#So like a lot of that is her projecting guilt and assuming consciousness from them
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Op was feeling some kinda way.
Nightmares
She was falling again deep into the nothingness, it was all dark around her save for the ambient glow from her own body lighting the small space around her. She stared up as she descended, arms limply hanging in the air, her tail swaying as she let herself fall deeper. It wasn't so bad really, she was used to this part of it all the weightlessness and yet the awareness of being pulled down sometimes she couldn't tell if she was floating or falling and it was surprisingly easing. She closed her eyes letting herself exist and drift falling floating flying whatever it was, the silence was deafening as it tends to be all she could hear was herself her heartbeat her breathing her thoughts, her horrid lonely thoughts and occasionally she tricked herself into thinking of water hearing bubbles and feeling them float up past her bouncing against her as they past.
She stopped, and she felt the area shift around her and yet she knew nothing changed. It would all still be blackness; she simply felt upright now, arms curling to cross her chest legs tucking in close. She knew this feeling, she knew this dream, in a way she felt home and at the same time so lost, her tail wrapping around herself as she floated in space hoping to stay in that moment forever.
Voices swirled around her, giggling, chatting squeals of joy and play, 'please no, please not this dream,' she could only think as the sounds grew louder. She opened her eyes against her will, already feeling the tears falling off of her face and floating upwards away like bubbles. There they all were. Past an invisible barrier that she knew was there like a thick sheet of glass they all played. The others who'd been made the others who were part of the same development mewtwo project as her. They swirled and flew around like they were running, one blue, one white, another green, curls and teeth, claws and fins, horns and fluff.
She choked a sob, her hand covering her mouth, she could see their faces were blurred that their features would shift and change, they'd pass each other and they'd merge briefly and separate looking different. She couldn't remember them properly but they were small just children like she had been back then, they never got to grow up. And there were others now, Arceus, she knew these ones too. They almost looked like her a lot of them sometimes with patterns or different shades, some had birth defects and they ranged in age and size. There were some full grown bigger than her even, her chest ached as one with glowing yellow crystals implanted into their flesh that oozed droplets of blood floated by their expression twisted into one of agony and she could still hear their screams. A tiny barely fully developed one was being cradled by another, they had a stumpy tail even shorter than her own and during development their ribcage had sunk inwards, they were only a few weeks old when they'd been terminated by that monster.
She'd tried to name all of them when she was conscious, her body had been driven by a parasite that squeezed on her state of self crushing and smothering her as they piloted her body for their own twisted use. She'd screamed and yelled and struggled in her own head desperate to take back control but she wasn't strong enough, she never had been strong enough… The parasite had become intertwined with her genetics, she wasn't sure how but it needed to use her body as it could no longer freely possess any other victim. And so that's what they did. They used her body using her genes to create and clone a perfect vessel as they despised her form. They made, observed, monitored, altered, maimed, harvested, mauled and killed…they'd killed so many in their attempts to create the perfect body. All her clones, all her siblings as they were to her, they didn't deserve that but they were treated as worthless and she was powerless in it all. It was her fault. She killed them by being so weak.
She felt herself move her hands touching the barrier, that Arceus forsaken barrier, it had always been here even before the nightmares before she was even technically born. She was never that strong and her psychic powers were pitiful at best, but she'd always been able to sense the others around her as she was growing in her development tube, her brothers, sisters and siblings. They had far better psychic abilities than her even with their genetic tampering, they'd reached out to each other calling to each other playing together in a mental realm despite their bodies being far apart. Their auras, their life and energy brought color to the black mind world they played in, colors flew and dashed around it was bright and loud and joyous. She could hear them see the life color and whimsy, but she couldn't reach them, she spent so long pounding on that barrier shouting crying to be with her family who played together without noticing her. She was forced to watch them together from her dark place on the other side, and watch as they began to fade away, color and life fading as they disappeared. Until only she was left in the bleak empty mind place in the darkness. Alone.
She could only sob as her hands pressed against the barrier, guilt tangling around her body and soul like vines to squeeze her until she choked out. The barrier whined quietly in cruel irony it finally formed a crack, splitting quietly like glass in sharp twinges. The playing twos from her childhood stopped and looked down at the crumbling barrier, as their bodies changed and grew taking on adult appearances, their faces that were blurred gaining full red eyes that looked at her in nothing but hatred and rage. She stared back at them slowly floating backwards as she watched their bodies press together fusing and merging growing in size, arms stacking on top of each other patches of colored skin fusing, melding, together eyes growing only larger with hate streams of red flaring out like growing flames. The clones simply looked at her in disdain as they floated away backwards into the bleakness disappearing as the colossal fusion of her original siblings and her first guilt punched their many arms through what was left of the barrier grabbing her in a hand that fused with the others to crush the life out of her.
"How is it that you are alive, you were the weakest of us, you did not deserve to survive and yet we perished for you to persist?!" All their voices yelled directly into her head while also screaming all around her some of the voices slower some louder creating a painful overlap of their rage.
"You stole our lives, you should not have lived! You should have faded to nothing, cease to be before you even existed. None of us would've ever known or had to deal with the despair or care of it and you wouldn't have wasted so many resources. You are nothing more than a waste of existence. Yet you refuse to die! Your body was a puppet for something powerful and cruel yet here you still are. They should have left you a rotted husk devoured from the inside out, yet they let you live when others far more worthy went through so much worse!" Their fist clenched around her as she made a pained sob like scream, her vision was blurry from tears and pain but she could make out her clones vaguely floating around behind the colossal fusion in emphasis of their point.
"You are just as much of that monster in your survival, your continued existence is but cruelty to others. You are no better than the parasite that grew inside you."
"I know!" She loudly sobbed, "I know and I'm so sorry! I never deserved to survive! I'm so sorry I've forgotten your faces and I've forgotten your names, you were just kids! You deserved better you deserved your chance at life to be free," she couldn't see through her tears, "I have nothing to show for my survival, each of you would've used your lives better, you would've soared, saved people, just-just done everything I can't and better. You would've been able to fight off the gaia energy, you wouldn't have been used and hurt even more people." She choked around tears and the grip around her, trying to look past her blurry vision to the disapproving clones watching her from behind the fusion of her siblings.
"I'm so sorry that you were made and tortured, that you were used and that you were hurt so badly. I should've fought harder to take back control, none of you deserved what happened. I'm sorry I never got to meet you, that you never got to live and see the world and pick your own names and have your own existence. If I could I would trade my life for any, for all of you to live instead."
"Something we agree on, your life for OURS," Her siblings all spoke at once, their fist shifting around her to expose her chest as their other hands came and plunged through her chest all at once to rip out her soul to trade their lives.
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"AH!" May shot upright from her sleep grasping at her chest with her hand gasping choking struggling to breathe past her tears. She gasped and struggled as though winded short rapid breaths as streams of tears fell down her face and evident by her soaking wet shoulders she'd been crying for a while in her sleep. Her other hand came up to wipe clumsily at her face as she sat still trying to breathe properly, cringing to herself as her arm received a layer of snot, trying to breathe through her nose she choked coughing abruptly in a way that made her whole body and head hurt. Her hand holding her chest grasped and released around the space where the mega stone and parasite used to be implanted, the scar from it's removal still tender, hurting as she agitated it.
Still mouth breathing with difficulty around the tightness of her chest she sniffled with loud difficulty. Her eyes were still streaming as she slowly pulled her legs to her body curling in on herself, tail wrapping over her feet. Her free hand came to hold her face once more as her body trembled, she gasped a short hiccup of a breath burying her face into her knees, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry everyone," she could only quietly croak.
She started to try to name them all, speaking their names into the world like a prayer like it'd fix things like by speaking their names they'll get to exist, apologizing to each of them in turn as she did hoping to eventually earn their forgiveness for being alive to earn her right of life.
The mewtwo cried and wailed to herself in the darkness of the forest holding herself for security trembling and shaking as the sobs shook her whole body, nothing was around to hear her and if it was it didn't care enough to check on her. Once more she was all alone with nothing but her horrid thoughts, her guilt and shame. The squeeze of her tail around herself brought no comfort. She likely would not get back to sleep..
'Why did I get to live while they did not?' A question she had asked herself in her mind many, many times before that she would never receive an answer for. She would simply have to live with it.
#My writing#Mewtwosona#Mewtwosona May#tw violence#Tw blood#Tw infant mortality#Probably don't read if you're feeling down#May struggles with a lot of survivors guilt#She was the only one who survived the project she was on and then later survived being possessed as a shadowtwo#And unfortunately witness a lot of the cruelty and violence the shadowtwo possession did and is deeply traumatised by it#In reality her original siblings would be glad she's alive#They knew she existed and actually tried to break the barrier too because that's their sister!!#Let us play with her!!#Unfortunately her psychic ability wasn't strong enough on her side and to them she didn't look conscious but they did want to get to her#As for the clones made by shadowtwo they weren't even conscious and had been made without souls or minds#So like a lot of that is her projecting guilt and assuming consciousness from them#But despite that she did still name them because she felt they deserve to live and be seen as more than vessels for shadowtwl#Idk she's just heavily traumatised and alone#And would never tell anyone about her trauma ever#Honestly the barrier is also a metaphor for the autistic experience#Being separated from your peers and not knowing why you're different and why you can't connect with them#It also means if Mattwo was canon she'd be incredibly protective of him and also sobbing because a brother#Patting twosona: this sad girl can fit so much trauma
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I'm back from my mandatory two day socialization recovery period required for all socialization even if I enjoy it. It's time for some Mermaid!Din au thoughts (No thots unfortunately but we'll live)
First off I love the isolation that the reader faces because of the lighthouse they live in. And I love how the townspeople being nice to the reader help give them a reason to stick around when weird things start happening.
I love how it took months before anything strange starts happening, like were Din and Grogu just not around or were they observing the reader. Did Din ever try to stop Grogu from damaging the lighthouse or did he let the little rascal do as he pleased.
· And gosh I love the idea of reader dressing in old worn clothing, a knit sweater with fraying sleeves, sweat pants covered in paint from repairs, an old windbreaker to help keep the cold out. It makes me heart all warm and fuzzy.
Edna, who i've head cannoned as this series Miss Chatham (H2O: just add water charter) is honestly life goals. Like live near ocean - check(ish), have rare knowledge that can be used to help new person - check, being just slightly spooky -amazing. And is that a little matchmaker I see her playing? I love it.
Then Grogu being injured :( I bet that Din is absolutely being eaten alive by guilt even though we all know it’s not his fault and he does literally anything he can to keep Grogu safe and happy.
And In love how Din is venerable enough to ask for help, like he recognizes that this is something out of his area of expertise so he goes to the person he knows is “safe” to get help. He’s humble enough to admit that he needs help and is not capable of doing everything for Grogu. And being able to admit that is an important life skill that not enough people have.
· But even after he ask the reader for help he is still hesitant which shows that even though hes trusting reader he will still kick (is it still a kick if its with a tail) the readers ass if he hurts him.
“But you can help him” Oh my heart the trust in that sentence. Like Din just heard, “so yeah I can help your son but I have to take him somewhere it will be hard for you to follow. And he needs to stay there for at least a week, and even if you manage to come its going to be so far from your natural element.” But he was still on board with the plan. And then he goes to climb on the rock so he can drag himself all the way to the light house because he can’t let his little boy go alone even if it means hurting himself to do it.
Reader was smart af for doing the old blanket slipperaroo trick
Reader immediately knowing something was up when she walked into town is so realistic. She literally is hiding a massive secret at her lighthouse of course anyone would be on edge walking back into society. Especially a society that already knows a little something about the secret. But them to amplify it. Miss Chatham to the rescue. She knows that reader is up to something and she uses her powers as an old lady with lungs and karen potential to scare off the problem for a little bit. The reader just placed so much trust on Edna by straight up telling her that she's housing Din and Grogu.
· Also that fool browsing the menstrual hygiene rack, like dumbass. Is this your way of making him miss every shot? Because we know that storm troopers are well known for their ability to miss every shot so making him automatically turn to tampons? Genius
Cashier for the win, like beep beep bitch now pay up
The "cyare" omg and then the reader warning Din about the cookies and him being so curious about them. The way Din is so perceptive of the readers mood that he is already able to tell that something is wrong. It was such a smart idea to have the reader lead with asking him to give her a small chance to calm down about what happened in the town.
Din and the reader low-key flirting and teasing each other at the end is so adorable. Grogu with the cookie absolutely melts my heart like of course that boy is hungry.
So this is a slightly polished layout of my stream of consciousness while reading this. Does it make sense? Probably not. But I love this idea and you have done it justice.
Ahhhhhhz thank you for all of the lovely thoughts and compliments, im glad you like my story and I hope it continuesto meet your expectations!!!! And you made perfect sense darling!
To reply to some things:
Honestly, I chose the isolation for two reasons, 1- it made sense, especially for how the plot is going to play out, privacy and isolation is needed, and 2- im introverted and I like being alone, so I just projected
The town's people are great! They are used to having lighthouse keepers just up and leave because of all the weird stuff, so the second that one sticks around they were all overjoyed, because like I said, a lot of the people work on boats fishing so the lighthouse is super important to them
Din did wait and observe the reader, wanting to know what to do when to attempt to scare them off. But also like no, he tried keeping Grogu away from the lighthouse as much as possible, not knowing what the reader might do to him, and just being a protective father, but we all know Grogu is a little shit and he snuck out before Din could stop him
Reader dresses in the COMFIEST clothes, and honestly, I am very much a sweater and comfy leggings kind of person, so again, something I am projecting
I love that you and everyone is loving Edna, she is definitely one of those cool old ladies that sneak you treats and shenanigans when no one is looking!
Also because idk if anyone has pointed it out.... in the last chapter I thought I was heavily hinting at it, but maybe it was more subtle than I thought, Edna and her MERMAID were alot more than friends *wink wink* she's gay as fuck and thats why she made the joke about not liking NUTS
Din loves Grogu, in and out of this AU, and it was 1000% not his fault that Grogu got hurt, in fact he was trying to protect him! Din definitely panicked and the first person that came to mind was the reader, and while he didn't know them, he knew for some reason they were safe to go to for help (as well as knowing the lighthouse would be a good place to hide while some things cooled down 👀), but Din will always be cautious because he is scared for his son
Din is just *chef's kiss* 👌, an amazing father who will do ANYTHING for his son, no matter what it takes
The whole blanket thing literally came from my childhood, thinking about how my sisters and I would drag eachother around on blankets, and I just thought it would be great for this scenario
Like the reader is gonna get real paranoid during this series, im not going to lie to you, things are gonna get rough, but Edna is the MVP she's one of those people that could pull your darkest secrets from you just by glancing at you, and the reader pretty much assumed she was safe to talk to after she had informed her about the food offerings
Ok ok, as for the dudes, I was too lazy to look up their names and stuff but they were these dudes from season 1 that gave Din Grogu's bounty: the first dude is the one 'hiding' in the women's hygiene section
Din is just obsessed for human food at this point, and he feels things for the reader even of he doesn't want to admit it quite yet
Din also may be oblivious as fuck, but he's also observant, hes a bounty hunter for fucks sake, he needs to be able to pick up on these things, so yes in my stories Din is really good at picking up on emotions, even if he doesn't fully know how to react to them
Im aiming for a slow burn foc, but to be honest with you all, chances are it is going to be a regularly paced romance, which for my writing is slow paced, so yeah the idiots are flirting and teasing eachother, but also like they will not be talking about or admitting feelings for at least a few more chapters
Grpgu deserves all the cookies!!! He's a growing tadpole, who has been magically healing himself while in a coma like state, so he hasnt eaten in days, and if he wanted he'd probably be able to devour 2x his body weight and then some, so a few cookies recieved in some kind of mysterious way are well achieved
Merman!Din Tags: @writeforfandoms @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @honey-goth @mando-abs @lux-cream-67 @rachelle-on-the-run @katcharm @ladamari68 @bluegalaxyprime @my-life-as-a-bird @altarsw @zarakem @stargazingthenightaway
(Added the taglist in case any of you guys wanted to read over my thoughts and things bc I have some hcs and cleared somethings up ypu may be wondering about)
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BoP!Roman Sionis has BPD (in my opinion) | Headcanon
Disclaimer: This is purely a headcanon with some “evidence” from the film. I have been diagnosed with BPD. This is by no means meant to invalidate any other headcanons (like the Bipolar one, which I’ll also mention here). Please don’t come for my ass, thanks!
Personally, I headcanon BoP!Roman Sionis to suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD).
For one, I have been diagnosed with it, so I feel more connected to him through that (so, I may be projecting a liiittle bit). But he also shows quite a few signs for it, albeit it probably wasn’t intentional, nor does he have to have a specific disorder assigned to him anyway. Still!
I saw a lot of people assign Bipolar Disorder to him from the day the movie premiered, and while I can’t deny the possibility, nor do I want to take away anyone’s headcanon, one reason why I was always a bit “Hhh, idk” with it is because his mood swings are way too rapid. They happen in such quick succession, whereas Bipolar Disorder is known for- not gradual, but more long-lasting and slower changing moods/mood swings.
BPD on that note happens in moments, almost. You can be feeling like you’re on top of the world, a God even, in one moment, and the very next - usually because of a trigger - you plummet, you feel everything at once, it is overwhelming. Most common are anxiety, guilt, or anger. Rage. Which Roman displays. He is also quick to calm down after an episode and act as if nothing has happened at all, which is also quite common in people with BPD.
It is of course possible that he has Bipolar and BPD. I’ve met some people who suffered from both (and more). It’s possible and quite common, since BPD often comes with other disorders anyway. They don’t cancel each other out.
So, if anyone headcanons him with Bipolar, then that’s what he has and you can do whatever you want with that, I support that.
I just feel as if sometimes people reached a quick verdict because the mood swings were so potent that they might have immediately connected it to Bipolar, because that’s pretty much all that people usually know about it. Or someone who suffers from it has seen Roman and thought “I see myself in that” and that’s super valid because that’s basically what I’m doing here, too. I still thought I’d bring it to attention, since it almost became Fanon at one point and I just felt as though the more plausible answer has been overlooked all this time, I’m not going to lie.
Onto the signs/”evidence” of Roman suffering from BPD that I found/have personally interpreted that way (again, you can interpret/headcanon whatever you want):
Please note that there are 9 Symptoms of BPD that are used to diagnose people. You have to show at least 5 of them to qualify for a diagnosis. It can’t be diagnosed before the age of 18, and it’s important that the symptoms have been going on for a long time in a certain pattern that aligns with BPD, rather than anything else because most BPD symptoms are ones that show in other disorders as well.
Intense fear of real or imagined abandonment and frantic attempts/efforts to stop said abandonment from happening: Roman is shown to 1) not handle rejection well at all (example: Keo, Dinah’s betrayal - and his reaction), 2) cling onto other people (example: Dinah), 3) need reassurance that he’s not being betrayed/abandoned (example: Dinah), etc. You get the idea. He reacts extremely to these things. Mr Keo rejects him? He gets murdered. Dinah betrays him? He breaks down completely.
Intense mood swings: What I said above - his mood swings are quick and extreme. He’s agitated, even raging, in one moment and in the next he jumps up, is giddy and excited, as though nothing ever happened.
A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterised by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation: Just like moods, and helped by the black/white thinking, opinions of other people can change in a heartbeat. Also characterised by a BPD-exclusive thing, called Splitting. One moment you’ll love someone to the moon and back, then they make one mistake, change their tone, anything, and you hate them, they’re evil, you want them gone. Sounds as unhealthy and exhausting as it is.
Again with Dinah - she used to just be a singer in his club, which he was fascinated by. She comforted him. Suddenly, he made her his new driver and his opinion of her didn’t necessarily change, but it intensified, he “loved” her more than anything, or anyone else at that time - idealised her (I’d say that she momentarily was his new Favourite Person (FP, also BPD exclusive), even though Zsasz has been his FP for over a decade by then). Then she betrayed him and while he didn’t want Zsasz to kill her immediately, you could say that he may have wanted to do it himself. He definitely hated her at that point. She was evil, a betrayer. She needed to be gone.
Distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self: Basically, I’d say that his carefully constructed vain facade is part of it. I think he built this flamboyant, outgoing persona to appeal to others and be able to socialise better. He lives off of approval and attention, and the best way to get it is to be loud and eccentric the way we know him in the film. And he is narcissistic to a fault, which you could attribute to BPD as well, but also his lack of a clear sense of self, therefore forcing it by idealising himself almost. Just my thoughts, though.
The more valuable evidence for this is Black Mask. Roman has this different persona, both as protection, and as a means to let go, to get away from himself, to be even more cruel, etc. But he doesn’t always make use of it, hell, for all we know, the end of the movie really was the first time (in a long time, perhaps) he’s actually been Black Mask. I believe that he doesn’t really know who he is, or who he wants to be. Black Mask knows it, though, and he is better in ways that Roman can’t push himself to be. At least that’s my take on it.
I just feel as if Roman’s very flamboyant and eccentric persona is something he consciously built, that it’s someone he pretends to be, even though deep down he knows he’s not that. Or maybe it’s just a part of him that he amplifies because he doesn’t know what else there is to him, doesn’t see anything else significant to himself. You know?
Impulsive and often dangerous behaviours: Roman abuses substances (he takes drugs, drinks alcohol), especially when he is trying to cope after being rejected (Keo). Other things would only be speculation, so I won’t list them, but it’s safe to say that he does show this symptom.
Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anger, or recurrent physical fights): Not much to say to that, if you’re reading this, you have seen the film and know exactly why I say that he clearly shows this symptom.
Paranoia and Dissociation: It’s not an entirely clear thing, but I’d argue that it’s safe to say that he shows clear signs of dissociation and paranoia. [I’d also say he is shown to be psychotic (he’s definitely delusional and has auditory hallucinations, so- psychosis).]
For the paranoia, I doubt I have to say a lot about this, but- Black Canary again. “You wouldn’t betray me, would you?” after he’s already been betrayed by Harley and then Erika, who he thought has been laughing at him. He can’t trust anyone. Not even Zsasz, apparently. Because when Victor told him Dinah is a rat, he asked him “Are you sure?”, making it clear that in this very moment, he didn’t trust him either. I feel like he probably doesn’t even trust Victor as blindly as we were made to believe anyway, due to his paranoia.
[Now for the psychosis: You can hear too loud and distorted laughter when Keo rejects him, when Erika supposedly laughed at him, and when Victor tells him Dinah is a rat. I’d say that it’s safe to assume that he hears this laughter in his head - auditory hallucinations.]
He also dissociates, when he becomes Black Mask, and when he is having an episode because of the diamond being stolen. Only Victor could ground him by intense physical contact and seeking just as intense eye contact.
As you can see, I can assign 7 of the 9 criteria to Roman (the two that have been left out were self-harming/suicidal behaviour and chronic feelings of emptiness, both of which I can’t determine through what we’ve been shown in the film, so).
Still, to me, he may as well suffer from both BPD and Bipolar, which would make his psychosis even more likely (psychosis can also be caused by BPD, but actual hallucinations are less common, usually we are more likely to “only” experience delusions).
If anyone’s even read all of this - What are your thoughts on this? Do you think it’s plausible? Did you have a wholly different opinion? I’d love to hear anything people have to say, as long as it is respectful!
#bpd#borderline personality disorder#roman sionis#ewan mcgregor#birds of prey#harley quinn birds of prey#birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn#headcanon#mental disorder headcanon#character study#dissociation#paranoia#psychosis#just for those who have blacklisted these tags idk#i wanted to write a vent fic because my bpd f-ed me over big time today#but instead i wrote this in the past three hours#and i am making it everyone else's problem#so rip lol
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I recently picked Mystic Messenger back up, and combined with my P5R brainrot, it gave me a crack crossover idea that just won’t leave me alone:
AU where Rika and V are Takuto’s parents.
Okay, hear me out for a second.
(Bear in mind that it’s been a year since I last played Mystic Messenger and I haven’t seen all the endings yet -- I haven’t played Rika’s Before Story or V’s After -- so this might not make any sense in canon and the characterization might be all over the place. Then again, it’s a crack AU, so…)
Major spoilers for both Mystic Messenger and Persona 5 Royal under the read more!
The beginning is fairly obvious. Rika and V are an inseparable couple, they get engaged, she gets pregnant. But then The Mint Eye thing happens.
Rika considers getting rid of the baby just because it’s V’s, but deep down she still has feelings for him. Plus, having a baby in the cult is like getting a new believer but without all the purifying process, right? So she keeps the child.
Rika treats Takuto similarly to how she treats MC: she’s strangely kind to him, she mostly keeps him away from the other believers, and she doesn’t force him to take the elixir or anything. She already sees Takuto as being purified, because he’s just a toddler, so no need for all those painful rituals; she just needs to raise him the way she wants. Of course, since he’s the savior’s son, all of the believers think he’s like Baby Jesus, so no one bothers him.
You know what happens then. Canon happens. I’m not sure what route and what ending would fit this, but it needs to be a route where they go to Mint Eye and save Saeran. Maybe V’s Normal Ending? I don’t know, I can’t remember if Saeran survives in that ending. Well, let’s assume he does because I need that for my sanity.
And if he doesn’t, then I don’t care tHIS IS A FIX-IT AU.
please let me have this.
So, anyways, they infiltrate Mint Eye, they save Saeran, and they find Takuto. Given that V has been infiltrating the Mint Eye for a while, he already knows about him, and by now he has figured out that that must be his child. Either way, they get him away from the cult before any “cleansing” can take place, and V and MC commit to taking care of him.
Takuto starts off as a very anxious kid, which is normal considering that a bunch of strangers suddenly took him away from his mother and everything he has ever known. He mainly sticks with Saeran (which isn’t good for either of them), but, over time, MC gets him to open up to her and V and, eventually, to the rest of the RFA. Of course, Rika already drilled her ideas of “true paradise” and “eternal happiness” into him, so V and MC take it upon themselves to decondition him and reeducate him. Their efforts pay off, as Takuto eventually manages to adjust to normal society fairly well, but you know that those cultish ideas will still linger in the back of his mind, even if he doesn’t realize it.
Though his memories of Mint Eye completely fade away with age, Takuto inherits V’s gentleness and self-sacrificial tendencies and Rika’s madness and obsession with eradicating pain. When he’s mature enough, he also learns about what happened around that time (but maybe he doesn’t have all the details), because V and MC are determined to not keep any more harmful secrets like they used to.
Anyways, growing up with the RFA fuels Takuto’s natural passion for helping people. Yoosung introduces him to cooking, Jaehee teaches him her work ethic, Saeyoung transfers him his love of cats and animals in general (which is why, in Takuto’s words, “they don’t seem to share the sentiment”), and Zen constantly reminds him to never give up his dreams, no matter how crazy they might seem. He tells him about how he ran away from home to pursue his dream career and has never regretted it since, which Takuto takes very seriously.
As for Jumin, Takuto thinks that he’s too cold-hearted, but he looks up to him for his managerial talent and admires the bond that he shares with his father. When V and MC are away from home, Jumin offers to babysit Takuto for them, so he gets many exclusive tours of C&R, where he starts dreaming of growing up to work on a project much larger than himself with experts in the field (read: leading a team of researchers and having his very own lab).
Takuto also sees that Saeyoung and Saeran are getting along well and slowly overcoming their trauma together, so he comes to believe that everyone can change for the better, and thus, that everyone deserves a second chance, regardless of the mistakes they’ve made in the past. This will come into play at least two times: First, in his reality, when he lets Akechi and most of the Palace Owners roam free; and, second, when he decides to turn his own life around after the change of heart.
Anyways, Takuto meets Rumi, begins dating her, graduates high school, goes to college, and gets engaged after a few years.
V has always felt uneasy about Takuto dating. He knows that Takuto is too nice for his own good, so a part of him is afraid that he’ll end up in an obsessive relationship like the one he had with Rika. But, when Takuto introduces Rumi to his family, he and MC can tell that she’s supportive, well-adjusted, and considerate of Takuto’s feelings, so they are happy for both of them.
And then the burglary thing happens.
Takuto closes himself off from friends and family, overcome with grief and guilt. He still keeps in contact with the RFA, but it’s only because he knows that they will only get more worried if he stops talking to them altogether. Everyone at RFA is concerned, but V especially so, because he understands the pain of losing your fiancée and blaming yourself for not being able to do something to help her, and he doesn’t want Takuto to deal with it on his own.
After Takuto rewrites Rumi’s memories, he tells the RFA the same thing he tells everyone: he and Rumi broke up and it was his fault. This isn’t the RFA’s first rodeo, so most of them can tell that he’s hiding something, but they’ve known him for a long time, they know he’s a good person, and they basically raised him, so they decide to trust him (for the most part).
Takuto isolates himself more and more, acting like he’s fine to avoid being a burden, convinced that he must solve his problems by himself, like his father does. V and MC can see where this is going, and the former keeps spamming the messenger, practically begging Takuto to give him a call and talk to him, or at least get some therapy. But Takuto insists that he’s okay, that he doesn’t want them to worry about him, and that he just hasn’t contacted them much because he’s busy with work.
V starts blaming himself for being unable to reach out to his son, but, when he realizes that Takuto got his self-blaming habit from him, and only blames himself further.
As for the other RFA members, Jumin thinks that Takuto needs time to grieve and that, if he doesn’t want to accept their help, there’s nothing they can do about it. Jaehee is disheartened but she reluctantly agrees, hoping that Takuto will go back to normal soon. Zen thinks that they should be doing more for him, and that, if they put enough effort into it, he will come around.
Yoosung might revert back to his old ways and question V on why he isn’t doing enough to help his own son. Seeing as Takuto is his cousin and everything he has left of Rika, I’m sure he's very protective of him...
Once they all get worried enough, Saeyoung tracks down Takuto with his hacking skills, but he doesn’t find anything suspicious, so they decide to respect his privacy. After all, V doesn’t want to get too obsessive and repeat the mistakes he made with Rika, so he decides to listen to Jumin’s advice and give Takuto some space, hoping he’s making the right choice.
Meanwhile, Takuto figures out that Shido is behind the conspiracy that took away his research, which only strengthens his resolve to keep everything a secret from the RFA. Shido is too similar to the Choi twins’ father, and Takuto is afraid that, if Saeyoung hears about this, he won’t let it go, which could bring back some awful memories from his childhood and the Mint Eye thing… Especially considering that Akechi is in a similar position to Saeran, except that, you know, at least his mother wasn’t deliberately cruel to him.
A lot of the sympathy that Takuto feels towards Akechi comes from his experience with the Choi twins. He can deduce that he’s being manipulated by Shido like how Saeran was manipulated by Rika, so he wants to save him just like how V saved the twins. That also applies to the Yoshizawa twins, since the two of them promised to always be together in pursuit of their dream, but Sumire was the “weaker” of the two and was secretly envious of Kasumi. All in all, the similarities are everywhere, which might, consciously or subconsciously, affect the way Takuto interacts with the PTs.
In any case, Takuto just wants to protect the PTs from the same kind of trauma that the RFA went through. But -- he isn’t like Rika, or so he tells himself. He’s convinced that his methods are right because they can save everyone without causing any more suffering. He’s pretty sure he’s sane (he’s not). Besides, Rika’s dream was originally pretty noble, so it should be fine as long as he doesn’t start drugging people, right?
(He will retraumatize them, hold them hostage, and brainwash them, though, because he doesn’t see it as such)
The third semester comes along. I’m sure you also know what happens here. Takuto gets a god complex, the PTs fight him, defeat him, steal his treasure, and they destroy his perfect reality.
After the change of heart, Takuto is crushed, so he goes back to V and MC and confesses the whole truth through tears. He profusely apologizes, fully aware of how he retraumatized all of the Phantom Thieves to guide them to ‘salvation’, not unlike what Rika did to the members of Mint Eye, and he takes responsibility, knowing that he should’ve asked for help much sooner.
V and MC are shocked and heartbroken, faced with the fact that their son suffered so much that he fell into insanity and no one even noticed. They feel as if, with all the trauma that the RFA has already gone through, they should’ve seen the warning signs, and they should’ve tried harder to help Takuto heal… but they know from experience there’s no guarantee that that would’ve solved anything, so it’s pointless to dwell in what-ifs.
V and MC listen to Takuto’s explanation. They don’t understand any of the cognitive psience stuff and they are sure that he’s delusional because of the whole reality thing, but they comfort him to the best of their abilities. MC tells Takuto that he’s not like Rika and that he can always make up for his past mistakes, while V assures him that it wasn’t his fault and that, if someone like V could get back on his feet after everything that happened with the Mint Eye, Takuto can do it too.
Takuto takes their advice to heart, choosing to leave counseling, seek therapy, and make amends with his former patients. The RFA supports him while he gets his life together (but Jumin didn’t teach him how to drive, of course… oh god please tell me Jumin didn’t teach him how to drive), and he begins (continues?) to volunteer for the association’s charity events, so that he can keep helping people in need. That’s around the time when the P5R ending happens.
And… yep. That’s pretty much it.
Bonus points if Takuto ends up introducing the RFA to the PTs and they all become a big, happy found family. Jaehee and Akiren can bond over coffee making, Yoosung and Ryuji can bond over games, Zen and Ann can bond over acting and modelling, Jumin and Makoto can bond over being robots, V and Yusuke can bond over art, Saeyoung and Futaba can bond over memes and hacking, Ray and Haru can bond over flowers, and Saeran and Akechi can bond over their hatred of their fathers, haha.
Anyways, this crack AU became way more serious and more wholesome than originally intended... Now I actually want this to be a thing, haha.
#i can't believe this is my first contribution to the mysme fandom#persona 5 royal#p5r#mystic messenger#mysme#mm#mystic messenger au#persona au#takuto maruki#p5r maruki#jihyun kim#mm v#mm mc#mm rika#mm rfa#this might not make sense#its a barely edited word vomit#game crossover#p5 x mysme#mine#takuto kim au
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how would the fo3 companions react to the lone wanderer confessing their love for them right before activating the purifier? (super excited to see a new fallout companion blog btw! i look forward to reading your writing!)
(We're already getting in the angst. I like that. Also I never really bothered to complete FO3 so some of this might sound off)
(Excluding: Jericho [he's like 60 I don't have the heart for that], Star Paladin Cross [No confirmed age and she knew Lone as a kid so it feels weird], Sarge [He's a robot], Fawkes [He's a mutant]. Dogmeat will be written as owner and pet bond love.)
(Broken Steel ending added as well)
Companions React to Lone confessing before activating the purifier
Butch
Butch sat there as Lone was talking with Sentinel Lyons about the situation, gazing into the irritated chamber. He took a step away from it, he didn't want to get infected even if his geiger counter wasn't ticking. Lone turned to him before he noticed. "Butch." he looked to them, assuming they were about to ask him to go in there himself, "Before you even ask, no way. I'm not going in there-" they interrupted him before he continued, "I'm not asking you to go in there. I have something to tell you." he raised his brow at them as he waited for them to continued. That's when they decided to confess. Why now? Why couldn't they do it before when he could have time to formulate a response? Why did they have to do it right as they were going to go into-
Butch went to grab hold their arm before Lyons stopped him before the door would crush him, letting him stumble back. All he could do was watch Lone risk their whole life for this project and he wasn't okay with that. He pounded on the glass, "You don't get to just do that!!" he yelled to them. They were already entering to code, unprepared for how sudden the radiation kicked in when it came online. The last thing Lone heard was Butch's cries to them before their world went black.
BROKEN STEEL
Lone's conversation with Elder Lyons was almost finished when Butch rushed into the room and pushed the Elder out of the way and practically tackled Lone into a hug. He refused to move until the Elder excused himself from the situation. There was mostly silence for the few minutes Butch didn't speak. He started with a shaky breath, "You can't just do that, you asshole. You didn't even give me any time to respond!" He looked up to their face, surprising them with how tear stained it was. "I love you too you jerk. Just don't do anything like that ever again." he buried his face back into their shoulder. "I'm not going to lose the only person who gives a damn about me..."
Charon
The situation was not looking good and that was pretty obvious. Anyone who entered that chamber probably wouldn't be making it out alive. Except for him, he already experienced the effects of suffering radiation and was practically immune to it. He didn't want to go in there without Lone's say though. Without their request. That's what they always did. Never ordered him around, never got aggressive for messing up. Always treating him like they actually cared while carefully wording their sentences. Saying he can do what he wishes and say what he wants. It still felt wrong of him to just waltz in there without their say... They turned to him, looking him in the eyes. They said a brief confession before stepping into the chamber. His eyes went wide, reaching out to them before he could stop himself. It was too late. They were on the floor in a matter of seconds while their words looped through his mind. Why didn't they send him in there? Why would they fall in love with him? Why? Why did they have to leave him?
BROKEN STEEL
He was standing in the doorway while they were coming back to consciousness. Normally he'd just go back to Underworld but he kind of shot his previous owner and he couldn't bear the guilt of walking away from them like that. Why did he feel this way?
Elder Lyons stepped out as Lone noticed Charon's presence. He took a step towards them, "You're awake." he noted. They nodded while he thought of how to proceed. "Did you mean all of that you said?" they stared at him, oddly caught off guard from the boldness. They nodded again. He didn't react at first, trying to register the possibility of someone liking him. "Charon?" his eyes focused back to theirs. Sighing, he sat down next to them while setting his hand atop of theirs. "Don't do that again." they nodded a final time, resting their head onto his shoulder.
Clover
If you came up to Clover and told her that she would be following someone who would have her standing next to them near a radioactive chamber that held the key to fresh water and that they'd free her from her collar and didn't treat her like shit a couple months back she would've laughed and walked away. But that's where she was. Collar free next to that exact chamber and that exact person. Funny how that works. Clover wasn't an expert on the sciencey stuff of life but she was pretty sure stepping into that room would be a death sentence in seconds. And Lone was about to do just that. But they stopped. They met her gaze. She didn't know what to do or how to feel right now. The project meant a lot to them but they were going to die. They walked over to her, grabbing her hand. They choose now to express how genuine their feelings are for her and that they actually wanted to treat her properly. That didn't help the fact that Clover didn't know how to respond in any way. They let go and bolted into the chamber. "Wait-" Clover called out, but the door was already shut. Lone smiled to her briefly before proceeding. She watched with horror and confusion as Lone let their life slip through their lips. "Lover...?" she called out again, voice almost shattered. "No..."
BROKEN STEEL
She was there before they awoke. She visited whenever she could, refusing to believe that they were truly gone. She couldn't measure the amount of relief she felt when she knew she was right. She let Elder Lyons do the talking first, impatient she was, but she supposed she could wait a little longer to properly see them again.
The second the were alone she strutted up to them, "Don't think you can escape me that easily, lover." she let her arms drape around their shoulders. "So you really adore me that much, huh? Glad the feelings mutual." she leaned into their chest. No more Eulogy. No more fear. No more leashes. She was okay with that.
Dogmeat
Dogmeat didn't like the scent that came from that chamber. Dangerous, lethal. Humans shouldn't go in there. Lone leaned down to him, scratching him behind the ears. "Stay here Dogmeat. You're a good boy," they wrapped their arms around him as their breath became unsteady, "I love you. You're a good dog." They stood up and approached the chamber. Dogmeat tilted his head. Something was off, Lone was scared and upset at something. They were in the area with the foul smell. He let out a whine. Something bad was going to happen. They fell to the floor, unmoving. Too still. They weren't imitating the play dead trick. Something was wrong. He jumped onto the glass, scratching at it. Why weren't they getting up? What was wrong? He wanted his owner.
He wanted Lone.
BROKEN STEEL
He laid next to their bed while they were out. He didn't let them out of his sights, no matter how The Brotherhood tried to usher him away. Elder Lyons stepped in, but he didn't react. He wasn't Lone. He wanted Lone. He stood next to Dogmeat for a while. Dogmeat's ears perked up, Lone was awakening. He stood up as he watched them move again. His tail wagged so intensely Lone was worried he was going to sprain it. He leaped onto the bed to cover their face in kisses, finally able to hear their laughter again. He didn't pay attention to Elder Lyons as he spoke. Lone was back. He was happy again.
(This was shorter than I'd like it to be but there's a lot of companions for FO3 that are just odd to write for romance scenes ^^;)
#fallout 3 companions react#fallout 3#fo3#butch deloria#charon#clover#dogmeat#fo3 dogmeat#fallout#fallout 3 butch#fallout 3 charon#fallout 3 clover
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The Truth Has Two Faces Part 2
Amari Fam feels for #AmariAppreciationWeek!
Read Part 1 Here
----
The trek from the watchpoint apartments to the labs and administrative building had felt unnaturally long that morning, as if every step was offering her the chance to turn back to her apartment, or veer off to the training area in the hangar to blow off steam. She saw Genji meditating in his usual spot on the cliffs, Brigitte hunched over the popped hood of the watchpoint’s sole, miraculously still-running truck, but the watchpoint was never that crowded--not when a handful of Overwatch’s members were always off doing a mission in some far-flung corner of the world. Zenyatta, McCree, D.Va, and Tracer, noticeably, were gone, and the gap left by the orca filled the tarmac with a near-blinding morning light reflecting off the sea as Pharah went up the steps to the main building built into the rock of Gibraltar itself.
Satya was in the lab, talking with Winston and Torbjörn, and displaying a hard-light projection of the watchpoint with several areas highlighted in blue. Pharah wasn’t sure whether she was suggesting them as potential areas in need of refurbishment, or vulnerable points in Watchpoint security, but both Torbjörn and Winston were listening to her intently. Those gold eyes flicked to Pharah as she walked past, then flicked to the stairs Pharah was headed towards. Towards Athena’s primary server and the offices Jack and Ana had more or less requisitioned. Satya gave a nod, but Pharah wasn’t sure if it was to her or to something Winston or Torbjörn had said. She liked to think it was for her, but at the same time, too many words were running through her own head to dwell too much on it. She headed up that other flight of stairs and down a narrow hallway before reaching the room where Athena’s main server was. She could already hear Ana and Jack’s voices on the other side of the door. She took a deep breath before putting her hand on the panel next to the door. It slid open with a whoosh and both Jack and Ana cut themselves off at the sound, looking up at her from their own holo-table.
“Mum,” it felt a little odd to be saying it, the word felt heavy in the air, “Can we talk?”
“Of course--” the words came too quickly out of Ana.
“We’ll be back later,” Pharah said to Jack. He gave her a nod. With half of his scarred face illuminated by the glow of the holo-table, Pharah, like pretty much everyone else on the watchpoint, had to consciously remind herself that he wasn’t the strike commander any more. The truth was their contact had been pretty minimal since he and Ana had joined after the incident at Volskaya. Pharah assumed that was because she punched him in the face at her mother’s funeral, her mother who was walking toward her now. And now, since she had started out not wanting to talk to Ana, he probably had the good sense to keep out of it. Or maybe the search for Reaper was all that mattered to him. Either way, he returned his attention to the holo-table, and Ana kept a tight stoic face as she closed the distance between her and her daughter, but there was something vulnerable flickering in that one remaining eye.
She’s bracing herself, thought Pharah, Probably thinks I’m going to tear into her again.
And Pharah had to consciously tell herself that she wasn’t going to do that as they headed out of the office. Pharah also knew stress was speeding up the pace of her feet, as Ana trailed shortly behind, apparently trying to gather her words.
“Fareeha, I can’t tell you how much of a relief it is that---” Ana started but Pharah stopped walking.
“Just... give me a minute, okay?” she said, pivoting on her foot to look at Ana before resuming walking.
They walked on in silence, taking an exit out to the veranda overlooking the watchpoint, where Ana and Jack often talked when the offices seemed too cloistered. The morning was now brightening up into full daylight, but the yellow tinges of the golden hour still seemed to hang in the light off the sea. Pharah raked her fingers through her hair, the gold beads at her temples clicking.
“Okay, look...” said Pharah, “Here’s what this isn’t, okay?”
“What this... isn’t?” Ana started, her brow crinkling.
“This isn’t where we solve all of our problems and cry and hug each other, and everything is good forever,” said Pharah.
“...I... never thought it was,” said Ana, glancing off.
“There’s a lot to unpack,” said Pharah.
“I know.”
“A lot to unpack,” Pharah emphasized.
Ana just nodded and Pharah felt a heat rising in her chest.
“And I don’t want you to just...” Pharah sucked in a breath, “Lie down and take it and treat it like I’m just getting my frustrations out because that’s easier than actually looking at yourself. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and even though I’m your daughter, I’m an adult. And I want you to treat this like just as much as you’re hearing it from a peer as your daughter. Yes, I am emotional, but I’ve also taken a long time to figure out what I want to say.”
A muscle twitched in Ana’s jaw at the thought. “Very well,” she said folding her arms.
“So, to start off, I shouldn’t have been avoiding you the way I was back when you first joined the Watchpoint. I was angry, and it was childish. I wanted to inflict the pain you put me through on you for that pain’s sake. It was wrong. And I’m sorry.”
“I understand,” said Ana. ‘I forgive you’ felt too condescending at this point. Obviously, like Pharah said, she wasn’t going to lie back and simply take it, but she also knew a lot of this was a long time coming.
“The truth is, I was also dealing with... a lot of frustration about why now, why finally now you decided to join,” Pharah leveled her brown eyes at Ana, her brow set with determination, “You only joined when you realized operating independently of each other made us liabilities to each other... if the situation hadn’t gotten as dire as it had back there, you wouldn’t have even come back with them, would you?”
That’s their mission. We focus on our own. Jack had said.
Do you think Fareeha’s with them? Ana remembered her own response. Emotional. Distracted. Maybe if she had focused more--no--that was her daughter. Her daughter who was in Overwatch. In Overwatch despite everything she had done. In Overwatch despite Overwatch literally collapsing. Why wouldn’t she wonder if she was there? Why shouldn’t she---? What would she have done if Fareeha was there?
“...I don’t think I would have come back, no,” said Ana.
Pharah’s face scrunched up. “This is what I’m talking about!” she said, bringing her hands up, “You keep acting like suddenly you were completely alone after losing your eye!”
“You never responded to my letter!” said Ana.
“You thought a LETTER was enough after letting me think you were dead for years!” Pharah snapped, “You wrote a letter because you’re willing to chase down terrorists all over the world, but you couldn’t face me or dad! And did you even hear yourself in that letter?! ‘The world thought I was dead, I thought that was for the best.’ ‘I’ve buried those closest to me.’ ‘I cannot stop fighting, not while people are waiting for me.’ Like I’m not close to you? Like I haven’t spent my whole life waiting for you!? It sounded like you had no intention of ever seeing me again, like you thought you were going to die in battle and there was nothing I could do to stop you! That’s a great letter to get after already mourning you!” Pharah was breathing hard but she caught herself. A bitter chuckle shook her breath. “And sure. Let me write you back. Where should I have addressed it? 1800 ‘Squatting-in-the-Necropolis’ boulevard?’ You were living like a post-apocalyptic wanderer! You didn’t want me to write back. You only wrote to relieve your own guilt.”
“Fareeha--” Ana started but her own voice trailed off. She never thought of her letter as something so callous, but she supposed, with how long she had gone since talking to Pharah, that such a breakdown in communication wasn’t hard to imagine. And getting the letter itself out was enough of an emotional labor on her own end--it took so much energy to come to terms with and articulate those feelings, it already felt so raw and vulnerable that it didn’t occur to her that it sounded like a final goodbye. And when she was already dodging watchlists from Volskaya and various other criminal organizations... why would she expect Pharah to be able to track her down, when Helix literally had wanted posters of the Shrike?
Another bitter laugh, more out of discomfort than any humor, shook Pharah’s voice. “You were in Giza. You had no problem tracking down dirtbags like Hakim, but I had an address. I had an apartment. You could have seen me at any time. You could have had a bed.”
“I would have compromised your work with Helix,” Ana managed, remembering her Shrike mask on wanted posters.
“No one would know! No one saw your actual face!” said Pharah, “You saw Angela. But not me. What does that tell me?”
Ana’s mouth was hanging open, her jaw shaking a little with no words coming out of her throat.
“Angela told you about that?” said Ana quietly.
“Before she left,” said Pharah, “She stayed long enough to see me back from Vancouver and make sure things were stabilized after the Talon attack, but she was already packing up.”
“Did you two talk often, when she was doing her relief work there?” said Ana, not necessarily trying to derail the conversation, but willing to take a bit more context as relief from Pharah’s barrage. She knew Angela had no small amount of resentments toward her as well, especially with the biotic rifle.
“She butted heads with me and my coworkers when Helix had to investigate a lead at the refugee camp,” Pharah huffed, “Tried to patch things up later, but we didn’t talk much after that.” Too painful a reminder of everything you blocked me from, thought Pharah, Too resentful of you and the organization herself, but playing diplomat for my sake. Giving me crap about you being proud of me when everything I accomplished was in spite of your efforts. She didn’t know you and she doesn’t know me. Pharah decided to leave out the part where seeing Mercy’s apartment also left too much of an uncomfortable association with Ana. A more academic version of Ana, but all the trauma and still-unpacked boxes all the same. Someone ready to flit off to the next big problem in the world if it meant not having to open up those boxes. Pharah was already tired. She was already so tired of saying all these things that had been percolating in her for years. “...for what it’s worth,” she managed to dredge the words up out of herself, “I’m glad she let me know you were there.”
“So you could further justify your grievances?” said Ana, already weary.
“...so I knew you weren’t dead,” said Pharah. Ana’s lips tightened. She kept forgetting that. Kept forgetting that Fareeha had fought her own battles, that the months of silence between them were filled with unsureness for Ana’s own safety, especially after a letter that told Fareeha that she was still fighting. She thought Fareeha’s resentment had shielded her from the pain and worry of their separation, but it didn’t. It only deepened that pain with anger and guilt. They both fought to relieve guilt over fighting. A serpent eating its own tail.
Ana glanced off. “With... with Hakim I didn’t want to put you in danger.”
“Mum,” Pharah pressed her fingertips to her forehead, “I was in special forces. I could handle it.”
Ana’s lips thinned. “I don’t think of you as a soldier. I think of you as my daughter. I never wanted you to see my fights as yours.”
“I know,” Pharah said quietly, “But... when you’re young, and your mom is off fighting, it’s... very easy to assume, ‘Oh, if I fight too, maybe I’ll see her.’ And being blocked from joining Overwatch... I couldn’t not take that personally.”
“I know we’ve gone through this before but... I didn’t trust myself or other members of the old strike team not to engage in nepotism--we did practically all raise you,” said Ana, “And I couldn’t stand the idea of you getting hurt, whether under my orders, or any of theirs.”
“I figured,” said Pharah.
“But you’re here now,” said Ana, “And... you’re brilliant. I haven’t been here long, but I can see that this is who you’re meant to be.”
“And I’m glad I managed to develop those skills outside Overwatch,” said Pharah, “...I don’t know who I’d be if I had everyone fawning over me, over who my mom is.”
“And you didn’t go down with the ship,” said Ana with a wry smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.
Pharah chuckled and scoffed a little. “But even back in Helix they still talked about you. It was easier... when I thought you were gone...” her voice got misty, “And I hate that. When you were gone, I just got to remember all of the good things, how much of a hero you were, but when you came back,” Pharah sucked a breath in through her teeth, “Everything you ever did that hurt me came bubbling up. I didn’t want to give you the luxury of being something you could pluck off the shelf and dust off and forgive yourself with.”
Ana winced a little at this. “And you didn’t,” she managed, her own voice clouding up.
“But... I don’t know how much more I could hurt you than you’ve already hurt yourself,” her lips tightened, “I love you, Mum. And loving you is so hard sometimes, because you give so much of yourself away that I never know what I’ll have left,” her breath hitched, her voice cracking a little, “And I wonder, sometimes, how many more times I’ll lose you.”
Ana cupped a hand to the side of Pharah’s face and Pharah squeezed her eyes shut at the warmth of her palm, a tear budding out from her dark eyelashes and running briefly down the line of her wadjet tattoo. Ana put her other hand on Pharah’s shoulder and Pharah caught her wrist, wary. Strong. Of course she was. But then Pharah’s hand brushed up Ana’s arm and Pharah slumped into an embrace, fierce and tight, yet so tired from the weight of her own words.
“And I was so afraid of losing you,” Ana said quietly, “That I pushed you away. Further. And further. And further.” She brushed a hand down Pharah’s back. “You were never something to be plucked off a shelf... but... my own memory kept freezing you in time. There is so much I blinded myself to in trying to protect you. In fighting for you. I blinded myself to you. Shored myself up against your pain as if it was my own. And... I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that. But we’re fighting together now.” A sigh escaped her, “And as much as that terrifies me...” Her fingertips pressed hard against Pharah’s shoulder blade, “I’m even more scared of not having you in my life.”
“I said this wasn’t where we cry and hug and everything is good forever,” said Pharah, her voice creaking.
“Don’t worry, ḥabībti,” said Ana, stroking a hand down the back of Pharah’s hair, “We still have so, so many problems.” Pharah huffed out a half-sob half-chuckle against Ana’s headscarf, and Ana pressed her face into her shoulder. “But I am so proud of you. And I missed you so much.” said Ana softly.
“I missed you too,” said Pharah.
Ana brushed a finger along the gold of Pharah’s hair beads. She remembered braiding them into Pharah’s hair back when the Omnic Crisis first started, telling her that it was the light of the sun and the flesh of the gods and that they meant no matter how far away she was, she would always protect her. But now, in her own Fareeha’s arms, Ana realized she felt safer than she had ever felt in years.
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Color Coded AU
I originally wanted to write this out but I’ve been too tired to do anything these past few weeks. This is the fruit of writing down snippets during breaks throughout my internship.
Massive amounts of angst not just for Lance. Also, major character death that isn’t really one?
Also: this is long....
so, Lance dies after a mission gone wrong → even worse: he died just as they reached the medbay, breathing his last in Shiro’s arms and with Coran, Hunk and Pidge there to witness it
the team is devastated by the loss
Allura, Hunk and Pidge are out for blood, putting a lot of their time and effort looking for the lieutenant commander that impaled Lance
Keith seems more withdrawn, almost resigned in a way
Shiro is eaten up by guilt, and Coran is sure that a part of him died along with Lance that day
Coran feels the loss heavily, but is determined to take care of the part of the team that is still alive
they all push through. Allura still pilots Blue, because the universe still needs Voltron
it’s about three months later that Coran starts to notice some very odd happenings in the Castle that seem to be related to one another
he finds hallways and common areas – even the private quarters – cleaned up more often. the ship’s log and computer reveal that cleaning bots are being activated more often than he had initially programmed. (he blames it on the algorithm adjusting over time)
room temperature is regulated more efficiently than ever, being just right whenever the team enters a common area, the training room, the bridge, etc. (Coran and both Pidge want to blame it on adjusting algorithms)
Pidge more than once complains about the power cutting out in the middle of the night cycle, and nothing she has tried has ever overridden the sudden shortage. she does find it interesting though that if she leaves immediately, the power is back on sooner the next quintant.
Keith swears that the doors to the training room are faulty because sometimes (usually after a mission) they refuse to open when he wants to train that same night cycle.
Hunk is convinced the kitchen has become sentient, because whenever he leaves it a mess and crashes in his room, he comes back to find it spotless, and all of the tools and ingredients put back in their right places
even Allura and Shiro were experiencing troubles, like the bridge suddenly going dark safe for the essentials or not even getting past the doors. yet the moment it is only Coran left (after shooing both Paladins off to bed), everything functions impeccably
As the frequency of these occurrences increase, Coran and everyone start to get suspicious, but running scans yields no results. They’re just glad that whatever the Castle’s algorithm has spawned is not out to harm them.
But they are all paying closer attention now, in case they have another ‘poisoned castle’ incident
life goes on, the battles continue but Lance is sorely missed, and Coran thinks more than once that they could use one of the boy’s jokes to lighten the increasingly strained mood
One evening, Coran gets pinged by the Castle, telling him Pidge hasn’t moved from the common room in a few vargas, so it’s safe to assume she fell asleep.
he was too tired to consider the message itself suspicious
but once he gets to his destination he is very much awake. and too shocked for words
because, yeah, that is Pidge lying right there on the couch, out cold, but what has Coran staring is not the human girl but the AI pretending to card through her hair
because the is Lance sitting next to her – or his AI at least – staring at her fondly before looking up at Coran.
since Coran’s vocal cords refuse to work, Lance begins rambling self-consciously, saying that Pidge overdid it again and that she really needs to sleep more, etc.
but then Coran makes his way over with trembling legs, kneeling in front of Lance so that they are on the same eye level.
Lance immediately shuts up once Coran spills out the words he had wanted to say ever since that day a few months ago
and before they know it, they are both crying (although all of these things like emotions are now very different for Lance but that is something for another conversation)
Lance apologizes as well, for having kept hidden, because he wanted to spare them any more grief
he also reveals to Coran why he decided to contact him now, showing him his glitching hands
he hadn’t known that AIs required constant maintenance and debugging if in uninterrupted use, and so he needs Coran to help fix him if he wants to further assist in this war
of course Coran, even if it pains him to see Lance this way, agrees .but he has failed him once and he will never do it again
that same night (after having put Pidge to bed first at Lance’s insistence), Coran fixes the issues and talks to Lance about his decision to stay hidden
they are not having a full-blown argument, but Coran does not think that hiding like this will do them any good in the long run
what if Coran is out of commission and cannot help? what if Lance’s AI becomes corrupted or distorted beyond his ken? what if he requires assistance from Hunk or Pidge to fix it?
but Lance stands firm on his wish to let the others grieve and get over it. saying he’s sorry that he took that option from Coran, but he did not want to become like Alfor’s AI
and Coran understands, he really does, but he is not sure that it is the right decision
they keep it under wraps, Coran feeling horrible for lying about it to the Paladins – Shiro especially – and doing his best to spend time with Lance’s AI
because the strange thing is that, while working almost alike, Lance’s AI does seem more refined than Alfor’s in how he acts and processes everything around him
Coran wonders why that is. Lance shrugs, saying he has no idea. he just made sure to do the upload on a regular basis – like Pidge had explained to him, which she in turn had learned from Coran
they leave that mystery be for now. also because Coran cannot process that Lance did this all along. like he was preparing for the eventuality. and it hurts that Lance even had to consider it.
and Coran becomes painfully aware just how lonely Lance must have been in his self-imposed exile, listening to Coran as he hangs out with him while cleaning the lower floors and inner systems where the others rarely venture
and Lance slowly lets out how much he wished he hadn’t put them through this, how strange it is to not be human anymore, because being an intangible projection/algorithm is so different from being a flesh and blood human
there are a few close calls, like that one time when all the Paladins were in the midst of battle and the Castle got infiltrated, only for the intruders to be struck down by training bots
Coran tries hard to convince everyone that he activated the bots, but he is so thankful Lance took the initiative, because he isn’t sure he could have managed both providing cover fire for the Paladins AND stop the Galras to reach him on the bridge
another time, Lance goes rogue on the canons when Keith and the Red Lion are downed by an ion canon
the aggressiveness behind those shots is a lot harder to explain away but Lance will do it again in heartbeat if necessary
their whole secrecy flies out of the window though when the Castle itself is hit and seeing where it hit Coran’s first reaction is crying out Lance’s name in utter terror, carrying over the comms
Lance is as fine as he can be in the situation, since he was smart enough to leave a back-up of his data in another part of the systems just in case
the debriefing after the hasty retreat is painful, mentally and emotionally
because, while everyone is just as shocked as Coran was when he found out, they are hurt. both by the fact that Lance decided to shut them out, and because Coran played along for many months
Allura takes Coran’s decision the hardest
Hunk and Pidge feel betrayed that Lance would think they could not handle seeing him again
Keith, seems unable to uncross his arms as he takes the AI in, his face giving nothing away
Shiro looks like he will need at least one night to process it, seeing Lance’s AI which had been with them all along
Lance softens the blow a little by explaining why he had been doing, and to know that despite this being an AI, he kept this kindness and supportiveness they had started appreciating - Lance is still Lance, even if he isn’t entirely
still Lance will have a talk in private, both with Shiro and Allura, telling the former he never blamed him and the latter that he is proud how far she has come with Blue
there are tears. so many tears. and more relief than both leaders can bear at that moment. but it feels like they can finally breathe again
Hunk and Pidge are seeking Lance out a lot, at least, once they’ve both cooled down, asking all sorts of questions and figuring out how to circumvent the issues with Lance’s debugging and making sure that he has external back-up (Blue)
Keith, while first reluctant to interact with Lance, soon has to face him, since Lance intrudes on the training bots (hearing his voice come out of the speakers of the faceless bots is rather disconcerting) but the more time they spend together, the more Keith starts to familiarize with Lance again
still have a long way to go though, because Keith does not want to get his hopes up again. he doesn’t think he can handle another loss, even that of an AI
This is all for now, might add some more later.
#vld#voltron#color coded au#angst#character death#lance#coran#shiro#allura#hunk#pidge#keith#basically my brain latched onto that comment from s1 and would. not. let. go.
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JBL | Character Analysis - Ha Moon Soo
The following started out as part of a post on the way in which grief and loss are dealt with in the drama at large, but it got so long that I’ve decided to section Kang Doo’s and Moon Soo’s off as separate posts. What follows is an analysis of Moon Soo, particularly in terms of how she reacts to her tragedy and her emotional journey over the course of the story.
Even if we’re family we can’t feel the same emotions. It’s just…I can only imagine that, more than my sadness at having lost my younger sister, mom’s sadness at having lost her child must be greater.
I’m not a good kid. I have a huge plate on the back of my head. You couldn’t tell earlier, huh? They say I was hurt when the accident happened, but I don’t remember. All I remember is…that I left my sister there alone…that because of me, there was yet another person who never returned. But here I am living normally and well all by myself. I was bad, wasn’t I?
When we first meet Moon Soo, she appears well-adjusted, self-contained, and mature. This is no accident - it’s something that she consciously works at. In the aftermath of the collapse, Moon Soo’s parents’ marriage fell apart as each blamed the other for Yeon Soo’s death. When the fighting got too severe, her father left the house, leaving Moon Soo alone to assume responsibility for her mother, who had turned to alcohol to drown her pain.
Moon Soo is strong because she needed to be strong. She is also uncommonly kind. As in the above quote, Moon Soo feels that her mother’s pain must somehow be greater than her own. While it’s true that no two people experience the same tragedy the same way, that doesn’t mean that one person’s pain is more or less valid - they’re simply different. But Moon Soo minimizes her own pain by comparing it to her mother’s, thereby dismissing her own grief as comparatively less. ‘If I’m sad, it will only make things harder for mom.’ So she hides her pain, even from herself. As it says in her character profile:
Moon Soo is also sad and in pain. It’s simply that she’s lost the chance to be sad. But instead of showing her true feelings, Moon Soo bravely continues about her daily life. That was Moon Soo’s method of coping with her sadness.
Moon Soo also struggles with self-loathing and survivor’s guilt. She blames herself for leaving her sister behind, and for calling Sung Jae to the accident site that day. Perhaps even more than Yeon Soo, Moon Soo feels responsible for Sung Jae’s death, because if it weren’t for her, he would never have been there in the first place. Later on in the story, when she learns of her past with Kang Doo, she blames herself for what happened to him as well. This is all due to a combination of her personality and the way she’s processed the accident.
Why on earth did the accident happen on that day, at that time, at that place? No matter how she thought about it she couldn’t understand, so it was easier to shift the blame to herself. Why on earth was ‘I’ at that place, on that day?
In the aftermath of a tragedy, people try to make sense of things, to find reason in the random, when often there is none. We look for a cause, for someone to blame, for something to point to and say ‘if not for that.’ Moon Soo’s parents blamed each other. Moon Soo blamed herself. As a result, she lived her life in self-imposed penance. One way this manifests is in her work. Moon Soo became an architect out of guilt. It was only later that she came to genuinely like her profession. She had other dreams, but she gave them up.
Moon Soo remembers that afternoon. The wind that blew and the rattling glass, the building that collapsed in an instant, she remembers them. After the accident Moon Soo came to a decision. In exchange for having survived, to not be greedy, to not be swayed by trivial emotions. She simply wished for time to pass, for her to live according to her lot in life, without being noticed.
This is the context in which she meets (or is reunited with) Kang Doo, and at first, he’s an uncomfortable existence for her. At first glance, he is her exact opposite: he’s reckless, he does as he pleases, and he talks as if he cares for no one but himself. It takes time before Moon Soo comes to realize that, in fact, he seems to care for everyone but himself (I’ll do a separate analysis for Kang Doo next). But as much as he bothers her, she also recognizes some part of herself in him. Though she can’t remember, they were in the same accident together, and she senses the same sadness from him. What’s more, he keeps seeing her at her worst and drawing out her true emotions that she’s worked so hard to suppress. Though she initially finds this dynamic awkward and unsettling, it soon becomes a breath of fresh air for her, and the two fall into an easy and genuine friendship. As they grow closer, Kang Doo teaches her to express her emotions instead of always keeping everything bottled up inside.
Moon Soo’s character arc, then, is in some respects the reverse of Kang Doo’s, because, for her, the first step towards healing is to admit that she’s not okay. She may appear to start out well-balanced and then devolve in response to certain incidents and revelations, but it’s mostly that she’s finally learning to face everything she’s not allowed herself to feel for the past 12 years.
So when Moon Soo gets into an explosive fight with her mother, I can’t help but feel that the timing is no coincidence. Yes, part of it is that Moon Soo’s mother discovers that she’s been working at the accident site and feels betrayed, but what’s significant is that, for the first time, Moon Soo fights back. Up until this point, Moon Soo has always held back, suffering in silence, hiding her hurt all the while. What I find most painful about Moon Soo’s relationship with her mother is that, essentially, she’s emotional collateral. Not only is she unable to express her own grief and sorrow, she has to bear up under her mother’s resentment of her father, her apparent favoritism towards Yeon Soo, and the fact that her mother perceives Moon Soo’s stoicism as callousness. And Moon Soo lets her, in order to protect her from the added pain of Moon Soo’s own hurt.
Moon Soo was 15 at the time of the accident. What she needed most was a mother to comfort her and tell her ‘it’s okay.’ Instead, she had no choice but to assume that role, and in doing so, she not only lost a parent, she was also now responsible for another person who was dependent on her being the ‘strong one.’ With her father emotionally and physically absent, and her mother emotionally volatile, Moon Soo bravely assumed the role of caretaker, and part of that meant that she had to be ‘okay’ for them both. It would have been so easy to become resentful, but she isn’t. After yelling at her mother, Moon Soo feels apologetic, like she’s gone too far, said too much. Because she loves her mother and sympathizes with her pain, and because in between the rough spots, she’s still the same loving mother that she always has been.
Which brings me back to the timing of the fight. To my sense, the reason Moon Soo finally finds her voice when she does is that, for the first time, she has someone to whom she can fall apart and take comfort in - Kang Doo. It’s only after she begins her relationship with Kang Doo that Moon Soo allows herself to fall apart, to fight back, and to confront her fears and guilt by asking him to come with her to see Sung Jae’s mom. Kang Doo becomes her safe place, and it’s through his help and his love that she begins to truly be okay, instead of just appearing so on the outside. Kang Doo accepts her as she is. He tells her it’s not her fault, that she’s not a bad person for being the only one to survive. He understands her sadness because he shares it, and he knows how important it is for her to confront her pain in order for her to heal. It’s why he asks Joo Won to leave the memorial project in her hands, and it’s why he insists on seeing it through with her to the very end, even as he’s sick and in danger of dying.
One of the many wonderful things about Kang Doo is how he shows Moon Soo, in word and in deed, again and again, that she’s a good person, that she’s smart, and capable, and pretty, when she thinks of herself as somehow ‘less’ in comparison to Yeon Soo, and not a good person. He never holds back, partly because he’s a very straightforward person, and partly because he senses how important it is for her to hear it. When Moon Soo tells him that she’s ‘bad,’ he doesn’t answer reflexively. True to character, he thinks it over until it’s true in his heart, and when he tells her ‘no,’ he means it. When she confesses that she hates herself, he tells her, ‘Then I’ll just have to like you more.’ When she worries she was out of line with her mother, he reassures her that it’s okay to throw a fuss every once in a while - that her feelings are valid and important.
In terms of Moon Soo’s emotional journey, if there was one thing I would have liked to see, it was Moon Soo overcoming her guilt and self-loathing and choosing to stay by Kang Doo’s side not because he was dying, but because she had come to understand that what happened truly wasn’t her fault. There’s a big difference between knowing something logically and believing it in your heart, but accepting that logic is an important first step. I’d like to think that that’s what she spent that night in the hospital struggling with as she waited for him to wake up after collapsing in front of her house.
We may not have gotten to see that resolution, and Moon Soo may not yet believe it in her heart, but we do see her resolve in the wake of it. Though she’s devastated for Kang Doo, she doesn’t give in to that devastation, choosing instead to live each day with him to the fullest while they still can. They complete the memorial, date, and spend the night together. She stays by his side up until what may well have been the end. Ten months pass.
When we catch up with Moon Soo the following winter, we see her visiting her mother in rehab, exchanging messages with her father, and eating ice cream (hee ^ ^). It’s true that their family will never be the same again. The loss of Yeon Soo broke something fundamental, but they still have and love each other. That healing process will take a while yet, and it will never be complete, but the drama gives us hope that they’re headed in the right direction.
What’s more, we get a visual callback to the first time we saw her out front of San Ho Jang in episode 1, and this time, she smiles. The final sequence, with her and Kang Doo together on the roof, is so important because it leaves us with the sense that they’re happy, and that they’ll have the rest of their lives together in which they can enjoy ‘nothing-special’ moments. That doesn’t mean that their grief is magically erased and that all the wounds of the past are healed, but it does mean that, when that grief finds them again, they’ll each have the other to help them through it. As Halmeom tells Kang Doo:
Sad and painful things are always with us. You have to accept them. Instead, meet even better people and live even more fully. You can do that. Don’t worry.
And they do.
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Fallout 4 Headcanons
Because I’m addicted to Fallout 4 (again), here’s some companion headcanons no one asked for:
MacCready:
Despite the shit he talks about Sole doing it, MacCready also tends to pick up ‘junk’, though not in the amounts Sole tends to. He especially likes to find things to send home to Duncan.
Gets flustered and embarrassed whenever he’s called ‘Bobby’, “Robby”, or any other variations of his first name.
Tired of being called ‘Mac and Cheese’ and similar, but grows more fond of it the more he likes Sole.
Sneezes violently, has smacked his head into things while doing so.
Easily jealous, even platonically. Denies it, but sulks when left out of things.
Hancock:
Would never admit it, but it lowkey bugs him when people crack their joints - especially if it’s their spine.
Gets a crush on Sole the moment he meets them, regardless as to whether or not he’s romanced. If they turn out to have radically opposing beliefs (i.e. very serious BoS soldier that hates Ghouls) he sometimes lies awake at night wondering what their relationship would be like if things were different.
Asks Sole really existential questions right before they fall asleep, then dismisses it himself and falls asleep immediately. Sole usually ends up staying up an extra hour or two working through it themselves.
Nick:
Tends to leave little marks on walls whenever he and Sole go into particularly labyrinthine buildings or tunnels. Thinks that with Sole having faced so many hardships, it’d be a shame for them to die to their short attention span.
Likes to take quiet moments to watch the sunset/rise, or large vistas, or people enjoying life.
Remembers when a lot of the people in Diamond City were kids, gets a little sad when he sees some of them have grown up to hate or distrust synths.
Deacon:
Is actually the one who left most of the railsigns across the Commonwealth, but only barely peeked inside any of the locations they marked. Talks about them so much because he was always hoping they’d get more popular.
Likes to assign Sole random names whenever he’s the one that has to talk to strangers. Sometimes drops to one knee to dramatically propose to them as a distraction - especially if they don’t like him.
Can’t lie with his eyes, thus the shades. Especially bad at not smiling with his eyes even when he can keep the rest of his face straight.
Lowkey offended Hancock doesn’t like him, even though he doesn’t either.
Likes to make up stories about people in his head. Is especially good at lying because he’s already constantly telling himself stories.
Constantly worries Sole is going to change their mind and ditch him/the Railroad, worries it’ll be all his fault if they do.
Danse:
Snores. Denies it.
Even after Blind Betrayal, tends to snap to attention when addressed. Still calls himself ‘Paladin Danse’ out of habit, then flinches.
Frets about Sole a lot. Chews them out if they don’t come back when they said they would, generally assumes they died to something ridiculous.
Loves dogs. Loves cats. Loves animals in general. Always feels a little bad when putting down mongrels, tells himself he’s putting them out of their misery.
Before Blind Betrayal, always assumed it was the guilt keeping him up at night. After Blind Betrayal, wonders if the original Danse was ever real and if so, if they’d be proud of what he did with their life.
Porter Gage:
Kitten sneezes. Hates it.
Kind of resigned to the fact that Sole will one day betray him, increasingly concerned and confused if they don’t.
Bad at making himself sleep, even when he needs to. Tends to stay up for days, gets particularly grouchy.
Used to have really, really bad aim, put a lot of work into improving it.
Keeps an ear out for information about his old boss Connor, isn’t sure if he wants to hear if and how he died or not.
Gives Sole little tests to see how observant they are (i.e. selling them back the gear they have him holding).
Ridiculously light sleeper. Gets up to check doors, corners, locks, etc a lot.
Preston:
Sleeps like a rock. Tends to overwork himself and falls asleep leaning on Sole, walls, etc.
Still blames himself for the refugees lost to ferals at Lexington.
Really likes gardening, gets attached to the plants. Likes to give them really specific reassurances about his own insecurities (i.e. “Don’t worry, little guy. They like you just as much as they say they do.”, “Sometimes bad things happen, and you can’t help as much as you want to. The best thing you can do is keep growing so that you can help more next time.”, etc )
Codsworth:
Was different than the other Mister Handys from the beginning, but didn’t think anything of it until he saw how the others behaved after the war.
Has spent the last 210 years coming up with jokes to tell himself, then quietly, sadly laughing at them.
Sometimes nestled into his box inside the house to ‘rest’/mope about the state of the house and its occupants. Doesn’t do this after Sole comes back, is embarrassed by it. Probably makes elaborate forts with synth!Shaun if in the same settlement.
Tried to take out the trash after the bomb dropped. It fell apart.
Can also develop a crush on Sole, but never really entertains the idea.
Does not consider getting transferred into a synth body for hygiene concerns alone.
Cait:
Defensively gets her hackles up whenever meeting someone that reminds her of her parents. Doesn’t notice, gets angrier when it’s pointed out, is upset they still have that much of an effect on who she is today.
Is a bit of a hopeless romantic.
Has secretly always wanted to be a pirate or a superhero.
Soft spot for kids, especially ones in bad situations.
Piper:
Sometimes forgets her pencil/pen is tucked behind her ear, checks all her pockets, accuses Deacon and Hancock of filching it. Deacon is delighted by the word ‘filch’, plays suspiciously innocent even when he had nothing to do with it.
Warns Nat away from eating too many sweets, even while eating them herself.
Has a huge crush on Magnolia, loves listening to people sing.
Easily annoyed by repetitive questions.
Loves comics, especially The Silver Shroud.
Loves to gossip with Nick, has embarked on a few jobs with him. Used to follow him around a lot as a kid.
Dogmeat:
Is probably actually, legitimately immortal. Maybe a product of some abandoned Institute project?
Has been caught trying to crawl through cat doors. Does not fit.
Systematically begs everyone in a settlement for food and treats, takes note of which softies will feed him even if they know he’d already gotten some (Danse, Preston, Cait, Porter).
X6-88:
Denies the destruction of the Institute because he’d rather pretend nothing has changed than face figuring out who he is without them.
Is aware of a lot more rogue synths than he lets on, but doesn’t report them unless they become a problem or he is assigned to bring them back.
Was really, really good at the all-robots sporting event the Institute used to have. Was too competitive.
Has tried ‘sleep’ a few times, always awakens from what he can only determine is corruption of old data. After all, there’s no way he’d be able to remember if he was once reclaimed…Right?
Would not care to know who he was before if he had been previously reclaimed and wiped.
Curie:
Loves slapstick humor, is also incredibly guilty about it.
Also loves most of the other companions whole-heartedly. Is kind of a mom. Tries to brush Cait’s hair, chastises MacCready for eating too many sweets, gives Danse advice for cutting down on his snoring, asked Gage if he wanted her to check his other eye for infection, etc. Most of the companions don’t know how to deal with this.
Is actually very good at painting.
Bonus
Maxson:
Once stubbed his toe on a table, then made a half-hearted, completely stoic joke about declaring war on tables. No one was sure if it was a joke, so they just stared at him. He still cringes when he thinks about it.
Desdemona:
Loves warm clothes, especially scarves. Wishes she had more. Will never mention it.
Really misses the leader of the Railroad that came before her. Wishes she could still rely on their guidance.
Is very sad when she finds out Elder Maxson’s age, has to try her best not to think of him as a kid in a very unfortunate position.
Hasn’t understood any of Deacon’s Othello jokes, just gives him a tired stare when he makes them.
'Father’:
Uploaded a copy of his 'current’ consciousness to synth Shaun, thus the synth’s odd manner of speaking and choice of subjects - and his odd dialogue when escaping the Insitute.
Very good at sudoku, very bad at wordcross puzzles.
Had to work through some abandonment issues as a teen and young adult, though he knew his parents didn’t leave him on purpose. Can still feel those emotions if he thinks about it, but tells himself he has developed a detachment to it. Is lying to himself.
#fallout 4#headcanons#fallout 4 headcanons#is it obvious i always go railroad because i do#no longfellow or strong because i have yet to travel with them#preston garvey#paladin danse#robert joseph maccready#nick valentine#piper wright#deacon#desdemona#elder maxson#fallout 4 spoilers#curie#x6-88#dogmeat#hancock#codsworth#cait#porter gage#what else do i even tag this with#fallout#long post#text#added a read more and reformatted#im gonna fight tumblr mobile#why does this formatting not work help me#why did some of these center auugh
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Hungover - Part 2
Pairing: Bruce Banner x Reader
Summary: Reader is a scientist that comes to work for G-Tech, and is tasked with fixing the Bruce slash Hulk divide. Can it be done?
Word Count: 2089
Warnings: Mentions of why the Hulk was created (very subtle), Nat being Nat. Awkward scientists.
Author’s Note: Done for the fabulous’s @anaboo96 ‘s 1k writing challenge. Congrats, boo.
Parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /
Now would be the fun part. You were pretty sure that built into the Shelter in Place protocol was a door lock feature. And if the door from your lab into the hallway was locked, then you'd be doing something else incredibly dumb to meet the other half of your patient.
You reached a hand for the doorknob, almost hesitant to try it. But it turned and the door opens out into the hallway. You peek your head quickly around the corner surveying the hallway. When you determine its safe, you step out into the hallway and close the door behind you.
The hallway is quiet, a deadly calm quiet, now that the alarms have turned off. You have to consciously slow your steps so they don't echo down the hallway. You expected to step out into demolition, and this eerie silence is grating your nerves more than the prospect of having to dodge portions of the Tower.
There's a rumbling, scraping noise that sounds like awkward footsteps.The noise continues, getting louder as the Hulk scrambles into your view. He glares you down for a moment.
“You little doctor, one Banner want to ‘fix' Hulk.” Big hands move to form air quotes. You give the Hulk a soft smile.
“Yeah, that's me. But I don't think there's anything wrong with you, Big Guy. Can I call you Big Guy?” You ask, hoping that you can reason with the Hulk at least a little bit. The Hulk continues to glare you down, no doubt trying to discern if you're lying to him.
“No, only friends call Hulk that. You here to get rid of Hulk.” The Hulk growls at you, and that's when you realize this could easily turn into an issue if you don't choose your words carefully.
“That's what my job is. But that's not what I want to do. I don't know if Banner told you what I do. But I learn a lot of details from the kinds of scans I've been looking at. For instance, I know that you aren't just some big brute. You were created for a purpose, and from what I can see. You took the trauma well.” You tell the Hulk. He seems to stop, contemplating your words. From what you were able to extrapolate from the scans, the Hulk was the protector. The one that decided who was trustworthy or not. This interaction mattered.
“Hulk no trust little doctor.” He growls, and you take a slow calculated step forward.
“Okay, Hulk. I'll prove it to you. Can I ask for some tests though? I'd like to map your brain out, too. Because it's different from Banner’s. Can we do that?” You ask, reaching a hand toward one of the Hulk’s massive ones. He jerks his arm away from you.
“Hulk no trust.” He says again like he isn't sure you understood him. You hold your hands up.
“Okay, the ball is in your court. All up to you.” You tell him, and he gives you a rough nod. Before you can do anything else, someone is yelling at you.
“What are you doing out here? Code Green means disappear.” It's snapped at you, and you're almost surprised.
“Red, subsection C. Do your thing.” Tony snaps into what you have to assume are comms that he's got on.
The genius grabs you by the wrist and pulls you through the nearest door. He's glaring at you, and you're almost certain that you're going to be fired for your curiosity.
“I don't know who you think you are. But that was the stupidest thing anyone has ever done.” Tony says, well more like yells at you.
“Hulk won't even let me talk to him, and Banner and I are friends. You're just some newbie that thinks they're a hotshot. Well, hotshot, you could have been killed.” Tony says, and you wait for the next sentence. For the part where you lose your fantastic new job. Instead, the genius quirks an eyebrow at you.
“I'm sorry, I thought. I wanted to see him, ask him if I could get samples. Do a comparison and a full mapping. They're so different. I thought it would help the project Doctor Banner gave me.” You explain, wringing your hands.
“You asked the Hulk if you could get scans? Are you stupid or just incredibly ballsy?” He snapped at you, and you weren't sure if he was angry, disappointed, or wondering why he hadn't done that exact thing.
“It doesn't matter. That was stupid, and you're lucky I don't fire you.” Tony yells and then turns his head to the side. You think he's listening to the comms, but you can't be sure.
“FRIDAY, release the code green,” Tony says, and the building switches back into full capacity. He turns back to you.
“Don't do it again. Banner's infatuation with you will only save you once. Now scurry off.” Tony snaps at you, and you quickly duck out of the room and make your way back to your own lab.
The next few weeks, you keep your head down. Making sure to set alarms so that you can head out for lunch. It's not that you're avoiding Doctor Banner. It's just that you're not sure what he and the Hulk share. And you were here under the explicit instructions that you were to fix Bruce's issue. With your own personal opinion being the opposite.
It was the conflict that you were avoiding. Which you were almost certain that Doctor Banner was doing the same thing. You'd gotten the new tests that you asked for, but they had just shown up in your files. Apparently one of the assistants had run the actual scans.
If you got extra projects there was always a note on your bench at boot up time telling you about it. You hadn't seen the Doctor since before the code green. But someone was going to have to break eventually.
It'd been about a month since the code green, and you were making slow progress towards the original task. The project for which you had been hired. You would have really liked to have gotten those scans from the Hulk, but he'd made it abundantly clear he wasn't going to be playing any games with you.
You were in the middle of trying to work through a particularly puzzling area of Bruce's brain when you felt the hand on your shoulder. You look up to find yourself staring into the face of Natasha Romanoff.
“Relax. If I were here to kill you, I wouldn't have gotten your attention.” You think she's joking, you hope she's joking but you don't know her well enough to know.
“I'm here to give you the same kind of talk that I gave to Bruce. You need to stop being an idiot.” She says, and you quirk an eyebrow at her.
“Okay, so first. You thought it'd be a good idea to talk to Hulk when you've been tasked to get rid of him. Mistake number one. Then, you tell the Hulk that you're trustworthy and you'll prove it. By what? Avoiding both of them altogether. Mistake number two.” She says, and you drop your gaze. You knew you should have tried to reach out sometime last week, but you just weren't ready for this conflict yet.
“Now, mistake number three. Is the part where you're thinking that he won't forgive you. Because he will.” Natasha says, tapping her fingers against your lab table. The noise and the movement unnerves you.
“Why are you telling me this?” You ask, and for a second you think that Natasha might actually slap you.
“Geniuses are idiots about reading social cues.” She says. “And what that means is that both you and he have cute little crushes on each other.” She says.
“So, the two of you need to stop being idiots and talk this out. And soon, because Tony's hosting a little New Year's Eve event tomorrow. Everyone is to be in attendance.” She says, and with that news, she turns and sweeps out of the room.
You're left staring after her, and wondering what should be done. Obviously, you and Doctor Banner need to be at least on civil terms before this event. But she'd just upped the ante by reading body language.
You turn back to your work, more puzzled than you have ever been.
You were running some computer models, vaguely aware of movement through the hallways, and then there was a knock on the door that was accompanied by a flickering of the lights in the lab.
“Come in.” You call, without looking to see who it was. Your simulation was important, and you wanted to watch how it turned out.
“FRIDAY said that you were close to a breakthrough?” Bruce asks, and you have to resist the urge to jump.
“I think so. I'm just waiting for this last simulation to run.” You tell him, and you're probably doing more harm than good. Since none of your computer models turned out well in the end.
“In the meantime, we should talk.” You say, just as Bruce says. “Okay, but we need to talk.” Then you're stumbling over each other trying to defer to the other. A pink-cheeked Bruce finally turns to the side.
“FRIDAY, flip a coin.” He says, and you're left wondering if this is a normal thing between the Avengers.
“Doctor Banner, you go first,” FRIDAY says, and Bruce sighs.
“We're not the greatest with our emotions, and making connections. And I might have caused some tension because of what I asked of you. It was a lot, I know.” Bruce says.
“And I never asked you about your thoughts on the ethics of the project. And I am your boss, so you felt obligated to throw yourself into this project that you didn't even believe in.
I don't know why we code greened the other day, but I've had plenty of time to think about it. And it was probably for the best.
You can cease work on this project because what needs to happen is I need to get therapy and learn to accept that I am Bruce Banner and the Hulk. Which I believe you told him.” Bruce says, and your benchtop beeps that your simulation is complete.
“I did tell him that. Because you're a compassionate man, and if you and he can get along then all this guilt that you feel at yourself will ease.
And I don't mean to change the subject here. But I was working on it. And while the fundamentals are there. The practicality is not. I ran 6 different simulations, and they all end the same way.
There's no way to fix the Hulk problem. Because the Hulk isn't a problem. He's just a little more Id than Doctor Banner. But he can be taught and he can be reasoned with.” You say, gesturing towards yourself.
“I mean, look at me. He explicitly said he didn't trust me and yet that was all he did.” You finish, turning to flick the newest simulation results into a folder with the rest of them.
“I guess that this means that I'm no longer employed at G-tech?” You ask the only project that you'd been hired for was finished. You didn't think it made sense for this company to keep you on now.
“Don't be ridiculous. Just because we pursued you for this project doesn't mean that G-tech wouldn’t want to keep your particular skill set.” Bruce says.
“However, I will no longer be overseeing your projects. That'll fall to Dr. Dane.” Bruce says, and you look at him like he's an alien.
“Given some recent personal revelations, it would be unethical for me to remain as your boss. And since I was all but slapped and told to be direct. I'll try.
So, (Y/N), would you like to attend this Starkvent with me?” Bruce says, and when you just tilt your head a little he adds. “Like a date. Unless, well. I can't say that because Nat's never wrong and she would kill me. I'm sorry. I'll just leave.” He stutters, and you reach out and grab him by the arm.
“I would love to be your date, Bruce.” You say, and you can see him visibly relax, as a smile breaks across his face.
“Okay, I'll pick you up at 2.” He says, and you nod while giving him a bright smile.
Part 3
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In the Summer’s Heat
Hello! This story is written in some-what accompaniment with The Price of Heroism, as both are prequel works to my project With the Assist!
WARNINGS: Swearing (a lot of swearing), infidelity, gun mentions, child abuse, alcohol mention, high fever, runaway teenagers, and miscarriage mention.
Length: 7494 words
It hadn’t been a bad day at all. The weather wasn’t too shitty, even though it was kind of humid, and Andi managed to get through finals without wanting to blow her brains out. Her mother had been so excited about her ultrasound that she hadn’t started the morning out by falling victim to a long lecture that began somewhere along the lines of “Andrea Margherita Rossi Bianchi, you are nearly sixteen years old and have no excuse not to do your own dishes!” (Which she did, of course. There was a WNBA match she had to watch more than anything) Now with her parents gone and no homework to ignore, Andi had little to do but dirty up some more dishes and relax. The field hockey try-outs wouldn’t start up until August, which meant she was free to eat garbage and kick her feet up. Well, as long as her parents didn’t see.
With a shit-eating grin on her face, Andi spared no time getting into little more than a sports bra that didn’t smell like the asshole of an oversized chimp and a pair sweatpants that were arguably a size too big, but would cling to her hips if she tied the drawstring tight enough. She sat on the same, shit brown, overstuffed couch that her family had owned back when they had little more than a cramped two bedroom apartment when she was a kid. While Dad now made enough money that they could afford a way less shitty apartment and new furniture, for some reason he never wanted to part with the damn thing. She’d assumed there was a sentimental value in it somewhere, but she didn’t want to find out if it was in any sort of sexual way so she never asked.
As just was her luck, mere minutes after settling herself splayed out across the couch with a bag of off-brand potato chips and a bottle of water—sports top only—loud pounding filtered through the room from the door. She scowled, turning the volume up on the TV. Sure, there was no game on right now and the only thing interesting on were re-runs of movies and war documentaries she’d already seen half a million times, but there was no way in fucking hell she wanted to get up and answer it. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so no one should have been at the damn door. The pounding didn’t seem to receive her telepathic messages to shut the hell up and fuck off, so Andi finally pushed herself off the couch and stalked towards the door—which wasn’t really a far walk anyway, but she hated to do more than she had to.
She threw the door open, preparing her usual speech—no we’re not buying anything, we’re already Catholics, I don’t give a damn about your candidate, there’s a Ruger in the next room if you don’t go away already—but that flew from her mind as she had to catch a fist from smacking her straight in the face. Throwing the fist back, Andi hardly had time to pay any attention to the woman in front of her before she snapped.
“What the hell was that? Do you have fucking eyes?” She growled, swinging the door closed. The woman stuck her foot in the way before it could shut. She stared at Andi with wild eyes, like that of a wounded animal.
“Please, listen to me! Gabriel. I need to speak to Gabriel.”
Andi bristled at the mention of her father’s name. She didn’t want to know who the hell this crazy bitch was. Or why she knew her dad and where he lived. Why she would have the gall to come to their apartment and beg for him. Nothing good could come out of it and things were finally good. After the fighting and the miscarriage and Andi’s school problems, things were finally almost like a normal fucking family. She wasn’t going to give it up.
But she couldn’t help herself.
“And just who the hell are you?” The teen asked, neither opening nor closing the door any further. She hung on the doorframe, gripping it for dear life. She hadn’t really been able to recall a time she’d been afraid before now, hadn’t been able to recall a time where she sincerely sent a prayer to the man upstairs from her own free will.
“Jacklyn, it’s Jackie. Go get Gabriel, he knows who I am.” Her speech was panicked, each word slipping into the next as though each passing second were more urgent. “You need to get him for me.”
Andi wrinkled her nose, a familiar scent wafting off the woman’s breath.
“Ohmygod, are you wasted?” She gaped, eager to shut the door on this encounter. If she were just drunk, there couldn’t have been anything to it. Or at least anything that wouldn’t drive her crazy enough to want to stab her own goddamn eyes out. “You need to go. Take a cab or whatever, but you can’t be here. Leave me and my family alone.”
The woman burst into tears, reaching into her handbag. Andi could feel the sweat beading at her forehead, reaching her own hand back. She wished she had the foresight to bring the Ruger along with her, or hadn’t been a dumbass and would’ve closed the door already. Echoes of distant gunshot rang out in her memory, back when they had lived in a shittier neighborhood in a shittier town.
But rather than a weapon, the woman held up a creased and crumpled photo. A young girl grinned up at her, probably no more than four or five years old. She seemed just as annoyingly vivacious as any other kid her age—smiling as if there was nothing but rainbows and sunshine in the world, her hair hideously chopped off in sections likely by her own hand. She wore a bright yellow t-shirt sprinkled with black polka dots, which was miraculously unstained—probably newly put on.
“Please,” the woman begged, shoving the photo closer. “My daughter. Our daughter, Evie. She’s…she’s sick. My job isn’t covering the bills, but she needs help. I need money, I need, I need…He needs to…!”
The woman began sobbing, burying her face in her hands, words incomprehensible through hiccoughs. Andi stared, discomfort stuffed in every molecule of her body. She stepped back, staring at the woman broken down on her doorstep. Her daughter was seriously ill, and she was drunk and she was desperate. She had said our daughter after begging to see her father.
She couldn’t do this.
“You need to go…” Andi muttered, getting the woman’s attention. Her chest burned as she looked at the tearstains on the woman’s face. She repeated herself, more assured this time. “You need to go or I’m calling the cops. There’s no Gabriel here.”
She slammed the door closed, wincing as the harsh sound filled the room. Shame washed over her as she staggered back towards the couch. She was always an asshole, but this was a different sort of low. Staring blankly at the TV, she felt nothing but guilt gnawing at her insides.
For once, she was actually looking forward to her next confessional.
As the day wore on, Andi failed to push the scene out of her mind. Her usual distractors were useless. Food brought no taste. Her attention span was short lived, flipping from one channel to the next, one device to the next, one game to the next without interest. The sounds were nothing but static blur; the video not receiving in her mind as anything but a wash of dull color against some shitty, worn out canvas. She almost considered praying to pass the time and clear her conscience, but the words wouldn’t come.
She sat for an eternity, running her thumb along the edges of her rosary, the same thought coursing through her mind again and again. She needed to know the truth. She needed to know how and where and why. Her father had plenty of unappealing colors—ranging from the sickly yellow to the broken purple of a molting bruise— but she hadn’t expected this. At least, never on this level.
At some point, she locked herself in her bedroom, sinking into her mattress and staring at a tasteless popcorn ceiling. She stayed there, somewhere between sleep and consciousness, until she heard the front door slam closed. The miniscule bit of common sense warned her to stay inside, and forget the whole thing.
But, as usual, her impulse won out.
Andi crept into the hall, trying not to wince as she spotted her father rifling through a stack of mail. There was nothing different about him. He was in the same old band t-shirt and jeans he had left in earlier, and he still wore his near permanent scowl—something Andi herself had inherited. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps, nodding at her in acknowledgement.
“Did you see the sun today?” He asked rather than greeting. Andi knew she was being weird, especially when she only replied with an honest no rather than some roundabout joke or insult like usual. Her gaze washed over the room, although it looked the same as she had left it.
“Where’s Mom?” She asked, picking at the dirt underneath her fingernails. Her father looked up at her with a frown, trying to determine what was wrong.
“She went to pick up some groceries for dinner. Why? Is it a…” He waved his hand in the air as he searched for the word. “You know, a lady thing?”
“It’s a kind of lady thing. But not like a vagina thing, like, a person thing,” Andi mumbled. Her father quirked an eyebrow upwards, his expression an amalgam of disappointment and confusion.
“So you were serious about that dyke thing, then? What, you want dating tips from your old man instead? Your ma don’t know too much about snagging a woman the way I do. Sure, she is one, but wooing them is different.”
Andi tried not to snap that her bisexuality was not at all the same as being a butch lesbian, instead focusing on the fact that he had left her a perfect segue. She had to approach it calmly, and collect herself. She could handle her temper just this one time. She had done fairly well so far. Frankly, she deserved a damn prize for it.
“Yeah, well, I sure as hell know you can do that fuckin’ fine,” she sneered, gaze off to the ground. Her face slowly flushed as she realized she had only escalated an already difficult situation, but she couldn’t turn back now.
“Excuse me?” He gaped, folding his arms across his chest, no doubt giving his trademark disappointed glower. “You want to run that by me again, Andrea Margherita?”
Andi swallowed the reservation burning in her gut, trying to dismiss memories associated of having her ass handed to her as a child soon after that phrase. She was in high school, for Christ’s sake, and she had something important to say. She’d never sleep soundly again if she never addressed this, and if she didn’t bring it up now, there would be no time.
“A woman came by while you were gone,” Andi’s words were clipped as she spoke. She forced herself to stare her father in the eye, fire burning in her own. “Some Jessica or Jacklyn or something. She asked for you—by name—and said her—your— daughter needed more money. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, now would you, Dad?”
She didn’t need a word to know it was true. His jaw fell slack like a marionette’s, waiting for a puppeteer to provide him with a convincing act. His dark eyes were wide, as if he were free-falling off the crest of a cliff side with nothing to cling to and nothing to slow his descent. She blinked back the tears that burned in her eyes, disgust churning in her stomach. She wanted to say so much—how she hated him, how could he?, why hadn’t he just divorced her mother years ago?, how he managed to live with himself knowing he had another family on the side. She wanted to spit on his face and take her mother and never see him again for the rest of her life, but she couldn’t even find it in herself to say “fuck you.”
Her father recovered far faster. A stinging pain blossomed against Andi’s cheek, sending sparks in her vision. Closing the distance between them, he gripped onto her jaw, pushing her against the counter. His temper, much like hers, was short and explosive, but she had never seen him this livid. Veins throbbed from his neck as he gripped tighter until Andi whimpered from the pain. Fear fluttered through her chest as she found herself unable to look away from his face.
“You’re not gonna say a fucking word or your ass is out on the street. I’m not fucking around, I’m a hundred-fucking-percent serious. I’ve finally worked out a decent goddamn life for us, and you want to throw it away? It’s not going to happen. You’re almost out of school anyway, and your mother and I can start all over again. Your brother wouldn’t even have to know he isn’t the only one.” He growled down at her, inches from her face. Andi’s breath was ragged, but she refused to let herself cry. “Of course, if you tell her, he may not even turn out right. The stress can literally kill the bastard, or at least fuck him and your mother up. You don’t want to do that to her, especially after what happened the last time.”
Andi winced, a combination of the pain and the memory. She had been about five years old, but she hadn’t ever felt more alone in her life when it happened. She’d hardly understood what a pregnancy was, and she certainly didn’t understand where the baby had went and why her mother had been so sad. She spent the first few months of kindergarten just causing trouble because otherwise her mom hardly looked at her, and her dad spent time working late or going out drinking. Her household had always been broken, but it seemed all but irreparable then. It had seemed like a miracle that things had smoothed out now, and even more that her mother had finally conceived again.
If she ever learned about this…
Andi glared at her father through tears, clutching the hand that gripped onto her. He was right. The traitorous, cheating bastard he was. She couldn’t tell. She dug her nails into his hand, but he didn’t give any indication that he felt a thing. She choked on a sob, grinding her back molars.
“Fine. Let me go,” she demanded. “She won’t know. I promise, just let me—”
Andi didn’t finish her request before he released her jaw, slapping the side of her head. She followed the motion, trying not to let her neck get tweaked. She winced, but stepped out of his reach as soon as she could. She had never hated anyone so much and done nothing. By now, she would’ve gone apeshit on any other person, either making them bleed or bleeding herself. Glowering, she stalked her way towards her bedroom, which she had never been more thankful was in the back of the house where she could hardly hear anything.
“Not a damn word or else! You hear me?” Her father called after her. She slammed the door shut, the frame shaking as violently as she was. She turned the lock with no satisfaction. She looked around her bedroom, practically twitching with the urge to shatter or smash something. It had been nearly a year since she had been this angry—back when she had heard Officer Fakhoury had been sacked from the department—and the only way she handled that was by kicking the crap out of a punching bag at the gym for the next week. There was no way that she’d be able to live here and look at his face every day knowing he was nothing more than human garbage. She was never good at hiding her emotions, so her mother would know something was up. There was no way in hell that just running down to the church and confessing would get this off her mind.
Something snapped inside Andi. She dove for her backpack and dufflebag, shoving practically everything her eyes came in contact with. She didn’t have to stay here. Fuck him. He couldn’t threaten her like that. He didn’t get to hit her and leave her dangling like some bug caught in a web. She’d keep his stupid secret, but she was going to do it on her terms. It wasn’t like she hadn’t slipped out the fire escape a million times. It would be just a little permanent. She knew where plenty of women’s shelters were if she needed, thanks to a project she couldn’t have avoided even if she wanted to, and she was pretty sure she could just drop out of school soon enough and things would be fine.
Hell, she would have moved in with Officer Fakhoury if she wasn’t such a law-abiding tight ass who would probably just ship her right back home. Plus, she had hardly spoken to the woman since she was fired. She didn’t know what she was up to anymore, although she hadn’t really cared to ask, either, which made her feel like shit. At this point, it was a little too late to just shoot her a text and ask how things were after being turned into a scapegoat and having her face fucked up with burn scars. She sure hoped her husband was being supportive about it, or she’d have to kick his ass.
Andi did a quick once over of her things—a few pairs of clothes, a second pair of shoes, her wallet, a blanket, and snacks. She eyed her phone charger warily. She may have been impulsive, but she wasn’t dumb. They could track her phone and she’d be screwed. But she wasn’t sure what she’d really do without it. Sure, school was out for the summer, but people expected to keep in contact with her. And she sure as hell didn’t own a watch in this day and age. With resignation, she turned it off and shoved both it and the charger in the bag. She’d save it for emergencies. Snatching her laptop off the desk, she quickly tossed that inside as well. She’d use that first for contact. Twitter DMs worked just as well as a text ever did, and a Starbucks was never hard to find.
Throwing open the window, Andi hopped out without hesitation.
Fuck him. Fuck it all. He could pretend his sin didn’t exist; he could pretend nothing was wrong in their world and they were the happy little family they had always wanted to be.
There was no way in hell she was going to do it alongside him.
Days later, Andi stumbled through the city, head stuffed like an oversized pillow. Just her luck, her immune system had decided to take a vacation when she needed it most. She’d slept like shit, eaten like shit, and now she felt like shit. At least the slap in the face hadn’t left any long lasting mark—although the welt had been useful long enough that the shelter let her in without much question or proof. But being a minor, they wouldn’t let her stay past the first night. Some sort of legal issue, apparently. Andi thought it was bullshit. Plenty of kids went through far worse, and they needed a mother to stay, when half the time the mother was part of the problem?
God, she hated all adults.
She had spent the past few nights bouncing between different homeless shelters, no longer bothering to be honest. She was more than grateful for the fake ID she and her friends had made to sneak into an eighteen plus hard rock concert a few months before. Sure, her parents had found out and she had been in major trouble, but they never did manage to find and confiscate the ID. It’s not like she’d wanted to do anything that illegal, like binge drink until she was shit-faced stupid. She’d seen enough of her dad becoming a total dick after drinking that she didn’t want to try that in any lifetime.
She spent some time in the church they used to go to, back before her dad had some sort of petty-ass argument with some of the congregation. She only vaguely recalled what it was, since she spent half the sermons sleeping and the rest trying not to be mentally present. It had been especially fun when the local state vote for gay marriage was on the up and coming. Although, she didn’t expect much out of a bunch of Catholics. They were a bit more fire and brimstone and far less love thy neighbor in her experience. She knew that she was at least kind of welcome, and it felt weird to be constantly lying, have nowhere to go, and a million secrets without going to confession.
There were a lot of things she hated about church, but she did enjoy the catharsis of confession. She didn’t really think her sins were being forgiven, but she could at least purge what was weighing down on her. But she couldn’t spend all her time in church, nor did she want to. The Starbucks was a nice hangout, a clean bathroom, although she felt guilty not ordering anything. Things were so damn overpriced that it made her realize how much she really hated capitalism, too. And most isms. And everything. But she hated her father more than any of those things, so she’d shell out for a cake-pop or some tea. The public parks were nice, but loud and the library air conditioned, but stuck up. Not to mention she had late fees up the ass and no way did she intend on paying them now.
It was tempting, though. She was sweating like a pig, even though the sun had fallen below the cityscape, shrouding the streets in shadow. Her throat burned and ached from the inside out, as though she had spent the day sipping on Molotov cocktails instead of a Big Gulp. Sweat stuck to her forehead and the base of her neck, threatening to drip down her spine. She had pulled off her coat by now, but things weren’t any better. She would’ve sworn she was burning from the inside out if she hadn’t known any better.
Andi gripped onto her backpack, gritting her teeth as she trudged on. She couldn’t let it be obvious she was off her game. She may have been stupid enough to spend her day on the streets, but she sure as hell wasn’t dumb enough to spend the nights on them. There wouldn’t be a morning if she did. Or, if there was, it would be in a broken, bloody world she despised even more that before.
It was only a few more blocks, but with the streets swollen with traffic, she wouldn’t be able to make it back on time. She couldn’t spend the night on the street. She wouldn’t. And she wouldn’t crawl back home either.
Andi took in a breath, poised to make one of the stupidest fucking decisions of her life. Even going into it, she knew it was a shit plan. Turning the corner, she made a beeline for the alleyway.
It was dank and dark and smelled of boiled piss—which she had been expected but didn’t stop her from retching as she hurried along. Step after step, she told herself. She only needed to keep walking. She needed to. Sweat rolled down the side of her forehead, even though she wasn’t exerting herself any harder than before. Breath came out in burning huffs, dragon’s smoke spewing from her lungs. Andi’s legs shook, leaving her with staggered, drunken steps.
She brushed against the wall, arm hitting brick with loud scrape. She hissed in pain. It was just a stupid headcold. What was her issue? Her eyelids seared when she blinked, her vision freckled with black spots.
She was dying. She must have been fucking dying. Alone. In an alleyway. Like some stupid addict. Her legs gave out from underneath, liquid she didn’t want identified splashing at her face. Andi moaned from the pain and discomfort, pressing her lower body upward with what strength she still had.
“Someone…” she murmured, almost inaudible to her own ears. “I need help…” Molten tears pricked at her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. She sniffled, breath shuddering with a weak wheeze.
“Someone help me! Please!” She cried out in desperation. She wasn’t supposed to die this way. She wasn’t supposed to die this young. What a stupid, stupid bitch, getting herself into this mess. Loathing burned at her throat, mingling with the raw ache of her throat as she shouted. As she paused for a breath, she could make out the tail end of a sentence.
“…hear something?”
Relief dripped into Andi’s heart. Maybe there was a God out there on her side after all.
“Please,” she begged, a frail, meek sound that made her sick.
“Yo, man, you’ve gotta check that shit out. I said no fuckin’ witnesses, and I meant it.” A gruff voice hissed to no one she could see.
Oh God.
She wasn’t a witness, she wasn’t, she swore she wasn’t. She’d never say a word, anyway. No names, no faces, no details. She couldn’t snitch anyway because she couldn’t risk going to the police anyway. They’d send her back home. Andi curled into herself, squeezing her eyes shut. This had to be a nightmare. The whole endeavor was a nightmare. She’d wake up from this insane fever dream any minute now. She always woke up before anything bad actually happened.
Just in case, she prayed.
Thwak.
Andi winced, the sounds of skin smacking against skin a sound easily identified—between her household and the fights she used to get it, it was unmistakable. She held herself tighter, not wanting to find out what was going on. Her lungs burned as she tried to catch her breath, consciousness dizzy and distant with each passing second. Two deep grunts sounded the end of the encounter with some finality. She opened her eyes, willing herself to move. But she couldn’t even catch her breath.
A figure loomed over her, but the colors blurred together unrecognizably. Her vision had become no better than a kaleidoscope, simply suggesting some possibility of what might have been there. The dark spots exploded across the colors. Her heart only raced faster.
She heard one thing before she lost consciousness.
“Andrea?”
Andi moaned, shivering hard enough to send whatever was beside her rattling. Her body felt as though each and every cell had decided to step outside for a cigarette break after skinny-dipping in a bath of gasoline. Her mouth ached as though she had been gnawing on batteries and the acid had pooled against her cheeks. She tried to push herself up to view the world around her, despite the fact that she could hardly keep her eyes open.
A gentle touch pressed against her shoulder, icy and inviting against her burning skin.
“Stay down, Andi,” a familiar voice commanded. Her focus pulsed in and out as she tried to place a face to it. Someone strong, but comforting. Not a stranger, but not family. She squinted up, trying to see despite the searing pain. She could make out tawny skin, blotched and shriveled across the left side.
“Ah…Officer Fakh...?” Her voice fell away like the ashes of a cigarette. Nasira Fakhoury shushed her, laying a damp cloth across her forehead. It must have been the delirium, but Andi swore she heard it sizzle as it came into contact with her skin.
“I need you to listen to me right now and do what I tell you, do you understand me, Miss Bianchi?” Her voice didn’t hold the same bite that it had when she lectured Andi over her aggression and petulance. Even in her haze, Andi could detect the concern weaved between her words, seeping into her tone. Andi offered a weak noise of agreement. “You can make it through this, but you’ll have to trust me. You’ve caught something very dangerous, and if we can’t cool you down, you’ll burn from the inside out. You’re going to be very uncomfortable, but you’ve got to hold on. You’re a strong girl. I know you’ve got it in you.”
A wave of heat flushed through Andi’s body. She was going nuclear. She groaned, scraping at her skin in hopes of finding something to cool her down. She’d peel off her damn epidermis if she had to. She’d never been so hot in her life. Her blood must have been boiling.
“Omar is drawing an ice bath. I must warn you, the worst is yet to come. Let me help you stand.” Nasira lifted Andi, propping her up with a feather-light touch. If she was bothered by the heat radiating off her skin, she showed no sign. Andi winced, sluggishly falling forward with each step. She felt more like a sack of coals than a human person, heavy and awkward as she tried to move. “You’re a fighter, I know you are. You’ll be alright.”
Andi wasn’t particularly comforted, since all she could feel was heat and pain and heat and pain and heat. She preferred idea of dying in Officer Fakhoury’s apartment instead of on the street. She liked the woman better than her own mom half the time, and she definitely kicked way more ass. While her own mom gave birth to a college student’s baby in high school, Officer Fakhoury had been organizing a guard for her hijab-wearing peers. She had even confessed to Andi that she had even gotten into a few fights to protect the other girls. And now here she was, trying to protect Andi, too.
She was a hero. Andi wanted to die in the presence of a hero.
“’m glad i’s you…” Andi’s speech was slurred, her tongue and brain too exhausted to work together. Nasira pushed open the bathroom door, all but dragging the teen along behind her.
“Hey, keep talking to me, okay? I’m glad it was me, too. I’m not sure anyone else would know what to do with you…” She muttered the last sentence underneath her breath. “Can you take your clothes off yourself? Are you comfortable needing my help?”
Andi shrugged, her focus fading in and out. She pulled her top halfway over her head before stumbling backwards, only to be caught and righted by Nasira.
“Sorry,” she murmured, shirt muffling the sound of her voice. “Help...I guess.”
Nasira helped her undress, informing her of what she was doing before she did it and apologizing for each accidental scrape and brush. Andi may have been mortified in any other scenario, but she wanted to bury herself in the ice as fast as she could. Relief was immediate, cool ice melting instantaneously against her skin.
But it was temporary.
Despite the goosebumps that lined her skin like an army of tin soldiers, Andi was still hot. She thought she saw steam rise where flesh met water.
“You need to stay hydrated.” Nasira insisted as she filled a glass in the sink. “I know it’s hard, but drink, and drink slow. Think of it like when you’re competing. Keep it steady, and don’t rush yourself.”
Andi nodded, trying to ignore the roiling nausea in her gut. She wasn’t sure she could keep the water down, preferring the way it sat against her parched lips. She took a sip anyway, for Nasira’s sake. The droplets trickled down her throat without much effect, so she took another sip and another and another. The glass was about halfway empty before another heatwave wracked her body again. Her hands convulsed, blurry in her vision. She gripped onto the sides of the tub, trying to stop it, but to no avail.
This time, the heat didn’t pass. The burning remained. Andi whimpered, trying to slide herself deeper into the water. Maybe further down the water would be colder. Maybe if she submerged herself it could all just stop. It had to stop. She needed it to just stop.
Nasira grabbed her forearm, pulling her head away from the waterline. She pulled her own hand away, shaking it as if she had been burned, hissing underneath her breath.
“Andi, Andi, you have to listen to me. You have to stay level-headed. You’ll make it through this. I know it hurts. I know that this is one of the worst pains you’ve ever felt in your life, but you can make it through. If I did, you can.” She insisted, holding a steely gaze.
That piqued her interest, despite her lurid sense of focus. Andi looked at her the best that she could, attempting to dissect what she had said. Officer Fakhoury had been through the same thing. But what was this?
“’ficer…Wha’s happ’nin’?” She asked in a slurred whisper. Nasira reached for a small bowl, pouring water atop Andi’s head. Her scalp tingled and stung, accompanied by a raucous assortment of pops and fizzes.
“I can’t tell you for certain,” Nasira admitted. “I don’t know the cause, or the reason behind it. But what you’ve caught will change you if it doesn’t burn you to ash first.”
Burn her to ash? She really was melting, then. She wasn’t hallucinating—the popping and the hissing and the steam were real. She was burning from the inside out. She was going to die in this bathtub by literally catching on fire. Was this spontaneous human combustion?
Andi grew dizzy, unable to catch a full breath. She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t make herself stop. She couldn’t breathe. She was going to burst into flames, literal flames, if she ever left this tub. She scooped her hands into the water, splashing water against every piece of dry skin she could find, wincing as it popped back off of her. She couldn’t catch on fire if she was wet. She had learned that much in Chem.
“Andi, stop.” Nasira grabbed her wrist, snapping her out of her panic. “You’ll make it worse the more you move. You need to stay as still as you can. It only aggravates the condition. Right now, you’re all but a match. Too much friction and you’ll light up. I’m here. Talk to me. Tell me what you want, and I’ll make sure that you’re okay. I’m here for you.”
Tears boiled in Andi’s eyes, spilling over her cheeks when she blinked.
“I’m scared,” she admitted, hardly above a whisper. “I didn’t…I shouldn’t…God…” She hiccoughed, brushing the tears from her face, turning her head to the ceiling. She was so stupid and so weak. If she hadn’t left home, none of this would have happened. “O my God, I am heartfully sorry for having offended thee, and I detest all of my sins because of Thy just punishment…” She bit her tongue, trying to suppress sob building on her chest. “But most of all because I have offended Thee my God, Who is all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, why the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sin. Amen.”
Nasira stayed silent, filling the glass with water again. Andi felt some shame, knowing she probably would have felt uncomfortable if it were reversed, and she had someone dying in her bathtub rattling off prayers in Arabic. She silently handed her the glass, her gaze glazed over.
“I’m going to message Omar and tell him to bring more ice. It’ll be melted soon.” She scooped the bowl full of water, pouring it overtop her head. The hissing was quieter this time, more of a faint protest than a bold refusal to disappear. “Your temperature is declining but we’re far from in the clear. There can be heatwaves that come in after you’ve thought you’ve seen the worst of it.”
“I’m sorry…” Andi curled her shoulders inward. “I’m so stupid, I shouldn’t have ever—”
“Shh, shh,” Nasira interrupted. She brushed Andi’s damp bangs from across her forehead cleanly to the side. “Apologize later. I mean it. I’ve hear more apologies from you tonight than I’ve ever heard from you in years. You can save them for the morning. Relax. Drink.”
Andi sniffled, but did as she was told. She wasn’t convinced everything would be alright. But she trusted Nasira would do everything in her power to fix…whatever it was that was going on. She held onto that thought as her mind grew fuzzier and fuzzier, and her grip on the cup slackened.
Andi awoke with a sharp gasp, jolting forward. Sweat stuck to every damn crevice she knew she had and some she hadn’t explored before. She may as well have been caught outside in the rain. She certainly would have preferred pretending it was water instead. Her head felt like a sack of bricks as she held it in her hands.
Which were hot. And glowing like coals.
She must have still been dreaming.
The door creaked open, spilling enough light into the room to dim the glow. Andi stuffed her hands underneath her arms for safekeeping. Omar Fakhoury met her gaze, a bowl and washcloth in his hands. After a few moments, he smiled before turning back towards the door.
“Nasira darling! She’s awake for certain this time!” He called as he stepped out of the room. “I am glad to see you well,” he added with a nod to Andi before he closed the door.
She was in the Fakhoury’s apartment. Her head spun in circles, as though some playground bully wouldn’t stop slapping at the roundabout, trapping her inside. Pinching her brow between her thumb and forefinger, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember everything. She remembered running away, and she remembered passing out on the street. And then she’d woken up in her former mentor’s house. Been shoved in an ice bath that she managed to melt in mere minutes. Passed out again. And now she was here. In Officer Fakhoury’s house. Still.
“How are you feeling?” Nasira asked as she entered the room. She looked increasingly worse for the wear—her dark eyes bloodshot, still wearing the same wrinkled clothing Andi recalled seeing her in before. She probably hadn’t slept a wink, which made Andi feel like shit. Nasira had always been way too good to her.
“I don’t feel like I’m dying anymore.” Andi shrugged, staring at the sheets over her legs. “My throat hurts and I feel like I tried to win a staring contest with the sun and…what happened?”
Nasira sighed, sitting at the foot of the bed. Her shoulders slumped forward, but she reached for Andi’s hand. It no longer felt of ice in comparison.
“I don’t know where it comes from. Or why it infects who it does. But if my suspicions are right…” She hesitated, a rare fear coating her eyes. “Have you noticed anything different, Andrea? About yourself.”
“Well shit I’ve been awake for, like, five minutes, so, uh.” The glowing hands. “Why?”
Nasira’s grip tightened.
“If you do, please call me. You know I will always answer for you.” The smile she offered was soft, but pained. Andi’s face flushed with shame.
“I…I know,” she said. She should have called before. She should have talked to Nasira about everything that happened. “This shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t have had to do this. I should’ve been home.”
Nasira nodded, a signal for her to go on. She stroked her thumb across the back of Andi’s hand. She winced, wishing the shame would just go away on its own.
“I ran away.” Nasira’s eyes grew wide, but she withheld her thoughts. “I was just so pissed and so worried and so, so fucking pissed. I mean how could he—and then he! I should’ve hit him right damn back, but instead I thought I’d get even, you know? He’s gonna threaten me like that to keep his dirty little secret, then I’d just go and steal away any power he had over me.” Anger boiled in her chest as she recalled it all. He deserved a real punishment. The only person she had hurt was herself, maybe her mom. “I fucking hate him.”
Her heart pulsed. The bastard. Absolute bastard. She wanted to burn his world to nothing but ash.
Heat prickled up her arms, dozens of white hot needles pressing themselves against her skin. She ignored it, grinding her teeth at the thought of her father. He deserved so much worse than he had. It wasn’t fair. She should have shown him. She would show him.
“Andi, stop!” Nasira shouted, yanking the girl’s arms up. Andi jolted back in surprise, eyes narrowed, ready to tell her off when she saw the flames. Her arms were engulfed in crimson fire, and Nasira just held onto her like it was nothing.
Andi stammered, trying to find any words to express how she felt, but she couldn’t quite land on a single thought. She was on fire. She was literally on fire. Panic bubbled in her chest. She was one of them now, wasn’t she? As if being a gay delinquent wasn’t enough of a reason for people to look at her twice.
“It’s changed you the same way it’s changed me,” Nasira confessed. “You don’t have to—”
“Is that why you were in that alley?” Andi blurted out. “You’re the vigilante, the one from the news. Aren’t you?”
The fire extinguished itself as suddenly as it started. Nasira let out a heavy sigh before nodding.
“I’m trying to align myself with P.E.A.C.E., but in the meantime, yes. I don’t want you to do as I’ve done, Andi. The power we have is dangerous, but it can be controlled. If you let me, I can teach you to control it.” Andi’s eyes sparkled at the notion. She’d fight side-by-side with a vigilante. As a vigilante. “And I don’t want you to follow my path. I’ve told you time and time again that fighting is dangerous and foolhardy. I won’t muck that up with dragging you into this.”
Andi scoffed in disbelief. “Dragging me into this? I’d be fighting for a reason, right? That makes it some totally different shit, doesn’t it, Supernova—that’s what they’re calling you, isn’t it? The woman who burns as hot as the Sun. Take me as, like, an apprentice. You can make sure I stay out of trouble, and teach me to actually keep my cool in a dangerous scenario!”
“Andrea, we are not discussing this further. You have a family looking for you in desperation, and we will not be making things worse by putting you directly into danger. You need to go home. I’ll speak with your father, but I can’t keep you here. They could charge Omar and me with kidnapping if they find out.”
Andi’s posture deflated. She glared at the blankets over her lap. She didn’t want to go back. She wanted anything but to go back there, or look at his face ever again. Nasira’s touch was light against her shoulder, but she pretended like she couldn’t feel it. Maybe there just weren’t any adults to trust.
“Andi. I promise I only want what’s best for you.”
“Then train me!” She snapped. “When I was getting into fights at school, you recommended that I make something of my energy, use up my anger, and I made JV field hockey freshman year. And now I’m more pissed than I’ve ever been and the human equivalent of Smokey the Bear’s worst freakin’ nightmare and you want me to just sit at home? Stuck all summer with him? He’s got another family, Officer Fakhoury. He cheated on my mom, and he threatened me not to tell her. He’s dead to me, and I want him dead. But if you train me, if you let me help you out, I might just keep my head. I’ll listen to every order, every word, everything. I promise. But don’t make me stay there without anything. Please.”
Nasira took in a deep breath, slowly exhaling as she weighed her choice. Andi held hers, fearing whatever response was about to come.
“I will consider it based on how your control progresses. This is dangerous, Andi. I don’t think you understand, but perhaps showing you may be the only way.”
#my writing#original content#original fiction#short story#original writing#original short story#superhero fiction#original superhero#superhero ocs#lgbt oc#bisexual oc#andrea bianchi#andi bianchi#origin story#superhero origin story
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Countering the Copy Theory: An argument for FMA2003′s intention to communicate that the homunculi were once human.
I think about this moment a lot.
When I was 14 and... a little dense(er), it flew straight over my head just like every other pre-episode 40 hint at Lust’s past, but looking back, it is central in understanding the homunculi’s nature + how they fit into the hierarchy of characters and relationships throughout canon.
This is the only memory Lust has in which she actually speaks. If I remember correctly, it’s the only homunculus flashback that features any talking at all. It is also notably different because it takes place after Lust has already been transmuted, and it is clearly not a direct image from her mind, but a symbolic framing of Lust flashing back to the moment of her creation, for which she was, given her dialogue here, entirely conscious and aware.
In the original Japanese audio, she simply shouts “Don’t go!” The English dub makes the scene’s intention a bit more explicit: “Don’t go, please! No, I love you!” It’s more obvious that she knows who is in the room with her. This isn’t the only time the dub rephrases Lust’s dialogue to place an emphasis on the romance in her human life: In episode 47 of the dub, she refers to her former self as “an Ishbalan woman, deep in love.” In the original Japanese, the line was simply “I was an Ishbalan woman.”
Back to the original point, though: when a homunculus is born, they are awake and cognizant.
This scene also indicates that Lust remembers her former identity. This is further supported by Sloth later telling Dante about her own memories. It’s the first thing she does when she can speak. Even though their bodies are twisted and malformed, their minds are functional enough to express emotion and to remember. (Tangent question: This raises the question as to why Lust’s human and homunculus flashbacks are grouped together in such a way. It seems to indicate that both were forgotten in her homunculus lifespan, then remembered at a later time. As if they were artificially washed away. Hmm...)
This is all leading up to a point I’m trying to make about how the show seems to want us to view the homunculi. On multiple occasions, I’ve seen it debated and discussed as to whether or not homunculi are actually broken reincarnations of their former selves, or if they’re just living copies of the dead. A lot of fans seem to not even question the “copy theory” and accept it as absolute truth. Why?
Backtrack. This is a topic of heavy debate among the characters as well as the fans, but what is the actual source of said debate? Edward. The protagonist.
Edward’s fierce denial of Sloth’s identity (and, to the counter, Al’s acceptance) is arranged as early as episode 15, when Alphonse is actually willing to suggest that he might have heard his mother’s voice when Sloth spoke. Edward makes a quick comment about Al going unstable, and it’s dropped for the moment. Fast forward to the Yock Island arc when the truth of the homunculi is revealed. The brothers aren’t stupid. They are already aware, on some level, of what they brought to life. Alphonse actively attempts to face it. Edward repeatedly and aggressively changes the subject.
It is from this point forward that Edward and only Edward begins to vehemently insist to all who will listen that a homunculus is a “fake.” Not the real thing and certainly not a revived human. Why would he be so quick to insist this to himself and others, regardless of his brother’s suggestions and his highly learned teacher’s obvious attachment to Wrath? Denial is a powerful drug. Edward already has so much guilt on his shoulders regarding the transmutation that taking on the possibility that he has permanently twisted his own mother beyond repair is too much to handle.
So he never faces it.
At least, not until it’s already way too late and Sloth is dissolving before his eyes. Whether Sloth’s last words (motherly and kind in nature) were meant as one last fuck you to the boys or as an actual break of humanity, we’ll never know. But it is extremely clear on Edward’s face that he’s been hit. Hard. The mask of denial breaks. He’s horrified. He’s consciously considering for the first time the possibility that he’s just killed what’s left of his mother.
What of the other characters who are related in some way to homunculi? Dante simply says whatever is convenient for her motives at the time. Given her role as the mass manipulator, nothing she says can be taken at face value. Everything that comes out of her mouth has an agenda. She tells the homunculi that they do not have feelings or parents. Izumi’s arguably flawed logic eventually reaches the same conclusion as Edward’s after Wrath is brainwashed: He has to die. This originates in their mutual school of alchemy that focuses heavily on the flow of life and the assumed perfection of equivalent exchange. Wrath should not be alive. This was her wrongdoing. She has to right it. Before that, though? Even though she always knew the truth of Wrath’s existence, (she states so) she takes him in, protects him, and feeds him. Because on the deepest level, Izumi believes that Wrath is her son. Izumi can’t bring herself to carry out the final act of ending his life. Because Wrath is her son.
What about Scar? It is shown from episode 18 that Lust’s existence troubles and confuses him. He has nightmares about her. Bear in mind, this is an extremely unstable man who has been living in essential solitude for upwards of ten years, unaware that there are survivors of his own people and unable to seek help from Amestrians. But his mind immediately and irreversibly identifies Lust as a dead woman. Despite his vehement denial, the proof is in the pudding when he’s willing to protect her with his life (eyerollll).
Hohenheim. Arguably knows more about alchemy than any other character in the series. Directly refers to Envy as his son in CoS. His cowardly abandonment of Envy is a direct parallel to his abandonment of the family he built with Trisha. Papa Hoho cuts and runs as soon as there’s a snag. When he confesses what he’s done to Envy, he isn’t even saying it to Envy. He’s saying it to Edward. FMA never hesitates to parallel Hohenheim with his middle son, and I think that’s what it’s doing here, as well.
Which leaves Edward to be the only character who actually believes ‘his’ homunculus is nothing more than a copy of his mother onto which his own feelings were projected. Dante reinforces this idea as well, but as I mentioned before, nothing she says is reliable. Forgive my reach, but I think the fandom-wide assumption that homunculi are “copies” and that nothing truly “comes back” during a human transmutation stems partially from the ever-presence of Ed’s opinion throughout canon. Even though we get compelling testemony from characters who would naturally know much more about the subject than he (Lust, Izumi, Hohenheim), it’s still Edward’s idea, perpetuated by Dante, that is accepted as common truth.
With all of this in mind, I don’t think it can be definitely stated that homunculi are or are not shards of human beings who once lived. And I don’t think it’s a question that’s supposed to have an explicit answer. Lust, who is significantly more in touch with her origins than any other, insists that hers is the identity of the Ishbalan woman who died some ~15 years prior to canon. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Envy, who wants nothing more than to wipe away the past, is completely convinced that he is Hohenheim’s child.
Dogma of alchemy claims that this is completely impossible, but the main thesis of the show is that the central idea of the alchemy Edward and Alphonse knew, Equivalent Exchange, is not absolutely true. The whole point is that Ed was wrong. That the books were wrong. Personally, I don’t think it’s much of a stretch at all to think that FMA 03 wanted us to consider the possibility of them being wrong about homunculi, too.
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hello everyone!! You can call me cupcake!!( i acc hate cupcakes irl no h8 ) I’m 18 and my timezone is GMT!!! This is Jun Hyera who is honestly?? a mess?? @ Hyera pls stop, her trope is the CRESTFALLEN and u will soon find out why heh anyway LIKE THIS IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO PLOT and I’ll hop into your im’s :) <3 anyway onto the emo backstory asdfghk tw: suicide, drowning
so basically Hyera has always had a super good relationship with her parents??
they’ve always loved and supported her!! and they were both astrophysicists!! they always took her along with them on their travels and taught her about physics and the stars and she was?? in love honestly.
she was a vv good bean throughout high school, she was that cute innocent girl who was friends with everyone, she wasn’t bullied at all and had a cute group of friends.
ever since she was a kid she would help animals and help birds who had broken wings ok ?? cinnamon roll pls
she had good grades tbh her parents were reasonably well off.
and while she did get a bit sad because she didn’t have any relationships it was lowkey not a big deal
her parents always taught her that she was good enough
she has a little sis who’s 8/9 who she loves a lot even though her lil sis highkey resents her and hyera doesn’t understand why?? ( cough*jealous alert)
anyway so she realises she’s always wanted to be a doctor bc the sanctity of life is vv important to her and she gets into a really good uni (imperial college London)
two years in and her sis is staying at her grandparents bc she and her parents are going on a hiking trip for some mapping project abroad
and it’s heavily snowing and the visibility is really bad the more they go into the mountains and basically she and her fam get lost. First she loses her dad (because there is literally no visibility) and while she and her mum are looking for him her mum slips and is knocked unconscious?
....so this poor girl is like wtf do i do?? She’s too weak to get her mum up to a shelter which is higher up so she has to leave her mum :(
she hides it out till the storm ends and makes it back to contact the authorities
a few days and they’re still missing?? so hyera assumes the worst and starts preparing for their funeral
then her sister is like ‘hyera this is all your fault you should’ve looked out for them , you could’ve done more and bla bla aka I won’t ever forgive you, you deserve to die’
she’s grieving and so riddled with guilt?? she can’t comprehend her life without her parents and her sister hates her, she feels so alone and feels as if she can’t save LIVES like she’d always wanted too?
so she jumps off a bridge and while she’s drowning she feels regret and tries to swim up but she’s losing consciousness and she sees the world changing and pixels appearing while she thinks she’s dying
and then BAM she’s in the virtual world
Hyera wants to escape and go back to look after her sister and to finally see if her parents are alive?? she feels guilt for leaving them and she promises to look after anyone/protect people as much as she can
so she’s currently continuing her medical studies to become a doctor while also trying her best to not only retain order but make it back & find other people who are trapped like her??
onto personality: hyera appears positive but inside she’s grieving and hurt. The wound is still fresh for her and she’s doing her best to hold it in.
She’ll push her problems down for others and while she seems innocent at first, she’s determined to survive.This means that she often lies about her true feelings, intentions just to make sure she even finds an escape in this world.
POSSIBLE PLOTS:
someone corrupting her/making her question her ideals
neighbour in the virtual world
someone she wants to protect
an old friend/enemy/contact who she lost contact with
a lost/half sister/brother to make her realise her parents weren’t as great as she thought they were
investigating buddy
someone trying to escape just like she is
she finds them injured and helps them??
alternatively, hyera gets injured trying to find an escape and they help her?
best friend who was luckily with her!!
someone who she’s desperate to stop!! esp if they’re causing trouble, hurting people...she will confront them ://
they eat dinner together!!
she monitored this person while in med school? read their file? if they were ill ( if they are from a different country this file could be used as an example as a training device for example) and now they’re there?? irl
#virtualintro#its 2 am i need to sleEP#THIS GOT SO LONG IM SO SORRY#BUT IM SO EXCITED PLS HIT ME UP#ready 4 dis angst
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MEME | status: accepting
Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship.
danica x brandon
Danica is about 95% certain that Brandon is a fever dream she made up when she tripped and slammed her head. She didn’t slam her head. He’s this handsome, strong, mountain man she met in Maine and the way they met feels like a Hallmark movie. She’s pretty certain she’s gonna go back to Maine to visit him and the park rangers are gonna tell her no one named Brandon had ever worked for them.
When she first moved to Maine, and when she had nothing to do with her days, Danica would ask Brandon to let her come to work with him. She would stay in the truck if anything ever happened, but she would go on his rounds with him and do the hikes. In the beginning there was a lot of labored breathing and him making sure she wasn’t going to trip on a leaf, but eventually she gained confidence in her feet and she keeps up with him pretty well. When she’s at work, she misses the time spent with him and will still sometimes ask on her days off when she doesn’t have anything to write for her blog.
Danica’s second favorite place in the world is an overstuffed armchair near the fireplace in Brandon’s cabin. When the rain is coming down and the fire is going, all she needs to keep her happy is a glass of wine and a good book or her laptop. Her first favorite place in the world is when Brandon squishes himself into the chair with her.
Even though she has more than enough of her own clothes, Danica, when she’s around the cabin she’s almost always wearing little more than boyshorts and one of Brandon’s shirts. It started out as an ‘I need to do laundry’ thing, and quickly moved to a ‘I like the way he looks at me’ thing.
joshua x ashley
Ashley wasn’t completely wrong about Josh hanging around because he felt bad about Jordan, though it was less for Ashley to have someone around and more because he needed someone. What started for him as getting to know his ex’s sister turned into a friendship. He’s not entirely proud of it, which is why he wouldn’t admit to it.
Josh refuses to do things with Ashley that belonged to him and Jordan, even if she asks. He usually changes the subject or suggests something else for them to do instead. He’s not entirely aware of her crush on him, but he knows something about her feels familiar and he doesn’t want to put himself into the position.
Joshua has a standing offer that no matter where or when, Ashley can text him if she ever feels uncomfortable and wants a way out. It started the day he found out she was going to parties. Not that he thinks she can’t take care of herself, but he knows the kinds of guys she’s hanging out with. It could be a Tuesday morning, three hours before he has to wake up and get to work. He would still be there.
joshua x jordan
Josh regrets the night before Jordan left and he’s pretty certain he’ll never forgive himself for not giving her the promise ring he’d already been carrying around most of the summer. He’s convinced that if he would have just given it to her, they could have stayed together, she would have moved back home after college, and they would have gotten engaged that summer, and been married within the next year.
The night Josh found out Jordan was dating Brody was the first night he got good and properly drunk. He’d had alcohol before, but tastes. He was so far gone he couldn’t get back into his house and his father had to come out and give him a talkin’ to. Which was less... don’t drink, and more, I know it hurts but sometimes that’s life. You’re gonna find someone who’s gonna take all this pain away one day.
Josh definitely made sure to text Jordan every night to tell her good night, and after they started dating officially, to tell her goodnight and that he loved her. Even if he’d only dropped her off at her door ten minutes previous. It became such a habit that he didn’t even think to stop after she started pulling away, though he does remember the first time she didn’t text back.
paul x casey
One would assume Paul to be the kind of man who brings a date to a work function and then sub-consciously ignores them the whole night through as they deal with business... but not true. He makes an effort to assure her glass is never empty, there’s usually a hand hovering at the small of her back, and he does his best to include her in conversation. He would also do his best to reassure her of her place there amid side-glances and off-hand comments from other attendees. If at any point she wanted to leave, assuming it wasn’t five minutes after they arrived, he would most likely escort her home.
Of all the people in his family he didn’t want to meet Casey, his brother would be at the top of the list. Not because of any unforeseen tension, but because Austin has a way of making people like him. He’s relaxed, good-natured, shows a genuine interest in everyone’s story... everything that Paul hasn’t been able to become. He’s certain that if Casey and his brother get along, it’s only a matter of time before she wishes he was more like Austin and wondering what went “wrong”.
The second fight Casey goes to, seeing as the first was a surprise to him, is gonna make Paul hella nervous. He knows he loses control in the ring, he knows how violent he becomes. He’s not used to anyone seeing that, not anyone he’ll then have to remember after the next day. It won’t hold him back, but he’ll likely tread more carefully around her until she lets him know, however subtly, that she’s all right with it.
When Casey first started patching him up after fights, Paul was uncomfortable at best and stayed that way for a few weeks. It’s one of the few times he’s vulnerable, and to let another person see him like that who isn’t a professional is a huge step for him in general and probably took some convincing before it became a regular thing.
paul x wes
Paul will never willingly fight Wes. Not that he thinks him incapable, but because he doesn’t want to jeopardize the friendship they’re building. Not that he assumes Wes would look at him any differently, but he would look at Wes differently. He projects the subject of his anger onto the other fighter in the ring with him and he doesn’t think he would be able to disassociate once the fight was over.
Nights when he goes to the bar to spend time with Wes and Casey are some of his favorites, though most people would be hard pressed to know that about him. He’s still stiff, hard to draw conversation from, and rarely smiles. But he’s fond of their dynamic, and fond of the both of them in general.
sarina x casey
Much to Casey’s chagrin, Sarina tries to get her up and dancing any time she sees her. Especially when there’s music playing.
Casey is the first person to find out about Sarina’s ex-husband and the guilt she feels about being with Wes, but only because she knows she can trust her not to say anything. She talks about her ex freely enough, though she has a hard time dealing with the ‘bad’ feelings surrounding the relationship.
sarina x wes
Sarina doesn’t know how to not touch Wes. She’s a touchy-feely kind of person, to a lesser extent with friends as well, but unless she’s doing something that requires both hands or she’s too far to reach, she has at least one hand on him. Wrapped over the inside of his elbow, their fingers laced together, resting casually against his thigh, an arm over his shoulder. Sometimes even just shoulder to shoulder. She craves contact.
While she would never admit it, and she’s glad Wes told her, Sarina is a wreck every time he fights. She still goes though. She won’t sit in the front row, she doesn’t want him to look over and see the worry on her face, or the cringe every time he takes a hit. She would also brush off any offer of her just staying home, because waiting to see how hurt he was or wasn’t would be even worse.
#danica:meme#danica x brandon#joshua:meme#joshua x ashley#joshua x jordan#paul:meme#paul x casey#paul x wes#sarina:meme#sarina x casey#sarina x wes#synchronxcity
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What do you think the hug means in the context of operation out? You previously discussed how the touch Emma and Regina share fits the narrative of someone in a comatose/vegetative state, but now a hug seems to break the rules there? Or do you think this is happening perhaps in Snow's dream world? Also, thanks for sharing your positivity and theories!
Hey!
I don’t like posting incomplete theories, but I’ll share the bits and pieces of what I think has been going on this season, because it’s so good for us, actually. Everything under this is my current hypothetical based on first impressions.
What’s been happening this season is that Emma is starting to wake up. Her subconscious recreates what’s happening to her in little summaries. The wish realm showed us what happened since the Pilot. She’s slowly sunk into a dream world where she lost her memories and tried to live up to her fairy tale parents’ expectations. The Emma she remembered was the Emma we first met.
Snow & Charming’s sleeping curse reflects her current state where she’s half awake, half asleep. Emma is their heart. That’s why I suspect they’ll break their sleeping curse, but get stuck on the sleeping side. It’s what happened to Emma, it would be another clue for her that it’s possible to think you have broken a curse while you haven’t. It gives them the opportunity to do a marriage and a musical. It’ll clue people in that something’s up… while still having Emma marry her Animus figure and thus making peace with herself.
That’s the bigger picture in a nutshell, let’s zoom in on the hug.
In this wish realm there was a choice to go back to the dream world - go through the portal - or stay with Regina who was going after Robin. Emma made her choice, she chose Regina and the world that seems less real to her than the current one - reality.
Robin - I assume - is/was Regina’s boyfriend in the real world, but he is also a self-insert for Emma. That’s why it’s difficult to understand what this character is about. Emma really dislikes him and thinks he isn’t right for Regina - on top of her jealousy, I think he is a lawyer who screwed up Emma’s case or something - so we get all these scenes where he becomes the character to ask the not-so-smart questions. In other moments he has conversations with Regina where Emma expresses what she would like to say to Regina through him. I think what died last season was Regina’s image of the man. She ended her projections and now she’s dealing with reality Robin. So that’s what’s going on with Regina emotionally and it’s mixed up -as usual - with what’s going on with Emma.
When Emma and Regina didn’t take the portal back, everything changed. Instead they went back through the wardrobe. We saw Emma go through the wardrobe in the Pilot, when she had the accident. Going through it again symbolized Emma getting closer to consciousness. She’s crossing over.
Emma is probably starting to sit up and make real eye-contact. Maybe she’s uttering some words, but she’s still very far gone. Meanwhile Regina has been living for years fighting this battle with her and for her. Regina feels like she knows Emma. She’s researched Emma’s life, she’s done the coma work where they talk through gestures and touches. Where someone taught her to interpret the fluttering of Emma’s eyelashes and twitching of a finger. She feels like she knows Emma intimately and similarly, she has shared a lot of herself with Emma she hasn’t told anyone… but suddenly Emma is waking up and she can’t be certain of anything anymore.
Now keep that in mind and think about Emma’s perspective. Her mind is constantly working to make a mash-up of her fairy tale world and the real world. As she gets closer to the real world, we get more and more snippets of real conversations and she has to work harder to make sense of what she really sees around her. What we’ve seen was always reality-related, but you have to imagine it’s becoming less and less warped. Conversations and people’s actions very close to the real world.
Regina is one of the people she has the most contact with. Suddenly Regina’s acting really strange to her in reality. Regina’s acting like she doesn’t really know her. All this time Regina has been talking to her like a normal person. Snarky, telling her things. Suddenly, because Regina sees the signs of Emma waking up, she’s talking to her like they’re acquaintances who sorta know each other. It doesn’t add up for Emma. She doesn’t understand the change in Regina. So what happens in Emma’s mind? First we have the wish realm where she’s lost her memories, that initially explains Regina’s actions.
…but even though she's starting to remember who she is - which was significant and to be taken literally - Regina keeps being really weird. This can’t be about her, so it must be that Robin has come back, but he’s a different Robin who looks like Robin… Yes, that’s it. That’s who Regina’s talking to.
So when Regina and Emma came back through the closet…. that’s when Emma left her own Narnia. She crossed a boundary of wakefulness. She’s probably starting to sit up. Robin in this instance was simply Emma as well. He only appears after she leaves… and that’s when the first hug between Emma and Regina actually happens.
First it’s Regina just acting on emotion. She knows Emma, the thing nobody expected is happening, she’s still alive and now she’s actually waking up. Regina carries all this guilt about Emma’s car crash - it was the middle of the night and she’d given her a drink before she left. It’s just her first instinct. “You’re finally back.” She’s fought so hard for this woman, risking everything… and there she is suddenly. It’s a heartfelt hug full of emotion. She knows Emma, they’ve been in this together.
…but Emma’s still really weak. She isn’t very responsive yet, this is a very slow and gradual process. You can see it hit Regina. All the questions she has no answers to. How much does Emma know? How did she perceive all this? Does she feel the same about their bond, about their fight, their journey? She realizes that she has no idea how much Emma knows, how she perceived all of this, how she really feels… and how the image she has of her compares to reality.
…then she pulls back. Self-conscious, not sure how to proceed. She apologizes for maybe overstepping. Emma isn’t strong and aware enough to reassure her. She’s there and not there.
Then the conversation between Mary Margaret and Regina further reinforces they are really talking about Emma.
Mary Margaret: Regina what were you thinking, how could you bring him here?Regina: You weren’t there. He was miserable in his world and he wanted a fresh start and I’m just trying to help him.Mary Margaret: But you don’t know who he is. Looking like Robin Hood doesn’t make him the same person. Trust me, I once kissed David’s twin, world of difference.Regina: We’ve barely even talked.Mary Margaret: Well, there’s some things you should probably tell him, like for example he has a daughter.Regina: It’s not his daughter.Mary Margaret: Exactly my point, they’re different people.Regina: But there could be a part of him in there. He was able to cross into the real world, that has to mean something.Mary Margaret: Regina I want this to work out for you, you deserve this. I’m worried.Regina: Yeah. Me too.
This is very close to reality. They’re worried because Regina has no idea how close the reality of who Emma is will be compared to the expectations. Not only did she only talk to Emma very briefly before the car crash, she’s gotten to know her through talking to people who knew her, through files and research. She knows her because they have been fighting together and Emma reached out to her… but they don’t know how Emma’s going to come out of this. Will she be the same person after brain damage? It’s all up in the air. They haven’t been able to talk much yet, Regina can’t really gauge the situation.
And then there is the issue of Henry’s custody. They share custody - it’s what happened during Going Home and it was represented by Snow & Charming’s heart split. I’m not 100% clear on the why behind it, but I think it was partly about keeping Henry - the small print on the adoption was what Mr Gold blackmailed Regina with during season one - that’s what the “Please” was about. And on the other hand legalizing Emma’s ties to Henry so they could take care of her and make decisions on her behalf to keep her alive.
Of course now imagine this unusual situation for Regina where she has to tell Emma - who for all she knows may want nothing to do with them - that she now has a son. And at the same time she is terrified that she will want Henry and they will disagree on parenting him, but she has legal custody. It’s a terrifying situation for her.
That’s what’s going on in reality. The hug is actually a good way to show how cyclical this show is. How we get the same experience from a very different perspective to process all the emotions behind it.
Of course, Emma wanted to frame this hug between the two of them as well, but it had to make sense in her current reality… one where she is marrying Hook and in denial about loving Regina. That’s where the warp happened. I think there may be a slightly darker side to his, because I think this is Emma’s jealousy. In the real world Emma is alone and she’s jealous of Robin… she’s turning the emotions around, it’s less painful for her if she imagines Regina being the one pining for her instead of the other way around. In this world Emma has it all and she’s afraid of letting that go. That’s why the hug between them was the anti-climatic one. Emma has to make all the stories match up with reality and they still have to mean something on an emotional level.
Last but not least, we had the hug between Regina and the Evil Queen - which was very much about Regina starting to love herself and looking at her past with compassion… but a part of it was also once again processing that first hug and how much it meant to Emma. There are now three instances triggered by the same event, the first hug.
Emma has a troubled past that Regina and Henry know about and it was one thing for them to fight for her when she was completely helpless and in a vegetative state… It’s another thing for them to keep her in their life when she’s awake. The Evil Queen represents Emma’s Id. Her essential self… and Regina hugged her. She hugged her anyway in spite of everything she knows. She told her they are in each other’s lives now, because of Henry, whether either of one likes it or not and that means something. Regina doesn’t treat her differently now that she’s waking and… Emma…. now she has that tiny sliver of hope that maybe this family is going to keep her.
…and excuse me while I go cry in the corner.
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3 reasons why we can't be trusted to set our own work schedules — and what to do about it
garryknight/Flickr
People tend to get in their own way, and it prevents them from making the most of a flexible work schedule.
Present bias, the planning fallacy, and social norms are three examples of how and why.
It's possible to overcome each one with some work.
I am in the enviable position of pretty much setting my own schedule as the director of the work-life program at a think tank.
I’ve read the research showing flexible work eases work-life conflict and can enhance performance, so I’ve made flexible work the default for my team as well.
We have deadlines and high standards everyone is expected to meet. But where, when, and how you do that is up to you.
So why am I working on Sunday?
It’s not like I didn’t work long and hard from Monday to Friday. And while I like my work, I’m more than a little ticked off at myself that, instead of enjoying a beautiful fall day with my family, I’ll either be in my office typing away, or if I take time to go outside, I’ll feel a familiar tug of guilt that I should be back in front of the computer.
I’m keenly aware of the irony of the fact that I work on work-life balance and can’t stop working. And I also know that I’m not alone: Most studies show one reason why knowledge workers with flexible schedules are more productive is because they actually put in longer hours than those with strict schedules.
Turns out that flexible work can actually bring out some of the worst in human behavior.
In other words, we humans, when left to our own devices, tend to be too flawed in our decision-making prowess to make the most of flexible work.
Let me explain.
Behavioral scientists like Richard Thaler, who just won the Nobel prize in economics, argue that we humans are “predictably irrational” and consistently bad at making decisions that are in our best interests.
We tend to make decisions based on what we heard most recently or remember best, not necessarily what’s most important. And we so prize the notion of fairness that, in one of Thaler’s findings, we’ll refuse to pay more for an umbrella even in the middle of a rainstorm.
Flexible work with schedule control has been shown to be critical for helping people effectively combine work and life responsibilities.
But the science shows there are at least three reasons why human behavior can get in the way, and how we could design better systems to get out of our own way. Thaler calls them “nudges.”
Present Bias
Though we may have a hard time being in the moment—our monkey minds jumping from past regrets to future worries to lengthy to-do lists and ’round again—we humans are biased toward the present moment.
That’s what makes saving for retirement in the far-off, abstract future so difficult when the weight of figuring out how to make very concrete monthly bill payments takes up so much of our attention in the here and now.
And that’s why we can start the work week on Monday with every intention of being superproductive and having a sane work-life balance, like I did last Monday.
Yet, in the heat of the moment, with always more to do, we may decide we really need to send those 10 emails, make these five phone calls, finish up that one project, offer one more really exciting story idea (like this one, that hit me late Friday afternoon), and wind up staying late or taking work home.
So to protect yourself from losing track of your best-laid plans and getting caught up overdoing in the present moment, design a “pre-commitment” device.
Think of it as a promise to your future self. For instance, behavioral economist Iris Bohnet consciously chose to put her children in a child care center with a strict 6 p.m. cutoff rather than hire a nanny. “That way, you actually have to go home,” she told me.
My kids are teenagers and no longer really care when I get home from work, so I have to think up other pre-commitment devices.
I once forced myself to make a deadline by making a bet with a colleague that I’d have to wear a “Make America Great Again” baseball cap to the office if I didn’t.
I met that deadline.
The Planning Fallacy
How many times did you size up a project, estimate that it would take you an hour or two, and find yourself still stuck in the middle of it hours and hours later?
We humans are sunny, overly optimistic creatures when it comes to how much we assume we’ll be able to accomplish in a given time. That’s called the planning fallacy. And I know it only too well.
In one study, college students were asked to predict best- and worst-case scenarios for how long it would take to complete their senior theses.
By the time the papers were done, only 10 percent of the students had finished by their most optimistic estimates. Most took 21 days longer than their best estimates, and fewer than half the students were done by their most pessimistic predictions.
The nudge here is to always plan for more time for things to go wrong, emergencies to erupt, and times you will be distracted and unmotivated—because you will be. One particularly effective nudge can be to schedule blocks of concentrated time for your priority work projects every week, even the things you don’t think should take much time.
And to add a block of unscheduled time—behavioral scientists call it “slack”—to account for your predictably flawed planning for the week.
Dan Connolly, a senior associate at Ideas42, a nonprofit that uses behavioral science to solve real-world problems, keeps his Friday free of meetings and schedules several hours of slack time to make sure he can enjoy his weekend by starting it with all his work done. (That is, in part, exactly why I’m working on Sunday. I filled my Friday slack time with email … again.)
Social Norms
We humans are social creatures. We tend to be influenced by role models we see and by what everyone around us appears to be doing.
With most white-collar and knowledge work, we don’t have the visual cues and the easy signals, like the factory whistle or the sun setting over the fields, to know when work is done.
It’s one reason why most workplaces are still trapped in an older and easier method for measuring work—hours on the job, or what sociologist Phyllis Moen has called the “time cage” of rigid, traditional work.
But when longer hours are equated with better work and more dedicated workers at most workplaces, and technology like email can pour in at all hours and make it appear that people are working, flexible work will only make it easier for us to expand work to fill the time allotted, which is all the time.
I think of a study on mindless eating. A group of people were given tomato soup to eat. Some in the group simply finished their bowls of soup and stopped eating, satisfied by what they had.
The visual cue of an empty bowl signaled that their meal had come to an end. But some in the group had bowls connected to an apparatus that would slowly refill the bowl.
Without the visual cue of doneness, as long as there was soup in the bowl, they kept eating and wound up consuming 73 percent more than those with a single serving of soup. That sounds an awful lot like work creep on a flexible schedule, when there is always more to do and nothing to signal that you’re done.
The potential solution? Perhaps a good place to start is creating a work culture that discourages work email and communication in the evenings and on weekends so that even flexible work has some boundaries.
After a spate of what I thought were brilliant late-night inspirations that instead felt to my team like the workday extended into the wee hours, my team installed an app called Boomerang on my computer.
Now I can write an email and clear the cognitive load in my own mind but schedule it to go out during work hours so that I don’t create undue stress and impose on the cognitive load of the receivers.
But truly changing that overwork social norm, which stresses families, has been shown to disadvantage women, and leads to an estimated 120,000 excess deaths a year and nearly $200 billion in health costs, will take more than a nudge.
The shove? Stigmatizing long hours and burnout work cultures, valuing our lives and identities outside of work, making flexible work really work, and taking regular time off to refresh and recharge on Sunday or any day that works best for your work and life—well, that’s what we all need to work on.
Brigid Schulte is the director of the Better Life Lab at New America, author of "Overwhelmed: Work, Love, & Play When No One Has the Time," and formerly an award-winning journalist at the Washington Post.
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