Lake for research, which I was quite excited for. While my eyes danced across the finely-scripted writing in the yellowing book, my mind wandered to last night. I found myself retracing my steps, and visualizing the boy’s face above me, shocked and intrigued. What did he know?

***

After herbology class, which had been held at the Black Lake, I followed the mass of students back to the main castle grounds. My days at school were mostly spent alone either studying or hopelessly wandering in my mind to places where I no longer had to abandon my future. I recognized very few people as friends, and I stood out from my fun-loving, reckless, and colorful housemates. It was as if my natural personality I remembered glimpses of from childhood had been veiled with a layer of plaque, tarnished and dusty. I didn't mind the aloneness. I often felt most secure when I didn’t need to reveal my secret to anyone, and was able to choose my schedule the way I saw fit. Back in the castle, I followed my normal crowd of Gryffindors who I shared my first two classes with. These were the students who I sat with at meals, went to study parties with, sat in the common room after hours with, but never ended up knowing very well. It was a polite relationship. They asked me what I thought about our next class’ lesson. 

“Can’t say I’m excited.” I rolled my eyes, my hands rested deep in the pockets of my skirt. 

“Don’t want people to know what you’re scared of?” 

“Must be it.” 

Defense against the dark arts with professor Merrythought was next, and the notorious lesson on boggarts had been expected by most students for months. Undoubtedly there was excitement for exposure to mysterious and dark creatures as well as teasing material for students with childish fears. I couldn’t help think of the boy I had encountered by the clock tower who I would inevitably see again this upcoming class. I hoped my nervous habits would not give me away as suspicious. For some reason, I felt the need to be wary of him.

***

The classroom had been completely rearranged for the upcoming lesson, with the chairs and desks pushed to either side of the long room, and professor Merrythought’s figure standing in the back near a large ornate chest. As the students trickled in, the rumblings of the crowd grew louder as giggles and anticipation filled the cold air. My hands wrapped around my arms as I attempted to retain my warmth. 

Am I the only one who notices that draft?

Merrythought calmed us down and begun her lecture on the history of the discovery and initial magical responses to the boggart. It takes the image of what you most fear... Its true form has never been seen... It withers at the sound of laughter... The students got called up one at a time as she showed us the counter-curse Riddikulus! which would obstruct the boggart’s form and intercept its visual manipulation. Riddikulus! the steep chasm of a split cliff lets out a nasty fart and the room explodes in laughter. Riddikulus! a swarm of wasps turn into winged lemons and drop to the floor, rolling around and colliding with each other, and the class cackles. 

Godric, would she just close that bloody window?!

“Lucia!” the room’s roaring died down and I felt my face turn red hot. My stomach twisted and contorted within me and my walk was feeble as I approached the large chest. 

“And when the boggart is released, remember the incantation!” I swallowed hard and in a second, the lid of the chest flew open and a swirling silvery mass flew toward me and shifted into a bird, its head, beak, and breast were black mimicking a raven, but its belly was white and the under-feathers of the wings and long elegant tail that caught the light shimmered hints of deep phthalo green and royal Prussian blue. The bird began to lunge toward me and in a panic I shouted the incantation much louder than I expected. 

“Riddikulus!!” The bird’s feathers erupt in every direction, leaving the creature completely bald and resembling an uncooked chicken, struggling to stay suspended in the air. The class giggled and Merrythought propelled the creature back into the chest and called forward the next student as I slipped back into the crowd. 

“Tom!” The boy approached the chest in a single fluid moment. He wore his school robes to every class unlike the majority of students who only wore the required minimum of a blouse, sweater and trousers or skirt. He stood out not only because of his height but because his ebony-black hair glistened under the  lantern-lit room. His robes seemed to be an extension of his broad square shoulders, and as he readied his wand I felt the room muffle in an unnatural stillness. The boggart shifted into the body of a young boy, with the same black hair as Tom, the same pale skin and full, pink lips, but the boy’s eyes were closed, his face was hollowed and gaunt, and he was lying on the floor, seemingly lifeless. The class seemed to collectively hold its breath as the dead body of a young boy nearly identical to the older Tom lay before us. Tom lifted his wand and smoothly uttered, 

“Riddikulus.” The black robes along with the body of the boy melted into a thick black bubbling slime that seemed to shake and bounce slightly. This time there was no laughter. There was no reaction. Professor Merrythought quickly swooped up the transformed boggart with her wand and tossed it with a graceful flick back into the large chest. 

“Well done class! Quite the show. That’s the end of the lesson for today, we’ll continue where we left off tomorrow!” The students murmured with the abrupt dismissal and I couldn’t help myself from straying my gaze to look at Tom. To my instant shock his piercing aquamarine eyes shot right back at me and I almost let out an audible gasp at the sudden intensity of his stare. I felt my heart-rate race and I nearly ran from the classroom. 

*** 

Later that night my mind was racing, I had to know what he knew, why he had stared at me back in class, did he know I was the bird who had followed him last night? I sat by the crackling fireplace of the Gryffindor common room. The clock read “12:10,” and there was only one girl left in my company. She sat at the other corner of the room and I could hear the shuffling of books which meant I would soon be alone and she would be going to sleep. I caught myself staring into the flames, the fire dancing and glittering into smoke and stray glowing embers. 

“Goodnight!” the girl called out as she ascended the stairs to the dorms. 

“Goodnight.” I replied, my voice was tired but my mind was wide awake. My eyes lazily flew over the spread of books before me. 

There was no way I would be able to study with Tom on my mind. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his bright eyes flashed in that cold room. It was as if the only thing my head could focus on were those piercing eyes and the image of that magpie lunging right toward me.

If you’d like to read Part Two, click here

Tags: @tmr-simp-pride

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle fic #Harry Potter #Harry Potter fic #harry potter imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine

[drxwsyni]

Petrified (pt.3)

Yandere Erasermic x f!Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

a/n: is this what they call a slow burn?? i promise the intense yandere stuff goes down soon...-ish. i’d like to have a new part out every week or so, give or take a few days. we’ll see how it goes, but for now enjoy the new chapter!!!

ALSO WE REACHED 200 FOLLOWERS LAST NIGHT THANKS Y’ALL, YOU’RE AMAZING

(5.8k words)

Warnings: reader experiences mild anxiety

If there was ever a time in your life when you felt like you could finally take some well needed rest, it was now.

It wasn’t like you had a choice though, your nurse making it very clear that you weren’t cleared for discharge yet. Therefore another long bout of unconsciousness was the only option you had whilst in the dreary hospital room, and waking from it felt much more pleasant than you anticipated.

Your sleep schedule appeared to be unaffected by the recent events, something you were grateful for. It had you up on this fine Sunday morning at precisely 8:12 am, according to the time on your phone. Unfortunately, you neglected to bring a charger with you to work on Friday. So when your abandoned belongings were retrieved from that dreaded alleyway, you were still left with relatively nothing to keep you occupied. The phone was running on a steadily declining 14% battery life, leaving its use to be minimized to an expensive clock.

With nothing to pass the time in that regard, you simply observed the world coming to life outside your window. It left you the chance to go over the past 48 hours in peace, and you specifically regarded the strange development from last night.

It wasn’t something you hadn’t already been over multiple times in your head, but you still couldn’t manage to wrap your mind around the motivation that was fuelling Shouta and Hizashi to propose such a request. Concern over your health did explain some of it, but the extent of the actions caused by this concern was not at all equal to the reasoning.

Regardless, you’d already accepted to fulfill their strange request, so there wasn’t much that overthinking the situation would do to benefit you at this point.

_____

Breakfast came at around 8:30 am, effectively pulling you out of your wandering thoughts. It was simple enough: eggs, sausage, toast, a side of bland oatmeal and a tall glass of water.

The nurse left you to your own devices after that, telling you that for now it was a matter of continuing the same treatment before any more judgments could be made.

This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t growing increasingly bored by the minute due to the lack of distractions. So when the sound of a certain voice hero’s conversation could be heard on the other side of your door not long after breakfast, it served as a great relief to the mind numbing atmosphere.

Not a moment later and you heard the familiar rapping on the wooden frame, before the blond pushed it open and entered.

“How’s my sunshine doin’ this morning? Ya feelin’ any better?” Hizashi was dressed in casual clothing with his hair down. In addition, he appeared to be holding some sort of shopping bag in his right hand.

You watched as he made his way towards the right side of your bed, responding to his worries. “Well, the rest definitely hasn’t gone unnoticed. My head still hurts but they’re giving me some pretty powerful meds for that thankfully.”

You figured he would sit down in the armchair, but instead he opted for settling on the edge of your bed again. “Ya sure you got enough shut eye? I can come back if ya need to snooze a lil’ longer.”

His open compassion for your health was comforting, albeit a little insistent, but it made for a relaxing atmosphere for now.

“I don’t think I could sleep anymore no matter how hard I tried, thanks for the concern though.” You gave a warm smile, sensing that he was almost stressed over your wellbeing, unnecessarily much in your opinion.

The blond brought the bag up to rest on your lap, and vaguely you could make out the contents for a brief second.

“Well, Shou’ and I figured you didn’t have all that much to live off of since being admitted, so I went and grabbed ya some essentials on the way here.” He gestured to the bag, to which you hesitantly reached for.

He continued, “I wasn’t quite sure what my favorite listener needed, so I just bought a lil’ bit of everything.”

You peered into the opening, seeing quite the assortment of toiletries. Picking up the packet of cleansing facial wipes, something you desperately needed, you continued to peruse through the items. Smaller things like high quality travel sized tissue packets and floral scented lotions were settled aimlessly at the bottom.

One thing that did catch your eye was a small stuffed black cat, wearing a white frilly dress. You took the plushie out of the bag for further inspection, also singling it out for just being cute.

“Shou’ picked that out. Sent him some photos from the gift shop downstairs since he’s not a mornin’ person. Thought it’d keep you company until ya get outta here.” You looked up at Hizashi, seeing him smiling warmly at the thought of something so wholesome, and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“It’s adorable, thanks…” For a moment you sat in the feeling of being cared for so well, something that you didn’t have much time to receive given your lifestyle. However, that sentiment was quickly overshadowed by the circumstances you were in, particularly with this man.

Once again, your body became riddled with grief over the fact that they’d spent not only their time, but now their money on you. Not that you didn’t understand that Hizashi was genuinely concerned for you―nobody could miss that. It’s just there was no reason for it as far as you were concerned.

The two had done more than enough as it is, and the overkill only made you feel worse. “...I just―I can’t help but feel bad that you spent so much on me. I’ll pay you back completely, it’s the least I could do for how much you and Shouta have invested in me so far.”

That’s what you said, and you meant it completely. But you knew that the voice hero wouldn’t stand for it, so you could only hold onto a string of hope that he’d at least let you compensate for half of the valuables.

He almost let out an amused laugh at your worry for the state of his finances. “Look, I know ya mean well, baby. But this stuff costed no more than pocket change. After all, can’t have you bein’ neglected in this place after going through all that trouble to get ya here.”

“Can I at least pay back half, just for some peace of mind.” He was more stubborn than you initially thought, just another trait of his you were growing used to.

“Not gonna happen, sunshine! But there is one thing ya can do…”

The blond pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket, unlocking it swiftly. He handed it to you, the screen appearing to show a page for new contact information. “Go on and type in those digits of yours. We’re gonna need a way to contact you if some new info pops up about the case from Friday night.”

You glanced at his awaiting expression before silently agreeing, typing in your phone number.

“Also, we gotta work out when that dinner night is happening. Can’t have you runnin’ off on us before then.”

He was right, the only way they were letting you make up for their generosity was oddly by letting them provide you more of the manner. It was your only option, so you settled with the new belongings and finished typing in your contact information.

As if to make sure you didn’t give him the wrong number, Hizashi sent you a quick text of a sun emoticon. You took the opportunity to save his information to your phone.

Just as you did, the screen turned black and wouldn’t come back to life no matter how many times you pressed the power button.

“Outta juice?”

Your eyes darted to Hizashi, who moved to rummage through the bag. He pulled out an object you somehow managed to completely miss: a phone charger.

He began unwrapping the cord from its casing, getting off the bed to find an outlet.

“The police ended up havin’ to go through your bag to file everything as evidence. Shou’ was there when it happened, told me to grab a charger cause you were missing one before I left this morning.”

Just another expensive item you wouldn’t be able to compensate for. It’s like he wants you to feel bad for being so helpless.

“Thanks…I’d be pretty screwed without you I guess.” You didn’t want to keep going on about the regrettable feeling that was all too persisting, seeming as it didn’t matter much anymore.

He handed you the end of the now plugged in charger, letting you hook your phone up to it. “No worries, actually I―”

The same nurse as last night had interrupted his train of thought, making her presence known before entering.

“Good morning Yamada sir, checking up on my patient I see?” She didn’t let him respond,  “Well, I hate to break it to you but I’m going to have to steal her for a while.”

He regarded the nurse with a smile. “‘Course, I’ll talk to you later, songbird.”

The blond gestured some finger guns in your direction as he spoke, walking out of your room.

Regardless of the circumstances, you thought, at least I have someone coming to see me. That’s what I get for throwing myself into work and not making friends I guess.

You let the nurse close the door all the way, silently awaiting the slew of information about to be sent your way.

_____

It would seem at this point the only stimulation outside of examinations was in the form of boring phone games, and your newly acquired, and insistent, hero companions.

One of which was currently posted in the armchair, waiting for you to finish eating dinner before you told him about the exciting day you had. Shouta, reserved as ever, kept on his phone until then.

You finished up as soon as possible, the silence eating away at your psyche due to its growing awkwardness.

“How was your day?” Simple, the only thing you could think of asking, great for breaking the silence.

The erasure hero looked up from the screen immediately. “Good, actually. Still haven’t heard anything from the station.”

Remembering that fateful night wasn’t something you particularly wanted to do, but for now it had to be dealt with. “I doubt much will come of it, not exactly like what was going down wasn’t obvious, so no need for an investigation, right?.”

“Probably...any changes with yourself?”

You knew well enough that like his partner, Shouta seemed genuinely interested in your health. The difference was that his way of conveying this was much more...intimidating.

The look he gave you demanded a response, even if the question was harmless enough.

“Ah―not really I guess. I’m here until tomorrow morning for sure, but that’s about all they’ve said.” You wouldn’t know if he was pleased with the response if you didn’t catch the slight nod he gave.

“Well, it’s not a bad thing. You could certainly use the rest.”

Now that’s something you could agree to, but you’d still rather do so in the comfort of your own bedroom.

“Listen, as much as I want to keep you company, my students are expecting graded essays back tomorrow morning. I’m afraid I can’t stay any longer.”

While you did appreciate his presence as a change of routine for a short while, it was only to an extent. You’d be lying if you said the atmosphere didn’t feel heavy while he was around, even if just a little in times like these.

“That’s no problem, I’d hate to keep you from your work.”

He slowly stood up from the armchair, “Hizashi will probably visit tomorrow morning. He’s got the day off so he’ll likely stick around as much as possible. Just tell him to leave if he’s annoying you.”

You watched as his eyes drifted to the stuffed cat resting on the bedside table next to the bouquet, the sight influencing a tired smile.

“You should try and get to sleep early―oh, one more thing.”

Like his partner had done earlier today, he reached for his phone, handing the unlocked device to you. Having done so already, something he was also aware of, you silently typed in your information.

“Don’t be afraid to send one of us a message if you need anything.”

You returned the phone to him, “Right, thanks for stopping by Shouta.”

As he exited the room, you were left with feelings of confliction over the whole ordeal. It was strange―having someone being concerned about your wellbeing was nice, but something, you couldn’t quite place what, was getting in the way of your gratitude.

The two men were clearly busy people. Hero work, on top of being teachers, would more than suffice as something to occupy most of their time. When it comes to dealing with victims, you’d assume that for the sake of efficiency a hero would just drop you off at the nearest hospital and then be on their way.

And yet, for reasons still incomprehensible, the presence of the strange duo was something you couldn’t shake off. Perhaps it wasn’t intentional, but the reality left a peculiar underlying feeling of...suspicion?

It was too soon to say, and frankly it’d be rude to judge them after they’d been so kind to you. However you’d always been someone who falls on the more overstrung side, and neglecting the situation by simply ignoring it was not something you could do.

_____

It was just as his partner had foretold―the next morning you had once again been graced with the presence of Hizashi.

You noted how he was awfully chipper for being up at 8:20 am on a Monday, but like the couple other odd traits of his, you chose to disregard it.

Especially since this person also came bearing quite the appetizing breakfast.

“The nurse said ya didn’t have to eat the hospital food if someone brought you a meal instead. Thought you’d appreciate somethin’ homemade so I whipped it up before leaving.” This time he was seated in the armchair, likely because there wasn’t enough room on the bed with the table that was positioned over it so you could eat.

The meal consisted of―somehow still warm―scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, fruit, and a side of blueberry pancakes. All in all, it was delicious, and you didn’t quite think it was something he could just ‘whip up,’ but you’d let that slide. You thanked him profusely for it before regarding just how little you’d been informed of things since coming to the hospital.

“I didn’t even know that was allowed to be honest. They don’t tell me much aside from whether or not my condition has changed.” You tried to talk in between bites, not wanting to let the warmth dissipate by waiting to have a full conversation.

“Funny you say that cause she also told me you’d be cleared to leave by the end of the day. Looks like the hit you took wasn’t too serious.”

Well, you would’ve appreciated being the first to receive this news. Isn’t there like a doctor-patient confidentiality thing to keep others from knowing stuff like that?

Regardless, it was still good news. The hospital room was starting to drive you a bit crazy.

“That’s good to hear, thanks for letting me know.” You quietly continued your meal while Hizashi went on about similar things―cases that were like yours, his opinions of the hospital staff.

If there was anything he was good at it was filling the silence, and you supposed this was where his relationship with Shouta came in handy. Not that his partner didn’t seem to mind talking, it was just he wasn’t the most energetic when he did so, whether he knew that or not.

In general, the two of you quickly realized that there wasn’t much to discuss, given how you’d been holed up in the tiny room for the last few days―it didn’t really allow for the most exciting news.

He asked you about a few work details of your own occupation―how long you’d worked there, if you liked your coworkers―menial stuff mostly. By then you had long finished breakfast, and it would seem that the blond had no intention of leaving, much like his partner warned you of.

So, you listened patiently while he went on about this and that. Sometimes trailing off into hero stories, other times bringing up his work as a teacher.

In general, you had no problem listening to him go on. You’d speak up here and there, but not for long as he’d quickly resume with whatever topic he’d fixated on for the moment.

One would think it’d be annoying, and perhaps this was just a result of some form of exposure therapy that made it bearable, but it was enjoyable hearing him ramble.

Yet, good things only last for so long.

It’s not that you eventually found the endless discussion boring, rather the developing behaviour was due to you still recovering―even just in the slightest―from recent events. You didn’t even notice it, but gradually your eyes were becoming heavy, and the sound of Hizashi’s voice was becoming more and more distant.

Embarrassingly, he was the first to pick up on it.

He was mid sentence when he caught you nodding off. Rather than being offended, the blond actually found it endearing.

Instead of alerting you just yet that he’d taken notice of your behaviour, Hizashi silently stood up out of the chair, walking over to the windows of your room.

Your half-lidded eyes just barely picked up on the movement, vaguely seeing him pull the blinds closed before coming back to your senses.

“Oh god, I didn’t mean to―you weren’t boring me I promise. I just-”

“Relax, songbird. It’s my fault, ya must still be a lil’ done in, no worries.”

Naturally, you felt terrible. He was acting like he didn’t care, anyone would be offended at this point.

It was excruciatingly awkward, and you desperately tried to collect your thoughts. “No, no it really was interesting, you can keep going if―”

“Stop it, sunshine.” He started towards your bed, which you instinctively shrunk into. You always defaulted this way, panicking immediately in the face of little to no danger. But Hizashi wasn’t dangerous, you told yourself. He continued, “I should’ve known you weren’t better yet. Still not sure how but you really managed to wear yourself out, didn’t ya?”

He pushed you back down into bed by your shoulders while he spoke, continuing to pull up the blankets you discarded earlier.

“I’m gonna head out so you can get some more shut eye, yeah?”

“Um...o-okay. Yeah, I guess…” You inwardly cringed at how small your voice sounded, but to be fair it wasn’t like you could exactly help it.

It was confusing, how he acted so indifferent to the unspoken insult that you gave him by nearly falling asleep. Was he acting?

Hizashi moved away, heading towards the door, leaving you somewhat comfortably tucked into the hospital bed.

“Get some rest, ‘kay sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah, thanks.”

You heard the door click shut as he left, the room falling into silence amidst the now dim lighting.

Okay...what the fuck.

Devoid of any distractions in your proximity, the hard thumping in your chest was more than clear. At times like these you didn’t even realize any growing anxiety―not until the ordeal was over and you were left with the aftereffects.

The attention to it was only drawn more when you processed the increased rate of beeping coming from your heart monitor.

The last thing you wanted to do was bother the poor nurse taking care of you. Steeling yourself, you took deep breaths, focusing your attention on calming down. It worked soon enough, leaving no need for medical intervention.

You noted that getting like this always drained you of energy―mentally and physically. Heeding Hizashi’s orders, it was easiest now to try and sleep off the anxiety.

You can think about whatever just happened later, maybe when your not still hospitalized.

_____

You were stirred awake by a gentle hand on your shoulder, lightly shaking your resting form. Eyes fluttering open, you observed the dedicated nurse you’ve seen time and time again leaning slightly over you.

“Miss (l/n), I have an update on your condition.”

That was more than enough to give you motivation to pull yourself from the jaws of sleep. You sat up slowly, although it was your best attempt at doing so quickly.

The nurse continued, “Well, it’s good news. You’ve been cleared for discharge. Your condition has improved considerably, so you can continue the rest of your recovery at home safely.”

You needed to hear no more, immediately looking around to find your bag that had been delivered to you from Friday night. Still, you figured that this deserved a response.

“That’s really great to hear, thank you for taking care of me...also, where are the clothes that I came here in?”

“Oh yes, they’re in your bag.” You watched as she reached underneath your bed―no wonder you couldn’t find the damn thing.

The nurse settled the bag next to you before continuing. “Here you go, miss. I’ve prescribed some pain medication for your head injury. Directions for consumption are on the label...and I believe that’s it.”

You rifled through the bag, retrieving your clothing from the bottom.

“Oh, one last thing actually. Now, this is only a recommendation, but given your health it would be beneficial if you were to remain home for the rest of the week. You can go to work if you’d wish, but it may slow your remaining recovery process.”

“I’ll have to think about that one, but thank you for letting me know.”

She turned off the heart monitor before removing the clip on your finger. The IV had been removed yesterday, so there was no need for attention in that department.

“Perfect, you can get dressed and gather your belongings. Please speak to the receptionist at the end of the hall―right before the elevator―so you can pick up the prescription before you leave.”

“Sounds good.” You offered a warm smile to her, and she politely excused herself from the room.

You got changed, clothing appearing to have been washed at some point while you were asleep. Somehow you managed to pile all the things Hizashi brought you the morning before into your backpack, and you threw the shopping bag into the garbage.

It was nice to finally stretch your legs for longer than a few minutes to use the washroom, although your muscles did feel somewhat weaker now.

Slipping on your jacket and bag, you exited the room, closing the door behind you. The receptionist’s desk had been exactly where the nurse said it would be, and you handed over your information to the man behind the counter. He left for a moment before returning with a paper, your prescription printed on it with an illegible doctor’s signature. You thanked the man before heading to the elevator and stepping in.

Nothing was more enticing at this point than returning to the comfort of your own home. The thought of your bed waiting for you was enough to have you drooling, being so done with the unfamiliar setting of the hospital.

The elevator chimed, signalling it had reached its destination of the ground floor. The doors slid open and you stepped out, heading straight for the front entrance.

At least you were, until you collided into some poor unsuspecting human standing in your path.

How many times are you going to embarrass yourself before the day is up?

The person had caught you by the shoulders, stabling the both of you. You were quietly trying to apologize while, painfully so, you lifted your head to assess the damage.

You weren’t sure to be thankful or not, but you were met with a familiar gaze.

“You really shouldn't keep your head down like that all the time. Are you okay?”

Shouta looked down at you with a stern yet concerned look. He didn’t exactly back away, rather he continued his hold on your shoulders as if you were going to fall over any second. Hizashi also stood close by his side, and therefore close to you.

The sudden proximity had your head spinning, blood quickly rushing to your face.

“Ah―yeah. I’m fine.” Your response was pitifully sputtered out, and gently you moved back, out of his grasp.

“You headin’ out? Shou’ and I were just comin’ to check up on ya.”

The blond regarded his partner, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll drive you home, have you eaten yet?” The erasure hero didn’t seem to be asking permission over the matter, but you still forced yourself to give them your take on it.

“You don’t have to do that, I was just about to call a cab. And I have stuff at home for dinner, so I honestly can’t impose on you two anymore.”

“Aw, but we're already here sunshine. It’s no problem, c’mon.” The blond flashed a warm smile before moving to place a hand just beneath the nape of your neck, guiding you to the front entrance alongside his partner.

You were beginning to grow frustrated with the way the two acted, disregarding your wishes so casually. Sure, they weren’t doing anything inherently wrong―just helping a poor civilian get home―but that wasn’t what irked you.

They were too insistent, and it was making you uncomfortable. Clearly they either didn’t notice, or simply didn’t care.

Heroes or not, you couldn’t just let them do whatever they want.

But...would they be offended if you got mad? They’re just trying to help, so what’s the big deal? It’s not like you would have to deal with it much longer, surely you could put up with a bit more of their pushiness.

...Just endure it a little more, you’ve already done enough damage anyways.

It was growing dark out, the sun having just set over the horizon. The crisp air hit you hard as the automatic doors slid open, being equally refreshing and shocking to your system.

An involuntary shiver wracked your body, and you felt Hizashi’s hand slip to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer to him.

It made your stomach churn ever so slightly, but you pushed the feeling down.

Shouta walked in front of you two, presumably leading you to their car in the parking lot. Approaching it, you weren’t surprised to see the expensive looking exterior, and were even less surprised to find an equally luxurious interior as the erasure hero opened the backseat door for you.

You offered a quiet ‘thanks’, removing your backpack and slipping in. The door shut with a heavy thud, and you waited for the two men to enter the vehicle while putting on your seatbelt. It smelled of pine inside, likely due to an air freshener somewhere that you couldn’t see.

They stepped inside, immediately turning on the heat. Shouta was given the responsibility of driving tonight.

“We can grab you something to eat on the way home, I know a couple good joints around your area.” Hizashi seemed quite invested on the topic of good food, but you had to turn him down at least once today.

“Oh, no thank you. I’ve actually got a frozen dinner that I made last week that I was gonna heat up.” You felt the car start to move, grateful to be getting home faster than you would’ve by cab.

For the first time in a while, the blond actually acknowledged and accepted your opinion. “Alright then. Hey, did the nurse lady have anything new to say ‘bout the whole passing out thing?”

“Surprisingly not, guess it wasn’t as bad as it looked.”

Yeah, because they didn’t know why you were so tired, or how getting the crap scared out of you was the final driving force that night.

“That’s good to hear. I take it you’ll be staying home for the rest of the week to rest?”

Once again, you noted the tone in Shouta’s voice that was a little off-putting. He was asking a question, one that you had the freedom to answer however you see fit. But the lowness, sounding like a warning rather than a simple inquiry about your future actions was all too present.

It made you nervous.

“Well...I’m definitely going to take Tuesday and Wednesday off. But I’m already feeling good so I won’t bother to cancel for the rest of the week after that.”

You could only anticipate the disagreement in silence. And disagree they did.

“I’m not too sure that’s a good idea, sunshine. You went through a lot, its best ya hold off for a while.” You could hear the passionate concern in Hizashi’s voice, but it did little to deter you.

You briefly glanced outside, thankful that your apartment wasn’t too far from the hospital. “Maybe, but the end of the week is always really busy, and I usually handle evening shifts anyways. It wouldn't really be fair on my coworkers to bail for that long.”

Without skipping a beat, Shouta replied. “It’s not fair on yourself to put unnecessary strain on your body.”

Well, he’s not wrong, but that’s not the point.

“I can handle it just fine, besides it’s still a few da―”

“��Zashi told me you fell asleep while he was there today. That doesn’t sound like handling it to me.”

Confrontation had never been your strong suit, even less so when it was directed at you. His words made you want to disappear into thin air, or have the backseat swallow you whole―anything would do at this point. You felt the shame from earlier today resurfacing, despite the internal fight you put up to contain it.

You were a little over halfway home.

“I was just a bit tired. Nothing a nap c-couldn’t solve.”

This time the blonde spoke up. “We’re just thinking ‘bout what’s best for you right now. And with the way things have been...maybe working so soon ain’t the greatest idea.”

The atmosphere was weighing down on you, thick with tension likely only you could feel. “The nurse said that it was okay to work if I wanted, so that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Is that all she said?” Your eyes flickered up to the rearview mirror, Shouta’s hard gaze meeting yours for a moment before you shied away.

God, this man is relentless.

You could lie, it might make this easier. But something told you that they would know if you did. They were pro heroes after all―didn’t they train to detect stuff like that?

“She said working might slow the recovery process, but I think two more days is more than enough time to get better.”

The two men exchanged looks mixed with annoyance and doubt, which you would’ve seen if you hadn’t had your head down, incessantly picking at your nails to distract from the bubbling anxiety you felt.

“Songbird, if the nurse said to stay home then you should listen to her. Going back to work ain’t gonna do ya any good.”

What could you say to prevent this from getting worse?

“She recommended staying home, I don’t have to listen to her.”

“Even though you should?” There was that tone again.

There was a silence in the car that felt like it lasted for an eternity. Clearly both of them were thinking the same thing, Shouta was just more insistent over it, much more insistent.

“What I should do is take responsibility as an employee. I’ll be okay by the time I have to go back.” Somehow you managed a response, despite feeling yourself physically shrinking back into the seat with every passing second.

Judging the surroundings, you were about one minute away from your apartment. One minute away from freedom.

You heard the blond sigh, “We know you wanna work, just promise you’ll think about staying home this week, give us some peace of mind?”

If that’s what will get them to stop hounding you over the matter, then whatever.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.”

The car pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex. You would’ve jumped out at full speed and ran into the building to escape the tension at this point. But that would be rude, and you didn’t want to look like a lunatic. And even if you didn’t care about that, the car doors were locked.

“We better not have to bring your unconscious body to the hospital again, especially if it happens because you thought going back to work was a good idea. If you think we’re worried about you now...well, this would be nothing compared to what would happen if you pass out again. Understand?” Shouta glared at you in the rearview mirror as he spoke, creating more than a lasting impression of his warnings.

You swallowed dryly, “Of course, thanks for the ride.”

Another moment of silence, then the click of the car doors unlocking sounded.

You opened the door, grabbing your bag while stepping out, trying not to trip over yourself in the rushed panic you were in.

Rounding the vehicle, you started towards the entrance to the complex.

“We’ll catch ya later, sweetheart!” Hizashi’s voice boomed after you, having the car window rolled down.

Out of courtesy, you turned back around, giving a small wave and a smile before stepping through the doors.

In a haze, you shuffled back to your apartment, pulling the keys out of your jacket pocket. You locked the door as soon as you stepped inside, chucking your bag on the floor in the entryway.

You didn’t even bother to heat up dinner, knowing the nauseating feeling in your stomach wouldn’t allow for sustenance at this time. Instead you showered, taking the time to massage your scalp in an attempt to relax.

Sliding into your pyjamas, you found that eating still wasn’t an option, but drinking likely was.

Not alcohol, but herbal tea―it always seemed to do the trick.

The exhaustion set in quickly after you’d gotten only halfway through the cup, so you retreated to the comfort of your bed. You knew the feeling was a mixture of coming down from a stress induced high, the tea, and your still recovering system.

It served as plenty of foundation to knock you out the second your head hit the pillow. This time, you welcomed the inevitable unconsciousness with open arms.

End of Part 3

_____

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