#hah! another thing to maybe write about! I have so many ideas but no motivation to write!!!
Note
pleeeeaaaasee do more shane x reader (preferably gender neutral). Your writing is so good and the "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" one broke me. You're a hurt/comfort master
HAH you've given me another idea from this ask alone (insp by my farmer getting alex's 8 heart event while married to shane)
Sorry gang I swear fluffier stuff with Shane is coming
.....
It was just a few days into summer, and Shane already had plans to change up his usual routine once again.
Ever since moving onto your farmland, he found himself getting more motivated to take longer walks. This morning, he planned on doing so after ensuring the crops were watered and the animals were well-fed.
He greeted the cows, rabbit, pigs, and chickens as they filed out of the coop and barn one-by-one, not letting any of them miss their daily pets. Seeing the ostrich and little green dinosaur emerge didn't faze him as much as it did the first time he saw them--he still had no clue how you acquired their eggs (especially one from the skull caverns), but you didn't treat them any differently.
They were both lovable creatures. Just like the blue chickens he introduced you to several months ago.
Knowing you raised some and kept them on the farm made him beam with pride, glad he got to stay here and help run things in your steed.
He wouldn't trade it for the world.
You set off for the beach earlier than usual today, having left a note on the table, and Shane opted to just hang back and repair some of the fences that were looking a bit worn out.
According to the TV, it was a "good luck day", and you hoped to find fortune in the form of a rainbow shell washed up on the coast. You certainly loved foraging them, but even if there weren't any around, you figured you'd go fishing.
Your husband wasn't the best at either skill, although a few hours after you left, he felt a little bored and decided to go visit the beach. Maybe you could use his moral support since other people--mainly Willy and Elliot-mentioned hearing you curse like a sailor when you were wrestling with a fish...or when said fish escaped your line.
He could be there to cheer you up, or teasingly bet on how many joja cola cans you'll fish out of the ocean.
That would be pretty funny, he thought.
So he headed off on his usual walking route, but instead of going to Cindersap Forest or stopping by Pelican Town's river, he ventured towards the beach, greeting whoever said "hello" to him.
Upon arrival, however, Shane stopped in his tracks as he noticed you weren't entirely alone on the beach.
It wasn't Willy, Elliot, Leah, nor that parrot kid you rescued from Ginger Island, but Alex.
He wouldn't have minded that so much....if not for the fact that you two were sitting awfully close together on the coast, overlooking the foamy waves. You were totally oblivious to his presence, so he hung back with suspicion.
Of course, he knew you were growing more sociable with the rest of the villagers, and he didn't want your marriage to be the reason you stopped talking to people.
Even so..something didn't feel right about this, especially as he watched you move closer to Alex, putting an arm around him. And when the younger male put his head on your shoulder, Shane's heart dropped.
You were talking, but obviously he couldn't make out what you were saying thanks to the noisy waves and annoying seagulls.
At this point, however, it became clear what was going on.
And it made him feel utterly sick to his stomach, his mind constantly circling back to one conclusion. Only one explanation as to why you'd ever be that close to Alex, and perhaps why you've been frequently leaving the farm earlier than normal:
You were seeing him behind his back, thinking he'd never find out.
He didn't know how else to interpret that. How else could he?
But of everybody in this town, why did it have to be the guy who reminded him of his youthful days in gridball?
The guy who radiated positivity and was always in high spirits?
The guy who wasn't old and weak and depressed...like him?
'I knew it..they finally got bored of me. But why would they do this?' Scowling, he felt like storming over and saying something, but he couldn't will himself to freak out here and now.
No.
Why bother?
Instead he decided to turn on his heel and storm back to the farm, nearly tripping over a rainbow shell as he did so. The saloon was closed, so he couldn't escape there...but he'll settle for rotting in bed until you come home.
You'll be back, and he'll confront you then.
.......
Coming back to the farmland around noon, you frowned a bit as you didn't see Shane anywhere outside. He wasn't at the mini coop like he normally was, and poor Charlie was looking for him.
"Where did he go, Charles? Hm?" With a soft coo, you kneeled down to pet the chicken. She clucked, her beak pointing towards the cabin, and you thanked her with a small handful of corn before continuing inside.
However, as soon as you stepped into a rather quiet house, all the excitement sapped out of you. You'd normally hear him playing video games or watching a Tunneler's game, but as you entered your shared bedroom...you found him just laying down, his back turned to you.
"Hey, honey." You sighed, relieved as you sat down on the mattress. "All that farmwork got tiring, huh? I understand. Thank you for doing it."
"........."
"..Shane? You still asleep?"
There was a long silence, only for it to be broken by a quiet sniffle, and your heart sunk, wondering what happened. "Hey, what's wrong-?"
As you put a hand on his shoulder, Shane flinched and rolled over to face you, his eyes red and watery, and his expression full of disgust...as though you did something wrong.
You've never seen him get this angry at you. Not since your first meeting with him. "Baby-?"
"No. Enough petnames, [y/n]." He huffed, sitting up and staring at you with contempt. "You don't get to act like everything's fine. Like I don't know what's really going on."
"...what?"
"Why were you with Alex today? Did he convince you I wasn't good enough for you anymore? That I'm past my prime?"
You blinked in bewilderment, wondering how on earth he knew that and why he was getting so upset. "Wha..you were at the beach? Why didn't you tell me?"
"That's..not important." He grumbled. "If you love him more, fine. Just tell me. I was ready for the day you'd finally get sick of me. But..to do that behind my back...I just..." Fresh tears brimmed his eyes as he clutched the mermaid pendant with a shaky hand. "I thought you were different..but I was wrong."
Now you were totally lost, heart racing as you tried to wrack your brain for any reason he'd assume that you were cheating on him with Alex. You knew he had some major jealousy issues, and he's been actively working through them with his therapist, but it was never this bad.
"Listen, I promise that what you saw isn't what it-"
"You don't have to lie. I get it. He's young, better looking...he's everything I used to be. So why don't I just go and you can have him live on this farm with you? At least he won't be a burden. At least he won't-"
"Shane just stop. Stop." You raised your voice, growing infuriated. "What in the hell made you think I wanna be with Alex when we're married?! When I've been nothing but there for you since I moved to town?! If you let me finish, I'll explain everyth-"
"Oh I'm sure you have a "perfect" explanation already lined up." He rolled his eyes. "Unless you can tell me why you were that close to him, I don't see why I'm even-"
"Today's the anniversary of his mom's death."
Shane blinked once.
Then twice.
Then three times.
"Wha..?"
"She passed away 12 years ago." Frowning slightly, you watched his expression shift wildly. "Alex was sitting there, crying his eyes out, and I just...wanted to comfort him. Like any friend would do. That's all."
At this moment, Shane felt like the biggest piece of shit in the valley, and his shoulders sagged. He didn't know what to say.
"We just hugged, and he told me about the good memories they had," you continued, moving closer to put a hand over his own. "Cross my heart, absolutely nothing was going on between us, honey. You really think I'd do that to you? To the man I love?"
"....I....I didn't know he lost his mom.." He mumbled, still at a loss for words.
"Well it's not exactly something he'd share with the whole town. And I was gonna keep it between us, but you wouldn't let me explain myself." You reminded him with a small huff, and he looked down in guilt.
As quickly as your anger rose, however, it was quick to disappear as you watched him. He seemed very torn up and ashamed for accusing you of cheating, but you could understand his perspective and why he saw it in that light.
You would've been suspicious, too.
"Look..I know it did look like something else was going on. And I'm really sorry-"
"No, no..I should be sorry for acting like a total dickhead." Shane gazed back up at you, and his face tore your heart to shreds. "I didn't mean to freak and accuse you of anything. You were just comforting a kid who lost his mom and...I got angry for no reason. Without hearing your side. I shouldn't be like this..yet I feel like some bitter old man.."
"Hey, you're not old." You shook your head, cupping both sides of his cheeks and giving him a gentle kiss. "You're barely 30."
"Still..my body feels that way." He lightly chuckled, enveloping you in a tight hug. "And again, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, [y/n]...I promise I'm working on these stupid jealousy issues."
"I know you are, and I forgive you." Smiling, you squeezed him tight. "We're gonna be okay."
"Mhm..also..um..I found something for you." He let you go and dug into his jacket pocket for an unknown item, and when he presented it to you, the grin on your face was infectious.
"Oh my god..you found one for me?!!" Your eyes lit up, as you now held a beautiful rainbow shell in your hands.
Shane nodded. "Iridium quality."
"You're the best. I love you." Laughing, you brought him back into a hug, giving him a few more kisses. "And you said you sucked at foraging, huh?"
"Ah, well..just the "chopping trees" part. Picking stuff off the ground is easy." He shrugged, his smile bashful. "Glad you like it, sweetheart. Take it as my apology for that..um..misunderstanding."
"I forgive you a thousand times over. Now..I think I'll display this beauty in our aquarium. What do you think, Shane?"
"I think I'll go with and see."
You both hopped out of bed and headed over to where you kept the aquarium tanks, with Shane in better spirits than he was before.
He still felt guilty for acting that way towards you, but your everlasting patience and persistence with him prevails.
He's glad he picked up that rainbow shell for you.
#clanask#anonymous#sdv x reader#stardew valley x reader#sdv shane#sdv shane x reader#stardew valley shane x reader#hurt/comfort#angst#tw death mention
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I'm curious, do you have any specific projects that you really want to work on? I'd love to hear what you want to write/what ideas you have, if you're willing to share 🫶
-Spookie
SPOOKIE! YOU'RE TO SWEET THANK YOU!!! There are a few things I've been meaning to write, among them a small fic series! These are the things on my to-write list:
TF141 with a Dragon-Prince!Reader (I actually have the prologue written already, it's completely finished, I just have no idea where to go with it! I'm gonna brainstorm a few ideas for it so I can make this my fic series! I'm really excited to continue writing on this haha!)
Singing Price a Lullaby (I'm such a sucker for putting someone's head in my lap and singing them a lullaby! I can actually sing myself sleepy whenever I sing to myself! So I like to imagine that I could make other characters feel at ease with my voice as well!)
Ghost with a Transmasc!S/O (Listen, I'm a trans man and barely any character has ever brought me as much comfort as Ghost, therefore I'm gonna write this! It was just a matter of time until I'd write this!)
Celebrating König's Birthday (My birthday is still far off, but I'm gonna write this anyway because I couldn't really celebrate my birthday last year! If I can't be happy then I will project onto König and make him happy!!)
König Teasing His S/O in His Dialect (I headcanon König to speak the same dialect as me, therefore he'll speak his dialect to his S/O if he wants to tease them! Not every German can understand my dialect either! So naturally, König would tease you about it, especially if you do know German!)
Reader Finds out Cast is Ticklish (Listen, at the risk of sounding stupid, I just wanna be an idiot with those guys and gals! Sometimes all you need is to be an idiot and goof around with your favorite characters! Plus you can get them to laugh a bit, and the Gods know someone like Ghost could need it! Plus I wanna write about getting back at Soap! Also, it has been a while since I got to write about Alex, so there's that too!)
These are the things that I've been meaning to write for a while now! I'm sure there will be more things that I'll be writing! But that's all I've written down on my list! Thank you for asking, it makes me really happy that you care :D I hope you have a lovely day! May work become a bit less draining for you and that you may take a good nap at home afterwards!!
#cherry chats#thank youuuuuu!!!!! have a lovely day!!!#one of these days I'm gonna ask you about your wips as well! if you're willing to talk about them!!#because your firefighter Valeria still sounds so awesome! But no pressure!!#you're such a cool person and I will make you some hot chocolate because you're epic!!#I have quite a lot of things to write but I'm gonna take it easy and take plenty of breaks now!#I need to drill into my head that it's alright to not post for a few days!!#other blogs do it too and they seem much happier than me!#maybe I should pick up a new hobby as well! I mean I have been meaning to go to the gym as well!#hah! another thing to maybe write about! I have so many ideas but no motivation to write!!!#this is such a curse because writing is my favorite hobby!! I've been writing ever since I was a toddler!#my first ever story was a digimon fanfic that I wrote when I was like four!#good times haha!#am I rambling again? sorry! I just get so excited when I hear from you! I love my mutuals even if I'm usually too scared to talk to them!!#gotta check up on them more often!! I do love hearing about you as well!!#sorry! I'll shut up now! either way have a nice day!! may work not suck your soul dry!! I'm cheering for you!!
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Perceptive Blindness
Prompt: hi can i have some hurt/comfort lamp where virgil gets the others together and pines maybe? im feeling down and need to see virgil pining. ps i love all your fics (especially Is It Enough?)
Thanks to the nonny for this prompt! I hope it's what you wanted, I had fin with it. I love writing in Virgil's voice so much because I don't have to try and rein in my natural snark as much.
Read on Ao3
Pairings: LAMP babeyy
Warnings: our buddy V has a panic attack but it’s not super explicit
Word Count: 4814
It should’ve been easy, right? To see it coming?
Listen, Virgil’s job is to be observant, to pay attention to shit. Just because he’s notoriously, um, overreactive doesn’t mean he’s bad at paying attention. He sees a whole lot of shit and hey if you saw as much shit as Virgil did you’d be freaking out too, yeah? Okay, great, got that sorted.
So. Here’s the thing.
When Roman starts sitting a little closer to Patton that he used to on the couch or offering to help him cook and clean when they all know Roman would rather do anything else, Virgil notices. When Roman starts getting up earlier and earlier so he can beat Patton down to the kitchen so they can do it together, Virgil notices. (It’s not like he sleeps, he notices this shit when there’s not supposed to be people up and at ‘em for another half-hour.)
So yeah, maybe he sinks into Princey’s room one day and smirks when Roman startles terribly coming out of the bathroom.
“Hey there, Princey.”
“Don’t—goodness, Stormcloud,” Roman huffs, getting his balance back, “don’t do that. Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
“You were in the bathroom, you wouldn’t have answered.”
“How did you know I was—you know what, it doesn’t matter.” Roman shakes his head. “What do you want?”
“What, I can’t just pop my head in and say hi?”
“I’ve never in my life heard you say ‘pop my head in’ and I never want to hear it again.”
“That’s where you draw the line?”
“Everyone has a line, Dark and Stormy.”
Virgil shrugs, smiling when Roman glares at him for curling up on his bed. Which, alright fair.
“So.”
“You’ve yet to explain why you’re in my room,” Roman reminds, sounding less upset than confused.
“Just thought I’d say hi.”
“Yes, sure, that’s it.”
“What, you don’t believe me?” Roman just stares at him. “Okay, okay, I...may have an ulterior motive.”
“Aha!” Roman points at him victoriously. “I knew it! Now tell me, you fiend.”
It’s only the slight uptick of Roman’s mouth that lets him know that’s probably supposed to be a term of endearment.
“Oh, nothing much,” Virgil sighs, “just wondering about your sleeping habits.”
“Considering you’re the only one in the Mindscape who gets less sleep than me, you’re in no position to—“
“I’m not here to yell at you, Roman,” Virgil says quickly, relaxing a bit when Roman’s shoulders slump, “I just…you know, I hear you when you get up.”
“That’s…kind of creepy.”
“It’s my thing, Roman,” he sighs, “I pay attention to shit and it’s not like I’m asleep.”
“I know, I know, I didn’t mean it like that.” Roman sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you asking why I’ve been getting up earlier?”
“Yup.”
“It’s nothing bad, Virgil.”
“Never said it was.”
Roman sighs again, more dramatically this time, flouncing over to his desk, definitely not pouting. “Virgil…”
“What? If it’s not bad, why don’t you wanna tell me?” Virgil’s eyes widen. “Ooh, is it a secret? Are you keeping secrets, Roman?”
“Shut up!”
“No!” Virgil lobs a pillow at him. “Tell me!”
He ducks quickly when another one flies back at him.
“Hey!”
“You threw it first!”
“Yeah, and!”
“Gah!” Roman throws himself up out of his chair, trying to hide how red his face is. It’s not working. “What do you want?”
“I told you, Princey,” Virgil grins, “I want to know why you’re getting up earlier and why you don’t want to tell me.”
“Because I want to!”
“And why do you want to?”
“No,” Roman insists, pointing his finger at Virgil, “I told you, that’s what you wanted.”
“Giving me the vaguest answer that doesn’t actually answer the question is not an answer.”
Roman stares at him for a second. “We’ve said the word ‘answer’ too many times. It’s not a word anymore.”
“Pity.” Virgil shrugs. “Guess you’re gonna have to just tell me.”
“That’s not—how does—“ Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. “That is not how this words. Works.”
Virgil snickers.
“Shut up.”
“You’re so flustered, Princey. I haven’t seen you like this in ages.”
“Leave me alone, Virgil.”
The note of genuine irritation in Roman’s voice is enough to give Virgil pause. He slides off the bed and walks over to Roman, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels.
“You mean that, Roman?”
Roman looks at him from between his fingers, then looks away. “…no.”
“Okay.” He bumps Roman with his elbow. “Sit down, Princey.”
He winces when Roman lets his knees buckle and just collapses onto the floor.
“I didn’t—okay fine.” Listen, Virgil has no respect for ‘normal’ sitting places at the best of times. He sits next to Roman and watches the prince worry at the cuffs of his sleeves. “Roman, you gotta—you’re gonna fuck them up.”
“It’s fine,” Roman mutters absentmindedly, “I’ve done this before.”
“…not exactly reassuring me here, dude.”
“No, not—not this, I just meant the—my sleeves, they’re…they’re not…it’s fine.”
Virgil nods, frowning as Roman starts to fidget a little more.
“…Princey—“
“It’s Patton,” Roman blurts, his face flushing even brighter, “I—that’s why I’m waking up earlier.”
Something in Virgil’s chest twists.
“I figured,” he says instead, bumping Roman’s shoulder again, “you, uh, you had that look about you.”
“What look?”
Virgil tilts his head a bit. “You…you do know what you look like when you’re in love, don’t you Princey?”
If Roman’s eyes could go wider than when Virgil said he knew what was going on, well, they do.
“I—I’m—wait, what?”
“You’re romance, aren’t you?” The corner of Virgil’s mouth tugs upward. “Passion, desire, romance, all of that, right?”
“I am, but—“
“You—alright, I gotta figure out a way to say this without being sappy as shit,” Virgil grumbles, looking away for a moment. “Okay, uh—you’re—there’s no way to say this and not sound absolutely ridiculous, but um…your color’s red, right?”
Roman nods, still staring at him.
“You…your eyes turn red, Roman,” Virgil mumbles, “like…you know how cartoon people get like…hearts in their eyes?”
“I get literal heart-eyes?”
“Kind of?” Virgil waves his hand. “You just—you’re—your irises go red and like…sparkly.”
“They do?”
“Have you seriously never noticed?”
“No!” Roman looks like someone just told him Thomas got another Disney job or something. “I—oh my goodness, this is incredible! How can I see this!”
“Here’s a tip,” Virgil snickers as Roman’s cheeks start to color again, “next time you’re in the kitchen with Patton or something, look at yourself in the mirror or something reflective right after you look at him.”
“O-okay,” Roman mumbles, “okay, okay, I can do this, I can do this, I can do this—“
“Hey—“ Virgil prods him— “you’re supposed to be downstairs in ten minutes anyway, just go now.”
“Right!”
“And…he’s gone,” Virgil sighs, getting up and sinking back to his own room. He pulls on his headphones and turns up the music.
Had Roman…really never noticed his eyes did that? The dude’s had eyes for—well, as long as you have eyes for. Has he never looked at himself when he’s working before? Jeez, and here Virgil thought Roman was looking in a mirror every two seconds.
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s noticed something that none of the others did. But still, what with how…obvious Roman can be sometimes, had the others really never noticed this either?
As it turns out, the answer is yes, but also no.
They’re in the living room a few days later and Roman’s bouncing off the walls, as per usual, as Logan looks up every so often from his book, and Patton giggles. Virgil is decidedly not paying attention because of course he isn’t, curled up on the floor out of the way of Roman’s bouncing.
“Watch where you’re going,” Logan scolds when Roman almost brains himself on the banister, “you’ll hurt yourself.”
“Pfft,” Roman blusters, “I haven’t paid attention to a single thing in my entire life and I’ll be damned if I start now.”
Virgil snorts. Patton makes a vague noise of concern. Logan just sighs.
“Roman, you are clearly intelligent enough to demonstrate that you do pay attention to things.”
“I dunno,” Virgil says, “he didn’t notice his heart-eyes when he’s in love until I told him about them.”
Roman sticks his tongue out. Virgil sticks his out back. Then they notice that Logan and Patton are quiet.
“Guys?”
“Roman has what?” Logan closes his book. “I…I was also not aware of this.”
“Hah!” Roman points at Virgil. “See, it’s not just me!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
“Patton? Did you also know this?”
“Y-yeah,” Patton manages, his voice strangely quiet, “I mean, I knew about Roman’s eyes, but…doesn’t he have that all the time? Not just when he’s in love?”
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Roman freezes, his mouth opening and closing without making sounds. Logan looks quizzically back and forth between the two of them until Virgil clambers to his feet and knocks his elbow.
“C’mon, L, let’s go somewhere else.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Sure enough, after a few minutes of them walking away to give Roman and Patton some privacy, Logan makes a small ‘ah’ sound.
“Yeah,” Virgil sighs, “took them long enough.”
“I am pleased to say that this I did notice.”
“Right?”
“I mean it’s not like it isn’t obvious.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Honestly, did they believe we couldn’t see?”
“I don’t think they knew until like, ten seconds ago.”
“They truly are a bit oblivious, aren’t they?”
“Oh, hell yeah.”
Hey, you know how sickeningly adorable Patton and Roman are normally? You know how much more sickeningly adorable they got after this happened?
Great.
Now double that.
Now you have like, some idea of what Virgil’s going through.
Dates. Kisses. Flowers. Baking together. Sitting on top of each other. Whispers in the corner. Curled around a phone so tight they can’t tell whose legs are whose.
All.
The.
Time.
Is Virgil happy for them? Yes. Absolutely. Great for them. Is he also about to down a bottle of soy sauce to even out the amount of pure sugar he’s being forced to consume? Pass that salt factory over here, please, pronto. That’s probably why the feeling that twisted in his chest hasn’t gone away any.
“Seriously,” Virgil huffs to Logan after the two of them vanish from the kitchen, “Thomas is gonna have so many cavities.”
“That’s not how it works, Virgil.”
“But it fucking could be.”
“I must say I think this has had a…positive impact on Thomas,” Logan says instead, “that his heart and his ego are so…compatible.”
Virgil snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I suppose it makes sense.”
“Yeah, yeah, it makes sense. Right brain boys, we get it. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I’m drowning in a gallon of vanilla syrup every time I walk into a fucking room.”
“Alright, enough,” Logan says, giving Virgil a reprimanding look that’s just this side of too smiley to be effective, “I need more coffee.”
“Ooh, get me some too?”
“I have a better idea: why don’t you come with me?”
Virgil groans. “But that requires moving. And effort.”
“You have legs.”
“But—“ Virgil wriggles down into the nice little divot in the couch cushions— “comfy.”
Logan sighs, shaking his head in what might be fond exasperation. “Very well. Hold this.”
“Okay,” Virgil mutters, taking Logan’s empty coffee mug, “what are you—hey!”
Logan, because apparently none of them have noticed that he can apparently do this, simply tucks Virgil under his arm like a sack of potatoes, conveniently ignoring the fact that Virgil is, you know, a fucking heavy-ass person, and walks off toward the kitchen like this is absolutely fucking normal.
“Do I even weigh anything to you?”
“Your weight is not insubstantial.”
Well, judging by the way Logan’s just walking, like a normal person, uh, it doesn’t seem like it.
“How—since when—what?”
“Articulate as always, Virgil,” Logan remarks, stride never faltering, “I do seek to maintain some level of physical fitness.”
“Some level of—Logan, you’re carrying me like it’s nothing!”
Logan glances down and raises an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”
Nope. Absolutely not. Not from this angle. Holy shit.
“No,” Virgil squeaks, “no, nope. I’m good. No problems.”
Logan hums and looks away, easily setting Virgil back on his feet once they get to the kitchen.
Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine right now. Everything’s so fine. Everything’s so fine and good right now in the way that it’s happening. It’s never not been fine. Virgil’s never been more fine in his fucking life.
Holy fuck.
Okay, so Virgil was not observant enough to pick that up the first time around—get it? No? Fuck you, that was funny—but he does start noticing it more often. How Logan can just sigh and pick up the couch to grab his pencil, or how he never balks at having to put away the really heavy dishes that Patton struggles with. It’s—okay. Yep, he can deal with this. Totally.
Virgil just sees a lot, okay?
Which means that he can see how Roman and Patton react when they first realize how strong Logan is.
Patton’s looking for something in the top of the cupboard, straining on his tiptoes. He sighs and starts to try and climb the counter.
“Patton!” Logan rushes into the kitchen past Virgil who sits back to watch the show. “Don’t do that, you know how dangerous it is.”
“I know, I know, but I can’t find the brown sugar, I think I pushed it back too far!”
“Just get the step stool, you know where it is.”
“But it takes so long to reorganize the closet to get it out,” Patton protests, “and I know where it is, it won’t take long.”
“We do need to fix that, don’t we?” Logan sighs. “Alright. You say you know where it is?”
“Yes! I can see it, I just can’t reach it.”
“Alright. Ready?”
“Ready for—oof!”
Patton squeals when Logan just…picks him up and holds him by the cupboard, clutching Logan’s arms like he’s going to fall.
“L-Logan!”
“Can you reach it?”
“Y-yeah, I can probably—oh my goodness, Lo, you’re strong!”
“I’m not going to drop you, Patton, just grab the sugar.”
“Okay, okay, I, um…” Patton fidgets, still clutching Logan’s hands. “Gosh!”
“Patton? The sugar?”
“R-right!” Patton pulls the bag of sugar out of the cupboard as Logan lowers him gently to the ground. “Wow, thanks, Logan!”
“Of course. Though we really must get the closet reorganized, the step stool does not good if we can’t easily access it…”
Virgil snickers as Logan goes off about the closet. He knows damn well Patton is not paying any attention to what he’s saying. He catches Virgil’s eyes and just mouths ‘wow!’
Virgil responds with a shrug of ‘what can you do?’
“Virgil?”
“What’s up, L?” He cranes his neck back to peer up at Logan.
“Patton has requested that we all come to stay in the kitchen,” Logan says, offering a hand to pull Virgil to his feet. Virgil briefly entertains the idea of making Logan pick him up again when he decides against it.
“Okay…?”
“Do you happen to know where Roman is,” Logan asks as he pulls Virgil up, “or no?”
“I think he’s in the Imagination?”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Then you may as well come with me. We’ll have a better chance of finding him.”
Virgil tips Patton a lazy two-fingered salute as they make their way up the stairs. Sure enough, the bright red door to the Imagination is ajar, and as Logan steps through, Virgil spots a castle, a briar garden, and many many cloud fortresses above.
“Well,” Logan huffs as Virgil closes the door, “he’s not running out of energy any time soon.”
“Good.”
“Quite.” Logan glances around. “Well, we’d better start looking.”
Virgil’s about to agree when he hears something whistling above him. He looks up and squints.
He takes two steps to the left.
“Virgil?” Logan turns around. “What’re you doing?”
In response, Virgil just points up.
Logan follows his finger, his expression changing from one of confusion to that familiar fond exasperation again. Virgil expects him to glance around for something soft, or squishy, or at the very least move out of the way.
Instead, Logan simply sighs, takes two steps closer, and holds out his arms…
…and catches Roman effortlessly in a princess carry.
“Hello, Roman,” Logan says like he didn’t just fucking do that, “Patton wants everyone downstairs.”
“I don’t think Roman’s got speech right now, L,” Virgil snickers.
Indeed, Roman—which, hang on, let’s preface this by saying this is a reasonable reaction, okay? Logan just fucking caught him after falling from god knows how high like he weighs less than a fucking pillow, this is not something that just happens—is staring open-mouthed at Logan, panting heavily, frozen in Logan’s arms. Logan tilts his head.
“Roman? Are you okay?”
Virgil snorts when Roman suddenly flails and tries to struggle out of Logan’s arms.
“Roman,” Logan says sternly and holy fuck, “if you want me to put you down I will, but if you do that you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Yep,” Roman squeaks, “you can—you can put me down, I can walk, you can put me down.”
“There we go.” Logan puts him down only for Roman to quickly brush himself off and dart toward the door. “Where are you going?”
“Patton! Downstairs! Forgot! Bye!”
“Well, he seems to be in a hurry,” Logan sighs, adjusting his glasses, only to frown at Virgil when Virgil just bursts out laughing. “What?”
“No, no, you gotta—holy shit!” Virgil doubles over, still cackling. “Oh my god, his face.”
“I don’t understand what’s so funny,” Logan says a moment later when Virgil’s wiping tears from his eyes, “did I do something wrong?”
The concerned question sobers Virgil, at least enough to stop dying. “No, no, L, you’re fine. Roman’s just…having a moment.”
“Because he forgot about Patton’s request,” Logan nods, “and does not wish to offend him.”
“…yeah, that’s it.”
“Well,” Logan says, dusting himself off, “let’s not be late too, hmm?”
“Sure, L.”
Logan might not know why Roman and Patton are muttering furiously to each other and spring apart the second they appear around the end of the stairs, but Virgil does. He just chuckles and winks and settles in to watch a dinner of the three of them being absolutely idiots.
It’s fine.
It’s so fine.
It’s probably because he was laughing so hard that his chest still hurts.
This lasts for like a week, and Virgil’s fucking face hurts from laughing at their fucking faces and trying to hide how hard he’s fucking laughing. And yeah okay Virgil’s in no position to judge, he’s got no idea how ridiculous he looked when he got jump scared by Logan’s freaky strength.
And it’s just not fucking fair because if it was Roman, they’d all expect it. He’d be sweeping them off their feet every two seconds and they’d be used to it by now. If it were Patton, he’d just pick them up and hug them and be the best dad ever and that would be great. But no, it’s Logan.
Logan who’s…Logan. Who can calm them all down better than anyone else but also has that sharp-as-hell tongue and quick wit that runs circles around them. Fuck. He’s just—gah.
Okay, at least Virgil’s not alone here. He’s seen Patton fumble through his words around a surprisingly patient Logan for ages now, and watched Roman stand way too close to Logan too. And yeah, okay, he’s seen the way Logan looks at them too.
So much so that he bites the bullet one day and sighs, tugging Logan out of the living room and to his room.
“Virgil? What’s going on?”
“What’s going on,” Virgil sighs, “is that if I have to look at you pining over them for one more second I am going to scream.”
Logan, to his credit, doesn’t try and deny it. Instead, he simply adjusts his tie and glasses, studiously avoiding Virgil’s gaze. “I suppose it really is that obvious.”
“To me, yeah, to those two, not so much.”
“I will get over this, I’m working on it.”
“God, no, L, that’s not what I—“ Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just talk to them, okay?”
“Are you certain? But you’d be…okay with this?”
Virgil levels a stare at him. “Dude, have you not seen how they look at you?”
“…no?”
“What is it like for you guys? It must be so boring.”
“I can assure you,” Logan says wryly, “I can see perfectly well.”
“Sure, Specs.”
“Alright, that’s enough.”
“Yeah, uh-huh. Sure.”
“Virgil!”
“No, no, I’m just saying it’s interesting that—“
“That’s enough.”
Virgil gulps. “Mhmm. Okay. Yep. Got it.”
He wisely does not go into the living room for the rest of the day.
There’s a lot Virgil sees. He sees the way Logan makes two extra mugs of coffee, sits just so on the couch, touches the small of Roman’s back or the crook of Patton’s shoulder. He sees the way Roman smiles when he looks at Patton the way he doesn’t smile any other time, wraps his arms tightly around Logan’s waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder, keeps his door cracked a little more than usual. He sees the way Patton fusses over the cookies, making sure they’ve always got Roman’s chips and Logan’s pretzels stocked, walks in the middle of the two of them with their hands swinging.
He sees a lot.
And, uh…he realizes something.
Remember that, uh, funny feeling in his chest that he totally thought was from somewhere else?
Listen, just because he sees a lot of stuff doesn’t mean he’s the best at recognizing it.
So yeah. He’s, uh…
You know.
Don’t make him say it.
As it turns out, that can make you blind to certain things. When he’s hyper-focusing on the things he knows he’s going to see, he doesn’t really have the space to realize there’s a whole host of things he doesn’t see.
He doesn’t see the way Patton’s smile drops when Virgil declines his invitation to movie night, saying he doesn’t wanna crash or invade. He doesn’t notice the way Roman makes a point to ask permission to hug Virgil too, cradling him with a tenderness he doesn’t notice that he’s only seen for the others. He doesn’t realize how much Logan’s behavior toward him is how Logan treats Roman and Patton now.
He doesn’t notice much past the ache in his chest.
Then he has a panic attack on their date night and the pain sharpens to an unbearable whine.
They’re not coming. They’re not coming. There’s no one here to help him, he’s alone, he’s always going to be alone, in the dark, in the shadows, away from the light. They’re not worrying about him, why would they? They’ve got each other, they don’t need him, they’ve never needed him, not like he needs them, he’s—he’s all alone, he doesn’t have anyone, no one wants him, he’s going to die like this. He’s alone. It’s cold. The cold is painful. His chest burns from how cold it is. He can’t breathe, it’s so cold.
“Virgil?”
No one is here, no one is coming.
“Roman, can you—?”
Something bangs in the distance.
“Virgil!”
Strong arms wrap around him and pull him into something warm. More strong arms cover his hands and gently pry them away from his face. Something soft rubs his face and strokes over his back.
“I need you to breathe with me, kiddo, come on…”
“We’re right here, Stormcloud, you just calm down now.”
“It’s okay, Virgil, everything is okay.”
They’re…here?
No, no, no, they’re not supposed to be here, it’s their date night, they—oh, god they’re missing their date night for him and he’s ruining it and they’re going to hate him now and—and—
“Shh, shh,” comes Logan’s voice from somewhere above him, “hush now, Virgil, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”
“You’re safe, sweetheart,” Patton coos, “I promise. You just sit with Logan for a minute, okay?”
“I’m—I’m so—sor—sorr—“
“None of that, shadowling,” Roman murmurs, brushing—wait, what?—brushing his lips over the back of Virgil’s shaking hand, “it’s not your fault.”
The ache in Virgil’s chest expands and collapses in on itself again.
Logan makes a comforting noise, tugging Virgil gently this way and that until he’s square in Logan’s arms, his head pillowed in the crook of Logan’s neck. Roman’s hand cards through his hair. Patton taps the 4-7-8 rhythm gently on his arm.
“Virgil, honey?” Patton reaches up to dab at his damp cheek when he mumbles a full apology. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” Virgil manages, “y-you can go now, ‘m sorry.”
Roman chuckles. “If you think we’re leaving you, little demon, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“B-but you—“
“Shh, shh,” Roman says quickly when Virgil’s breathing starts to pick up again, “take it easy, V, it’s okay, we’re not in a hurry.”
“It’s your date night,” Virgil blurts, the words clumsy and too loud in his mouth, “you—you shouldn’t have to be here. W-with—“
“…with,” Patton prompts gently, “with what, kiddo?”
“…with me.”
“Oh, kiddo…”
“If you think,” Roman says quietly, “that we’d rather be anywhere else than right here, with you, at any time, you’re sorely mistaken, V.”
Wait.
What?
“B-but we’re—you’re—I’m not—“
“Not what, kiddo?”
“…yours.”
Saying it out loud punctures his chest again. Tears well up in his eyes as he buries his face shamefully in Logan’s neck.
“…oh my god,” he hears Roman say faintly, “it happened!”
“But I thought we—we were being more obvious!”
“I know! I thought we were too! But this happened! It’s just like the stories, oh my goodness—“
“Oh, kiddo…”
Virgil can’t process any of that right now, thank you very much, because he’s currently hiding in Logan’s embrace and would rather never emerge again.
If he had, well, he may have been a little more prepared for Logan to cup his face with one hand and pull back enough to look him in the eyes.
“Virgil,” Logan whispers, “we thought you already were.”
Stop.
Wait.
Pause.
Go back.
Rewind.
“What?”
“Surely you’ve noticed, kiddo, haven’t you?” Patton squeezes his arm. “We love you, Virgil.”
“B-but—you—“
“Stormcloud,” Roman whispers, brushing his lips over Virgil’s cheek, “we do, and you’re ours as much as you’d like to be.”
“I—I—Logan—“
“Patton’s right,” Logan says, still cupping Virgil’s face as he wipes away stray tears, “to be honest, I….well, I thought you and I were in a relationship long before Patton and Roman.”
“You what?”
In response, Logan leans forward and kisses Virgil’s forehead.
“You don’t think I’d do that for just anyone,” he whispers, too quiet for the others to hear, “do you?”
Hello, yes, hi, Virgil has precisely zero idea what’s going on right now, so uh, if everyone could just hold the fuck on for two seconds it would be greatly appreciated.
“Aww, Left Brain boys!”
“Shh!”
Virgil isn’t interrupting date night.
The others care about him.
The others love him.
The others want him to be a part of their family.
Logan thought they were in a relationship already.
“Shh, shh,” Logan shushes, his thumb stroking Virgil’s shaking cheek, “you don’t have to say anything right now, darling. This is a lot, I’m sure.”
“Logan’s right.” Roman ruffles Virgil’s hair. “We’ll be here for you, Stormcloud.”
“And that’s a promise.”
Yeah, Virgil’s brain is way too fried by all of this to process any of it. But he does know that Roman’s hand in his hair is warm and soft and perfect. He knows that Patton’s murmuring something quietly that’s lulling him right to sleep. He knows that Logan is still holding him tightly, his lips pressed to his forehead, whispering how much they love him.
“Go to sleep, darling,” Logan whispers, “we’ll be here when you wake up.”
“…rude?”
“You’re not being rude, kiddo, promise.”
“Close your eyes,” Roman calls softly, his fingers scratching around Virgil’s head, “and you’ll see, Stormcloud.”
As Virgil’s eyes drift closed, maybe…maybe they’re right.
Maybe it’ll be a little easier to see that way.
General Taglist:
@frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @private-snippers @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @elizabutgayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @such-a-dumbass
If you want to be added/taken off the taglist please let me know! ^_^
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20 Questions: Writer’s Edition!
Thanks so much for the tag, @blitheringmcgonagall and @the-dream-team! 💙💙💙 I was really hoping to get to do this one lol
***
How many works do you have on AO3
300 (though I’ve yet to post 8 fics from my backlog there)
What’s your total AO3 word count?
1 281 330
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
Three. SessKag (Inuyasha), Jily (Harry Potter) and IchiRuki (Bleach)
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
If I did the REAL top 5 fics by Kudos it would be all SessKag and my answers overall are very SessKag heavy as is so I went with top 2 SessKag, top 2 Jily and top 1 IchiRuki instead.
1. Life After Loss
This was not the happily ever after Kagome had always dreamt about. This could not be happening to her, not after everything they had gone through... She never knew that her whole world could screech to a complete halt in a blink of an eye.
SessKag, M, Chapter Fic, 98k words
2. Stranger Than Fiction
The books have been all the craze recently, boasting an epic adventure set in the chaos of Sengoku Jidai. Kagome has steered clear from them; she has spent quite enough time dwelling in the past as is. However, when her roommate and a die-hard fan of the book series laments the latest plot twist, Kagome realises that the accursed books might be hitting even closer to home than she ever suspected.
SessKag, T, One Shot, 913 words
3. #Jily
Twitter seemed awash with the hashtag Jily. Lily blinked at in confusion, until she realised it was one of those silly couple monikers people had bestowed on her and Potter.
…Though there was a small dissenting crowd following a tweet from Potter’s bandmate Sirius Black: Jily? Hah! More like LAMES.
Jily, G, One Shot, 2,991 words
4. Much Tweeting About Crushing
James has a hopeless crush on his neighbour and tweets about it, which is fine. Until Evans follows him.
Jily, T, One Shot, 3,050 words
5. Miscalculation
Rukia planted her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers.
“I want my brother to think we’re dating so I can get him off my back.”
Ichigo scoffed at her.
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
IchiRuki, T, Two Shot, 1,820 words
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
Yes and no? 😅 For a long time I had a policy that I’d reply to comments if I had something more to say than just “thanks”.
Nowadays I reply to nearly every comment I get on AO3. I feel if the people bother to take the time to comment, the least I can do is thank them and I’ve made some friends in the comment section along the years too. But all that said... since I went on my hiatus I haven’t really been replying to my comments on Dokuga much, the clunky reply system there makes it feel like a big hassle which makes it feel draining. 😅
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
Hmm, Probably either Foil (SK) or Vagary (SK)?
... And I just realised Vagary is another one I never posted on AO3 argh when will the backlog end???
What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?
Probably Life After Loss, all things considered. 💙
Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?
I’ve never written proper crossover, i.e. characters from different series interacting but I’ve written crossover fusions i.e. charas from series 1 in the setting of series 2, such as Disney AUs etc.
The craziest one would be probably the SessKag Star Wars AU because I’m not a Star Wars fan and know very little of it but it was requested so... 🙈
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
I got Anon hate at one point from an anti-shipper on my IchiRuki fic on FFnet, it was wild. 🤣
And maybe not as far as hate but the notorious plot twist on Chain of Love (SK) was very much criticised to the point where even years later when I got a comment notification for Chain I would inwardly flinch. 😅
Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I don’t.
I have written and will write a sex scene if the story requires it (most recently in Do I Remind You Of Somewhere You Wanna Be, SK). But they are never explicit in nature, I’m not naming genitals or anything lol. The thing is, if I have to write sex I want to keep it... tasteful, for the lack of a better word. So a term like smut, with connotation to dirtiness would never apply to my writing.
(Back in the day, because I don’t write explicit scenes I did not consider my sex scenes “lemons” either. Which is why I’m still cackling about the fact that Chain once won the 1st place award for a best lemon scene.)
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Yes, I have. Chain was posted on Wattpad without my knowledge or permission. It is wild having to file a DMCA over a fanfic. 😂
Have you ever had a fic translated?
I have! Some of my SessKag one shots have been translated to Spanish, I believe!
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
I’ve tried, with a close IRL friend of mine, but as our attempts never got very far I wouldn’t say I really have. 😅
What’s your all time favorite ship?
Oof, that’s a tough one. Maybe IchiRuki?
What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
Probably the Bodyguard AU (JL) and the Shotgun AU (JL)? I love both of these stories a lot but I’m very much in the beginning with them and both are ideas I’ve had for years yet have never really been able to actively work on?
What are your writing strengths?
Hmm. I feel my writing style leans towards short and simple so it’s easily approachable? I think I’m pretty good with dialogue. Sometimes, I can do a lot with very few words. And I think I’m fairly good at slipping in little details or giving a sense of backstory, even if it’s a short one shot?
What are your writing weaknesses?
I suffer from a perpetual lack of motivation that I try to combat with having a writing routine. I’m slow to update because unless I’m inspired which never happens or am on a deadline crunch I am perfectly comfortable just adding 300-500 words to my WIP and calling it a day. I loathe editing so I rarely do much else than a cursory proofread before posting.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
My initial thought is why? 😂 I mean I guess I don’t mind but I feel using another language in the fic should be justified and done in moderation. Personally, I probably wouldn’t write dialogue in another language.
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Okay so the first fic I ever actually wrote/published was a 2nd gen arranged marriage fic for The Belgariad and The Malloreon, my favourite book series growing up. The fic, which fizzled out after 2 or so chapters, was deleted years ago lol
SessKag came second. 😉
What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?
*vaguely gestures at the 300+ fics* It’s pretty much impossible to choose among my children but if you put a gun to my head I’ll say Life After Loss.
Tagging: @drosselmeyerwrites @mythicamagic @sagemcmae @stormielikeweather @wbficaholic
#meme tag#writing meme#writing questions#chie: my fics#chie: on writing#This got so long but it was really fun!#long post
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Battle Scars - (1/?)
[A/N:] Haven’t been on this account in months, am quite sleep-deprived and I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Well, lunch now apparently. So before I lose the minimal courage I got, I’ll just drop this off here and hope it works! Don’t know when I might write the next part, might even not. Who knows. Mind’s wonky. This has been in my files for a long while, wrote it back when Guy Sebastian’s song Battle Scars got stuck in my head. Figured I might as well let it stop collecting dust. Also, considering I’ve never done this before, I don’t know how to properly tag.
If there’s tags I should put, ESPECIALLY if they’re tw tags, please do tell me.
[Summary:] The child of a general, the only survivor of a (frankly) unethical experiment, and the old college roommate of one Alexandra Danvers. Somehow all three of those things correlate with one another, not that you can remember at this point. You just want to live in the forest, forgetting the reasons for the scars that litter your body.
[Warning(s):] Reader’s thoughts get... dark. Somewhat. More depressing, I think. Some people horrifically mutate too, so there’s that. Again, if there should be warnings in the tags or here that I should put but didn’t, do tell me. What else... uh, this is approximately 11k words long? Maybe that deserves a warning all to itself. Is there a tag that explains “possibly turns you into a modern-day cave person living in forests to steal from humans and wrestle bears”? Possibly a spoiler, but hey, at least it means you read warnings, so congrats!
The first time you felt like you’d failed, was when you had to leave the first love of your life. It was the only scar that had no physical counterpart, but you’d felt the mind-numbing pain, nonetheless.
“You watch yourself, alright? I won’t be around to keep your head screwed on for you!”
“Yeah, yeah…”
You rolled your eyes, pointedly keeping your focus on shoving the remaining belongings you had into your duffle. You didn’t look at her. You couldn’t. You knew if you did, you’d break.
Silence fell over the room at your half-hearted response, the lack of noise almost making you regret not saying anything more in reply. And then…
“Do… Do you really have to go?”
‘Damn it.’
Alex’s words were shaky, barely louder than a whisper. The strained tinge in her voice urged you to look up from zipping up your bag, glancing over at the source.
Seated on your bed with her legs over the side, she sat hunched over as one of her legs anxiously shook up and down against the edge. Her hands were curled into fists between her knees, knuckles white as her forearms tensed from their placement on her thighs.
She looked so… small. Nervous. It wasn’t like her.
She was supposed to be Alex Danvers. A stubborn redhead that was tough-as-nails and was always up for drinking you under the table any day!
But you couldn’t blame her for not being herself. She was heartbroken, and so were you.
Though, it made you feel guilty that it was because of you that she looked so weak.
No, “weak” wasn’t the word.
Vulnerable…
Vulnerable seemed more fitting.
“I’m sorry.”
You looked away, but it didn’t last for long. You felt her tap your jaw; once, twice, then a third time. For you two, it was a universal sign that you needed to listen. That what would be said was important.
It was an action that would only take effect if done by the other, and no one else.
It could calm either of you from rage, or even help you fight the haze of drunkenness to be in some semblance of sober.
It was special. Meaningful.
Hence why your automatic reaction was to turn, to obey the silent request to face her.
“You’ll stay in touch, yeah?”
“…Yeah.”
Now you? You were weak. While the owner of your heart was devastated right in front of you, all you could offer for comfort was an unconvincing smile and a useless apology.
Her throat bobbed as she attempted to swallow back a sob, but the teary shine in her eyes gave her away.
Another surge of guilt struck your heart and made you avert your eyes elsewhere, anywhere, as long as they were not on her.
‘Look at what you’ve done.’
It was your fault. She didn’t even know why you were leaving so suddenly.
Your father had found out of your attraction to her, and needless to say, he didn’t take it lightly. A few strings pulled later, and you were being sent away to be “straightened out.” The thought almost made scoff during that particular conversation in his study, but you accepted the consequences anyway.
You should’ve been better.
You should’ve done better.
You didn’t protect her well enough.
The fault was none but yours… and the knife you felt in your heart would remind you for a long while to come.
~~~
The second time you felt like you’d failed, happened two years after that moment in your college dorm room.
It took months for that scar to start to heal, but you knew it would take years before it would even begin to fade.
You’d tried to keep in contact, but you had your life to live and so did she. Not to mention the day your father heard of the two of you still communicating, he pulled more strings to cut you off. It was too late, anyway. You’d already stopped talking by then.
But whether the silence was for the better or worse was up for debate.
Just the thought of her made your heart lurch, and actually interacting with her never failed to re-open that scar anew. The space, however agonizing, let the wound heal.
Yet that very same space was what let you drown yourself into your current occupation. In order to compensate for the agony, you let yourself fall deeper and deeper into your work. Though at this point, you were questioning if you should even call it that.
Unknown to her, a month into your time in the military, a general offered you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
You found it hard to believe. You weren’t stupid, you could read between the lines. You knew “opportunity” also meant “ulterior motive.”
He didn’t prove you wrong.
When you walked into the conference room you’d been instructed to enter, your eyes immediately fell to the only individual inside.
General Lane.
You knew three things about him. One, he had been your father’s best friend. Two, he had a palpable dislike for any and all alien life. Specifically, Superman. Three, whenever he began to rant, just smile, and nod.
It was only the two of you there, yet you couldn’t seem to find it in you to focus. Not after he uttered the words “military program.”
You already knew this wouldn’t end well.
Though you remained silent, your eyes having glazed over as the static in your ears prevented his words from reaching your brain, he continued to speak. You only managed to catch bits and pieces, but you got the gist.
They wanted to conduct an experiment and were looking for lab rats. They wanted you to be one.
You weren’t surprised they asked. To everyone else’s knowledge, you had no one left in your life but you. Your father made sure any links between you and Alex were cleanly severed, meaning any history between you two had been cleared. You had no family other than your parents, your mother having passed while you were still in your single digits, while your father had done the same just a week before this very meeting.
‘Tch… no love lost there.’
But, considering he was a respected figure and a close friend of the very same general right in front of you, you had to at least act as if his death affected you. Your father had always been one for appearances, so no one outside of the two of you (and Alex) knew just how estranged you’d been from the other. Because of this, luckily (or unluckily, depending on what way you view it), people took your indifferent poker face to be one of grief.
General Lane wanted to capitalize on that. On you.
You had military blood in you (because apparently that meant you were exactly like your father), you had a “reason” to go missing (grief, hah), and—as far as he was concerned—you had no close relations that would worry should you ever disappear (you… couldn’t really think of a quip to internalize there). You seemed like the perfect guinea pig.
“…We need heroes around here. Human heroes. Not those monsters who could fall to their instincts at the drop of a hat, or at the touch of some space rock—”
Again, it came with no surprise to you that extra-terrestrials were the main focus of said experiment.
You wanted to say no. Fuck, did you want to say no. You wanted no part in this blind hatred. But then…
“—They’re never here when we actually need them. A group of freaks like him are planning to go after National City to lure him out, and where is Superman? Frolicking off in space! The President had an entire clandestine organization made exactly for roach-connected situations like this, yet they don’t even know—”
Your blood ran cold, your hearing suddenly becoming clear as your eyes bore into his.
National City.
Of all the places, they had to go there. You didn’t give it a second thought. You didn’t have to.
“I’ll do it.”
.
.
.
You had no idea what CADMUS was, just that they were collaborating with the U.S. Military to make you and forty-nine others into the ones that would “exterminate the roaches infesting the planet.”
Sounded more like “short-sighted discrimination with an unhealthy dash of xenophobia” than “rational thought for the human race” to you; but as long as you could protect Alex, you didn’t care how much of the mindless drivel you had to sit through.
You didn’t count how many times you found yourself strapped to a metal bed, or how many times you found a needle being stuck into you. Rather, you couldn’t. More than half the time, whatever they put into your bloodstream always made you feel woozy. Enough to make you practically perpetually confused.
Any recollection of your experiences during the experimentation were impossible to stir, and after seeing that one woman’s all-too-amused smirk a few too many times, you were convinced that it had been on purpose.
Before you knew it, another month had passed. Not that you would’ve realized it yourself. Your best guess would’ve been a week, if it weren’t for the woman General Lane had assigned to you telling you otherwise.
She was about your age, maybe a month or so younger. Lucia was her name if you remembered correctly. She’d been left by him to keep an eye on you, or to “keep you sane” as she worded so eloquently.
She was the first person you saw the moment you could properly think again. Her calming presence was a breath of fresh air, and for a moment, everything felt… nice.
Until a soldier barged through the door of your allocated resting area, screaming about an attack.
Time seemed to blur once again, and the next thing you knew, you were in the middle of a war zone. A mile or two from some desert base in the middle of nowhere.
Only you and the rest of the fifty who had been volunteered for the Eradication Program had been deployed. You wished you hadn’t been. The others were bloodthirsty, tearing through the opposition the moment they were ordered to. You, however, chose to take a step back and analyse the enemy.
Most of the “opposing force” looked to be human, not alien. None of them seemed hostile, either. Well… until they were provoked, that is. The human-like members of their group—who you’re sure actually were human—were being protected by their definitely-alien comrades, clearly not trained for combat or any attack whatsoever. In fact, if their attire was anything to go by, they all worked in what could be considered “support” occupations. Engineers, researchers, varying members of medical staff… not one of them appeared to be soldiers.
What was General Lane not telling you?
Were you really protecting National City?
…Were you even in National City?
You felt your comms crackle in your ears, said general’s voice screeching, “What the HELL are you doing?! Move your ass, Six!”
Right. Soldier Six, your call sign. Simply because you were the sixth one to wake up.
How original.
You huffed, and in retaliation to the general’s orders, you tore the device out of your ear and threw it as far as you could over your shoulder.
Because frankly, you didn’t want to. Not when you’d been pit against wrongly identified “hostiles.”
Despite your stubbornness to keep your feet rooted to your spot, soon enough, you didn’t have the privilege of choosing to abstain.
The other “volunteers”—all forty-nine of them—began to stop and convulse. Their flesh rippled beneath their skin, muscles expanding and contracting in an obscene manner.
Something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.
Each and every one of them mutated appallingly right before your very eyes, all of them attaining a different level of horrendous to another. Some grew limbs, some lost them. Others had extra eyes while a handful had one left or none at all. A few had their nails elongate into claws, others had a tailbone that whipped its way through the air. More than half had lost the colours of their irises—no, not just the colour. The pupils and irises themselves disappeared completely. It was a horrific spectacle to behold.
To call these things a shell of their former selves, would be insulting to the humans they used to be.
Was this going to happen to you?
You didn’t have much time for your thoughts. The one thing that didn’t change was the sheer amount of bloodthirst coursing through their veins. With the supposedly villainous aliens already exhausted, they wouldn’t last a second round against the other volunteer—
‘…No,’ You shook your head, fists clenched tight, ‘Those aren’t the volunteers anymore.’
From what you could see, those men and women died the moment the experiments started. All you could do for them, was help them rest in peace.
And you doubt they’d be getting any rest with their bodies wreaking havoc as these beasts.
Using the enhanced abilities you shared with the monstrosities, you slowly but surely took them out one by one.
They fought like animals.
Yet no matter how many times they slashed at your body, no matter how many times they lunged for your head, nor how many times they made you bleed, you continued to end every single one of them. You didn’t want any of them to suffer longer than they already have.
As with most things nowadays, in your eyes, the details were nothing but a blur. Everything felt… vague. Flashes of claws, bones, and agonizing pain run through your mind, yet no instance remained distinct for more than a second.
…Was this a symptom? Of the experiment, or the transformation?
Fear of the truth made you falter, and a skeletal tail surging straight through your right thigh forced your focus to return. But then so too would the questions, along with the subsequent terror, until another wound started the cycle another time. Again and again, until after what felt like an eternity, the last of them finally fell with an inhuman screech. It was done. But at what cost?
You surveyed your battleground, heart heavy and clenched in an icy grip. You couldn’t protect them, save them. Any of them.
A mighty hack then reverberated through the painfully silent air and caused you to flinch. Your head snapped up to turn to its direction, your feet already making their way over. You’d thoughtlessly skidded onto your knees, the coin-flip reaction bringing you to the survivor’s side. It was an alien.
Your eyes were wide in alarm, hands flittering around as your mind buzzed at what to do. There were so many injuries. Far too many for him to survive, alien or no. Your eyes met his, and your breath hitched in surprise. His irises didn’t scream anger or disgust like you expected. Instead, they were shining in wonder so innocent, it was almost childlike.
“You… Your body… did not… revolt?” the dying male grinned, placing a hand in yours to grip it in glee, “M-Miracle! It… I-It is m-miracle!”
For a moment, you were confused. Until you followed his gaze and watched as your body slowly stitched itself back together. One shallow cut in particular caught your attention, the damage slowly disappearing before your very eyes, leaving not a single blemish on your skin. You’d been so focused on fighting, that you didn’t even stop and wonder how you were still alive. After this day, there may not even be a single scar found.
At another bloody cough, newfound healing abilities were far from the forefront of your mind. Your vision blurred with tears, a sob escaping without your control. It was your fault. It was all your fault.
“Sorry…” You hadn’t spoken in so long, your voice harsh and throat sore, “I- I’m so sorry.”
He weakly shook his head, “B-Blame… not… on y-you. Deceived. We… We all… were…”
“W-What?”
With a wince, he forced his other arm to point to one of his fallen allies, a human researcher about a meter or so north of you.
“Necklace… take…” the light in his eyes was beginning to die, you could see it and he could feel it. Forcing a shaky smile, he murmured in his broken English, “Promise… y-you… not feel… guilty?”
“I…”
You knew you’d feel guilty.
You should, shouldn’t you? This was all your fault! You were careless and made a mistake once again. You didn’t see through the veil, you weren’t smart enough. You couldn’t stop the others, you weren’t quick enough.
You weren’t enough.
And just like before, people suffered because of it.
But… although he was on his last seconds of life, he looked at you so brightly. He was still so hopeful. How could you break such a wonderous being in his last moments?
You shook your head ‘no,’ lying, knowing this would be a wound that would last a long time to come. From the huff he gave, you felt like he knew that too.
Nonetheless, he coughed out, “P-Promise?”
You swallowed, feeling a fresh wave of hot tears cascading down your cheeks. With another lurch from your heavy heart, you gave him a nod and a shaky smile of your own, “I promise.”
His smile grew a fraction wider, “P… Pro… mise…”
His last breath left him, leaving the hand still in yours to fall, limp.
You were wrong earlier, there was a scar left behind.
The laceration you’d received from foolishly grabbing onto a tail, the one injury that had been obscured from your sight by his hold, had left a mark. You knew what it would be. A memento, of another time you’d failed. Of the first time your naivety took the life of another. You let a sob escape your control.
And another…
And another…
For hours you stayed on the blood-soaked sand, the coarse particles dyed red with the proof of the violent loss of life. By the time you heard a chopper land meters away to analyse the aftermath, your tears had long since dried and the last remnants of your rampant emotions were now trapped deep within, leaving only your now-signature emotionless mask. Thankfully, they understood enough that your mind was stuck elsewhere and didn’t bother to get a mission report out of you.
They did, however, cheer at the averted “crisis.”
All except Lucia. It was a small comfort, but a comfort, nonetheless. Rather than cheering, she sat next to you, a consoling hand on your shoulder as she murmured apologies for wrongs not her own.
For a brief moment, you wondered why she was here. What her role was in all of this mess, how she got caught up in it…
But when the others’ voices drowned out Lucia’s and all you could hear was their excitement and joy, your thoughts were immediately overrun by pure rage. Your stare morphed into a glare as your eyes kept themselves glued to the carnage below, hand clutching the unseen necklace concealed by your dog tags.
You were the only one who survived.
You were the only success.
You were now a monster.
~~~
It was two years later after that, that the third occurrence happened.
Although you held a great amount of distrust for the U.S. Military, you never left their command. Foolishly, you stayed and did whatever they said. You went to where they told you you’d been needed. You fought who they told you to fight. You killed who they told you to kill.
All because of your own fear.
What if you were already transforming? What if your body was just one second away from fighting whatever gave you your powers? What if, the moment you left… you went berserk?
One “what if” after another festered in your mind, leading to you to forcibly suppress your own self and play their perfect little soldier, if only to keep your own body at bay should it ever run amok.
After all, they created you. The only ones who would know how to stop you would be them, right?
Besides, what would you even do once you left? They’d written the end of your life for you the moment you agreed to be a lab experiment.
Who would you have turned to?
Alex?
You scoffed at the thought. You said “yes” to help protect her, not drag her into the damn problem.
For a year and a half, you’d justified your stay with those thoughts, and for more than half of that time you let yourself be used as a mere weapon. It took you a year until you accepted the truth of your situation, and it wasn’t until roughly three months prior to your third failure that you finally let yourself see reason.
.
.
.
You sat up on your bunk, eyes on your hands, staring at blood that none but you could see. Sweat dripped from your brow, faint screams echoing in your eardrums, audible just beneath the vigorous beating of your heart.
‘I can’t keep this up…’ You released a shuddering breath, ‘How long will I have to keep this up?!’
Ever since that day in the desert, your nights were never peaceful, your sleep never serene. You’d long since gotten used to the endless screams of terror, the unending stream of unfamiliar faces contorting in woe. But what you hadn’t prepared for—what you never thought you’d ever need to prepare for—was for those faces to suddenly become familiar.
Alex had been petrified, the alien terrified, and Lucia… Lucia lay on the bloodied, black dirt, prone. Her face perpetually mortified. Even after you lurched forward in your bed and had left the realm of dreams, their suffering still danced in the shadows of your surroundings, the remnants of their frightened faces flashing in your eyes like some ghastly slideshow.
Their misery was because of you. You’d stumbled too deep into the haze, and by the time you came out, you had become what you feared the most. The cause of their torment.
‘What am I doing with my life?’
It was on that night that you truly accepted the reality of your situation. You had let your mind wander and, without realizing, let yourself function on autopilot for too long. It wasn’t until now, on this night—when you were terrorized by their screams—that you accepted that fact. But you felt it was already too late.
By mindlessly putting your life on the line, you had saved hundreds of lives—or so you were told. Yet for every life you saved, you knew there had been at least one you’d taken in return.
Your comrades rejoiced at your feats, and even a few of the higher-ups praised your work.
And yet…
Why did you feel nothing? Why did you feel out of place?
Why did you feel like you were doing something you weren’t meant to?
You’d been confused, very much so. For over a year, in fact. Your body felt ironically alien. Different. As if you’d been sleepwalking the past two years. Your memories, too, felt foreign. They were more like dreams than anything else.
No… “dream” was far too nice of a word.
Nightmare—like vulnerable—seemed more fitting.
Your recollection of the past two years was a mess. There were only a handful of distinct memories you could recall, and all were of them. Alex… the alien… and Lucia. The rest were all a hazy blur, a fever dream that kept you jumping from one horrific scene to another.
You didn’t even know who you’d been fighting the entire time. No one ever gave you a clear picture, only stating where you were needed and what had to be done. You vaguely remember a mix of terrified faces, both alien and human. What did they even do wrong?
Did they even do wrong?
It was then that reality truly sunk in. You already knew that you were a weapon, one for them to use however and whenever they saw fit. What was hardest to swallow was the fact that the blood you’d let yourself spill—blood you could’ve chosen not to spill—could very well have been those of innocents.
You buried your face into your knees, fingers threading through your hair and gripping your pounding skull. You felt your nails dig into your scalp.
Luckily for your tattered mental state, Lucia had been there to help anchor you back to reality.
She murmured lowly as she gently pried your fingers from your head, and though her words went through one ear and out the other, her voice alone soothed you. You found that she knew exactly what to do, and even let you bury your face into her shoulder as she cooed at you softly, her hands tenderly drawing calming patterns on your back.
You’d been so happy that she was there. It wasn’t until hours later, after both of you had passed out in emotional exhaustion, that you woke up and realized that she had always been there. You’d just been too stuck in your own mind to see her.
When she woke up, her eyes meeting yours, neither of you spoke a word. Yet you both knew your dynamic had shifted, the air between you different. It simply went unsaid.
It didn’t go unseen, however. Everyone knew how dangerous you were, and after a rookie’s idiotic mistake, knew how equally dangerous it was to make Lucia unhappy in any way.
(His shoulder wouldn’t shove into others the same way again, nor would his ego inflate with the chasm you’d left.)
Stupidly, despite the revelations of that night—perhaps even because of said revelations—you continued living under the government’s employ.
In your mind, it was no longer just for your fear, it was also for her sake. If you left, you knew she would do whatever it took to stay by your side, regardless of the danger. Even if you were to be hunted, experimented, or executed, she would stay. And none of those fates were any you would allow to befall her.
No matter the gruesome sights that looped in your mind like a film at some grisly theatre, you jumped into the fray again, and again, and again. Still as reckless. Still as unrelenting. Still as guilty.
Not a single complaint ever left your lips. You felt you deserved it. But more importantly, you felt you were protecting her.
She didn’t agree.
The topic had been the spark of many arguments between the two of you, one such case being…
“You can’t keep doing this—you can’t keep living like this!”
‘Tell me something I don’t know.’
You stayed silent, sat on your bed in your designated quarters. Your eyes were trained on her pacing form as you fiddled with the fresh bandages on your arms, replies only said in mind.
At this point, this scene was common. You’d gotten injured, she’d gotten frustrated, and you had the decency to listen. You knew Lucia wasn’t mad at you. Annoyed? Maybe. But not mad. Her anger was always directed at the same people, and never to you. She just hated to see you hurt.
‘Unfortunately, it’s an occupational haza—'
“—And don’t you say it’s an occupational hazard!”
Or… not?
Lucia stopped in her tracks, eyes boring into your own, “There are always ways to complete your missions without you ending up a bloody mess, but they don’t care about that, do they? As long as the mission is completed as soon as possible, they don’t give a damn. What if you never healed? What if you actually found something that would actually get you killed?”
You had no response for that.
“They don’t even know of the full extent of your powers—none of us do! They started sending you out the day after that desert! Yet here we are again… I don’t understand why we don’t just leave.”
You opened your mouth to speak for the first time, to remind her of the dangers of such a plan just as you always had in the past, when you felt your hairs stand on end. Someone was eavesdropping. Your glare flashed to the door, spotting an eye widen at your stare before rushing off. You’d rush after them, but you knew nothing could be done without arousing suspicion. This base was full soldiers, and thus witnesses. Unfortunately, it was also full of snitches.
You stood abruptly, causing Lucia to jerk in surprise. Her brow furrowed when she spotted the grim frown you now wore.
“We’re leaving. Now.”
She could only blink in shock, “Now?”
“Now.”
The conversation would’ve been seen as treason. Or, at best, the start of it. You needed to run.
She followed your unwavering stare to the door, the sight of its slight opening making the cogs in her mind connect the dots. Someone had heard, and were no doubt reporting you. Her shock melted into determination, “I’ve already got a bag of necessities packed in case of an emergency escape. Let’s go.”
Next thing you knew, you were both dashing through corridors, unfamiliar alarms blaring the moment you had retrieved her bag. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who had prepared for this eventuality.
Squad after squad were sent after you both, all made up of people you’d seen as comrades and allies not even an hour before. Any fondness you held for each of them, however, immediately dissipated the moment they aimed a gun even a meter in Lucia’s direction. With a growl, you tore through every single one of them, unabashed by their betrayed yells so long as her safety was assured.
But you’d made a mistake. You were focused too much on those aiming for her, that you forgot there were others targeting yourself. Lucia didn’t. Which is why she spotted the soldier pulling out a weapon from a case before you did.
It looked like a gun, but she knew it was different. She could feel that it was. When they overlooked her completely and aimed for you, she knew she was right. Without a second thought, she shoved you out of the way, just as the soldier pulled the trigger.
A bang echoed in your ears, then a pained scream and a thud.
Your heart dropped. She’d pushed you away. Because of her, the bullet only grazed your torso… before tearing straight through her own.
You fell to your knees, not sparing a glance away from Lucia even as you put a bullet straight through the head of the soldier responsible.
“You IDIOT! Why would you do that?! You know I would’ve survived it!”
Your eyes were panicked, breathing growing more erratic by the second as you attempted to staunch the blood flowing from her wound. There was so much blood… why was there so much blood?!
“No…” she shook her head, “You… You wouldn’t’ve. N-Not… Not this one.”
You could hear footsteps and voices growing closer. You ignored them.
“I always survive, it’s my THING!” You gritted your teeth, ignoring the tears leaving tracks down your cheeks, “Stop talking, would you?! You need all your damn energy!”
Lucia simply smiled, even as more of the coppery liquid slid down the side of her mouth, “Promise me… promise me you w-won’t blame yourself f-for this?”
Déjà vu. Taunting, agonizing, déjà vu.
“I… I…” more tears, and a sob. What ever happened to control? “…I can’t.”
Her smile didn’t waver, as if she expected your response. Instead, she lifted a hand to your cheek, thumb gently wiping a tear away, “I know what you’re thinking, and I know it’s hard f-for you t-to think otherwise, love… but this isn’t your fault. I chose to do this. Y-You couldn’t’ve done anything to stop me.”
“…” You shook your head in disbelief, feeling more blood seep through your fingers.
Why wouldn’t the bleeding stop?!
“C’mon, love. P-Please, look at me?”
“…”
You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to see her so accepting of her fate.
Yet you couldn’t help the confused furrow of your brows at her tapping your jaw, your focus immediately swivelling to her. Not on instinct, but in question, confusion, and slight betrayal. You’d never regretted telling her of your first love, of admitting that there were some things you could never forget. Until now.
“Th-There you are. I know it hurts, but you have t-to p-promise me, then you need to leave me.”
The familiar action had increased your pain tenfold, but her words had the panic in your eyes grow more intense, blood freezing in your veins.
‘No. NO. NononoNO—’ You looked away as you felt your body quake, the chill caused by her words making your limbs feel like lead, ‘Not you… anybody but you!’
You felt her tap your jaw again, but you didn’t look to her, preferring to stubbornly keep your eyes on your hands. You wouldn’t- You couldn’t.
“Please…” Lucia’s voice sounded so small, distant. Just like with the alien, you knew she was on her last breaths, and so did she, “L-Listen to me… they… now want you… gone. I-I know… it’s a lot to ask, but you have to leave me. Please. T-That bullet was meant f-for you—”
You couldn’t help but snap, “What bullet isn’t when I’m out on the field?!”
“N-No, love. T-They made it for you. T-To kill you…” she weakly shook her head, “I… I… s-saw it… wasn’t… normal.”
“Shit—SHIT! Why can’t I stop the god damn bleeding?!”
You hated that there were so many things that you couldn’t do. Why can’t you just do something—anything—right for once?!
As always, she knew where your mind was headed, “N-No matter… how little… y-you… think of yourself… I know y-you were meant… to be amazing. F-From the moment I… I saw you… I knew you’d be… a… a-a hero.”
“What kind of fucking hero can’t even save the person she loves?!” head hung low, you pulled your hands away from her wound, reluctantly accepting that it was futile, “What kind of useless hero am I?”
You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the other draping itself across her stomach. You shifted yourself closer, cautiously embracing the dying woman. Apology after apology left your mouth, your tears dripped down from your cheeks only to mix with her own.
“It’s not… your… fau…” her hand, now much weaker than it had been earlier, fell limply onto the arm you’d placed on her stomach. When her fingers lightly squeezed your forearm, you knew what she expected. You released your grip on her hip, linking your hand with hers, making her chuckle faintly, “I-It… theirs… y-y’hear me? N-Never fo… forget… ‘s wasn’t… fault…”
“I… I won’t…”
You knew you’d never forget this day… just as how you’d never forget where the fault would forever lay in your mind.
“L… Love you…” her eyes were fluttering shut, and at the tug of her hand, you knew what she wanted.
You leaned closer, your lips pressing on hers for the final time. Only a second later did her last breath leave her lungs, and with it, one more piece of your fragile heart.
You could only stare, hoping that she would open her eyes and fill the deafening silence. But she didn’t, and you had to accept that she never would. When your mind finally opened itself to the rest of the world, you could hear the soldiers. Their orders for you to back down… or, more specifically, his.
General Lane.
When you saw a glimpse of his face, everything turned red and screams replaced the buzzing in your ears. You could never remember much past their anguish.
All you knew was the gash on your torso healed, but the mark never faded.
~~~
Six months passed, and sleep was still a stranger. So were your mind and memories, but what else was new?
You had no idea where you were, you never did more than half the time. More often than not, you’d find yourself lost in thought, staring off at nothing as your finger lightly traced the scar hidden beneath your shirt. Sometimes you’d snap out of it, standing in the middle of an unfamiliar area. Occasionally, you’d stop yourself mid-step as you were walking or crossing the street.
Either way, people would be staring at you like you were insane. You couldn’t blame them, you felt like you were. That was fine, you never stayed in one area for long anyway.
For the past couple of months you’d been hopping from place to place, lingering only for three days at most. You didn’t have to do much to conceal your identity, considering the government already got rid of it for you. You did get yourself a new name, though.
Corazon.
Wasn’t exactly subtle to you, but it was better than Soldier Six and at least you could remember it.
How could you not, when your mistakes were always made by your soft heart?
You only wished that you had the ability to rid yourself of your emotions, then at least living would be somewhat bearable. You hated that even the smallest things could trigger your beating heart. It could’ve been a hair colour, a laugh, or just an oblivious pair holding hands, your heart wouldn’t fail to work with your fractured memories and remind you of what you’d lost.
You wished you could split the two, or at least rid yourself of one… maybe even both. You couldn’t think without feeling, nor feel without thinking. If you had no way to feel, no way to have a conscious thought, or both, then living a seemingly deathless life would be bearable. Sure, that sort of life isn’t one others would say is worth living, but neither is the one you are now.
The only thing keeping you away from finding a way to have that ‘plan’ to come into fruition, was the fact that—as far as you know—only the government could ‘help.’
You never wanted to make contact with those bastards again.
“Wha- HEY!”
At the indignant yell, you blinked yourself out of your stupor. Confused, you looked around.
You’d wandered into an alley. Huh.
Hearing a groan, you glanced down, spotting a boy who couldn’t’ve been any older than mid-teens. He was sat on the concrete, rubbing his forehead, having presumably fallen after colliding with you.
Then, you heard yelling.
You looked up and saw a group of men pointing and yelling unintelligibly at the boy at your feet. He sprang up and made a move to exit, only for your hand on his shoulder to stop him in his tracks. You felt his eyes on you, but yours never left the group stomping closer as they brandished their makeshift weapons in a supposedly threatening manner.
Hammers, nails in bats, metal pipes… generic, stereotypical, bad guy weapons. You saw a gun or two poking out from the waistbands of their pants, yet you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
When they stopped in front of you, they even puffed out their chests to make themselves look bigger. One of them stepped forward and grumbled with a voice made forcibly gruff, “You with this brat?”
“Pff,” You only shook your head in mirth. You’d heard of people like this in movies, but you never knew they actually existed.
His lips curled up into a snarl, “What’s so funny.”
“…” You smiled, tilted your head in faux innocence, and admitted clearly, “You.”
Predictably, your response infuriated him, and he launched himself towards you to attack.
Within a minute, him and his group were all unconscious, weapons—including their guns—left splintered and bent on the damp ground.
You grumbled, “Idiots.”
With another roll of your eyes, you spun on your heels and moved to leave the scene… only to face an overexcited fourteen-year-old.
“That was AWESOME!”
“!”
You blinked. You’d forgotten he was there. You watched, an eyebrow raised as he asked question after question, each going through one ear and out the other. Your mind didn’t register a single one, but from the rapid rate the words seemed to leave his lips, the number seemed endless.
Didn’t he need to breathe?
It was here that the boy lurched to a stop, his lungs lacking the air required to allow speech. You only blinked when he took in just a little too much oxygen. His overdramatic wheezing caused you to smirk and huff in mild amusement. His eyes darted to you at the noise, focusing on your mirth as he smacked a fist against his chest in an effort to abate his hacking.
“You…” he coughed again, “You don’t talk much, do you?”
You only offered a shrug in response. Considering past experience, human interaction wasn’t something you necessarily searched for. Generally, they all ended up morphing into some form of confrontation for you—or loss, but that was a thought hurriedly buried in the deepest recesses of your mind.
The boy wasn’t deterred by your silence. Instead, he seemed even more determined to fill the space with his own words. Again, most of them generally went through one ear and out the other.
“—I’m Lucas!”
Wait. Why was the kid telling you their name?
You still didn’t reply, but ‘Lucas’ didn’t seem fazed and continued, saying, “My friends call me Luke, though!”
He then scratched his head sheepishly, “Well… they would, if I had any.”
Head tilted in a questioning manner, your brow furrowed at his admission, movements that he managed to notice.
“Ah… well, nobody ever wants to be friends with the weird kid.”
You raised your eyebrow, and he pointed to the unconscious group at your feet as an explanation.
“Wouldn’t be the first time these guys went after me, and they don’t care whether I’m at school or not,” Lucas kicked away a stray can, giving the men an annoyed sneer, “Just that Dad ‘pays them back’ or something, I dunno. No one really wants to be caught up in a mess like this.”
You’d followed his gaze, staring at the people sprawled out on the dirty floor.
What were these guys, self-proclaimed tax collectors? Loan sharks? Wannabe gang members?
That last one seems to fit them to a T.
Your thoughts were interrupted by the loud growling of a stomach. And it wasn’t yours.
Shaking your head, you glanced back at Lucas, his face red in embarrassment. Without hesitation, you rooted through the pockets of a few of the men, forgoing their cards and instead pulled out handfuls of cash from their wallets.
You may already be considered a criminal by the U.S. Army, but you didn’t want more on your record than you already had. And you had standards.
You’d rather have “assault” and “pickpocketing” on that record over “not paying for fast food” any day. That last one just seems like a real shitty thing to be arrested over. Besides, you’d never steal from ordinary civilians… but you’d make exceptions for assholes.
You moved to leave the alley again, tousling Lucas’ hair as you went past. When you didn’t hear his footsteps following, you stopped at the entrance, sending another glance back towards his way you huffed at his stupefied expression before jerking your head in a gesture to follow. You couldn’t help but smile at his joyful expression, biting back a chuckle at his excited hopping at your side.
“Nice to meet you, Luke.”
.
.
.
Six more months passed, and after meeting Lucas, you haven’t left the town. You’d found out that he’d essentially raised himself. The kid’s mother was gone, and he didn’t know why. You met his father, and after that one meeting you knew he was useless. His debts weren’t even for necessities, just for his alcohol and gambling. Guy didn’t even seem to care that his son was the one suffering most from the consequences of his actions.
You were annoyed, but after witnessing him passed out in a bathtub, reaching over the edge to clutch at a toilet while a bottle of whiskey hung from his fingers, you knew he was a lost cause. Lucas knew it, too. Admitted that he’d known so for years.
You felt bad for the kid and did what you could to help. You kept those lackeys off his back. Got him clothes, food, school supplies if he needed them. You didn’t tell him where you got the money and he never asked, but considering how you’d initially met you assume he had a slight idea. You still didn’t talk much, and your attention span failed you at times, but he understood. He knew that you were at least trying.
At times he’d ask you for help with his homework, and you were convinced it caused you just as much grief as it did him. You could barely remember what happened months or a year before, let alone what you’d learnt over a decade ago.
You were a weapon, not a teacher. You could teach him how to kick ass with the best of them, but you didn’t know shit about literature or geography. Or whatever it was high schoolers learnt these days.
Even when you were working with the government, you didn’t have to know how to get around yourself. They just shipped you to the mission location and back, and that was that. You didn’t even know you got around now, considering how most of your time on the road was spent in your head.
You swear he only asked you to laugh at you. You’d try to intimidate him with a deadpan stare, but that only made the cheeky brat laugh louder. Your exasperation would fizzle out soon enough, his joy infectious. You found yourself feeling… happy. Normal. Like an average human. Something you never thought would be a near-unreachable standard.
But of course, as always, happiness in your life never lasted long.
You’d stopped moving. You stayed in one place for too long.
You’d focused too much on the present, that you forgot about the past you’d been running to escape. And so, it caught up.
You were running again. They were at your heels, this time. And you couldn’t just beat them into the ground.
Their weapons looked different. Their bullets hurt.
You didn’t want to believe that this was happening. Just this morning you’d been laughing with Lucas, pancake batter and syrup drizzled over your heads.
Now all you could hear were shouts and gunfire, blood dripping down a healing cut at your temple.
You wanted them to lose your tracks, but you knew how they worked. If you disappeared completely, they’d have to look for clues. Which would lead them to Lucas. Which was why you were leading them, herding them away like sheep to be as far away from the kid as possible. But it was not meant to be.
“Sis!”
The voice made electricity shoot up your spine, catching more than just your attention. You noticed a few soldiers turn to look his way as he ran towards you, even as you shook your head and urged him to turn back. He wouldn’t. You were family, how could he leave you behind?
“LUKE, RUN!”
…Was that your voice? Sometimes you’d forget what your voice sounded like, and not using it for weeks at a time definitely didn’t help your case.
He skidded meters away, eyeing the soldiers, his face conflicted, “But—”
You heard the crackling of their comms and spotted a few guns being pointed his way, one of them even pulled out a pin.
What the fuck was General Lane thinking?!
The kid was a civilian, not a criminal!
You sprinted over to Lucas, body shielding his within a second. You felt bullets pierce your back, easily tearing through the fabric of your clothing. You heard Lucas yelling for them to stop, but you knew they wouldn’t listen. You heard the tell-tale clinking of a grenade rolling on the concrete and you tightened your grip around him, eyes screwed shut. You heard the bellowed orders “TAKE COVER” and then…
Pain.
Searing, white-hot, pain was spreading on your back. You felt shrapnel enter your torso, the heat eating away at your skin. You forced yourself to endure the agony.
You were protecting him.
You repeated those four words in your mind like a mantra, mind clinging to them for a way to ground itself.
When you felt the dust settling, the ringing in your ears calming, you dared to open your eyes. And you wish you didn’t.
Despite your best efforts, Lucas had been hit. Twice. The projectiles had presumably ricocheted. Whether it was shrapnel or bullets, you didn’t know. All you knew was that he was wounded, and that you’ve failed once again.
“No…” You rasped out, tears obscuring your vision. Your throat hurt from disuse, but you continued to force the words out, “No… kid, not you too!”
“Hah,” Lucas laughed, not noticing the blood that came with the motion, “I’m… I… I didn’t e-expect to go like this. P-Pretty badass, huh?”
His eyes were beginning to flutter closed, the light in his eyes quickly dulling. Your breath hitched in your throat, and gritting your teeth, you muttered, “No, no… c’mon, eyes on me bud. Eyes on me!”
His head weakly flopped to the side as he grinned, teeth stained with blood, “S’okay… was meant t-to be gone in… in… that alley. Y’saved me… y’let me be happy… thank you.”
Lucas went limp. Just like that, he was gone. And so were you.
You didn’t flinch when the wounds on your back slowly stitched themselves back together, no doubt leaving a mark as every failure always did.
You didn’t resist when they forcefully yanked you away, uncaring that they had just taken the life of an innocent. The life of a child.
You felt someone forcefully lift your head, to which you muttered, “Kill me. Please.”
You didn’t speak any more after that, no matter how much they tried to get a reaction.
No… you wouldn’t do anything until you were either dead, or put face-to-face with the bastard you knew gave the order.
And as expected, they put him right where you wanted him.
You were back at the base, arid desert and all.
They’d seated you in a metal chair, one bolted down to the thick concrete beneath your feet. Your arms were forced to lie flush against its armrests, wrists cuffed into place.
You were in one of the interrogation rooms, metal walls to the front, back and the left. You weren’t fooled. You knew the wall to the right was a one-sided window. To know that there were people just watching you…
You felt like an animal.
It was only after General Lane stood across from you, after the only door leading in and out of the room clicked shut, that you even twitched. Your attention finally drifted up from the flimsy metal cuffs that they’d clamped around your wrists—not that they knew your strength had grown—and to the poor excuse of a man attempting to stand tall.
You glared at him, unabashedly showing the hatred burning within you. It made him swallow, despite the poker face he attempted to keep up. Your silent staring contest stretched on and on, his mouth repeatedly opening and closing in indecision. He wanted to speak, but had no idea what to say.
The people behind the window had plenty of words, though. You couldn’t catch all of them, but you managed to decipher a muffled few.
“Dad” was one. Which meant one of the people might’ve been his kid. Wouldn’t be implausible. Last time you paid attention to him, he had two. Girls, if your memory actually served you correct. And two of the voices you could hear were distinctly feminine.
“Our” was another, spoken with a lilt for emphasis before “Dad”, which meant both of his kids were there. If your first assumption was correct.
“Superman” was the last one you heard. It was the word that caused you the most grief. Why mention the “Man of Steel”? You remembered hearing someone rant about the Kryptonian, mentioning a possible relation between the hero and a journalist. One of General Lane’s kids was a journalist. That could pose a problem. If his kids really were on the other side of the glass, and Lucas’ info—
‘Luke.’
Any hesitation you had dissipated instantly. No matter what would become of you, you’d make this bastard pay. It was the least you could do.
Breaking away from the General’s stare, your eyes flashed to the window, cogs turning in your mind. Perhaps you could do worse than cause simple, physical, pain. You could expose him, have his children lose their faith in him. Even if they weren’t his children, they would be his soldiers. It could lead to questioning of his authority.
It was worth a shot. Besides, what did you have to lose?
“You killed him,” you snarled, “He was just a boy, but you killed him.”
You shot up from your seat. Rather, you shot up with your seat. The cuffs were still in place, but the bolts that held the seat down had lost their hold with a resounding crack.
General Lane jumped back in shock, the doorknob now jiggling as his soldiers desperately tried to come to his aid.
Without missing a beat, you tore your hands out of their restraints and pulled the long metal table that separated you two upwards, shoving it legs-first into where the door would be. The legs went right through the wall, the body of the table now blocking the entrance as well as the door itself.
‘That’s the front wall and entrance covered…’
With an audible growl, you turned back to the general, the man now scrambling back to push himself flat against a wall in fear. He was pointing a pistol at you, but you were undeterred.
You took a step, and he took a shot.
You took another, and he did the same.
You took a third, and the man emptied his gun into your torso.
You weren’t fazed, your fury burning too great for you to feel anything other than rage.
He looked like he was about to reply to your yell, but you cut him off before he could, snapping, “Your problem was with me. It always has been. There was no need for you to involve a civilian, let alone ordering your men to open fire!”
“I… I—”
“I wanted to live, so you tried to have me die. When I do want to die, you keep me alive. How much more do I have to suffer for you to be satisfied?! How much longer do I have to exist, for my wants to actually matter?!”
As you stomped closer towards him, you gripped the chair that had been meant for him and threw it across the room. The object formed a deep dent upon impact and rendered the back wall weak.
Releasing another growl, you lifted him up by the collar of his uniform, “How much lower are you going to fall, after murdering that poor boy? Is there even a bar lower for you to reach?!”
The general continued to ignore the futility of repeatedly pulling the trigger of his empty pistol, desperate for a way out. But without a miracle, he would never be able to escape.
Unfortunately, he got one. It came in the form of a Kryptonian, at that.
Superman broke through the dented wall, quick in separating you from the general. You felt your back smack against the one-sided window, the cool glass cracking beneath your flesh.
Oh, right. You hadn’t had the chance to change. Your shirt was still burnt at the back, the rest of your clothing tattered at the edges and your feet shoeless. Your state of dress seemed to come as a surprise to Superman, too. If the brief moment he took to observe his ‘opponent’ was any indication.
You glanced at the wall he’d used as an entrance. It wasn’t that much of a fall. It wouldn’t take much to heal if you got hurt. Ten seconds, at most.
Within a breath, you fearlessly leaped through the broken wall. You heard a choke of astonishment behind you as you did, but as much as you wanted to be amused by the alien, you recognized the threat he was to your freedom.
He was a goody-two-shoes. If he caught you, you’d just be locked up. And you’d be used as a lab rat or a weapon all over again. Never able to die.
You couldn’t let that happen.
You’d landed with a wince and a roll, a sickening crack shooting shocks up your left arm. You’d shaken off the pain, sprinting towards where you knew the weapons vault was. The rushing of wind reached your ears, indicating that the alien wasn’t far behind. Spotting the vault entrance straight ahead, you trusted your instincts and slid across the tile floor as if you were running a base. It worked.
Superman flew straight past you, and not expecting you to have sensed him coming, was going too fast to stop himself from crashing into the vault. Your eyes widened at the sight. You hadn’t predicted it either.
Hurriedly pushing yourself up to your feet, you’d rushed into the vault, mind flashing through the arsenal they had you use throughout the years. You’d known what they had in there, and one of them was definitely not good for a Super.
When you stepped foot into the vault, you were proven right. Superman was struggling to stand, green creeping its way through his veins.
“Shit…” without hesitation, you pulled him up. You wrapped his arm around your neck and dragged him out, uncaring of the guns pointed at you. You felt his questioning stare, and grumbled, “What.”
“Why?”
Such a simple question, made of only one word… yet the true nature of its complexity was beyond you. You shook your head. Not the time.
“Never wanted to kill anyone. Never wanted anyone dead, either…” You sighed, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Just wanted to be happy.”
Once you determined that he was at a safe enough distance, you promptly let him flop into the ground. You huffed at his comical “oof” before revealing the smoke grenade you had swiped from the vault. You pulled its pin, and as everyone’s vision began to be obscured, you muttered words only Superman could hear.
“Please, just leave me alone…”
~~~
You didn’t know if it was because of Superman’s influence, but you were. Left alone, that is. Then again, it might’ve been because you’d kept away from civilization as best as you could, staying in forests for as long as you were able.
For how long at this point? You weren’t sure. By the time you’d left him in the smoke, it had been five years since the dorm with Alex. Three since the experiment. One since Lucia. And... none since Luke.
With a shake of your head, their blurred faces and vague memories faded in an instant, the frown at the resurfacing thoughts of them quickly replaced with an easy-going smile.
The woods weren’t too bad.
The animals were surprisingly amicable, and you found an unfamiliar joy in jumping into lakes and rivers without any remorse. If you needed anything that couldn’t be provided naturally, the camp sites you’d managed to memorize the locations of were useful in that regard. Clothes, food, money…
You didn’t realize exactly how easy it was to steal from civilians until you weren’t one yourself.
Still... it should be troubling that you didn’t know how long you’d been living in the forests. Every day blurs together. You didn’t even know what forest you were living in. Or if you’d lived in more than one. Your memories continued to fracture, and due to lack of practice, you could feel your ability to speak and understand wavering.
Your memories…
Very few of them remained intact. You had a feeling that you had a part to play in it, intentional or not, considering that the ones you could remember seemed happy, and anything otherwise—anything that caused pain… either you got rid of them the second they came, or it made you retreat into the deepest recesses of your mind, never knowing how long you’d been in there the moment you returned to reality.
Could’ve been a few seconds, minutes, maybe even hours. It was partially why you’d lost track of how long you’d been living among the trees.
Every time you thought of your past, you were reminded of the burden that was carrying emotions. Of being human. It was roughly one month into living away from humans, that you accepted it was simpler to just ignore the fact that you had a life before this mess. That there had ever been happier times. If you couldn’t identify what was considered a ‘good’ memory, then you wouldn’t be sucked into the ‘bad’, right?
So you buried them. Even imagined little coffins for them and everything.
Part of you knows that it’s unhealthy. But that mindset is what led to those instances now being few and far in between—or, at least you hoped they were. Again, you didn’t really have a good sense of time.
But living was good. It was fun, not thinking of anything but what to do next. You could spend an entire day chasing after deer, or just climbing a tree. And do the same thing all over again tomorrow!
…It all sounds a bit boring now that you think about it. But oddly enough, the days were surprisingly fun. If you really wanted a thrill, all you had to do was start wrestling a bear! That was fun.
You were actually rushing away from one right now, teasingly dangling yourself from one branch of a tree to another, when you heard a scream. A female scream, and then… a crash.
While the noise terrified the bear, it only intrigued you, drawing you closer. Almost like a siren’s call.
You dropped down to the forest floor, tackling the bear in the process. After absentmindedly hauling it over your shoulder, you dashed through the treeline within seconds. Once out of the forest, you coughed as you blinked at the wreckage before you.
Two vehicles had collided roughly thirty meters away, the smoke billowing from the smouldering wreck making your lungs burn. What startled you more was the armed man holding a gun up to an injured, blonde woman twenty meters away from the crash.
You blinked at the man, who seemed to be talking the woman’s ears off. Rather, what was the word… monologuing? Yeah. Monologuing.
His cocky grin made you roll your eyes, the action leading to you noticing the bear’s presence on your shoulder. An idea struck. Your eyes narrowed at the man, before glancing over to the bear. The man. The bear. The man…
“BEAR!”
You gleefully yelled, startling them both. But what brought complete horror upon both humans, was the fact that there was now a bear hurtling towards them. Correction, towards the man.
He dropped like a rock, him and the bear both did. Whereas the poor, unharmed-yet-traumatised fuzzy animal quickly scrambled to its feet before sprinting back into the woods, the effectively disarmed male stayed flat on the concrete, out cold.
Tilting your head to the side, you walked up to the unconscious human, your brows furrowing as you wondered why he wasn’t moving.
You sniffed and rubbed at your itching nose, wincing at the horrible stench of roasting rubber. You couldn’t tell if the blood you smelt came from the wounds after the crash, or after the bear.
You gave him a light tap of a foot, checking if he’d wake up anytime soon. When the man didn’t budge, you shrugged and turned to go back to the forest, only to freeze when you were startled by the female he’d been threatening. You’d forgotten she was there, and the woman was far closer than you remembered her to be.
She looked stunned.
Her hands were hovering by her cheeks, palms over her mouth, tears brimming in her eyes as she muttered… a name? It sounded familiar. You didn’t know why. You tilted your head, confused.
“You…” she sobbed, tears now flowing freely. She stammered out, “You don’t remember, do you?”
Who was this woman?
Cautiously, you shook your head. Your was body tense, knees bent and ready to escape if you needed to.
“Nothing? It’s me, Eliza,” another shake of your head. She sniffled, “Eliza Danvers? One of my daughters brought you over for Thanksgiving a few times, you were like a part of our family, before… before… you disappeared.”
Danvers.
You didn’t hear anything past that, the word—name?—had a tremor course through your skull. That was… worrying? It should be worrying, right?
Your hands flashed to your aching temples, gritting your teeth, you croaked out, “D-Dan… Danvers?”
You hadn’t said anything in months. Your throat was probably as painful to use as your voice was to hear.
Eliza’s eyes shined brighter in realization. You were remembering.
“Yes, Danvers! Do you… Do you remember my daughter? She’d been your closest friend. Alex, Alexandra Danvers—”
Static was all you could hear. You dropped to your knees, the pain growing more unbearable the more she spoke. You barely felt the gravel of the road digging into your knees.
Alex?
Alex.
Who was—
“No… Don’t!”
That was… you? Why was this hurting so much? What was going on?
Why didn’t you want to remember?
You felt hands on your shoulders, desperately trying to… to what? Snap you out? Of what? Pain? You didn’t even know why it came up, let alone how to stop it!
Then… then a chill. One you haven’t felt since you encountered… someone. You couldn’t remember them, either.
All you could hear were your instincts.
Instincts…
Your instincts were screaming, frantic in wanting you to leave. To escape.
So you followed them.
Shrugging Eliza’s hands off of your shoulders, you jumped to your feet and swiftly fled into the woods, not turning back once. Not even when you heard her scream a name—yours?—and especially not when you heard the tell-tale swoosh of… a cape? You didn’t know.
Your thoughts made no sense right now. All you wanted was to go back and forget. To go back into the woods and be happy.
Just… be happy.
#Alex Danvers#Reader#x Reader#F!Reader#x F!Reader#Alex Danvers x Reader#Supergirl#Supergirl Fanfic#Supergirl Fic#Eliza Danvers#tw depressing thoughts#tw depressing stuff#tw depressive#tw depression#tw body horror#tw body modification#tw body parts#tw human experimentation
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Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair - Review2002
Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair is a sequel to Danganronpa that focuses on a new cast that, this time around, is trapped on a tropical island. The game is an improvement when it comes to writing, mechanics (mostly), characters, and executing own premise. It’s pretty much a perfect sequel that is a genuinely good game.
Like in the first game, we have a set of cases where one of participants of the killing game commits murder and tries to frame somebody else for their crime. This time around, our main character is Hajime Hinata, who doesn’t remember his own Ultimate Talent. Hajime is much better main character than Makoto, not just because of an intriguing mystery about him, but also because of being a better character with a better story. Sure, since Makoto was a painfully generic goodie-goodie, it isn’t saying much. And, Hajime isn’t really an outstanding character. But he is relatable, sympathetic, and funny, as the only sane man in the cast. He does a good job as a protagonist, while going through his own journey. He actually experiences far more hardship and Despair™ than Makoto did in his game. Which is why, at the end, you really want the guy to overcome it.
The gameplay also has improved, mostly. I like new blue statements in the Nonstop Debate. I like new trial minigames, though Rebuttal Showdown is more a neat idea than a good execution (you can’t really focus on what the characters are saying). I like that now, from the start, there is some logic element in the rhythm minigame. The so-called Improved Hangman’s Gambit is an overcomplex crap, though.
Outside of trials, the game also has improved acquiring new skills. Now you gather skill points from Free Time events, and you can spend them on buying available skills from a list. You can also unlock characters’ skills, by maxing out their Free Time events. It’s a much better system that gives you more control over gaining new skills. And you also have more control when it comes to getting presents, as you can buy few from a vendor machine, or spend coins on rolling random ones. Acquiring coins is also improved. Now you don’t need to examine same locations all over again, you just hunt hidden Monokumas. You can also get coins from taking care of Tamagotchi.
Music is pretty much the same, with just few new tracks. Island is much more interesting environment than the school. Direction is also more interesting during the trials. And also, we have better characters, but I will elaborate on that later on. There is still meme writing with hope and despair, but it is twisted into something far more interesting.
There are flaws, tho. I say that finale, while it had great last third, was exposition-heavy and also was relying on pretty heavy retcons. The world lore is expanded on, but is pretty unimpressive. But I still say - it’s a good game. A ridiculously animu edgy shonen that relies on selling underage waifus and a shock value, which can be not to your tastes, but a good one. The previous game was just fun, which means that you could enjoy it despite its flaws. The sequel fixes quite a lot of flaws, and also improves its strengths. And one of such strengths is its set up that allows to experience brutal treatment of likable kids. Yeah, the kids actually earn that they can be called likable, this time around.
It is an 8/10 game, even though I maybe should have given it a half point lower. I enjoyed it a lot more than the original, and also was more moved by it. I think that sequels that strive to improve the series deserve recognition.
But now, to expand on my review, I’m going to tell more why Danganronpa 2 gives us better cast than the first game, and why it is such a good sequel. In the spoiler section, I’ll be focusing on the new, much better, villain, and expand my thoughts on the game’s finale. So, let’s start with the characters…
Prepare them likable before the slaughter
In this game Danganronpa finds its strength as a series, which lies in its set up that allows building up likable characters, before brutally killing them off. While the new cast is still is mostly a bunch of two dimensional ridiculous stereotypes, they are more likable and useful to the player. Because they actually try to be.
The first cast wasn’t really good at giving us reasons to like or respect them, with two or three exceptions. Especially if you didn’t happen to make free time events with them. Most treated Makoto like a pushover (albeit deservingly), or plainly neutral at best. The motives, while understandable, were just realistically understandable, not sympathetic. Most of those that didn’t end up being killers still mostly focused on self-survival than improving anybody’s else situation. It wasn’t a group of people you’d be happy to live with, let alone be locked with. It wasn’t even much of a group. Even in the final case, after everything that survivors went through, Monokuma still could make them turn against one another with a rather unimpressive trick. While it’s realistic that kids in such situation would be self-centered, even if they didn’t end up becoming killers, such characters’ deaths rather can’t make you feel devastated. Not you can feel glad over their survival. Even if you happened to like their personalities, which is subjective anyway.
Hajime has better relationships with his cast. Only Fuyuhiko and Hiyoko (after her personality has shifted from killer of little animals into a foulmouthed shortie) ever treated him like crap, but they were like that towards everyone. And one of them had proper character development. Everyone else was neutral towards Hajime at worst, not best. One character has noticed Hajime’s reliability, and asked him for help with keeping security of others. Other character wanted to watch girls on the beach with him. I also don’t remember the first cast to mourn the deceased ones as much as the second cast does. Neither I remember them trying much to be supportive to those that were feeling down. The motives that are meant to be understandable are also more sympathetic, so even the killers are more likable.
And the usefulness? Let’s do a spoiler-free comparison of both first cases. In the first game, everyone, but one person, falls for the set up that framed Makoto. During the investigation, aside from the most reliable person in the cast, nobody really was much of any help, excluding one person witnessing something helpful. During the trial, Makoto had just one ally to count on, until he managed to clear himself from wrongful suspicion. But even afterwards, the trial was still carried by just two people. It doesn’t help the mystery wasn’t really complex.
The second game? The situation isn’t better just because nobody is wrongfully accusing Hajime. Excluding the two smartest characters in the cast, three Ultimates use their talents during the investigation, and each provides us with useful information. There are also two others that were screwing around, but still accidentally allowed us to learn something of use. During the trial, everyone tried to be involved, and just one character was briefly idiotic about it. Other than that, mistakes happened, but they were understandable due to the crime’s complexity.
The difference in the first impression is pretty self-evident, and that was just the start. Needless to say, 2nd game’s emotional peak is higher than the 1st game’s. Actually, more disturbing and sad things are happening in the 2nd game. And that’s where Danganronpa can shine. While this game can turn people off for being a ridiculous animu nonsense, when you get past that, you do get likable and pretty useful characters that experience terrible things. This is what this series has to offer, with the writers realizing that in their second game. Because, let’s face it, most of the first game’s cast were either caricatures, or had no proper chance to shine.
But this game isn’t just what the first game should have been. It is also what its sequel should be.
How to sequel
There are three kinds of sequel: betrayals, cash-ins, and genuinely good ones. Danganronpa 2 is the last one. An example of a cash-in sequel is second Ace Attorney game, Ace Attorney: Justice For All, which is my least favorite game in the series.
JFA is pretty much everything you’d expect from an Ace Attorney sequel, and that’s simply not good enough. While it’s always nice to be able to follow the story further, long-runners are popular for a reason, good sequels are more than that. They are supposed to do more than just deliver another set of cases that are rather similar to the previous game. They are supposed to give us a better rival than just watered down amalgam of previous ones, but with boobs and a whip. Expansions are more of the same, sequels are meant to have a game-changing aspect to them. And it’s not supposed to be only used as the final case’s main gimmick. An example of good sequel is Virtue Last Reward, because it uses the concept introduced as a final twist of 999, as the core element of the game. Even Zero Time Dilemma, the disappointing finale of the trilogy, does add an interesting twist to said concept.
Danganronpa 2 is a good sequel because it improves a lot from the previous entry. The main character actually has an interesting story that isn’t just “an optimistic guy tries to remain optimistic, so he does”. A new setting allows for more different murder mystery set-ups. Ultimate Talents are frequently used during crimes and investigations. And, like I’ve said earlier, many game mechanics are improved. And there is also a game-changer.
Years before Among Us becoming popular, I was playing with my friends Battlestar Galactica board game, which is also about managing a space ship with a traitor, known as Cylon, among us (hah). In a way, Danganronpa series is similar to those games, with a killer being a hidden withing the group traitor, that will doom everyone, if remains undetected. Anyway, an expansion to Battlestar added new characters, new environment, and also a game-changer – Cylon Leader, a character that is a known Cylon, but at the same time may be not, due to own mysterious agenda. While regular Cylon players wins when Battlestar Galactica is destroyed, and human players win when they reach their destination, Cylon Leader player was a wild card. At the start of the game, Cylon Leader randomly draws its own secret victory condition. And it not only could go either way, but also had special requirements. A Cylon Leader could want Cylons to win, but only after specific game phase. A Cylon Leader could want humans to win, but only after specific losses of resources. Other players didn’t know Cylon Leader’s exact agenda, only that he could shift sides depending on situation.
That being said, Cylon Leader was a controversial addition to the game, and not every fan liked it. But regardless, it was a game-changer. Which is what Danganronpa 2 offer, by quickly introducing its own Cylon Leader. But that’s for the spoiler section.
The superiority of Hope Man over Despair Thot
Nagito Komaeda is a superior villain to Junko, and this is simply an objective fact. Like you could tell from previous paragraph, he is this game’s Cylon Leader.
When I started the sequel, I’ve already been spoiled that Nagito is a psycho. What I expected was him being the sequel’s hidden in the plain sight Junko, a nice guy that befriends us just to be revealed as the mastermind in the finale. Well, I was wrong about that. In the very first case, Nagito tries to kill somebody, but this is all part of his plan to drive somebody else to murder, because he has no interest in his own survival. The killer was executed, but Nagito remained, declaring own readiness to aid anybody who wants to kill him and escape, at the cost of everyone else. And this put the new cast in a situation the old cast never was.
Some people say that Nagito has Byakuya‘s role from the previous game. But Byakuya was just openly outspoken about wanting to accomplish what every other killer wanted, until he was hit with character development, before delivering anything as an antagonist. Fuyuhiko is more similar to Byakuya. Meanwhile, Nagito delivers, first early, and then later on, after his character development goes wrong, orchestrating the most twisted and personally devastating crime in both games. He successfully forces us to sacrifice the Ultimate Gamer Waifu, how can you get more personal than that?!
But doing twisted and devastating stuff is what Junko is all about, so what makes Nagito better? First of all, even though he has literal good luck superpower, he doesn’t pull things out of his ass. Nagito doesn’t have Junko’s unexplained endless resources, he just finds opportunities in what is available to everyone. Even in case 5, where he has ton of crazy tools, we know that he obtained them during case 4.
Nagito also does have his twisted philosophy. For Pate’s sake, Junko herself admits that causing despair is nothing more than main characteristic of her one-dimensional character. He also does have a past (if you complete his Free Time event), even if it is the Joker-style multiple choices of past. Maybe he lied to Hajime about being terminally ill. Maybe he lied about lying, to motivate Hajime into killing him and escaping. The game never tell us, and this makes it more fascinating.
There are also opinions that Nagito ultimately plays into hand of Junko, nearly delivering her 15 bodies to control. I don’t agree with that. In the event of Chiaki being the sole survivor of her trial, she wouldn’t have a reason nor intention to graduate and allow Junko to take over bodies of the deceased. Neither Makoto and co. would have a reason anymore to risk themselves getting trapped in virtual world. Wrong and twisted as it was, Nagito plan would’ve neutralized Junko, forever trapping her with Chiaki in her virtual prison.
In the end, Nagito is a highly dangerous enemy, a highly useful ally, and a highly unpredictable wild card. He is an interesting character and he actively makes the game more interesting. Did I mention the sequel has Junko again and it is same old, same old? Ok, Junko/Monokum is slightly better now, but she still has many of her old issues.
The good and bad things about the finale
Overall, I liked the finale better than the first game’s, but it had some issues. One problem is that the investigation is an lazy exposition dumb. The first game was better at handling its revelations during its final investigation, as we were receiving more vague clues, not fucking walls of text. Not to mention, there were emotional moments, like Kyoko visiting her father’s office. Here, we are hit with a wall of text after wall of text, and there isn’t any meaningful scene. The only exception was meeting Alter Ego and receiving message from Makoto, but that was it. And those weren’t really strong scenes. The final investigation of the first game did much better job at handling its reveals. Even the final trial was better in the original, until the confrontation with Junko.
Also, retcons. The sequel wants us to believe that Junko, who was easily defeated, was constantly screwing herself over, and whose successes at driving people to murder were more attributed to weak opposition than anything, was the one responsible for the world’s collapse. When I played the first game, I saw Junko as a part of Ultimate Despair, whose task was to infiltrate Hope Peak Academy and broadcast a killing game to lure the groups’ opposition. A high and mighty Doctor No that only works for SPECTRE. But her being a manipulative genius that has turned the entire cast into her devotes? Have you seen her doing that in the first game? Where she could left Aoi devastated and resentful towards everyone, after the 4th trial, but she blew it so hard that fucking Byakuya had a change of heart? Where she was ultimately beaten by Makoto like it was nothing? Please.
That being said, Junko/Monokuma are better in this. Because the game is set in simulation, there is no problem with Junko being able to do whatever. Because the cast has stronger morality than the previous one, she does have to be more cunning with driving them to murder. Junko also sticks better to the rules, even if she is forced to. Her plan and the final dilemma she has for the cast is also actually a good one. But that actually wasn’t Junko anyway, just Junko-based Alter Ego. If I was writing this, I wouldn’t try to retcon a turd villain into something she never had been, I’d just state that Hajime/Izuru was behind everything in the first game and he has used Alter Ego to recreate Junko and lure Makoto and co.
One last complaint about the finale I have is that they retcon Kyoko’s father into a doctor Mengele, without her even reacting to it. The twist itself with the Academy fucking over Hajime was good, but they shouldn’t just carelessly (and without noticing it) turn a character that wasn’t evil, but good-intentional albeit flawed, into a monster that was experimenting on children. Or, at best, a detective family’s failure that had no idea what was happening in the Academy he was running.
After all that complaining, what is good about the finale? Well, things have slowly picked up since it was revealed that Monokuma/Junko wanted the cast to graduate. Everything related to Hajime was also good. The dude really went through a lot, starting from doubts about his lost talent and Nagito’s betrayal, through the revelation that he never had any talent and the loss of Chiaki, up to learning that the Academy has altered his very identity. The idea of everyone from the cast being part of Ultimate Despair was also a good twist, a much better one than “lol, the world is already destroyed”.
Besides that, the last moments of the game have masterfully used gameplay for storytelling. Movies and books can make us feel two things – pain or pleasure. Alternating between those is how stories have impactful twist and turns, causing them to be engaging. But in video games, we can experience a spectrum of feelings that other mediums cannot provide. In games, we can also feel power or powerlessness. And the game’s final gameplay segments put us at start in a state of powerlessness, in form of a choice between bad and worse, then letting us slowly regain power, culminating in a satisfying beat-down of helpless Junko. The point of that section of the game was death and rebirth of Hajime into SSJ Chadiyan, and the game makes you experience all of it.
Also, unlike the previous game, this one makes a proper statement. In the bad and worse situation, where you can either allow the devil to triumph at cost of other people, or become a martyr to stop the devil, what you say is “screw the devil, there’s a chance we will still survive, and we are risk takers!”. This is exactly the statement that the first game should have made. You can’t fall into despair and give up in face of overwhelming hardship. But you can also be betrayed by a false hope of everything working out. But not much can be accomplished without facing the risk and taking your chances, even if you odds are desperately small.
Overall, the finale did drag and relied on retcons, but its climax was truly enjoyable and worthwhile.
#danganronpa#danganronpa 2#hajime hinata#nagito komaeda#vn#game review#review#review2002#video game#video game review#writing tips#super danganronpa 2
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What are your views on UT!Chara? Are they good, neutral, evil (in your opinion) (No need to answer this ask if you do not want to)
hoo boy let me just. you’ve activated a Secret Essay(tm) of mine anon fbdshabl sorry i’ll try to keep it short LMAO
(under a read more just for a) length b) ut spoilers.. even tho im p sure most of you have beaten the game but who knows lol c) uhh Chara’s story is pretty dark so this has mentions of abuse and whatnot so please be aware of that ^^;;)
Morality alignment wise is like. Idk. I’m bad with assigning that half the time because it’s all subjective in a way right oh no my true neutralness surfaces like for example I wouldn’t do something I think is bad right? But someone else might think it’s bad. (Like my 16 yr old self might consider me today a terrible person just bc I like Undertale lol 16 yr old me is rude don’t listen to them) If I were to put them on a kind of DnD like alignment scale though, I think I would probably put them in a lawful neutral kind of alignment, maybe leaning a bit towards lawful evil.
But here’s the thing. Without Chara having any sort of backstory as to why they hate humans? It’s very hard for me to gauge where their motivation lies for the things that they did. Based off of what Asriel tells you when you talk to him in the Ruins, the genocide route, and the bits of narration we have, we can pretty much assume:
- Chara was pretty abusive, this is undeniably a fact even from just watching the videos in the True Lab; and while Asriel recognizes this, he didn’t want to lose them because they were the only one he felt close to. Which is likely part of the abuse they dealt by making him feel alone without them.
- Chara hated humanity for reasons they would not disclose to Asriel, but it’s pretty implied that they attempted to commit suicide by jumping into Mt. Ebott. This could mean that they were abused in their past, which could in turn provide reason for their abusive nature (because, with Chara being a child, it’s very likely that they took in the personalities of those around them to make their own person up. Even though they were hurting, they didn’t exactly know why, and even still, many people with an abusive history that end up abusive themselves might not even recognize that they’re being abusive, which might be the case for Chara as well.)
- Chara probably cared for Asriel. There’s a lot of things to indicate that they may have faked it or maybe it seems like they didn’t by their abusive nature towards Asriel, but it’s unlikely that Chara would fake caring about someone. If they jumped off the side of a mountain because they hated the people they were around so much, there’s very little reason for them to pretend they liked someone at the potential expense of their own happiness. More likely than not, Chara desperately wanted to keep Asriel close, but ended up being really controlling in an attempt to keep him close. Additionally, when you hug Asriel at the end of the True Pacifist route, the line “Hah... I don’t want to let go...” is said by the narrator, indicating it may have been Chara who said it. But considering how Sans also has lines that are spoken silently and in the default font, this may not be entirely accurate.
- Imma go off for a second about genocide because i have a pet peeve about when people suddenly decide that Chara is the one that caused it. This doesn’t make any sense -- but at the same time, with little to no games considering the Player and Player-Insert character to be two seperate characters, it’s no surprise to me that people i guess “projected” onto Chara. However, if you seperate the player from Frisk (in the same manner that Kris and the Player are seperate in Deltarune), it becomes easier to understand. Chara had nothing against the monsters. They liked monsterkind. It’s extremely unlikely that they would have the motivation to kill all of the monsters on their own. This wasn’t created until far into the genocide route, where the player has done most of the work for them. Chara is now living on pure Determination, which as we know is void of care and purely puts a person on a path of achieving their last desire, and once they wake up like this, with most of monsterkind already dead... well, what else is there to live for? They already attempted to kill humanity, failed, and now the only people they treasured have fallen like flies. Nothing matters in this world. Might as well delete the whole thing to finish the job. (also Frisk doesn’t have any motivations of their own either... unlike Kris they are shown to have no specific motivations (that i’m aware of?) one way or another and don’t reject the player ever so the idea that a canon frisk would reject the genocide route doesn’t make sense to me either. obvs au’s are exempt because they’re free real estate lmao anyway this is unrelated)
- Chara’s a very calculated and observent person as well -- just look at how they died? They weren’t even afraid of death. They poisoned themselves with full faith that Asriel would take their Soul and bring them back to life (which also goes back to my point about how much Chara cared for Asriel, since, if they didn’t trust him, they would not have left him with that huge responsibility) by absorbing their Soul into his own body so they could exist as one. Chara saw their death as a stepping stone in their plan. All this from just seeing Asgore accidentally eat buttercups once and getting sick. A whole plan to get revenge on the people who hurt them from that. They even made a statement about wanting to be placed back on the Surface just to cover Asriel’s ass when he eventually took Chara on his own to the Surface.
- okay this is probably just more of a me thing, but I’ve never gotten the whole “Chara hates Sans” concept. But considering I also don’t really think of Chara as the one who attempted the genocide route, I guess it makes sense. Chara probably doesn’t care about Sans one way or another, really, and Sans probably has very little idea who Chara is. I’ve always seen Sans’s statements during his battle said directly towards the Player, more or less using Frisk as the messenger -- like, for example (yes I have this on hand don’t judge me):
“sounds strange, but before this i was secretly hoping we could be friends. i always thought the anomaly was doing this because they were unhappy. and when they got what they wanted, they would stop all this. and maybe all they needed was. i dunno. some good foods, some bad laughs, some nice friends. but that’s ridiculous, right? yeah. you’re the type of person who won’t EVER be happy.”
- (cont) At this point it sort of taps into something I was gonna write for that Sans essay but here we go. I bolded “the anomaly” because this is the point where he directly refers to the player as their own individual in the game. What’s the only thing that’s different between Undertale and any moments of his life previous? The player. Hence, anomaly. Even Chara would have existed before the player showed up, right? Chara fell sometime within the 2010′s according to the opening of the game, and in between that time and when Frisk showed up, 6 other humans fell into the Underground. Clearly none of them had the same powers Frisk did, because otherwise, they would have not died and left their Soul behind for Asgore to use. That leaves one thing different -- player interference. Chara even directly states that the player is the one who woke them up with Determination, meaning they were asleep (or dead) for every year previous to their arrival. Sans probably only knows them as “the first human” like every other monster in the Underground (aside from the Dreemurs, of course).
i could probably go on for a while. but i will save you the time you probably didn’t want to spend reading this already by shutting up fdbshafb
#zircon answers#abuse mention tw//#suicide mention tw//#i used to hate chara as a character bc i thought there was no information on them#but the more i got into the game and started reading things the more i got invested in them#now frisk has that role of my least favorite character for being boring LMAO#anonymous
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SAD SACK Review
SAD SACK is a series of ultraviolent snuff porn comics by meanboss and barbatus following 5 somewhat likable but very maladjusted guys as they commit a series of murders against deserving(?) people. I didn’t know anything beyond that going in, though I was familiar with some of their previous works and loved them so I knew I was gonna love this. This review is split up by my thoughts on each comic, and then my overall thoughts.
Spoilers shouldn’t ruin your enjoyment of these comics, but if you’re the kind of person who cares about that but want to know if I recommend it - hell yeah I recommend it. if you think you’ll like it, you’ll probably like it. This review is also nsfw, which goes for everything on this blog.
disclaimer: I am not an artist, I do write but not very well or often and have no formal training beyond what you get from k-12 and a basic college degree. I’m just a gore, sex, and death enthusiast here to let you know my thoughts on this awesome comic ‘cause god knows more people need to hear the word
1. SO MUCH FOR THE TOLERANT LEFT
This is definitely the most fun. It’s a raw, unadulterated revenge fantasy. It’s passionate, it’s angry, but stays pretty light and fun, or as light and fun as a torture porn comic can be. It’s indulgent. It’s violent pleasure to the max. And it's so! fucking! HOT!
Malik’s dirty talk is so raunchy. Raping a nazi? Making him cry and beg for cock? Jesus christ it’s SO hot. I love Stone’s mock-kindness, and how the nazi bends to their whims so fast. And Garv’s skull-fucking is probably one of if not my favorite scenes in all of the comics. Those exposed brains reeaallly hit the spot.
The art is a little rougher than the others, which is to be expected since it’s the first but honestly? I love it and it fits the tone, and it’s really cool to see how the quality is improved with every comic. The visuals are amazing. The facial expressions are incredible and are exaggerated in such a way that conveys the extreme emotion really well. I love the panels where the nazi’s face is reflected in Jake’s glasses and you see how tiny and pathetic he is and feels.
This one is the easiest to digest. There’s not a lot of story here, it gets to the point fast, it feels like it’s not ‘real’, as in it doesn’t feel like it exists in a world like our own where consequences exist..... until the end where Jake has to go back to retrieve Malik’s sister’s knife and the nebulous “torture world” and the real world the boys live in meet. Most torture porn I’ve consumed thus far has only or mostly only been torture porn, so I like that they have lives outside of this, which is explored a lot more as the story goes on.
2. A SMALL PLOT OF LAND
This murder is purely emotional, and the only one that isn’t sexual at all. I don’t have as many specific things that I liked to point out here but it’s so satisfying to see a cowardly predator get what he deserves. The only explicitly sexual content is at the beginning where Sal and Stone are violently fucking, but the story and gnarly as fuck gore more than makes up for it (and if you’re into that sort of thing, it won’t hold you back from finding parts sexy anyway). I love the quick tonal shift from violent fuck to a tender and vulnerable moment between them. Sal and Stone’s relationship here is sweet and loving and actually pretty cute. For how intense this one is, it ends fairly light-hearted and I got a real kick out of Garv starting to lick the cock and then get pissy when Malik tells him off, and clearly, Sal did too!
What really shines in these comics, aside from all the gore and porn and dicks and yummy goodness we’re here for, are the panels featuring faces. The expressions are intense and scary, and they're not afraid to make the characters look ugly. You can feel Sal’s pain and rage through the pages, and his asthma acting up as things spiral in intensity helps convey that even more. And in the end, when he lets out that heavy breath, you can feel the weight that's been lifted from him.
The brunch date in the epilogue is awfully cute, and I'm glad to see Sal so happy.
3. SNUFF MACHINERY
Malik is so sexy and charming. I love his sweet talk and dirty talk. I like that it starts as a consensual encounter… and Vaska slowly realizes something’s wrong as he chokes on Malik’s cock. I love how lost, scared, and pathetic yet so pliant and willing to please he is. I love that he just opens his mouth up for everybody to pass him around and fuck his face, and I love how grody and sopping wet his beard gets with all sorts of body fluids.
There’s not even any gore until halfway through… but once it comes, boy, things escalate quickly. Ironic revenge is one of my favorites, so it makes his drugged, fluid-soaked face all the more satisfying to watch get crunched. And when Garv fingers his brain… ooh, fuck.
The revelation that Malik’s motive was revenge for something that happened to his sister and not actually to him completely changed the context I viewed it in. You could tell killing him hadn’t relieved Malik of the guilt and anger like he’d expected it to, maybe even made the guilt worse. This seems to sort of mark a turning point in tone for the overall story. Jake and Sal both seemed to be helped by their experiences, but Malik and later Stone were not. If anything, their problems seem to have been made worse by their choice to take somebody’s life, and it doesn’t give me good feelings for the fate these boys are headed for.
3.5. 15°20' FRACTURE ZONE
Simple, sexy, great atmosphere, free. Check it out first if you’re on the fence about buying the others. There’s no gore, but it’s still great.
4. A.M.F.
I think Garv’s date is the most painful thing I’ve seen so far, HAH!
By this point, I’d been endeared enough to all the characters that I was invested in their dinner and karaoke and probably would’ve still been if they hadn’t been planning their next fetish murder. Stone is an unlikable asshole for the majority and it makes me feel bad for Sal, but I still like getting to see more and more of their real lives and I want to root for him to do better. This was by far the most story-heavy, and by far the one I felt the most conflicted about. I was pretty fucked up my first couple reads of this, so I didn’t realize that Evan, their waiter, was Stone’s victim until my third or so read. Realizing this I had an oh, shit moment, and realizing they were talking about his death right in front of him!!! gave me another oh, shit! moment. That’s so fucked. That fucked me up. Up until this point, most people would agree the victims deserved what came to them, or at least don’t feel bad for them, but this man’s only crime was.... being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Looking too much like Stone’s dad? And all the other guys were ok with this too? That speaks louder to me than anything these characters could say. Also, that’s sloppy. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to kill people you know?
It’s the first time I’ve truly been disturbed by SAD SACK, knowing the feast is just a guy who didn’t do anything wrong. After stewing on my feelings and reading again, it… actually makes it hotter? In the sense that it’s that much more provocative. That context made me more sensitive to the gore, too. The tooth-pulling scene was the first one to actually make me cringe, and I still have a hard time looking at it, so good job guys! Jake talking to Stone while he’s getting fucked out of his mind is so fun, and everyone looks so sexy. Every view we get of Sal’s ass is a fucking gift. I’m so glad Stone sat on Garv’s face against his will, and I’d say he deserved getting blood and shit sprayed all over him… or maybe that just because he’s real cute when he’s upset.
Stone's murder was not a good idea and clearly didn't help him. He wasn't prepared for Evan's death quite yet when it happened, just like he wasn't prepared for his dad's. You can't control death, dude. If anything, just like Malik, it might've made it worse. I could speculate about how maybe both were using their murders as a way to avoid actually dealing with their real issues… buuut I'm not here to speculate.
5. Pre BOG
I… like Garv a lot. I think he’s a new favorite character. He stirs the same lustful feelings in me that Lawrence did. I want to hurt and humiliate and control him. Unlike Lawrence, he’s an awful person who I don’t care about at all or want any happiness for but man is he a cute little piece of shit! The fact that he fucks (or tries..to fuck...) the dead bodies at the end of each comic definitely doesn’t help my endearment towards him. I’m a little nervous for his comic because he is such a misogynistic piece of shit... but I’m also excited because I love how nasty he is and excited he gets, especially for the dead.
CONCLUSION
I like that they’re just ‘normal’ guys (minus Garv. Garv is a piece of shit). I like it when people who do bad things are relatable. I like it when you can sympathize with them, and I like it when you can empathize with them, and I like thinking about if I were under similar circumstances, would I be capable of such things? What would it take for me to? Would I ever be able to? How close is the average person to being able to violently murder someone? Is there something wrong with me for even thinking about it? Hopefully, these contemplations will never be anything more than hypothetical but I think it’s still good to analyze my enjoyment of darker things. It’s not just indulgent porn (although it definitely, certainly is that too). It’s an exploration of personal failings, trauma, choosing to deal with your issues through violence and how it does or doesn’t help… but those are topics that would need an analysis, and while one could definitely do a full analysis on this series, I’m not going to otherwise we’d be here for a lot longer.
The art is gross, it’s repulsive at times, and it’s done so well. I love the scant use of color in the mostly monochrome torture scenes, the way their eyes either glow or look hollow, the wonky angles, and exaggerated proportions to maximize the impact. I don’t know if these count as horror but the art has an awesome horror aesthetic, and a lot of the time the way the guys are drawn is downright terrifying. There’s no way I can talk about every small detail I loved. That’s 769 pages to talk about and at that point, I might as well just annotate every page. If you like gore you’re gonna love these comics. If you like torture, or helpless screaming men, or really dark themes, or nasty stuff in general, you’re gonna love it. Even if you’re not into gore sexually, it’s fucking gnarly, and it has a comedic edge. These guys do gross so fuckin well and I absolutely love it. My creative goals in life are to make erotic art - to make porn, but not exclusively porn, things that are able to be used as wank material but also able to be enjoyed outside of that. SAD SACK accomplishes that, and it’s kind of inspirational.
I appreciate everything that goes into this project. I wish there was more violent fetish content of this high of quality, so I think it’s important to support creators when it comes to projects like this. Most horror porn I’ve seen also puts the reader in the victim’s position, and as someone who leans generally on the more sadistic side of things, I appreciate the main characters as the perpetrators. If you do too, go check it out. Thank you, RJ and Nick, for all the incredible amounts of work and time you've put into this project. I've enjoyed it a lot and will continue to do so for quite a while, I’m sure.
Also... I didn’t know where else to put this, but those weeks-old corpses were exquisite <3
#i wanted this to be longer because i have way more thoughts#but honestly this has taken way too long as it is and if i waited for my brain to start workin better to#make those thoughts coherent to others#nobody would ever see this#sad sack
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I don't often write long personal stuff on this blog.
But the past month I've been confronted with a very odd privilege I wasn't really aware of.
Apparantly, I am a natural hermit.
I was alone a LOT as a child. I always found ways to entertain myself.
People have told me before they found it sort of odd and/or remarkable that I manage to get out of bed and do stuff every day, on my own, from home, despite not making much money of the stuff I do.
I always sort of shrugged it off. I like making things. Occassionally I sell things. Not a very steady income, though. My partner's income makes sure I don't starve. Which I sometimes feel guilty about, but that's not the point here. I was aware of my privilege in that department already. No, this new one... is about self-motivation. About boredom.
Whatever I may have expected this pandemic to reveal... this wasn't it.
I fundamentally do not understand boredom.
I will try to phrase this in a way that doesn't upset people (I know this is tumblr, so it's probably futile, but still). This is not an accusation to anybody. This is a personal observation, a reality I've been living in, but never really noticed. Not to this extent, at least.
People... need structure. I know that. I do too. People are social. I know that. I am too. But still I was not prepared to see this many people react this badly to isolation.
If you're stuck with people you don't like, of course.
If you have a teensy little living space with no balcony or garden, of course.
If you're worried about your health or those of close friends/relatives, of course.
If you are touch-starved, of course.
If your job/business is at risk, of course.
If you are already struggling with depression, an eating disorder, a disability or are otherwise dependant on people taking care of you, of course.
If you're very extraverted and can't stand being alone, of course.
If you're a huge workaholic/completely exploited so you have no idea what to even do with free time, of course.
If you suddenly get like 5 times the responsibility/ work load/ risk exposure because of your job, of course.
If you have no money to get materials to fill your time with, of course.
If you have little means of connecting with others such as a working internet device, of course.
But then I see people, close friends even, with no friends or family at risk, no personal (mental) health issues, a secure job, living with a loving partner, in a spacious home, who have hobbies, and a safe place to go outside, an online continuation of their job so structure is still pretty much there, often even have a work room/study so they can still sort of separate work & private, some of them are even used to working from home already... And they are still climbing the walls. These same people who always want to have holidays. Who always have lists of stuff they want to do and complain about a lack of time. Which they now have. They say they can't get motivated. They say they are bored.
And, like... I get it. To a certain degree. This is a worldwide traumatic event. It's tiring, even if you aren't at the front lines. I'm also bummed that I can't derp through the city centre for fun like I'm used to. I hate being forced to use a desinfected shopping cart. I miss my gym, my favourite bar, and seeing my friends. I've had some bad days.
But that's it- I'm just bummed. And they're just days, sometimes just hours, not weeks.
It's an "ugh" not an "aaargh".
And it doesn't get worse- It gets easier.
As long as none of the other factors change, like someone I care about getting very sick (some were, or even still are, but none of them seem in immediate danger), or money suddenly falling away completely... I can easily last another 2 months before going mad.
In fact, I've just comfortably settled in for the long haul.
I got my hugs, my yard, my job, I can still get groceries- I'm good. A bit annoyed, but good. Not much actually changed... Except everyone around me seems to suffer from some real cabin fever, including my partner. Even my dad, Einzelgänger McNeed-no-one, seems grumpy.
And I'm just... baffled. Is it really that hard to stay motivated all by yourself, even if your basic needs are all met? Am I some kind of alien?? Do y'all not have projects? Hobbies? Books and games and movies you want to catch up on? Do you not feel like you're always months behind on everything? Do you normally not want to cram as much hours as possible in a day? Is it really that difficult to just do things? Even instant reward things? I'm no stranger to procrastination, or executive dysfunction, not at all, but... genuine boredom?
I don't even understand how that WORKS.
I can recall the last 3 times I've been legit bored in the last five years. They were all situations where I had to wait for something, yet keep alert the entire time. In any other situation, I can just set an alarm and retreat in my head. Or do a thing.
Again- if your basic needs AREN't met (I'm not talking about a haircut, I mean like physical starvation) or if you're in some other stressful situation, including mental or physical illness/disability- yes. Absolutely. You're burnt-out, completely understandable.
But if you HAVE a structure (a bit altered maybe, but still), HAVE somebody nice with you, HAVE non-risky job security, CAN communicate with loved ones- HOW. What is it that normally keeps you motivated, then? Do you need that specific an environment & rhythm to thrive, even if you often complain about it?? Explain it to me, please!
I know we're dealing with global environmental catastrophe and this pandemic will likely cause a global recession on top of it, but- to me, at a certain point the amount of shit just becomes insurmountable and it doesn't matter much anymore if anything gets added. Who knows how I'll afford retirement. At this rate might very well not be able to afford clean water before that. We'll cross that bridge when (if) we get to it. Do whatever you can while you can, and that's enough. And making stuff is a great way to combat existential dread.
I know that at the start of this, most people with anxiety functioned way better than the so-called normal people. Because a) they were used to navigating panic-mode, b) the social distancing took a load off and c) their brains went HAH SEE WE WERE RIGHT THERE WAS A THREAT! which I imagine must be sort of satisfying and relaxing. I figured this was the evolutionary benefit of anxiety.
So now that cabin fever is rising, why do I not see more natural hermits being weirded out by everyone around them? Should there not be a decent group of humanity that keeps a level head during isolation? Has it become some social faux-pas to say you're personally not all that bad right now? Are you supposed to complain, even if you're fine?? Am I going to make myself some kind of outcast by posting this???
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toffee!
no dont apologise! i didnt check until just then so np :)
mmm yeah it is a bit trippy. hehe ITS TRUE THO. yeah sadly i think ur right, and tag blocking is probably a good idea. sometimes smut written well or not in excess is okay but goddamn when its abt 01 line and thats the whole fic... *silently blocks tags*
hehe i do that all the time lol this conversation is carrying on threads from a month ago :) mmm yeah ur probably right sadly, same. HA HE DIDNT HAVE A CHOICE and now i have someone to talk to abt them, so thats good! I KNOW felix was actually the one who got me into skz with his iconique gods menu line so i guess i have a soft spot for him. i always tell myself my bias is chan but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ guess im more whipped than id like to admit. mmm yeah that does make sense dw i hope they do that as well. YES king seungmin hIMSELF. GODDAMNIT DONT GET ME STARTED ON MINHO IN GODS MENU I DIDNT EVEN KNOW HE WAS PART OF THE GROUP UNTIL I STARTED GETTING MORE INTO THEM. BITCH (affectionate) THE LINE DISTRIBUTION HAS BEEN UTTER DOG SHIT but *deep breath* its better now so were moving on adn hoping it stays that way. sis same but i may or may not have gone thru a rlly depressed phase and actively sought out the elimination episodes so i could actually force some tears out of my emotionless shell of a heart but what cna you do? lmaoo i feel that irl, binnie deserves more vocal lines. yesss channies accent is rlly prominent then, i think also the way he structures his phrasing? is more english speaking than korean? but yeah i totally get what ur saying. AJKSAL lmao
okay then! im excited for whenever it gets done! (maybe tag me?) ahh the cold shrivelled heart of a dark au writer beats again at the thought of torturing another poor characters very soul (/j) :(( yeah that would suck not being able to see them. ohhh ur on the other hemisphere to me! were just going into spring rn. mmm smth to look forward to! YES you put it into words. they rlly are pretty independent from the company (remember how jyp rejected that other dudes songs after like 3 seconds and then how he was apparently nervous to show the song hed written to chan cos chan was so good at writing hits ahhh sweet revenge) mmmYES we rlly need a mute and remove notifications button for our brains dont we?
YES CORRECT i totally agree. some people jsut dont give it a try, adn assume its bad cos its korean smh racist assholes. yes! im coming up to my 6 month anniv actually! sis sAME, i feel like theyre being tugged into appealing to the western american market and theyre not staying as true to their artistic flair as a group, especially with only writing english songs atm. *sigh* ah well, at least theyre bringing recognition to the kpop world. AHUH dead on, theyre going to be discarded pretty soon and then where will bp be? theyll prob go solo paths which is rlly sad but what can you do when the company is run by a prideful asshole? yg is not going to last much longer in the big four if they keep this up.
hehe you get it. oooh very cool! whos ur ult? (sorry if youve said this before) mmmm yeah good decision, i feel liek thats probably a wise decision. this is my first album release as a kpop stan (not counting mixtape oh) so i think ill get it for sentiments sake. yeah! im excited for the new music! mingi was the one who got me into them, but atm my bias is seonghwa followed by san, wooyoung and ateez but jonghos high notes man *swoon* he, yeah atm ive got jake, jay, nikki, jungwon and sunoo down so just trying to get the rest :) heh, yeah kard i rlly only got into cos of bm, ive seen him like interacting with a lot of idols and he seemed nice so i decided to check out the group. ikr gunshot man *another swoon*
no noe! i didnt know what it was until i got it lol. thx toffee ill try and take that to mind :) yeah lol im on a waiting list thats not going to be free until late september so hopefully i can hold on until then. hope ur okay, that sounds like it sucks, hope you can find someone. maybe ill just take you along on my phone and the therapist can get a two for one patient deal lmaooo. mmm, sorry no i havent mentioned it before, i dont rlly talk abt it much. uhhh basically hypermobility? if you google it, it doesnt seem bad, jsut joint flexibility but ive got the severe end of the stick, leaning towards ehlers danlos syndrome so thats fun. basically it just makes it hard for me to exercise, run, jump, stand or just walk for long periods of time and gives me a lot of joint and muscle pain so... thats fun! but obviously so many other people have it worse than me, so i try not to complain. normally in young people it will improve as they get older, but my doctor said bc its severe in me, its unlikely to get much better. but again, i dont have the worst lot in the bunch, so its all g.
oh its good that its not the bad type of rain, a light sprinkling can be relaxing sometimes. aww thx darl, the concern is appreciated but it went pretty well and i managed not to cough too much on stage or kill myself trying to run around to the other side of the stage in the pouring rain so thats good! oooh tea buddies! my dogs a labradoodle, but shes a bit more of a feral poodle lol not much labrador in her at all, unless its her relentless urge to hunt down every bird that has ever walked this earth smh :((( hopefully they can come back on soon, does uni have dances?
ahhh a mood if i ever heard one. hopefully things will get better for you soon, ik anxiety sucks ass. ooh thats always good! when its sunny here, its always melt ur thongs to the pavement hot so the nicely cool sunny days are a lovely change. hehe impatience is not so good for you, but good for us that get to see ur beautiful theme early. ahh no worries, itll come eventually hopefully. and if not, then just things that make you not anxious are good. it doesnt have to be black or white, sometimes gray is good. mmmmm sames i have midterms this week to catch up on and then two weeks of end of terms so thats fun! i hope u can overcome that a little, heres some channie to be ur motivation https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8LWyNjzOww. hah! i hear that all the time, he seems to be everywhere. did you see that tiktok of hans slowed back door rap, i stg it sounded EXACTLY like namjoon, it kinda scared me. also teh beginning of another day, sounds so much like joon i swear.
that reminds me! idk ur biases! i feel like this should be smth i should know so please! feel free to elaborate!
ahh im glad, i was worried it is. mmm same, so no hard feelings if either of us misses a day or smth. ill start worrying if weeks/months have gone by, but if its just a little while thats more than fine. ill just picture you studiously completing notes and i wont worry lol
<3 w.a. 🐺
at some point i really think i'm going to start blocking accounts because blocking tags won't be enough. i saw ask tags the other day and it just made me want to bleach my eyeballs.
i could talk about god's menu felix for hours man. the teaser for god's menu that featured his part on the bridge made me look forward to the mv release. you: biases chan, also you: lixiesbabyhands. yes you are more whipped than you think. i can't believe orange haired minho was given NOTHING during that era but they kind of made up for it in the b-sides. i also hope it stays that way. the distribution for this era was pretty fair.
"torturing another poor character's soul" in all honesty, i used to live for this. 2017 me leading up to early 2020 wrote nothing but angst. i have another aussie friend on twt and tbh i'm still really (O.o) about the seasons! jyp should be terrified skz could easily take over that company. heck if skz grow old and start their own company, they'd probably do a great job at running it. PLEASE. i have issues on muting/notifications both mentally and in real life. sometimes, i just wish to disappear.
some people in my country are just disgusting tbh. not only racist but homophobic too. they label kpop as 'gay' and it DISGUSTS me. it's a problematic behavior/mindset people in my country need to fucking get rid of. anyway, HELP ME 6 MONTHS??? and i've been in this shit for like a decade eye. tbh, i’m not fond of kpop groups trying to appeal to the western audience :// it feels like they’re losing their identity in a way. yes recognition but at what cost? yg has my favorite groups but that’s one shitty company when it comes to promoting.
okay my ult! it’s haechan from nct but i consider chan an ult too. like a close second above my whopping list of kpop boys. oh yes! you should get the album just for like a keepsake? remembrance? how did mingi appeal to you? omg did you start getting interested in ateez back when he was still on hiatus? NOT YOU BIASING THE SAME PEOPLE I DID WHEN I FIRST STARTED STANNING. the infamous ateez thot-line. jongho is easily one of the best fourth gen vocalists out here, no one can change my mind :( good luck with memorizing the rest of enhypen! just in time for the comeback too. i hope i’ll get into kard soon but i’m pretty content (and a tad bit overwhelmed) with the amount of groups i stan right now.
please hold on though, feel free to vent here if you like. thanks for the offer tho HAHA but like i’ll try to get checked here too when the cases die down a bit. i’m sorry to hear about your condition though :( please don’t ever overwork yourself to the point that your joints/muscles would ache. it’s completely valid to complain about it tho. i get that you have others in mind but keeping that mindset really doesn’t do you (like you internally) any better? so if you need to, vent your frustrations out and don’t keep it in.
oh my god, about your performance last sunday. was the stage out in the open? glad you didn’t cough too much and did well on your concert. i’m proud of you! i can never understand dogs and poor birds T_T uni doesn’t have dances unfortunately. i think there’s just one party at the end like a graduation ball. what year are you in anyway? if it’s something that you’re fine with sharing. if not, it’s cool.
good luck with your exams! and thanks for the link! AHA what a cutie. i think he does this motivation thing once in a while during his lives and it’s just comforting. yeah joon and han my irl just freaked when we made that discovery. ult crumbs for her. oh god not me forgetting about every biases when you asked. you can ask for my biases in a few groups just list down the one’s you’re interested in knowing.
i missed yesterday because i was grinding and finishing what if we stay + school work. finally did it today. i’m sure i’ll reply in like a day or two, definitely not a month unless i state otherwise. if i ever decide to abandon this blog, i’ll let you know.
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I've been reading some fics on Ao3 and one called "But can you sail with that weight" by Autumnpen, really brought to light something I never thought of. Gon may very well have lack of self worth and low self esteem, coupled with abandonment issues. It's easy to miss due to him being a similar character to Naruto, Luffy and Goku. But there are hints of it in the Chimera Ant arc, especially when Gon cries over his weakness. Now that he is Nenless and basically right back at square one- (tbc)
I think everything that has happened to Gon will fully sink in, and maybe more of his deeper emotional and psychological issues will come to light. Ging’s abandonment affected Gon more than we were aware, and looking back at the very beginning of the series with the knowledge later on, you can see these in little bits and pieces before being covered up. What do you think? How do you think Gon will develop from there and how could This affect his future relationships?
Final note, I actually think it was sort of cruel for Mito to have Gon write down his experiences as a hunter. I mean, I know that the scene was meant for laughs and writing stuff down can help, but it also made me think she was being a little insensitive to Gon. It makes you realize that she is incredibly sheltered, much like Gon. Sure she’s had hardships, but she’s never had to face death in the face or experience despair before or see how cruel people can be I’m rambling at this point. 😅
[ The bold text above are the continued messages posted by @rowanshinobi. ]
This is very interesting.
Gon is very young while experiencing these insane changes in his life, and it’s prevalent through the entire anime that the coming-of-age aspects are not being left behind psychologically. Killua receives a lot of attention in this way, since we essentially see more from his perspective and how he observes elements later in the story, especially in the Chimera Ant Arc.
So, his perception of Gon, and the audience’s, are still primarily limited and open to interpretation on how he’s actually processing.
There’s an undeniable fact that what happened to Gon will transpire the older he grows, and the more experiences he takes under his belt. I think it’s awesome that he’s Nenless now, since we’ll be able to see him navigate a frustrating playing field that he’s not yet familiar with. It’s essential for his growth as a character, and is meant to be individual.
Being Nenless, Gon will be forced to commit to a path that’s sewn through solidarity. He cannot go through this journey of figuring himself out with another person guiding him. If Gon did not experience substantial changes in his maturity, intellect, and perception through this whole ordeal and the outcome, I would be very surprised. Togashi seems aware of this as well.
Gon is also, actually, one of the more unpredictable characters in terms of how others affect him. He’s a simple person, but Ging’s impact on him seems to be more substantial than expected. I think what people mistakenly assume is that Ging’s abandoning him left zero impact on him because of how “lightly” he takes it, but I think it’s the exact opposite.
Of course Ging’s abandonment impacted Gon. It fuels, at first, the sole reason he wishes to become a Hunter.
He admires Ging, and respects him, and values Ging’s accomplishments and stance as a person more than him actually being there. At the end of the anime, there’s a sense of… parallelism, that exists between Gon and Ging. Father and son, very alike and very different. All that transpired with Gon, at least when it comes to Ging, appears to be worth it in those few moments.
I could be wrong about this. I think you have a point with how it could be affecting Gon in a different way than what is commonly perceived. It would be fascinating, and a little disarming, to see if Gon’s viewpoint changes the older he grows and the more distant he becomes from his older ideals and his loss of his Nen.
He’s a Hunter, now meant to take on purposes that aren’t revolving around Ging, so he will be latching onto a journey meant for him that lead somewhere more related to self-discovery. Throughout the anime, Gon’s achievements are centered around his desire to meet his father. And now, being Nenless, he does, as you stated, need to “return to square one.”
This will be extremely vital for his character. How it affects his relationships is hard to tell, since I’m not sure what a Nenless, older Gon attempting to navigate a path of self-discovery that’s alien to him will be like. Which is part of why the mystery and expectations with the story are so fascinating to begin with.
I do disagree about Mito being cruel, but that’s mostly due to personal interpretation and perception. It makes sense, to say that she is sheltered, but having Gon write down his experiences actually makes sense to me. It seemed also to be a necessary step in learning to grow. You take notes/write down your experiences and recount what you’ve learned.
I didn’t find it cruel. Mito also knows how dangerous it would be to become a Hunter (or at least, some semblance of an idea) so why should she keep Gon from learning from his experiences? Maybe I’m a little skewed, but this seemed to make sense to me. However, I understand where you’re coming from.
Also I highly doubt that Mito hasn’t experienced despair in some way or form. Of course we never see it explicitly in the anime (and I’m sure this is the same case for the manga as well), but she has an apparent depth of understanding with many things, including the sadder elements in life and knowing how one thing would impact Gon, versus an ulterior motive or decision.
Her being familiar with despair and knowing the harsh world of Hunters makes sense. There was a reason she was hesitant to let Gon go off, after all, aside from how much she would miss him.
Anyway. Hah. Sorry, this isn’t very collectively thought out, but I loved your messages! Thanks for your thoughts. Hope this response was somewhat satisfactory!
#rowanshinobi#Response#HxH#Hunter x Hunter#Gon Freecss#Meta#Characterization#HxH Meta#Discussion#Character Analysis#Expand On This If You Want#Mito Freecss#Interesting Points
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Sorry not Sorry
Chapter 8
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 9
Summary: A random number wakes you up early on a Saturday morning. But it doesn't stop there. The stranger keeps on sending messages, and you have no idea what is happening, when you start to develop feelings for the unknown person.
Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader [submit your name: How it works]
Y/N your Name
Y/F your friends name
Word Count: 1932
Warnings: There will be swearing for sure, lots of sarcasm
A/N: Chapter 8 is done!
A little late, sorry for that, but I hope you like it. We are slowly working our way towards the main plot, so stay tuned on the upcoming chapters.
Feel free to let me know what you think, too! Im so Happy about all the feedback I get. It really helps me to stay motivated and write for you :)
It was a day after the Incident in the pub and you were laying in bed and staring at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity. Your phone was on the nightstand next you, silent since the last message from the night before. The only sound in your home were loudspeakers, playing some music from your Spotify playlist.
‘Things will happen while they can, I will wait here for my man tonight. It's easy when you're big in Japaaaan. Oh, when you're big in Japan, tonight Big in Japaaaan, be tight. Big in Japan, ooh the eastern sea's so blueee’, you sang along and tried to not think about your embarrassing encounter with Tom. Afternoon was slowly creeping by and you didn't do anything all day until your phone buzzed for the first time that day and you turned over to grab it from the stand.
The Spiderman: I’m leaving in two days to Montreal. Wanna meet up properly this time?
You immediately sat up straight in your bed, staring at the message that came from Tom. You giggled a little at the new Nickname in your contacts. The whole situation seemed to be unreal, you still couldn't imagine that the Tom Holland was the person who messaged you by accident. And yet here you were, reading a message from him once again.
You: I swear, I’m living in a fanfic or something …
The Spiderman: ?
You: Nevermind lol . Yes, I’d like to meet. Any idea what to do?
The Spiderman: Do you like dogs?
You: Positive.
The Spiderman: Fancy a walk in the park with me and Tess?
You jumped out of your bed and ran over to your wardrobe to get some clothes, at the same time you typed in your response.
A walk in the park sounded just great for a sunny afternoon date.
Meet?
Just a walk?
What were you supposed to call this?
You were unsure if this counted as a date or not so you just shoved that thought into the darkest corner of your mind and chose some casual clothes. Jeans and a simple T-Shirt would do for a walk in the park.
You: Sure! Where and when?
The Spiderman: Richmond Park. And whenever you’re free
You: I’ll get ready and let you know when I’m about to get on the train.
You showered, dressed up and put some decent make up on your face before you rushed out of your apartment. Usually it took you a little longer to get ready but this time you didn't want to waste any time. What was happening with you?
The Spiderman: Alright. Ill pick you up from the Station.
You: Omw. See you!
The Spiderman: in a bit! X
The time on the train passed by quickly and you arrived in no time at the station, that was closest to the Park.
You’ve been here before, so this area was familiar to you as you got out of the train to meet Tom, you remembered the buildings and surroundings.
“You look nice”, was the first thing, Tom said and immediately you felt your ears turn red and warm. You hoped for your cheeks to stay pale.
“Thank you. Even though I’m not wearing anything special”, you laughed, a little nervous.
“But you still look nice.”
“Thank you Mr. handsome”, another giggle escaped your lips as you approached the pair. You embraced Tom in a hug, before turning all your attention to the dog, that was sitting well behaved next to him.
“And who are you?” you asked even though you knew Tessa already from Photos on the internet. You stroked her chin and head before getting up again.
“That’s my dog, Tess”, Tom answered and you smiled, giving the dog one last pat on the head. “She’s gorgeous. Take good care of her or she might be gone later”, you joked, smiling wide.
“You think someone could steal her?”, Tom wondered and motioned you to follow him out of the building. “Oh absolutely”, you grinned, winking at him.
‘It’s easier than I expected’, you thought to yourself as you walked next to the guy you’ve been talking to for the past few weeks.
After the incident in the Pub, you were over thinking so much about your behaviour earlier. That you weren't even capable to say a proper word. You believed, that meeting him again would be so awkward after the first encounter but you were glad, that it wasn't as you expected it to be.
“Wanna hold her?”, Tom’s words threw you out of your train of thoughts and you stared at the leash for a second before realizing what he was saying.
“Sure”, you answered while taking Tessa’s leash, holding onto it tightly so you wouldn't lose it because of your clumsiness.
“So, how was your day?” Tom asked casually, as you walked in the direction of Richmond Park.
“It was good. Silent and nice and yours?” you didn't tell him the part where you stressed yourself out because he asked you to meet. You tried to play it off cool.
“I had a few interviews this morning, so I’m a little tired”, he admitted, with a small smile on his lips.
“You should rest. You’ll be busy again once you're back at work”, “But that’d mean I’d miss some quality time with a certain girl”, his laugh made you look up to him with a questioning look on your face.
“Oh you can just hang out with your dog all day at home?”, you joked, totally getting his saying.
“You're a dork”
“Naaah, I got your intention”, winking at him you walked a little faster so that you could reach the park and let Tessa run. “But I just don't like to play hah”, you added.
“No games here any way!”
You both walked through the park, enjoying the summer sun on your skin. You let Tess run around freely, make her get the sticks you threw or play fetch with her ball. Tom was looking at you many times in silence, you felt it but you didn't say anything. The silence between you two was nice and not awkward at all and you enjoyed the attention you got from him, even if it was him staring at you.
“Would you have ever imagined us to actually meet?”, the brunette asked after a while as you decided to walk back slowly.
“To be honest, no.”
“Why?”
“I don't know. I think I was scared? If you would've asked to meet before we saw each other in the pub, I would have declined”, you admitted.
“Hmm”
“I didn't know what to expect. Sure it somehow excited me because I actually enjoyed your texts.”
“Oh, you did? I knew it!”, Tom laughed and you joined in.
“Sure I still do. But whenever I tried to imagine our first meet, I couldn't”
“I understand. It's hard to think of someone when you haven't even seen their face before.”
“Exactly, but now I'm kinda glad we met.” your words weren't louder than a whisper but Tom seemed to understand everything without a problem.
“So am I!”
You kept strolling through the park, talking about everything that came up to your mind. Tom asked you about your job and what you did in your free time, except for texting him. And you asked him the same. Especially about the past weeks as he was traveling the world. He told you about all the places he went to and you were in awe. You liked the glimmer in his eyes as he talked about traveling to all the places he hasn't been before.
“Are you excited for Montreal?”
“Oh absolutely. It’s gonna be busy with all the work there but I'm looking forward to it” he was genuinely excited, you could tell and suddenly there was a weird feeling in your chest. As something was stinging you.
“I'm a little jealous, I admit”, you said, laughing a little.
“Oh, I’ll bring you something or sent you a card if you want!” Tom suggested and you shrugged.
“No, you're busy enough. You don't need to get me anything” ‘please do bring me something’, you thought to yourself.
“I’ll do it anyway. No discussion” ‘Yes!’
You were slowly approaching the Neighbourhood with the train station just around the corner and it made you a little sad that the day was about to come to an end.
“Wanna stay for dinner?”
“I’d love too but I don't want to-” you couldn't finish your sentence which was pretty much about bothering him more. Tom must’ve felt this because immediately he said: “Okay, come on, we’re getting Dinner at mine!”
“I hate you so much.”
“I know.” You both laughed once again. As you did many times this day.
There was tons of Chinese takeaway spread out over the small table in the living room. You sat on the brown sofa, legs crossed and a box with rice and chicken on your lap as you watched Sons of Anarchy on Tom’s big, old TV. When will he get a new one anyway? This model seemed to be from the early 00’s.
“I enjoyed today a lot. Thanks for inviting me over.”, you mumbled shyly, after finishing your food.
“It was my pleasure. We should hangout again sometime” Tom suggested as he stuffed some more noodles into his mouth. You smiled softly and nodded: “Id actually like that a lot, Tom.”
“Good, maybe I can make some room tomorrow?”, he wondered and you felt your cheeks warming up the probably hundreds time this day. But last minute you remembered, that you were and not able to hang out.
“I'm afraid I'm busy. Can't miss my meetings”, you shrugged. You would’ve loved to hang out with him, but work was calling for you and you couldn't just call in sick because of some random guy. Okay, Tom wasn't random at all but still, calling in sick just for him to meet up with you wouldnt work.
“What a shame.”
“Just give me a call once you're back in town and I make sure to make time”
“Sounds like a deal”
After you boarded the train, you sat on a free place next to the window, as it started to move towards your destination. You recalled the past hour and felt the heat overcome your body once again, as your mind wandered off to the brown eyes that stared at you for the millionth time that day.
You remembered how Tom’s arm felt behind you, as he rested it on the back of his sofa. His fingers slightly touching your shoulder as you scooped up a little closer to him, trying to not make it too obvious that you enjoyed his little touches. There wasn’t much interaction between the two of you while watching Tom’s favourite TV show, which you learned that night. It was just the two of you, enjoying a Series and being close to each other. It wasn’t awkward or weird in any way, just nice and comfortable over all.
Deep down you wished, that he would’ve made a bigger move and one thing could’ve led to another but that would either mean you’d become friends with benefits, which you obviously didn’t want, or just a one time fling and he’d be gone forever because you couldn’t look him in the eyes once again. You liked the slow pace, you both unconsciously decided to have with the whole ‘getting to know’ scenario and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
But there was one thing worrying you: The Distance.
Taglist:
@hollandorks @beardedsteveslut @ilivefortomholland @casualprincess77 @agirlwithpointlessideas @isabellamozarella03 @MENDES-HOLLAND @thiswildfire @wastedheartnat @hollandbaby @moonofmy-life @smileylaurens @random-fandom-lady @heartoftheadventure @blackazkaban @augurydemon @homecomjng @punkass-potato @unfoldingdaydreams @thefriendlyneighborhoodspidey @rivedale @tiffanypooh
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I'm working on your ask, but here's some for you: I, A, M, S, P, O, T
Ask prompt here: x
thanks puffin!! this is gonna be long and nostalgic eyy
I - HasTumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?
I wouldn’t say “actively dislike” butthe toxicity of fandom on this website has sucked away most of my passion for Voltron lol. I used to really dig itthe first month or so after getting really into it when S2 aired. I still havean unfinished draft for a 7-parter rarepair fic //ey guess my fav duo ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)// sitting in my folders. don’t think I’llbe touching it any time soon though. im rather burnt out from this fandom, evenif I do still enjoy watching all the new seasons thereafter.
another is StevenUniverse ah a. (but in its and my defence, I wasn’t really into it anywaysas compared to other fandoms. the songs are still good, but I haven’t beenkeeping up with the newer Steven bombs, one part because of motivation, andanother because the thought of going into the tags to reblog contentintimidates the heck out of me pffft)
A - Ships that youcurrently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone hasOTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.
(puffin this question is gonnatake up half the ask oh god)oh bOY where do I start hahahaha. there’s so many aph and fe callbacks hahaha few otps aside I really have too manycrackpairs and platonic friendship ride-or-die squads I would die for. theseare only a few really relevant ones from the top of my head-
OTPS:
Norway/Vietnam (Hetalia) – alWAYS. i dont talk about and reblog much aph anymore but i still think about these two frequently. they were my first and closestthing ever to an actual otp in all my years of knowing what an otp was gosh Ihope to write about them again soon. their dynamics are the peak of mypreferences.
MU(avatar unit)/Silas (FE Fates) – thechildhood friends + loyal knight and liege trope + a pinch of memory loss wasnever really my thing, but guess there’s a first for everything ha h a ah a….silas is too pure for the angst I put him through im so sorry ಸ ل͜ ಸ
Berkut/Rinea (FE: SOV) – the second that one cutscene of these two played I got1000% more invested in the story pffft. anyways rinea may be top tier fav andberkut shit tier fav, and their story tragic as heck (and I would also arguethat he doesn’t deserve her), but their genuine and honest love for each otheramidst the incoming death flags gets me every time
707/MC (Mystic messenger) – honestly they can either be a really good platonicdynamic duo or a solid otp. purely from the perspective of my own MC, theycomplement each other well; perfect balance of light-hearted teasing and asolid wall of comfort for each other.
Ray-Saeran/MC (Mystic messenger) – ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ
(Other) Ships:
Seychelles/Iceland/HK (Hetalia) – they are good togetherromantically or platonically hahahaha. a good golden trio of kids
Russia/Vietnam (Hetalia) – their potential relationship and clashof character due to conflicting personalities fascinate me. a totally differentnoir vibe from norviet and one I hope to explore if I ever come back to aph
Nyx/Leo (FE Fates) – nyx ships are reallyrare but half of them are surprisingly sweet and poignant. Odin and Laslow tooare really sweet candidates to woo this jaded grandma’s heart.
MU/Laslow (FE Fates) – got to thank a wacky7-11 employee au dream I had for this one. but in the games their supportconversations are surprisingly thoughtful and low-key flirting which was notwhat I expected at all. wholesome.
Ham/Kai (MUxMU, FE) – remember when I said protag/protagships are the good stuff? yea h thatprincess tutu au is coming along swell
Alm/Celica (FE: SOV) – the rare main canon couple I love whodon’t die and get their happy ending (LOL this sounds really pathetic now thatI’ve said it)
Leon/Valbar (FE: SOV) – no one is surprised LOL. romantic orno, as long as leon is happy with where he stands with valbar and valbar ishappy with where he is im happy for them both
Conrad/Rinea (FE: SOV) – I know there are a couple of youreading this whos gonna give me that look but liste n; they could have met, and there is potential for them.(honestly this is just like another norviet situation where I put my 2 topfaves together for crackpair experimentation bUT IT WORKS I ASSURE YOU)
Zen/MC (Mystic messenger) – zen is so earnest that I can’t refute himhahaha. he also has a special seat in my mysme heart, since he was the firstroute I played and made me create content for the fandom proper
707/Jaehee (Mystic messenger) – they are rapidly gaining OTP status ꉂ (´∀｀)ʱªʱªʱª aaaa nightmare flashbacks because justlike norviet they really are the rarest of crackpairs and have almost to no content(gonna get down to business and churn fic out one day). these two are moresimilar than they’d think too.
Cecil/Haruka (Utapri) – ahahaha a good ship from a guiltypleasure fandom
(Purely) Platonic:
Izuku/Iida/Ochako (BNHA) – the first golden trio of thisseries. I love them so much.
Vanderwood/MC (Mystic messenger) – they parallel each other. truly thebiggest ride-or-die duo I will support to the end of time
Zen/Yoosung (Mystic messenger) – zen is such a mother hen to yoosungwwwww truly wholesome
Chise/Ruth (Ancient Magus Bride) – platonic master/familiar-partner relationships where both of them care for each other so much to the point where they would die for the other are my one weakness. its the reason i love writing more fleshed-out pokemon aus and loyal dogs/animals in longer fics. anyways these two are good
M - Name acharacter that you’d like to have for a friend.
707. It would be a trip justknowing him. (apart from the memes. but my life is already 80% meme, honestlywhats the difference ahahaha aaa-) Just, I feel like it would be really fun tohang out with him and revel in his wackiness (even if that personality is afront, maybe one day when i finally get into his inner-circle of friends, I hopeto be privy and be a good listening ear to his truer, more sombre personality.)
On the other hand, myself-confidence and 2nd hand embarrassment will be directlyproportional to each other (And im 100% sure Seven is the kind of person whowill exploit that hAH)
S - Show us anexample of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)
Every relevant character inMysmes is either a type of asexual (greysexual etc.), or on various points ofthe bi-spectrum. Yeah; even self-proclaimed, “straight-laced” Zen lol.
P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (wealways need more ideas)
Vampire/Selkie AU ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
a selkie whose skin gets stolen and hidden from a human man is forced to become his bride and taken back to his village. there, to escape the stares of bigoted villagers and the clutches of her overbearing and possessive husband, she takes refuge in the only place he would not go; the old holy church.
only, she finds she isn’t the first to occupy this place of solitude. the master of the church notices her soon enough, and when vampire recognises the ancient weave of magic that flows within her, he appears; intrigued for something other than a fresh meal.
(basically a deviation from the standard vampire (romance-ish) novels lolol plot bunny hit me pre-Christmas eve dinner/yesterday and sofar im digging it. still planning the ship and fandom though; it might very easily be OC-based)
O - Choose a songat random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?
since 1 is never enough, hereare 4 songs I was listening to recently:
Little Knights, Nem feat.Noire : Zen/MC(a zen-ish song through and through)
over and over, Yanagi Nagi : Saeran Choi + 707&MC(more saeran-centric with interpretative lyrics and referencing to both ray andunknown personas)
Finding something to do, HelloGoodbye : 707/Jaehee(fits their “don’t go where I can’t follow” dynamic haha ow.)
Life will Change, Shoji Meguro + Benjamin Franklin feat. Lyn Inaizumi : Kai(mui) or Ham(let)(honestly the entire persona 5 ost is massive fe fates protag feels)
T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons thatyou will die defending?
Not really. I’m a very flexible person when it comes tointerpretable lore and content, especially if it’s the type of HCs that thefandom collectively comes up with. Unless it’s a canon fact, I like to dabble orjust stay away from HCs in general. If I have to come up with some in my fics,then so be it. But most of the time these HCs are either super vague or onlyapply to the context in this particular piece or series of writing. Basically Idon’t mind switching HCs for charas frequently as long as it does notfundamentally change their own character. (HCs for hobbies and loves and habitsand relationships apart from their inner circle, etc. are all fine)
Honestly it just boils down to expectations lol I know myown limits, and I know not to be disappointed when canon updates end updebunking (popular) fandom HCs or my own.
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Trying to finish a multi-chapter fic (aka, Lilies & gunpowder progress update)
- *opens bottle of cheap wine* “Let’s do this, everyone!”
*looks around and realizes that I’m talking to my laptop*
- *rereads half of the story to look for any loose ties that are still left for me to solve out* (actually, no, that is a lie. I just can’t let fucking go of this and try to keep on dragging it out forever)
- “I feel like I’m actually gonna cry.”
- *reads angsty/sad/hysterically emotional scene from an earlier chapter*
[to my past self] “Whoa, tone it down you angsty piece of shit.”
- *finds a typo in an earlier chapter* “Sometimes I’m amazed by my own stupidity.”
- *tries to fight the urge to rewrite and edit the whole story*
- [to main characters] “Wow, guys, look how you’ve grown! No no, thank me later.” *chuckles maniacally*
- *reads fluffy scene from an earlier chapter*
[to my past self] “Wow. That was great, wanna travel in time and write this epilogue?”
- *begins to type*
- *mood shifts from mediocre motivation to anxiety within the first three words*
- “Oh my god, am I just ruining the whole story by writing this right now? Or is this still an appropriate follow-up to the plot?”
- “Why is earth?”
- “Okay, so do I want a happy ending or a realistic ending?”
- “Oh fuck it, I just want them to be happy.”
- *erases entire epilogue because it’s garbage*
- *regretting having erased it on the following day because it actually wasn’t that bad*
- “What am I doing with my life?”
- *breathes frantically into a paperbag*
- “I should have just ended this with the last chapter.”
- “Like honestly, nobody needs an epilogue, right?”
- *stares at a wall for a solid hour*
- “Boi, I really don’t want this to end.”
- “Boi, I really want to do this right.”
- [to characters] “I just feel like there’s still so much you haven’t told each other yet. There are still so many things left unsaid.”
- “Man, why does this feel like writing a speech for a funeral?”
- [to characters] “I’m not crying, YOU are!”
- *types furiously*
- “Damn, my hands are cold af.”
- *types, types, types*
- “Final words? HAHAHAHA, WHAT ARE FINAL WORDS? Never heard of that shit.”
- *adds a thousand more words*
- [to my reflection in the mirror when I take a toilet break] “Why did I even write this in the first place? This was the worst idea ever. Well, after deciding to go to med school...”
- “Oh, right. I just really like pain that much.”
- “How can I love and hate the same thing so very much at the exact same time?”
- “That’s a nice quote, let’s save it for a new fic.”
- “How many cigarettes am I granting myself per written word?”
- “Whoops, it’s three am and I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
- “Wait, did I have breakfast?”
- “Oh my gawwwd, my writing in chapter one was AWFUL! How did I trick people into reading this?”
- *puts on classical piano music to calm myself*
- *reads funny wordplay in an early chapter that no one’s probably noticed* “Hah, nicely done, me from the past.” (*finger guns*)
- *adds another thousand words*
- “A flashback scene of five-thousand words is appropriate, right?”
- “God, people are gonna hate this.”
- “Wow, look at that! When you’ve read cursive writing for hours, regular words begin to look like they are tilted to the left!”
- *puts on punk rock music to try and stay awake*
- *jams to music instead of committing to finish this damned epilogue*
- [to the characters] “Guys, I love you sooo much, you know that, right?”
- [to the characters] “I never meant to harm you in those first thirty-five chapters.”
- [to the characters] “Okay, actually I did, but just look at how happy you are right now!”
- *writes three-thousand words of angst*
- [to the characters] “Oh... sorry about that.”
- “Oh no, this isn’t going well...”
- *rereads what I’ve written so far* “Uhm... someone should send help because I’m appearantly losing my mind. Or just come to my house and shoot me.”
- “Why is my writing so awwwful?”
- *reads nice reviews to cheer myself up*
- “Why are people so nice to me?”
- “I don’t deserve this. This is all garbage.”
- *goes to bed*
- “Another day, another failure, I guess.”
Okay, on a more serious note...
That, dear people, is why the epilogue isn’t up yet.
It’s practically finished by now, it just needs the last touch ups of editing, but it’s really wearing me out.
I fear that it isn’t “good enough” and maybe that’s just because I struggle with the idea that it’s ending now. I think I’m overreacting. This still is my first fic and I have no idea if this is normal.
It will be up as soon as I get over myself. Hang in there and thanks for all of your patience and kind words.
Love y’all
#honestly#i'm sorry that it's taking me so long#i really hope it will be worth the wait#fanfiction#fanfic problems#mchart#lilies and gunpowder
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Blog Mission Statement
I don't intend for this to be a dry mission statement. Within this, I want to express every ounce of emotion that I can convey. I want YOU to feel this mission as deeply as I do. To be the place you can turn for answers, advice, motivation, and to show how "normal" it is to doubt yourself and struggle your way through this endeavor. Because, as the kids say, the struggle is real.
While actionable content is a huge focus of mine, I want to show you the struggles of the journey. To show the ways I get hung up on certain subjects, procrastinate, emotions I feel while trying to overcome obstacles, along with great tips and tricks along the way to aid ALL of us as we move forward no matter the resistance.
Nobody seems to talk about the late nights.
Y'know, the ones where you're pacing around with a dry erase marker in your hand in an almost frantic rage of "drive". Brainstorming, weighing options, and trying to figure it all out for yourself. Connect the dots on the whiteboard, strategizing, and dreaming. Alone.
Moments such as those are the true reality of this business.
While this is primarily a "make money online" blog, that is not the main focus. I want to laser in on the mindset shifts, the overarching concepts, and some of the "meta" of the industry. I'm confident that I can shine some light on to the reality of this difficult life path.
To be honest, this blog is both selfish and selfless. I've created it due to recommendations from the community I've connected with for within the e-com space, but there are other motives.. After reading "you should be an author" or "you should start a blog" enough times, it started to click. I was there asking for advice on e-commerce, details of the business, and while people were suggesting actionable tactics, I noticed that recurring theme. People were often "advising" me to write more than they were suggesting business tactic. Lightbulb!
With that in mind, I set off to start writing. I LOVE to write but have rarely considered it to be something that would work its way into my routine.
Upon some careful thought, though, it was completely logical. Not only would it be a way to help people through the journey, but it would be a way to connect with the type of people that my spirit is craving. The like-minded, ambitious, opportunity seeing crowd of people that are disgusted with the "average" in life. People that aren't content to do things the way that tradition has preached. The people that see through the indoctrination of almost any school system in the world, and started using their very own brain to come up with better ways.. real solutions.
I've spent an inordinate amount of time on this "study of success" space. Building my own personal crew of mentors out of the content available. What other choice do I have? There aren't many mentors walking around the streets of Kettering or even working in the business (or running the businesses) of Ohio. They're rare.
People such as Gary Vee, Tim Ferris, Simon Senek, Grant Cardon, Les Brown, Wayne Dyer, Neopolean Hill, Bob Proctor, Leo Gura, Eric Thomas, Alex Becker, Miles Beckler, Elliot Hulse, Robert Greene, Jim Carry, Will Smith, Alan Watts, Franklin Hatchet, Ritto Ban, Arie Shafer, just aren't as available for a skype call as I would like. They are online in video/audio form and have spent their lives trying to help ours. We're blessed in our modern day to have the ability to study these lessons. It's a gift to be able to devour the words of these mentors, reprogram your mind, and in the process change your entire trajectory in life.
As much of a blessing as it is, it's still a curvy path to follow. On one hand, I get caught up in analysis paralysis to the point of not being able to take ANY action due to information overload. On the other hand, I can use my critical thinking to start to see the "patterns". When enough successful people say THE SAME THINGS, they start to become a type of "law" in my mindset.
An example of a "law" of business:
"Networking is an integral component of success".
But how? How do I "network"? Join Facebook groups? I tried that and it wasn't productive. I would ask questions that went ignored, was talked down to, felt I was being spied on, or sold to. The questions that people asked in these groups became repetitious and my brain started to "block out" the noise.
If not online, maybe real life? Maybe if I talked about business, Shopify, and building your own dream enough people would listen! Nope. It's met with short-lived interest followed by a "glazed over" look. Maybe I could pull someone close to me into the mix, become business partners and make it happen together? Nope. After about two weeks I realized that it was my dream and that no one else was going to have this level of motivation to improve. The people I love haven't studied success, haven't become successful, and don't understand what it takes. Hell, I'm not even sure I know what it takes, but I'm a stubborn individual.
Another example of a "law" of business:
"Help people. True success comes when you start giving more than you expect to receive". "Give 51%, Receive 49%".
Again, how? I don't feel like I'm any more knowledgeable than anyone else in the online space. How can I help when I feel that I NEED help? I'm not that good at all of this stuff. Maybe this blog will be the way. Maybe there is a voice that needs to be expressed in this space, and I can help express it. Maybe if I offer the bits and pieces that I DO know, it will be enough to help people that are struggling.
Those are just two examples. I could list a lot more, but I plan on saving that for a future blog. Maybe a "10 commandments of E-commerce" post? Hah. I like that idea.
In the two above examples of business "law" lies the core reason for the blog. A place to help people, give of myself, as well as a place to connect the people that will be key to success in their life and mine.
I needed a type of strategy for this aspect of success, and this is my current solution. Using the written word to connect with the people I most want to connect with.
I plan on pouring it all out there, so be prepared. This blog isn't intended to sell anything or to glorify e-commerce and business in any way. There is enough of that in the world. We need more "real" in this space.
As the blog progresses I would like to use it as "outlines" for YouTube videos that I plan on creating. This kills two birds with one stone (blog). Wait. Why does anyone want to kill birds with stones? Strange saying..
Being a conceptual person, I need some structure to my thoughts as a foundation, I'm hoping that this blog is that answer.
"Writing is crystallized thought" - Tim Ferris.
Practicing self-awareness has taught me that this is just how I function. I need to place my thoughts on to a page before I can progress. To see it in a strategic way, before I act. While a Youtube channel is the "ideal" way to connect, give value, and improve visibility, I need THIS first.
That's about it for now. I've posted a quick running list of the blog ideas that I have and the subject that need to be tackled. If you've made it this far into the post, I want to thank you.
Sometimes just being "heard" is enough to raise the spirit.
More to come.
Mike
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Brush Strokes of Pain and Love
Did you think I was your "How to be a Man” guide?
The way that I've proven to be for so many men before you.
The one that would come into your life and show you what to love about yourself. The one that would show you what it means to accept the parts about yourself that aren't perfect that add to your character, and to change the parts that are harmful to your own well being and the people around you.
Because I did show you these things, and that I've taken pride in... but with that pride, now also comes slight resentment since you’ve cut me out of your life.
This is where I feel conflicted... because when you love someone, you're supposed to do so outside of your own needs and wants... but is that philosophy actually one of loving someone and being in love with them? Or does it just mean that you have a love FOR someone?
There’s a fine line.
[Fuck. Maybe I'm just as confused during this period as you claim to be... Maybe it's been awhile since I took an introspective view on myself, and how my emotions influence my views on what i deserve. Supposedly we accept the love we think we deserve. Do I deserve this though? Do I deserve to keep investing my time and emotions into people that don’t return that effort? I used to feel like a badass bitch that was motivated with goals... now I honestly just feel like a straight bitch half of the time, lacking the badass qualities I once possessed. I feel jaded, and bitter because of it; I hate that I feel this way. I (subconsciously) carried all the dead weight in this relationship, which took my focus away from the things that I loved to do… which ironically probably made me less desirable for you. What a fucking joke.]
I'm more than just a mirror that reflects the most realist version of you. You, just like so many other men, play it cool. You have this easy going facade up to fool everyone around you. But the people that actually know you, see beneath the surface.
I see beneath the distracting glare of your glossy surface.
I didn't just see beneath the surface... I scratched it... revealing underlying demons that needed to be dealt with. I excavated your soul. I bet that scares the shit out of you. Honestly, it scares the shit out of me too. It all scares me, because you picked scabs of mine that never fully healed... leaving me alone with deeper emotional scars than what I had before. I’m now left with thoughts like: how could you do this to me? Letting me think that I could trust this part of myself in your hands, just for you to abandon me? I lent you strength to approach the skeletons in your closet, and you left before ever returning that strength to me to deal with my own issues. We could’ve grown together. Why are you okay with seeing me this way? I’m a fucking wreck… will I be the artist that created this “new and improved” painting of you, that won’t get recognition for all the grueling late nights, blood, sweat, and mostly tears that were spent together? I was there too, you know. I put in the time too. Did I just make you really great for someone else, at my expense? Is this where I send you an invoice for my time and investment? [I’m obviously joking with that last question; don’t mind me. Just trying to keep my sanity here, people!!!!! Okay, back to the heavy.]
I knew you.
Or I suppose I thought that I did, though lately you've been full of surprises. Surprises that leave me both confused and disabled all at once. How did something that felt so right and natural go so wrong somewhere along the line? Maybe that's part of my issue? My inability to accept the way that things are between us right now. I met you and genuinely felt like I had met my best friend; my soul mate. Everything just fit together effortlessly to make this puzzle picture of this beautiful image I had dreamt up in my head.
[I suppose it was also my mistake to build a vision based off teasers that you fed my imagination about our possible future together. Another question… how was I supposed to know how confused you were, when you seemed so sure about me? Remove everyone from the group discussion that is “us”, and just leave you and me. From what you have told ME, how am I supposed to think?]
I saw into the deepest, darkest, untouched corners of your soul... and I made myself at home, offering my time and help to unpack your baggage WITH YOU. I suppose that was my mistake, huh? To make myself too available to you...I mean, where was the fun in that for you? Where was the challenge? Once you knew you had me wrapped around your finger, why continue to try… right? It's not your fault I got attached and allowed myself to be a fool for you. Maybe "fool" isn’t the right word... you didn't intentionally fool me... but I definitely made myself oblivious to the extent of where you were (are... you're not dead... just no longer an active part of my life.) in your journey, and what that would mean for you... for us... and in turn me...
[To my dismay, you're one of the most genuine, honest people I've ever encountered in my life... which has been not only a blessing to my life and shown me how amazing love can feel, but also a burden to my heart now that I've lost you to the black abyss that is known as the "unforeseeable future". How do you un-taste the sweetest of fruit that fed your soul? I can’t ask myself this question without also begging the question of “How do you un-taste the most sour of fruit that left a scowl on your face?” ]
But I also need to take my “graduation goggles” off and be honest with myself… I love(d) you fiercely. With my words and my actions. I made a point to make sure a day never went by without you knowing how much I loved you, and I chose to do so even when it wasn’t being reciprocated. It was my choice to stay and ride it out. This doesn’t pardon you for your actions, but I do share the burden of where this relationship failed.
I don’t hate you- as much as I fucking wish I could, because I know that none of your actions were done with malicious intent (Even though, ghosting my ass was super uncool. Hopefully one day we can clear the air regarding that because, my heart, ego, and trust took a pretty big hit from that.)... but if I’m being real with you right now, I’m pretty upset with you [but still love you deeply]. You still have my a huge chunk of my heart, which is partially why the hurt runs so deep.
Bone shakingly deep.
If you were to call me and say that you needed me, I would still drop everything and be there for you. Even after everything is all said and done. And that’s honest.. And probably not healthy. hah.I can’t just sit here on this plane and pretend to myself or anyone else that I wouldn’t.
As much as we may think our curious minds may be up to the task of trying to understand emotions, we’re not always. Some things are out of your control and you can only control how you respond to the circumstances that find you. Shitty. I know. Trust me, I’m definitely not happy about it either...
Suspended in air and time.
Flying is such a beautiful thing. There's something romantic about the idea of soaring above everything and stopping time almost. Whenever I fly anywhere, it's like time freezes. Maybe that's why flights can be so emotional? Because for even those few hours, you're floating above all of the commotion and distractions, and for those moments that you’re suspended in the air, you can't run from the way you feel. I'm writing this right now as I'm on a plane ride home from LA, and had to take a break to allow myself to cry. Shit's intense, and luckily I'm on this flight that is only half full. Hah. I’ve gotten really good at crying in public. In the past 6 weeks it’s kinda become my thing.
The moral here, after all this drawn out writing and me trying to purge myself of all my anger, hurt, frustration, and ultimately love IS: I was fine before you. I’m currently not… but I know that I will be again. You may never re-enter my life, but then again you might. Either way, I need to move on. And I’m making my peace with that.
Now listen to this song.
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