Fic Summary: Fugo and Bucciarati interrogate one of Diavolo’s surviving loyalists in Milan a few days after the fateful Battle for the Arrow, but the prisoner has a trick up his sleeve—and the torturer soon becomes the tortured.
it’d be a lie to say that things hadn’t changed between the two of them after jungwoo’s sudden confession. haknyeon, in all honesty, still feels terrible for the way he’d handled it; telling jungwoo that he couldn’t quite support his friend, when a part of him was aware that perhaps that was what jungwoo needed the most at that moment. but haknyeon was never a liar, or at least, he could never really lie to jungwoo. he was aware that when he spoke his truth, it probably wasn’t something that jungwoo wanted to hear, and would’ve perhaps put a dent into their relationship.
amongst that and them suddenly being thrown a new member, and haknyeon a new role in the group, he hasn’t been able to focus on much. he treats jungwoo like he normally would in moments where he forgets what had happened, but it’s different when he catches jungwoo looking at ricky for a moment too long. he wants to tell jungwoo that it’s silly of him to throw all his years of training and debut away for falling in love with a member, but he doesn’t of course. falling in love, is all the same, but it’s much different than the situation he and the other members are in; they aren’t in the same group, won’t constantly be seeing one another –– and if anything were to happen (a break up, a fight, anything really), it wouldn’t potentially have lingering effects on their group dynamics. he wants to support jungwoo, really, but he doesn’t know how to with so many of these worries. the most he can do for jungwoo, he thinks, is give him a pat on the back, and maybe for the sake of their friendship, let jungwoo deal with his career on his own.
they’re both alone in the practice room, perhaps the first time they’ve actually been alone since the incident. haknyeon’s staring at his reflection, sweat dripping down his forehead after having practiced his dancing when he turns to jungwoo. something should be said, maybe to clear the air. haknyeon doesn’t like how rigid their relationship has been feeling, and he knows that it’s his fault for speaking so honestly and being unable to give jungwoo support. “i’m sorry,” he says, “if i … no,” he shakes his head, this isn’t how a proper apology should go. “i hurt your feelings when i spoke the other day, i was being too insensitive with my words. i’m sorry.” he bites on his lip, maybe he could’ve ended his apology there, but something digs at him to continue. “i was worried about you, and your career. but i realize, it’s not my place. you’re smart enough to take care of yourself.”
When the whumpee is finally safe and their team starts patching them up, but it’s painful enough that the whumpee can’t hold still, so their teammates have to hold them down. One of the whumpee’s teammates gently shushing them and stroking their hair in an attempt to soothe them as they lay there, promising that it would be over soon, and then they could get some rest. The whumpee closing their eyes and leaning into their teammate’s touch, trying to focus on it instead of the pain. When it’s all finally over, that teammate gently picking the whumpee up and carrying them to bed, then sitting with them and playing with their hair again as they fall asleep, hoping their presence brings the whumpee some comfort.
When the whumpee is finally safely home and their team starts to patch them up, and the whumpee is so exhausted that they don’t have the energy to do anything other than lay there and let them work. Their teammates being as gentle as they can as they care for the whumpee’s injuries, trying to cause them as little pain as possible. One teammate gently manhandling the whumpee so wounds can be bandaged more easily, and the whumpee just letting them, trusting them not to hurt them. The whumpee eventually dozing off as their teammates work, too tired to even stay awake until their teammate’s have finished tending to them, and their teammates finishing up as quickly as possible and settling them under blankets, then settling in to wait for them to wake up.
Whumpee drifting in and out of consciousness, back and forth, over and over. Sensing that Caretaker is waiting by their side, wanting to wake up and stay alert for a proper reunion, but their exhausted mind and body just keep dragging them back down.
When the whumpee is hurt badly enough that moving causes them pain, but they’re too restless to sit still. The caretaker doing everything they can think of to try to get the whumpee to settle down, but everything they try failing, until they try singing quietly to them, and holding them while playing with their hair. The whumpee finally being able to relax, letting the caretaker’s voice and touch lull them to sleep.
A week ago yesterday, Bruce Lewis, creator and original writer/artist of Robotech: Invid War Aftermath (published by Eternity and later Academy Comics, 1993-1995), lost his battle with brain cancer and passed away. In memory of him, I posted my interview with Mr. Lewis from 2007 to the ol’ YouTube channel with a newly recorded intro and outro – the latter featuring an email I received from him just a year ago.
The GoFundMe set up for his family during his fight with cancer is still accepting donations as of this writing and can be found here.
The Rolling Stones, Aftermath, London Records, 1966. Ten Years After, (The Ten Years After Album), Decca Records, 1967. Taken from London/Decca catalog inner sleeve.
A year or so had passed after escaping LO when I came across the term “psychological abuse”. Up until that point I didn’t know I’d been abused and I’d been judging myself for still being so emotional about the past. I didn’t have the space in my new relationship with David to speak about the details of what I’d gone through so I kept a lot of the truth inside. But as I read about the signs and symptoms that day, I realized I finally had a name for it. The way he would insult me and scream at me, his extreme possessiveness, the explosive anger and threats he would use to control me—it all fell under the umbrella of psychological abuse. This was a huge step forward in my recovery because there was a sense of detachment from the turmoil now, an understanding that the inner chaos I was experiencing was an appropriate response to this sort of trauma. Now that I could identify what I’d been through , I could educate myself on it and learn how to move forward. || #Carborundum for calm and gentle grounding. Said to help with inner expansion in an orderly and organized manner.
Ain’t no hurricane gonna take me down. Beautiful tides these days. Grateful for it being nothing more than an inconvenience in my life. #aftermath #hurricane #hightide #sunset #landscape #charleston (at Stono River)
Australia’s east-coast bushfires of 2019-2020 have been extinguished for some time now, but the rafts of charred debris continue to linger on our beaches, leaving a permanent record of the events of last summer.
Such records, when successfully preserved in sedimentary environments, is what scientists study to better understand what fire regimes were like in the past, so we have better idea what is to come.
