Feat - Screaming Alphas.
Am I kicked out of the fandom yet or
Alright but have we talked about this fiasco yet
Admittedly inactive, but never idle, I was busy with this: A hand-carved wooden Keyblade replica a friend has commissioned from me, complete with leather handle and decorative wallmount. Very pleased with the final result, and learned a great deal making this one! I am also more than happy to make more if people were interested in purchasing one for themselves. Just message me via my website!
"Will the others be here soon?"
"They shouldn’t be long. Tae-san told me they are all on their way."
"Can you take me to the food stalls? I want to get some okonomiyaki before they arrive."
"Whatever you want, Aoba-san."
It was Clear who rescued him.
Aoba doesn’t remember -memories from his time in captivity tend to twist and distort in his mind.
He can vaguely recall being on that surgical table, but he doesn’t remember Clear preparing to remove his vocal cords or the sound of the scalpel hitting the floor. If he concentrates enough, he might recover the faint memory of Clear muttering to himself in a corner.
Aoba doesn’t remember, but he was lying on that table for three whole days, drifting in and out of consciousness, before the android picked him up, wrapped him in a sheet and walked out of Oval Tower with the broken body in his arms.
No one tried to stop them; they had both long outlived their purpose as test subjects.
This moment of selflessness was the one thing that saved Clear from being torn apart at the hands of his loved ones once the truth was revealed. He faced their anger, pain and disgust in silence. He couldn’t apologise, he couldn’t even explain himself. All he wished for was an internal system which didn’t flood his thought processes with errors and white noise.
He offered himself to them, to punish or destroy -whichever they deemed fit. Aoba wanted him back, though, so they decided to fix him.
They spent almost as much time reprogramming him as they did rehabilitating Aoba -the two of them kept apart for almost a year, until everyone was certain that Clear was stable and safe.
"Will you catch some goldfish for me?"
"Yeah, We used to keep a pair when I was small. Granny used to love them. I think she would appreciate a present."
"I’ve never caught goldfish before."
"It’s alright, Koujaku will be there to help you. He’s a champion at this. He was the one who taught me how to do it when we were both kids."
"I…I’ll do my best."
Once allowed near Aoba, Clear never left his side.
He had no need for sleep, no job, no purpose, no life outside of Aoba now. He would carry him anywhere he wanted to go, cook his meals and clean his room, feed him and bathe him, read books and sing to him whenever he wished.
Aoba was his master and the center of his existence. It would take a while to undo all the damage Toue had done to his cyberbrain, but the more his old personality returned, the more guilt ate Clear from the inside out. Still, he was determined to contain it. Aoba needed him and he couldn’t afford to spend any energy on regret when he had so much to atone for.
It took years to restore Aoba’s smile -for the longest time he was little more than an empty shell and all they could do was keep him alive.
Slowly, their collective efforts brought him back from the void, piece by piece. He’d never be the same -in body or mind- but he could laugh again and that was a start.
"Are you alright, Aoba-san? You are fidgeting and moving a lot."
"I’m just excited for the fireworks. When are the fireworks starting?"
"Will you describe them to me?"
Step 1: take out and plug in tablet
Step 2: open up art program of your choice
Step 3: pull up a reference image or two
Step 4: set a music playlist
Step 5: scroll tumblr dash for 3 hours
Step 6: cry
FOREIGN LANGUAGES (✿◠‿◠)
FICTIONAL LANGUAGES (^▽^)
SPEAKING ANOTHER LANGUAGE (◑‿◐)
WRITING ANOTHER LANGUAGE ( ^▽^)
L I N G U I S T I C S (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧