#it doesn’t even label the chapters correctly I think

[ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa]

Different kind of a killing game

[parts said by others start with their names, also this one is incredibly long and goes into post-game saiou angst]

Hina: Okay so moving from ⁠gore-discussions because this wasn’t exactly gore: Ideas for alternative motives for V3. The one that I’m thinking about very much right now is the idea of a prisoners dilemma type motive The general idea of the prisoners dilemma is: any number of prisoners in a group have an option of giving information to authorities in order to lessen their sentence. If one person gives information, they will be let off with a much shorter sentence, at the consequence of the other prisoners getting a heavier one, but if they all stay quiet, they keep the same regular length sentence. If they all expose each other, they all get the heavier sentence The idea hinges around what humans do in a situation where trust like this is involved. The best outcome for all parties is if everyone stays quiet, but if one person decides to sell them out, they’re at risk of a larger sentence So yeah, that and put it in V3

Oliver: What information would they have that monokuma would want??

Hina: It doesn’t necessarily have to be information It’s mainly the choice of whether to do what the authority figure wants at the cost of selling out the group I’d imagine it like this. Monokuma gives them a period of time to investigate and then tells them theyll be given a vote on who the mastermind is If you correctly vote the mastermind, you get to leave no consequences. If you vote incorrectly, however. The person that you voted for will die and you’re labeled their blackened. If nobody votes, you all get to continue the game without any risks So here’s the dilemma. Even if they all know with 100% certainty who the mastermind is, the mastermind can still vote wrong and kill a person, even if the rest get out And the other option is they have to trust the idea that nobody votes and they all love

Checkers: can they see who votes first?

Hina: No, They don't know who, Unless they're watching each other That's another fun part, Watching their behavior as they vote Cause I'm assuming they're voting at rhe trial podiums So they can all see each other too

[some time was spent talking about which chapter this motive should be introduced in & speculating about what would happen in the suggested scenarios, but that won't be relevant bc of a later decision]

Hina: I just xame to a beautiful discovery This would be the perfect motive for a Mastermind Shuichi AU Like it's right up his alley eith the detective thing

Oliver: IMAGINE IF IT WAS A REPEATING MOTIVE…….. you could actually make a whole death game out of that

Hina: No but did you know that's actually a second part to the prisoners dillema There's a second aspect to the prisoners dillema related to: What would happen the more times the situation was repeated Would they start working together over time realizing it's bad for them Would they use exposing each other as bargaining chips. Like. "If you let me lessen my sentence today I'll let you lessen yours tomorrow"

Oliver: I was thinking if it were a repeating motive, it could practically be the whole gimmick of the killing game. Like imagine two people die from being voted for. One blackened, and one person who gets away scot-free but killed the other person with their vote. The blackened gets caught, because Shuichi, but maybe someone else finds out who the other voter was, and kills them because the other person who died was close to them. Another trial, and then another Prisoner's Dilemma Vote

Hina: You want to know another fun idea If this is a simulation in which Shuichi doesn't care because he knows he's gonna live and is playing observer In a scenario where they've voted out blackened to die They're given the option of thus "If everyone says yes, I'll bring back half the dead participants at random. If any specific people are voted for, they will be brought back and the rest stay dead" So now it's a choice of bringing back the most people, or trying to guarantee that the person you care for most comes vack It's the reverse dilemma And there's probably people you don't want to come back so Do you really want to risk your best friend not coming back, in favor of someone you hate Mastermind can vote someone they don't want back into the ftay Imagine Kokichi gets voted out on pretenses of people suspecting him Nobody wanted to bring him back, so Shuichi used his vote to guarantee he was brought back Now there's dealing with the fact of. Hey, I'm alive again At the cost of someone who goes against mg moral code in every way being the person to do ir

I am imagining them doing the dillema as a bonus after getting the normal trial vote right so right after 4th trial would be good

this also made me think of a killing game on fully different rules, where if they fail to get away as a blackened they're not executed since the only goal is finding the mastermind. they would be doing only the mastermind vote after trials, with the option to skip, but generally, they get two chances to eliminate mastermind per chapter, first by setting up the murder, and then second if the group figured out the murder and get to vote, if somebody gets away with murder, they leave on their own, the group will be allowed to leave if mastermind is eliminated, and that's with keeping in mind that voting for someone means killing them, but they don't have to worry about being executed for getting it wrong, it's just about their morals.

Checkers: what if the mastermind is killed?

the game ends

there should be a hard limit of how many people can be voted out per trial too, so it doesn't end too fast, like "only first three votes will count, so decide quickly" or even less. I think, with the presence of mastermind being known and everyone working against them rules would be way stricter in general, mass murder wasn't allowed to begin with, here it's "you've only got one shot", it only gets reset if everyone still alive has blood on their hands (either by murder or vote) or, my first idea, was it being reset every chapter after vote, aka the killer couldn't vote in the same chapter, but the idea of everybody having blood on their hands come final chapter is spicier,

Checkers: if you vote correctly you leave and if majority votes correctly the mastermind dies?

not in my version, it's enough for one correct vote to kill the mastermind, only the first three who vote register, even if they're all skips, people who voted for someone or killed directly would break a rule and therefore be punished for getting another person killed before it's reset because of a lack of spotless

Checkers: if only the first three register then there might be a lot more panic over voting maybe they rush to vote without thinking as much so. I propose. monokuma changes the voting layout midgame, they were ready to vote and clicked really fast but didn't realize they voted wrong until it was too late

yeah, that panic is what's I was going for, they gotta be locked in and ready to get someone killed the moment voting pulls up Kokichi is a big fan of getting in a "skip" as one of those 3 but not everybody thinks like that the first time, he's just like, "oh, then we can all press skip, nice, easy." and then there's a bang.

they could [reveal who they voted for], but they're not obligated to,

Checkers: I think they would, or others might force them to say it. it prevents a lot of wasted votes/kills

they don't even know if their votes are the ones that registered until the voting is done and acted on, the votes that registered get revealed but without information who put them in, so if somebody voted the same as you just faster you wouldn't know and just think that's probably your vote, some might try to get others to vote the same as them if they're convinced somebody's the mastermind, but if they got other motives for trying to eliminate someone, they'd rather stay quiet,

I think since it's more of a cat & mouse game between mm and others, there would be messages from them included in the rewards they get, one a real hint and one misleading, they just have to decide which is which, those would replace the flashback lights I guess,

mm Shuichi would listen to what others are suggesting to him, making Kaito think that he is relying on him, but actually he's only okay with voting on Kokichi because he's planning to bring him back later, great for the plot, but not mm Shuichi would mostly just skip until he had solid evidence someone is the mastermind

Sini: The thing is, I can see some people not even voting the mastermind here. Like, someone could vote for the killer as revenge or for the safety of the group. Or, someone might vote cause they know they themselves are likely to be voted as the mastermind and they want to take the chance of being the first vote that can take the person who will vote them out as a means of saving their own skin. Like, Himiko could vote Korekiyo off for example. And the last scenario could absolutely fit Kokichi, though the question is, would he actually do that? Given how he is in game, I think he would as it is just one of the sacrifices he'd have to make in order to end the game himself

yes, you get my vision 100% what I meant by "other motives" he could still make Gonta do it, he'd tell him it's to raise their chances, but it'd be actually because he knows he himself would hesitate but also consider: he doesn't make it far enough this time too sus for his own good

Sini: Little guy dies before he can even think to do that or pull it off…

he'd get voted out as soon as the second trial, then mastermind would bring him back after the 4th, the group dynamic would be a lot different, some would probably be more willing to trust him now, knowing he's not the mm, but that too depends on how well he copes with that

somebody voted him out, in fact, most likely multiple people voted for him, and now that he's back… they expect cooperation? he teams up with Shuichi because he's the one that voted him back in, or so he says, can't fully trust that, but hopefully? more than others

I think this one vote would become public because they'd have an argument after seeing Ouma brought back and make each other admit to their votes, there was some suspicion and talking behind backs and asking each other one on one before, but this is the one where it would become a whole ordeal of peer pressure, so the brought back peeps would know who claims them (and why would anyone risk lying about that? they didn't, right? that's the last person who'll want to hurt me, right?)

if saiouma had rights I could say that Shuichi brought him back because he wanted to get to know him better, continued to wonder about the mysterious boy, it would be a second chance for them, but. Mastermind Saihara is the better explanation

I don't know, can they still have something complicated going on post-game if Saihara is the mastermind? What it would take for Kokichi to be conflicted and don't straight up hate him after they leave vr? cause being brought back wouldn't be enough and actually only make the betrayal worse

Sini: I think the only thing that could make Kokichi not fully hate Shuichi is if Shuichi had his personality and memories screwed up Like, he was made to be the mm

I dunno, I don't want it to be that, if he's altered it's a little bit, like, everyone got Enhanced to be Ultimates, but then that means they did sign up, and he volunteered to be the mastermind and he's himself with new cool knowledge and skills, but that's about it. I want Kokichi to be forced to think about his morals, to have to notice good things in Saihara who is the ringleader, made those motives, and unfortunately proven to him that none of them are better than him (remember the counter being reset by the final chapter, that's important, even though that means this one would have more chapters than canon)

he's going to have to think about how Saihara was doing a silly little social experiment knowing it's not real, while the lot of them was killing for real, thinking it'll be permanent, and how Saihara never was the blackened, and kept the game fair with the hints and lead it to the conclusion since his goal never were to keep them trapped in the hell loop, and how he cared & patched him up when he got injured

he wants to believe Saihara was just being manipulative, but it doesn't add up

Sini: I meant more like he was forced to be the mm but I see what you're saying. Maybe Kokichi doesn't hate him as much cause he sees himself to be just as awful as him? Or maybe there are aspects to Shuichi that have him feel bad for him. And yeah! He sees how he was at least fair about everything. But I'm gonna be real, I don't think Kokichi could ever forgive him or even see him in a good light. He might not fully hate him, he could give him some props for certain things, but he is still the one that made everyone do all that horrible shit. Even if it wasn't real, it felt real. It was real to them. It doesn't matter if Shuichi does actually care for him, he still manipulated him and everyone else. He would want to see the good in him, but all the stuff I mentioned could never be enough and what he's done could never just be ignored. Just because Kokichi might see himself in a similar awful light doesn't mean he's going to give Shuichi that much charity. How I see it, it could never work

I love pg Shuichi who's been neglected and clung to the comfort show, so I imagine him going far past interacting enough not to be suspicious, he's thrilled to make friends, loves having a talent and therefore finally being special enough to hold people's attention, have something to connect with them instead of just offputing people with his fannish rambles about executions and from ch5 on to the end he would be the closest to Kokichi, so he would be trying to get that back, he's attached

I am just trying to paint the picture of, memory manipulation is barely still on the table, no flashback lights, no identity changing stuff or big gaps in memory, a lot more defined rules, cards on the table about how things work, the choice being fully theirs: stay or try to leave, I'll even give you a hint. He was mostly an observer in the whole thing

Ves: much harder in on them being his friends than tsumugi is. he's actually MORE like junko in that way, huh

bro's not even giving them motives, he's getting so much blackmail material just from being able to check who voted what and he's not using it, he's just there to hang out with his friends, and maybe study their behaviour under immense stress hahaha

Hina: I like the idea of Mastermind Shuichis game being a character study

Ves: were they friends pregame [my reply] no, he had no friends, this is his idea of an ice-breaker, he's just getting to know them better this is the best way to really get to know who people are at their core, trust him, he learned a lot on the internet

Sini: So they're all the same in that they gave themselves up to DR and while responsible for their own actions, were taken advantage of by Team DR? [my reply] I guess, yeah?

Ves: he made fifteen friendship bracelets in preparation

he thought it's going to be like solving a locked room together, a nice bonding activity, it's basically the same thing if you're as desenitized to death as he was! He was helping through leaving hints! It wouldn't be fun if he made it too easy, but he did a good job adjusting the difficulty level for the group, he's a good game master he gave them a good journey on the way to the victory that was always eventual, he cheered them on

Ves: im gonna cry he's sweet in the worst possible way v3's world rlly fucks up everybody who lives in it huh everyone who 'died' is just backstage with juiceboxes he does not see the problem

Sini: Man, I feel like that would make Kokichi hate him more, if that makes any sense. At least at first, anyway. Cause he's so sad and sweet yet did the most horrible things. He doesn't see anything wrong with what he did.

"I was worried I am going to fumble and get caught early, but I am glad I was able to give everyone a good season despite my anxiousness" gives that small smile

Sini: I feel like when they get mad at him, he cries jwjhhwef He only wanted to have fun : (

Ves: kokichi how could you POSSIBLY be mad at this guy. the murder does not count as a reason

Sini: His heart definitely doesn't hurt when he makes him cry. Definitely not

Ouma lashes out at him (post game, because in game he was in too much shock to bring up personal feelings about how it affects him as an individual, instead of talking about The Whole Thing) and he's like" "but I thought- I thought that we, that you… nevermind" hides the notebook full of ideas for what they might do together now that they're out and runs away, crying

Ves: he deserves it but like that's my son my beloved son who has committed war crimes

He was SO going to ask him out if Kokichi didn't bring him back down to earth

Ves: he's borderline delusional abt all this and when he gets a healthier mindset the self hatred is gonna hit harder than even canon shuuichi

Checkers: he specifically asked the backstage ppl to give Kokichi the nice juicebox brand. That’s rly romantic right

Sini: Knowing this now, I think when Kokichi finally accepts that he made the choice to join danganronpa and that they were all in the worst mindsets when getting into the recent season will he, not forgive Shuichi, but not be so mad at him anymore. He's more angry at DR than anything. He's still uncomfortable around him, his trust issues really keep him still feeling strong about what Shuichi did to him, but he holds no real strong feelings against him. He just feels bad for him

Ves: oh is this official danganronpa? somehow i got the impression that it was a fan project like in a warehouse somewhere

it's official they all audition and get on location, their memory of getting there it's closer to thh, "I came in here, lost consciousness and then suddenly it was Like That" Shuichi didn't do anything illegal, he just hosted a season of a popular tv show and they all got juiceboxes!

Ves: they WANTED to do this fun and normal team building exercise why are they so MAD at him!!! completely unfair i think he'd get really offended if they imply he was like. faking his grief at the deaths. because he DID grieve! his tears were genuine!! just…in a nice, comfortable, cathartic sort of way. he always knew he'd be going home he cried like you cry at a sad tv show the others cried like it was real

Sini: Like that's what really pisses them off. He saw it all as a show when they saw it as reality

the disconnect is more at a level as if they were playing D&D, of course he's invested and he's sad if someone has to leave the game he's going to miss them, but they'll see each other later, it's fine. And, well, he's not happy to see his dear friends fighting or upset, obviously, but those things happen and in the end it'll all be resolved, in the matter of a few weeks at most

Ves: it's just LARPing at the end of the day. them not KNOWING that doesn't count because they asked for it to be that way. he's helping!! he's facilitating what they wanted!! he brought juiceboxes!!!!!!! tsumugi we bonded over being DMs how are you mad at me now

What if. What if they're siblings. What if one of their parents is a Team DR executive/ some higher up. What if they both auditioned for the mastermind. Pitched in their ideas. What if angry pg Tsumugi left a letter for her future self talking about her bitch ass brother stealing her chance to finally get their attention. What if post game Tsumugi lived to see said parent never visit either of them despite working in the same building. What if she saw her old self in Shuichi, nearly mirror like. What if it terrified her

Sini: Not getting the role was the best thing to happen to her…

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma #saiouma #oumasai #tsumugi shirogane #kaito momota #gonta gokuhara #korekiyo shinguji #himiko yumeno #tenko chabashira #angie yonaga #au #writing inspiration #writing prompt #made by me

[shazzeaslightnovels]

Kami wa Game ni Ueteiru 5

Author: Kei Sazane

Illustrator: Tomoe Toiro

Label: MF Bunko J

Release Date: 25 August 2022

My Score: 3/5

The first game this volume is a basketball game against a god team. The basketball is different from normal basketball in that there are multiple balls, each one weighing differently and scoring differently based on their weights, and there are no turns, so that each player and team can score at the same time. I found this one a bit boring, largely because it took a long time for characters other than Fey to catch on to how the gods were planning to win but I thought it was pretty obvious once the rules were explained in full. The second game takes place in a labyrinth. The god Poseidon makes a copy of the gang and the goal is for the true players to beat the false ones to the goal and to correctly guess who the true players are. I thought this game was better than the last but, again, I figured out the “trick” before any of the main characters did and it was frustrating that even Fey seemed slow to get it. It also meant that the explanations of the “trick” felt tedious to read. Like, it’s good that Sazane puts in enough clues for the reader to figure it out but it makes the characters feel more stupid than they’re meant to be.

There’s some stuff in between the games about how there’s a team of gods posing as humans to play the games and Fey is given a warning to not win a tenth game. Fey starts to look for his former captain from his old team and we’re reminded that he has the goal of finding the girl that introduced him to games which I had completely forgotten about because I don’t think it’s been mentioned for a while. This volume also has a lot of boob jokes which I found off-putting. Like, we get it, Pearl has big boobs, you don’t need to mention it every chapter. Overall, I just found this volume to be fairly average. The games were pretty fun, especially the second one, but this isn’t this series at it’s best.

I’m getting bored of this series, I think. The games are still fun but the overarching plot doesn’t feel like it’s progressing much and the characters haven’t grown either. In fairness, they didn’t have much flaws to grow from to begin with but it makes reading their journey a lot less rewarding. I guess Pearl and Nell are more confident now but that’s pretty much it. I’ll be reading the next volume as it’s already out in the hopes it manages to recapture my interest.

#Kami wa Game ni Ueteiru #Kei Sazane #Tomoe Toiro #mf bunko j #February 2023 #3 stars #2022 releases

[pearlcages]

That KTB chapter felt random because I think the story didn’t moved forward and it was shorter. And I want to ping out on thing. After years of wearing prosthetic- long walks don’t causes pain. You don’t wear a prosthetic directly, you wear it with knee socket and compression socks and that absorbs any materialistic impact. My gym partner, carries on with a 18 hours rigorous day of training clients on prosthetic and never feels any. The most authentic way of writing prosthetic is to write it as a extended organ, not as something that causes pain. Humbly requesting you to do some research.

like i said, i can’t tell you what to enjoy! it’s okay that you didn’t like it, but i still do. i hope that you enjoy other parts of the story more if you continue reading it (which hopefully you will)

it’s also great that your gym partner doesn’t experience any pain from physical activity. seriously, i’m not being any type of way in saying that— i’m genuinely glad

i have done some research on prostheses and i’m definitely aware that they don’t attach directly to the residual limb. but i’m 100% not an expert, so i’d love to hear more of your thoughts here

this is the information i have/had when i began writing ktb:

from what i understand, it’s relatively common for prosthetic-associated pain to come up when a user isn’t cognizant of their needs or changes in their body— i.e. swelling or shrinking of the residual limb. shrinking occurs as muscle mass changes happen due to amputees using their residual limb in less active ways, and usually stabilizes a few months after surgery; swelling can happen if a prosthetic user irritates the residual limb more than it’s used to, hot or humid weather, dietary choices, lack of consistent exercise or physical therapy. something that came up a lot was using a thicker compression sock to add additional cushion, but doing something last minute might mean that you’re using a thinner, less shock-absorbent sock. on the flip side, using a sock that's too thick can also cause irritation because it won't fit correctly against the gel padding. bear in mind that this is from memory, so it might not be perfect but i'm happy to dig up my original google doc on the subject if this conversation continues. i kept links to my sources on there

we see arizona experiencing residual limb pain almost two years after her amputation, which is probably (but only probably, not certainly) after it would've fully matured and definitely after shrinkage would have occurred. so we know that she, personally, experienced long-term residual limb pain for whatever reason. my theory on this is that while she is aware of what she’s supposed to be doing, she isn’t genuinely cognizant of how her day to day behavior aggravates the residual limb and doesn't take specific measures to minimize the amount of irritation she causes to her it. we see her consistently resisting help/advice from callie and not listening to her prosthesis specialist, and that's definitely a factor for me

from what we know about how arizona thinks about her amputation/prosthetic use, she seems like the kind of person who would ignore the need to get a new prosthetic fitted or wouldn't maintain physical therapy after her initial run. the show never mentions her going to p.t. after s9, even in passing. they also don't mention her having to change her diet at all, so it's likely that she really didn't. but, honestly, i think we can chalk that up to the writers largely forgetting about the amputation by s11

i did consider writing this explanation into ktb, but whenever i tried it started to feel very preachy very quickly, and more than a little performative. it didn't feel right for me to spend the narrative over-explaining something like this to prove i'd done representation Good and Right, like i would've been doing it to make myself look good instead of just telling the story

i don't think something like this can be labelled specifically inaccurate as long-term residual limb pain does occur, but i'm not trying to lean into any harmful stereotypes here. it feels important to arizona's journey emotionally to acknowledge it, since it was such an obviously abandoned plot line in the show, but what do you think? is there a genuine consensus in the amputee community on what's appropriate to portray here? i haven't come across one, but i'm very open to being corrected if you have any resources to share

#asks

[closetgremlin]

Oh my god Spotify doesn’t even save your progress on the album-audiobooks. I’ve listened to other playlists in the past few days and now all my progress with The Raven Boys is gone? Ffs Spotify, get your act together on these audiobooks. And hell if I know where I left off…

#it doesn’t even label the chapters correctly I think?? (at least not with this one) #like the narrator said chapter 2 when Spotify said like chapter 8 or something #confusing #please do better Spotify #|| #miro commentates #miro listens: the raven cycle (audiobook) #cursing

[rindouheart]

— white nights

rindou haitani x y/n l/n

first night | mlist | wc: 1.3k (next chapters will be longer)

synopsis: after another date went wrong, rindou comes over to your house and check how your love life is going. he wished he never asked.

contents: just pure fluff and cuteness, alcohol consumption and a few swear words.

“so, can I call you by your first name, rindou?” asks the girl sitting at the table, in front of him. he hums, “sure”.

ayaka mikoroshi is her name, a porcelain-skinned doll who has got long black hair, deep brown eyes and peach lips. she really looks like a model and fits with all the beauty standards imposed by society. “let’s start our dinner, shall we?” she smiles. 

“what would you like to eat? don’t worry about the price, i’ll pay for you” he says while reading the menu of the fancy restaurant they’re in.

[a couple hours later]

“was it that bad?” you ask your friend, almost laughing at his exhausted state.

“it was boring as hell” rindou mumbles while fixing his purple mullet. since ran is busy, you were the one who had to pick up rindou at the restaurant.

“do you want to come over? instead of spending a night alone at the bonten headquarters” you purpose. he nods in approval.

it has been ages since your bet and still no one has won it. more than a bet, it seems like a real curse to your love lives. none of you has been capable of finding a soulmate and end this bet.

“my date wasn’t the best either” you sigh while driving to your house. “the guy i had dinner with yesterday kept talking about his love for fitness and his physical skills, i was about to pick my stuff and leave”.

rindou, by hearing this, is kind of relieved. at least he’s not the only one to be haunted by bad luck. anyway, he doesn’t have a clue about the fact that you still haven’t found a boyfriend. he was sure you would have won the bet in a week or so.

“the girl i‘ve just had dinner with was only focusing on her instagram home page” you laugh at his words. “she was taking photos of me and the food for her social medias, i can’t believe she used me to look good in front of her followers”.

“rin, you know you’re a handsome man, why are you surprised about her behaviour?” you smile at him and stop the car in you parking lot.

“honestly i’m more surprised about the fact that you haven’t found a boyfriend yet. i thought you would have won this pretty easily” rindou jumps off your vehicle and follows you to the entrance of your home.

“i’m more complicated than you think” you laugh. it has been years since the last decent date you’ve had. every boy you’ve came across after it was only looking for a not-too-serious thing. you realised that, being a big name in finance and economy, is more like a curse than a good thing a bit too late: everyone was looking for your money and your good appearance, not for a long lasting relationship.

“anyway, how’s the new job you’ve applied for?” asks rindou, sitting on the couch and looking for the tv remote.

you go to the kitchen to take a pair of beer bottles, in order to save the evening at least for rindou. “it’s a good workplace, my new colleagues are pretty friendly and talkative. the job is similar to my old one, money, calculating, writing down and save the files on the database” you describe.

you join him on the sofa, putting the beer in front of yourself. “i’ve never heard this brand before” your best friend picks up one and checks the label “is it expensive?”.

“it isn’t, just a couple of euros in italy. one of my coworkers loves that country and always goes there when she has the opportunity. she gave me a pair of these as a welcome gift” 

“ich– ichnusa?” he reads while trying his best to pronounce its name correctly. “never thought italian was so complicated” he adds.

“she told me it’s from sardinia, an island where people both speak italian and another difficult language called sardinian” after that, you take a sip and nod. it’s good, the taste is similar to lemonade, a bit a sour with a sprinkle of alcohol. its percentage is pretty low, so it’s very unlikely to you to get drunk with it.

“do you know if there is any website which sells this? it might become one of my favourites” he asks, looking again at the label.

in the meanwhile, you turn on the tv and scroll through your netflix homepage. as usual, the network has recently added a bunch of teen romance and teen dramas, the ones created with a cookie cutter, as you define.

“any chance of watching a boring romance comedy where you know the couple will get together from the first two minutes?” rindou asks with sarcasm. he only watches those kind of stuff just to comment how dumb and no-sense are the protagonists’ actions and dialogues.

“have you ever thought about how good would be living in a romance movie?” you say, turning your face to him “i mean, some weird shit happens, you find yourself locked in a situation with your childhood friend or enemy and then, boom! you’re a couple! the end” you joke.

“sounds cheesy and cringe, really cringe” he comments, drinking from his bottle. you just sigh and roll your eyes. why is he always like that?

“back to our discussion” rindou speaks again, “are you going to go out for another date these days?” demands, curious.

“hmm, well, i have one planned for saturday night, and i might have found the man who will make me win our bet” you smirk and take another sip of beer.

“are you sure about it? give me information, i want to know everything” he really sounds like one of those high school girls in drama movies, but he has always been your best friend, so why not?

“he is about our age, he has got pink hair and two unique scars–“ in the exact moment you start talking of his scars, rindou stands up.

“is that sanzu? sanzu haruchiyo? that sanzu haruchiyo?” his voice raises more than usual. “why are you acting like this?” you ask, intimidated by his sudden reaction.

“don’t go out with him, just don’t” there’s a point of anger in his voice, which doesn’t get unnoticed. “why?” you try to ask again, standing up too.

“he’s a dangerous guy, he works for bonten with me and ran, cancel the date” he shouts, then, he goes towards the door and, without even saying goodbye, exits your house.

rindou doesn’t know what made him snap in that way. was it because you are going to go out with sanzu and not him? is he jealous of you, his best friend? why you having a date with sanzu makes his blood boil just at the thought? he shakes his head. he doesn’t want to spend time thinking about this useless stuff. he isn’t jealous, he has just warned you about a dangerous man, that’s it. 

you’re still standing in the middle of your living room, too busy in realising what has just happened. your childhood best friend has shouted at you and got furious without giving you a decent reason. “he’s dangerous”, yeah, and you’re a grown adult who can decide on their own. you won’t ditch the date with sanzu, it’s your life and you don’t have to ask rindou’s permission to meet someone. although, he never asked your opinion before one of his dates.

you want to say you’re angry with him for what he has done, but more than rage, you feel something more like delusion and disappointment. you know he cares about you, but you can’t be put under his control, it’s a wrong and obsessive behaviour.

“ran, i literally can’t believe it, she is going on a date with that fucker” remarks rindou, holding the phone with one hand and fiddling with a lilac strand of hair with the other. “you know sanzu is sitting right there and can hear us?” says ran, with his usual provoking voice. “i’m joking, he isn’t here at the moment,” laughs after his brother’s long pause. “you pri-” rindou mumbles, before being interrupted by his older sibling “are you nervous because sanzu asked her out and she might like him? instead of you?” suggests ran.

“fuck you” is the only answer that comes out from rindou’s lips before ending the phone call. he takes a big breath and exhales. he hates admitting it, but his brother is fucking right.

taglist: @xbabybajix @ilykii + ask if you want to be added (comment or inbox with your @)

rindouheart’s original fic — please don’t copy or steal — 123121

#tokrev #tokyo revengers #rindou scenarios #rindou x you #haitani rindou imagines #tr rindou #rindou haitani #ran haitani #sanzu haruchiyo #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers writing #bonten rindou #tokrev rindou #rindou x y/n #rindou x reader #haitani brothers

[eldritchqueerture]

Chapter 6: Clouded Mind and a Heavy Heart

Chapter Summary: After Martin’s sudden disappearance and an equally sudden reappearance, Jon realizes Martin was supposed to have memories from the other timeline as well. Not ready to lose hope, he explains the situation to his assistants with Gerry’s help, and together they plan their next steps.

CW: self deprecation, canon-typical Lonely content, unreality, blood, injury, swearing, allusions to gaslighting

Author's Notes: I may or may not be in pain writing this :')

Work Summary: Jon awakens with a tidal wave of memories that don’t make any sense. In an attempt to go on with his life, he searches for the cause of the turmoil in his mind. He knows, though, that something inside him is waking up.

Likes are greatly appreciated, but please consider reblogging so other people may see it! Thank you 💜

As soon as Jon sits behind his desk, with the door to the office closed, he hides his face in his hands and lets the tears flow freely. He doesn’t even try to pinpoint a specific cause; the turmoil in his chest cannot possibly be contained in simple words. Some of the emotions stem from uncategorized things Jon has only vaguely labelled. Like Martin.

The persistent feeling of loss Jon had been associating with Martin all this time has finally connected to something – somehow, for some reason Martin was supposed to be here with him. The Martin from the other timeline, that has been through all of this before. They were supposed to be together, one way or another. That’s what Jon said; what he promised.

But Martin clearly doesn’t remember. Jon has looked into his eyes, searching for understanding, and found only a detached sort of worry, the way one might be concerned about the health of one’s boss. Nothing in the way of understanding, of recognition.

Tim’s words sound in his mind again: Martin had turned into fog. Did Jon bring this thing onto an unsuspecting, innocent Martin, if he alone ended up here?

It all comes back to him, doesn’t it? No matter what his decisions are, ultimately people get hurt. Jon stifles a sob and wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt, but the tears just keep coming. How is he supposed to stop the apparently fated end of the world if he doesn’t know what exactly should be changed to avoid it? So far, he’s only managed to make matters worse.

There’s a knock at the door and it swings open.

“Hey, boss, I thought I—” Tim stops, seeing Jon sniffling and frantically wiping away at his face. “Oh.”

“Yes, uh…” Jon blinks, puts on his glasses, and clears his throat. “Yes, Tim? What do you need?”

Tim’s forehead ripples and he searches Jon’s face for a moment, before quietly closing the door behind him.

“Jon, I…” He sighs, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry.”

Jon blinks, debating whether he heard him correctly.

“You’re… What?”

“I’m sorry.” Tim looks up at him. “I overreacted. I…” He licks his lips. “I got scared. I mean, suddenly, Sasha was hurt, and you were being shifty, so it was easier to place the blame on you. But I don’t think I should have.”

Jon swallows through the tightness in his throat, some stray tears falling onto his cheeks.

“I still have no fucking clue what’s going on,” Tim laughs humourlessly. “And a part of me still doesn’t really believe what’s happening but…” He walks up to Jon’s desk and taps the tips of his fingers on it. “You’re my friend, Jon. I don’t want to lose you.”

Jon barely suppresses a whimper.

“I’m so sorry, Tim,” he whispers through the tears.

“Shut up, I’m apologising to you,” Tim says, exasperated, and Jon sees him blinking his own tears away. “It… is still you, right?”

“Yes,” Jon’s voice cracks. “Yes, it is.”

“Fuck. Come here.” Tim rounds the desk and scoops Jon up into his arms as soon as Jon stands up. The hug is tight, and Jon can’t hold back a sob. He cries into Tim’s shoulder, with his hands holding his back as if Jon was about to shatter into pieces.

Guilt pools at the bottom of Jon’s stomach; Tim doesn’t know what Jon’s done. He doesn’t know that the Archives won’t let them leave, that it’s only going to get worse and more dangerous, and that, after all, it is Jon’s fault for bringing him here. Jon doesn’t deserve the comfort Tim is freely giving him, but he’s not strong enough to let go.

“I’m gonna go get some food, okay?” Tim says in a soft voice when Jon runs out of tears. “You go take that nap.”

“Tim…” Jon lets go of him, looking back at his desk. He hasn’t even prepared any statements.

“Come on. If you go now, I’ll go the extra mile and get you some of those apple scones we had on Sasha’s birthday last year.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I remember how expensive they were,” Jon shakes his head.

“Maybe we can get Elias to pay, since it’s apparently all because this place is spooky,” Tim suggests with a shadow of a smirk, and Jon scoffs with exasperation. “Actually, uh…” Tim frowns. “Elias does know about… you know. The Eye, or whatever you called it, right?”

Jon grimaces.

“Yes, he’s very much aware of it.” He says with disgust. “He willingly serves it.”

For two hundred years now. Because he is the founder of the Institute. Jon holds those revelations back, deciding he will tell all of them tomorrow anyway.

“Of course he does,” Tim rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Okay, come on. Bedtime.”

Jon sighs heavily.

“Fine. But I’m paying you back for those scones.”

“Yeah, sure.” Tim pats him on the back, and they exit the office. “Martin, make sure he gets to bed or there’ll be no fancy scones for him.”

Jon looks to the ceiling, praying for patience.

“I’m not a child, Tim,” he says, holding back a slight smile. Tim grabs his coat and swiftly puts it on.

“You’re still in your twenties, it’s basically the same thing.” He grins at him and turns around. “Sleep tight!”

Jon rolls his eyes, and his gaze stops at Martin. He’s sitting at his desk, looking slightly confused, and their eyes meet when the doors to the Archives close behind Tim. Jon’s heart cracks a little bit. Does he really not remember anything? Is there really no traces left of… of his Martin?

“You’re in your twenties?” Martin asks with incredulity, and Jon blinks before the meaning registers in his brain. Right.

“Uh.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Not for long. I... I think we’re the same age, actually.”

Martin stiffens.

“W-Well, I-I’m well past thirty, though,” he laughs. Jon frowns.

“No, you’re not. You’re twenty-nine…” He trails off as a realisation hits him. Martin hasn’t told him that he lied about his resume yet. “W-Wait—”

“So, you know,” Martin says with a look of horror on his face. “Please, don’t fire me, I had to lie to support my mum, we—”

“Martin. Martin.” Jon raises his hands and takes a step towards him. “I’m not going to fire you. I don’t even think I can, and—and I really don’t mind.”

Martin fidgets with his fingers.

“H-How did you know then?”

Jon grimaces.

“Let’s just say it’s one of those things I’ll explain tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Martin nods. Jon notices his eyes are still grey, the usual green just a faded memory. He frowns.

“Martin…” he starts carefully. “Have you noticed any… fog? Recently?”

Martin frowns.

“I don’t really get out much these days,” he says.

“Yeah, no, I know. I mean, indoors. A-A malicious sort of fog?”

Martin blinks, trying to follow Jon’s thought process.

“A malicious fog,” he repeats. Jon’s hopes were never very high, but disappointment trickles into him like acid.

“Nevermind,” he says quietly, but Martin shifts towards him.

“Do you mean what Tim and Sasha were saying? About me… disappearing?”

Jon looks into his eyes and feels the sting of tears.

“That too. And other… like, your eyes,” he mumbles. “They’re grey.”

Martin blinks, seemingly too stunned for words for a second. Jon smiles through the pain.

“So you don’t… You don’t remember anything, do you?”

Martin just shakes his head slowly. Jon swallows through the tears and nods.

“Jon, I—” Martin starts but Jon shakes his head rapidly.

“Don’t worry about it, Martin.” He tries for a smile, but he only manages to twist his lips in a lopsided grimace. “It’s—It’s okay. I’ll, uh… I’ll go take that nap, or Tim will eat all the scones himself.”

He lets out a chuckle that comes out too similar to a sob and turns around to flee into the document storage. His head throbs with pain from all the crying, and he lays down again in the cot that smells of Martin. The pain grips his chest like a vice, constricting his lungs for a moment. He puts his glasses away and buries his face in the pillow, hoping to dream of Scotland.

Martin stares at the closed door to the document storage for a while, trying to catch his thoughts. They seem to consistently evade him; just as he thinks he might have a grip on one, it evaporates in his hand like… Like…

Jon pays attention to his eye colour. This comes as an utter surprise to him; he doesn’t really expect anyone to notice his eyes, unremarkably pale green as they are, least of all Jonathan Sims. But apparently, he pays it enough mind to notice a change. Should it matter that they changed? Martin doesn’t know and finds himself not caring much about it.

“So you don’t… You don’t remember anything, do you?”

The sadness in Jon’s voice broke Martin’s heart. He wishes he could remember what Jon wants him to remember, he wishes he could be what Jon wants, but his mind is empty.

Somehow, it doesn’t seem weird to him that Jon expects him to remember something; he just knows he doesn’t. Maybe he is already aware of the gaping hole in his mind; maybe he subconsciously knows it’s there, but he doesn’t yet know what it means.

“Hello, Martin.” Elias’ voice startles him out of his reverie, and he jumps, noticing the man standing in the walkway between the shelves. His hands are joined behind his back and his posture is as straight as ever. Martin stiffens with fear that he somehow heard about the lie on Martin’s resume.

“H-Hi, Elias,” he says, turning to his laptop screen. If he looks engrossed in work, maybe Elias won’t bother him much, although Martin fears it’s too late for this sort of precautions.

“I’m glad to see that the alarm was a false one.” Elias smiles at him politely and begins walking towards the desks. Martin wrings out his fingers.

“Yes, I-I don’t really understand what happened. I was here the whole time.”

Elias’ eyes wander around the room.

“Yes, I thought as much. Is Jon in his office?” He asks offhandedly, walking up to Sasha’s desk, and Martin shakes his head.

“Uh, h-he’s, well… Him and Sasha were up all night o-on an investigation, so he’s just resting for a bit.” He feels a surge of protectiveness in his chest. Whatever Elias wants, it can wait; he won’t be waking Jon up on Martin’s watch.

“That’s probably for the best,” Elias sighs, as if he cares. He leans back against Sasha’s desk to look at Martin, who barely suppresses a grimace at the intensity of his gaze. Elias has picked up a tape from the desk and turns it around in his hands. “He’s not very good at taking care of himself, is he?”

“N-Not really, no,” Martin laughs nervously, wondering what is the point of all this. “Look, Elias, I-I actually have some work to do that Jon might kill me if I don’t finish before he wakes so—”

“Of course.” Elias gives him a smile that makes something uncomfortable turn in Martin’s stomach. He pockets the tape and joins his hands again behind his back. “I won’t bother you. Have a nice day, Martin.”

“Y-You too,” Martin forces out and watches Elias leave. What the hell was that about? Martin shakes his head, letting the thoughts drift away.

He’s drawn to check on Jon. He opens the door to the document storage carefully and sees Jon bundled up in the blankets.

He allows himself a quiet moment of contemplation on his feelings for Jon, amidst the chaos that their jobs have turned out to be, and he wonders how Jon feels about him. He replays the worry in his brown eyes, the careful touch, ensuring he’s there, safe, and whole… He might be adding meaning to otherwise ordinary actions, of course, but he can permit himself to hope, for when that hope sparks inside him, the fog withdraws somewhat.

Jon frowns in his sleep, and his eyelids flutter. Martin notices his breathing is slightly irregular. He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, hoping the touch might soothe Jon just a little bit without waking him. It doesn’t seem to work.

Martin withdraws his hand. What is he thinking? What if Jon wakes up, what if someone sees him? This is creepy enough as it is, Martin berates himself and turns to the door. With a last look back, he sees Jon nuzzle into the pillow with a quiet groan.

—

Jon raises his bleeding hand one last time, gritting his teeth hard in determination. He tries to distance his mind from the pain of the wounds littering his palm, willing himself to gather enough strength for this final act. He takes a breath through his nose and, on the exhale, brings his hand forward, slamming into the last mirror with a cry of pain. The glass shatters, silver pieces falling to the floor, and he sobs, closing his eyes shut and leaning his palm against the wall. This should be the end of it, he thinks. This must be the end of this cursed maze that is short of making him go insane. This is the last mirror, it must be the right one. He takes a shaky breath, and unclenches his fist, letting stray shards of glass fall and stain the yellow carpet with red.

Upon turning around, his stomach sinks, and he can’t stop a whine from escaping his lips. The corridor hasn’t changed, littered with empty frames, and shattered glass, glistening in the golden light. The air is uncomfortably warm, and Jon finds it hard to breathe. His knees buckle under him, and he falls to the floor in defeat, lips contorting in despair. He’s trapped. He doesn’t know how long he’s been in this corridor fruitlessly looking for a way out, but it feels like years.

“Jon?”

His palm stings and both of his hands shake as all energy escapes him. He’s trapped. This is the end, except not the one he wished for; he’s going to die here. He’s going to die here, wherever here actually is, if it even exists at all. It’s over, and no one will know what happened to him; he will, after everything, be another goddamn mystery to be archived on those dusty, forgotten shelves—

“Jon!”

A familiar voice breaks through his monologuing thoughts and he blinks himself to awareness. The grey linoleum floor of the Institute is stained with his blood, and, in the distance, a silhouette is calling to him, approaching fast with an air of concern. He blinks again through the haze as Martin sinks beside him, gripping his shoulders.

“Jon, can you hear me?”

“Martin,” Jon breathes out, and there is no saying which one of them pulls the other into a hug first. They grip each other tight, as if they were each other’s only anchor to life. Jon laughs through the tears. “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Martin whispers into his ear, and Jon presses his forehead to his neck, tears spilling out onto his cheeks. “I’m here.”

He feels Martin’s fingers brushing through his hair and he pulls away enough for Martin to join their lips together. The kiss is shaky and messy, as more tears fall from Jon’s eyes, and he lets out a helpless whine. He presses their foreheads together when their lips part, still gripping fistfuls of Martin’s sweater.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Jon whispers, his voice trembling. “I thought…”

Martin shushes him softly, brushing Jon’s hair out of his face.

“I’ve got you now,” he says quietly. Jon smiles and nods slightly, basking in the warmth of the closeness and the sound of Martin’s breath. Something tightens in his stomach, however, ever so slightly at first. A growing unease; a creeping realization of something being fundamentally wrong.

“Martin,” he says, his throat tightening with anxiety. He opens his eyes and finally gets a proper look at Martin’s face – his features are hard and tense, holding something back, and he lacks his glasses. “Martin…?”

“I’m sorry.” Martin’s eyes stare at Jon unblinkingly, glistening with some kind of an emotion, as he caresses his cheek. Jon only manages to open his mouth before Martin continues. “You were right, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Jon asks, fear rendering his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“You did lose him,” Martin says, still caressing Jon’s cheek. “Martin. You lost him a long time ago. And you’ll never get him back.”

Jon feels hot pain in his chest, a sharp stab, and sees blood pool on his shirt. His heart is galloping and he’s trembling, staring at Martin with wide eyes.

“What… What are you talking about?”

“You lost all of them, Jon.” Martin’s hand stops at his neck. “You kept losing them. Never able to protect anyone, keep anyone from harm long enough to survive and still tolerate your presence.”

Jon lets out a choked off sound as he feels bile rise in his throat.

“And you had nothing left by the end of it. You’ve destroyed everything you ever loved all by yourself.”

Martin’s right hand produces a knife and Jon can only look as he aligns it with the spot where Jon’s heart slams against his ribcage, as if trying to break out.

“Martin…” He whispers, choking on the blood pooling in his mouth. He feels it trickle from the corner of his mouth and the hand on Jon’s neck rises to wipe it away, no doubt smearing it all over his skin.

“Martin isn’t here,” Martin says, and he pushes the knife between Jon’s ribs in one swift motion. Jon gasps, still gripping the sweater in his fists, and coughs onto Martin’s shoulder, as he pulls him closer. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

The world spins as he heaves for breath, clinging to Martin who isn’t Martin at all. He tries to fight, tries to argue, but consciousness slips from him faster than he would have expected. Instead of falling into the darkness, however, he blinks and finds green eyes above him, staring emotionlessly. He gasps and registers something touching his shoulder. The thin black limbs belonging to the monster grip his arms, shaking him awake. He flinches and crawls away in panic, letting out a punched out cry. The Archivist retracts its touch and moves a step away.

Silence falls over the Institute’s corridor in which, to Jon’s slight surprise, they still are. The Archivist doesn’t say anything, quietly watching Jon trying to reassert control over his breath.

Jon swallows as he regains his bearings, trying to come up with any words to say.

“I…” He starts and falters. “Martin is…” He doesn’t finish this sentence either, his voice cut off by the ache in his chest. He blinks, chasing the tears away.

“I told you to find him.” The Archivist speaks in Jon’s head. “Yet you didn’t.”

“I don’t know what you mean!” Jon hisses with exasperation, grimacing in pain. “He’s there, safe, and whole! What more do you want?”

“No, he isn’t.” The Archivist’s stare is somehow more piercing, colder. “He’s not safe. He needs to remember. He has to. If he doesn’t…”

It doesn’t finish, and Jon searches its form for any sign that could help him read the meaning of its words.

“If he doesn’t?” He prompts and the Archivist blinks once.

“He must.”

Jon inhales as he suddenly places the strange tone he hears in its voice.

“You’re scared,” he says quietly. “You’re scared he won’t remember what you want him to.”

The Archivist stays motionless and silent for a moment.

“Yes.” It finally says and Jon exhales.

“It’s better for him not to remember,” he says. “He shouldn’t have to go through all this. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, actually, I think I do understand.” Jon’s voice gains strength and he pushes himself off the floor. “You keep giving me these vague ominous warnings, telling me you only want to help me, but you’re not explaining a damn thing! You could have told me not to let Martin investigate Vittery’s statement. You could have told me Sasha would meet Michael, but you didn’t. All you ever do is create more chaos!” Jon balls his hands up into fists. “I can’t help but think you want us to go through these horrors.”

“You already brought enough attention to yourself,” it says. “Jonah Magnus watches your every move. If you’re not careful you’ll make this all worse.”

“I’m just trying to protect my assistants!” Jon throws his hands up in the air. “And now Martin is disappearing, and I keep remembering things that don’t make sense!”

“Magnus is going to use it against you. You can’t let him.”

“How do I stop him then? What can I actually do so you’re satisfied?” Jon grits his teeth in anger.

Despite the fact that the Archivist has no lips, he can’t help but feel it smirk bitterly.

“Free me.”

Jon presses his lips together.

“Just so you can manipulate everyone else with your baseless threats? I don’t think so.”

The Archivist sighs.

“An eldritch being of knowledge, and I still have no clue how to make you believe I’m not trying to hurt you. Or the people we care about.”

“If you’re actually trying to help,” Jon starts, crossing his arms on his chest. “Then tell me what’s going to happen next. Clearly and without any riddles, so we can actually prepare and stop it.”

It observes him for a moment.

“Very well. According to the events that have already transpired in the other timeline, Melanie King should be paying the Institute a visit with a statement of her own. The worms are gathering in the tunnels beneath the Institute as we speak as well. I cannot see clearly, bound as I am and it being a natural blind spot, but I think they’re amassing faster than they did before.”

“Wait, Melanie King?” Jon frowns with incredulity. “From Ghost Hunt UK?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Ah…” Jon hesitates. “Am I going to go through the same thing as with Naomi Herne?”

“Only if you choose to refuse the statement.”

Jon wets his lips.

“And… Should I?”

All of the Archivist’s eyes focus on Jon at once.

“The written statements are scraps of stale bread compared to a statement given live. The fear of a recollection happening right before our eyes is much more pronounced, much more satisfying. Much more powerful. You’ve denied the Eye once. I cannot anticipate its reaction if you do so again.”

“So, you want me to take the statement,” Jon says dryly.

“If that is your understanding.”

Jon grimaces.

“What?”

“I am a part of you just as you are a part of me. What I want is, ultimately, what you want as well.”

“But I don’t want to take that statement.” Jon shakes his head.

“Do you not? Are you not curious about the rush of power it would give you? You imagine the thrill of getting answers to your compelled questions, you multiply it tenfold in your mind to fit the feeling in your memory. You’re weak. You’re hungry. You need it.”

“You need it.” Jon repeats. “You said you could die from hunger.”

“I also said that your death is better than your ignorance.”

“So, you plan to take me with you if that would be the case?” Jon raises his eyebrows barely standing his ground under the weight of the green stare.

“Yes.”

Jon nods carefully and swallows.

“Right. Death or be a monster.” He grimaces. “I can’t make that choice.”

“Not making a choice is a choice in itself.” The Archivist informs and Jon risks a glare at it. It doesn’t react.

“What happens to the person whose statement I take?” He asks. “Does it… hurt them?”

“Not physically. They come back to their fears in dreams, however. You’re there with them, watching. They scream and beg you to help them, but you cannot move. You stand there and watch as they succumb to their horrors night after night.”

Jon takes a shaky breath and hugs himself with his arms.

“Is that what’s happening to me?” He asks quietly. “Living through my nightmares in dreams, with you watching?”

“I wouldn’t put it past the irony of the universe.” The Archivist shrugs. “Only because you refuse to accept your fate and free me, of course.”

“And what, exchange my own nightmares for those of the people you’ve used?” Jon asks and the Archivist blinks twice. Its eyes fall to the floor and for a moment Jon thinks it looks hurt.

“Those people aren’t here.” There’s no trace of the hurt in its voice, and Jon can tell himself he only imagined it. “There’s no reason you would meet them in your dreams in this universe.”

“It doesn’t erase what you’ve done to them,” Jon says quietly.

“No. I suppose it does not.”

Jon opens his mouth, then closes it. He takes a breath and steels himself.

“What about Naomi Herne?” Jon asks and looks into the Archivist’s eyes. “Why did you stop me taking her statement? It couldn’t have been my decision.”

The Archivist blinks.

“Our time is running out.” It turns away, its two original eyes staring off down the corridor. “Find Martin.”

“Wait—” Jon reaches out as his vision swims. The Archivist’s voice strains and gains a desperate edge to it when it speaks its last word into Jon’s mind.

“Please.”

—

Sasha decides to have them all over for brunch at her place, deeming it the safest. She does not complain when Jon texts her to cover any eyes depicted on decorations and such, although she has her reservations when he asks for a permission to bring a guest. Apparently they are supposed to help him explain the situation, and Sasha settles on trusting Jon. She remembers the difficulty with which he broached the topic of the Eye the day before, and if whoever this person is can share the burden of explaining, then Jon deserves the support.

Tim and Martin arrive first. They settle in with mugs of coffee and tea respectively, with an air of nervous anticipation, broken by Tim’s attempts at humour. They are all anxious, though, they know it, and when the doorbell finally rings, they all jump to their feet. Sasha opens the door to reveal Jon with his ever-present frown lines and a taller individual with a bad dye job and a leather coat.

“Hey, Jon.” She gives him a tight smile and Jon nods. “Come on in.”

Tim appears in the view as soon as Sasha closes the door behind the two newcomers.

“Hiya, boss!” He waves to Jon and his eyes stop at Gerry with surprise. “And who’s this handsome fella?”

“Tim…” Jon groans while Gerry lets out a chuckle. “This is Gerry Delano, G-Gerard Keay,” he quickly adds for assistants’ benefit and sees their eyes go wide.

“Tim Stoker, so pleased to meet you.” Tim flashes Gerry a charming smile and glances at Jon with a playful glint in his eye. “Glad to see Jon managed to find you, he would not shut up about trying to contact you when you showed up in our statements.”

Jon’s cheeks grow hot as Sasha ushers them to the living room.

“I’m rather good at escaping notice when I want to.” Gerry shrugs, glancing at Jon with amusement.

“Alright,” Jon clears his throat. “This is Sasha and Martin. That’s pleasantries out of the way.”

“Make yourselves comfortable. Gerry, you drink coffee?” Tim apparently disagrees and points them to the couch.

“Black with a drop of sugar, if you would.”

“Right up.” Tim grins as they take their seats and busies himself in the adjacent kitchen. Martin sits down in an armchair to the left and Sasha hovers next to the kitchen island, playing with her pen.

“And why is he here?” Martin asks somewhat tersely.

“I, uh…” Jon searches the ground for words. “Gerry knows more about what’s going on. He’s agreed to help me explain it all.”

“How do you already know Jon’s… situation?” Sasha asks, clicking the pen on and adjusting her notepad.

“We shared a cigarette, then got to talking.” Gerry chuckles. “He really spiked my interest when he said I should be dead.”

“I didn’t say you should be dead, just that I thought you were. There’s a big difference,” Jon huffs.

“Relax, I’m joking around.” Gerry bumps their shoulders together and Jon is too stunned by the unexpected physical contact for a second to reply.

“You explained what’s going on to him before you talked to us?” Martin asks with a level of incredulity Jon didn’t exactly expect of him. He frowns.

“Well, it was… It was easier, since he already knows things and could put it all in context.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Martin, let’s just hear him out, okay?” Sasha puts a hand on Martin’s shoulder briefly and pulls up a pouf for herself.

“Yeah, okay.” Martin sighs.

Is he jealous? Jon looks at Martin’s face, looking back at him with an inscrutable expression and his chest tightens with pain. He said himself that he doesn’t remember, he doesn’t have a reason to be jealous. Jon must be reading into it. He tries to stamp that little spark of hope out, but it just won’t die. He knows it will only cause him more heartbreak. Although, if the fog somehow clouds Martin’s mind enough to obscure memories… Maybe if he explains it, maybe if he just says it, it will come back to him?

Tim carries two steaming mugs from the kitchen and places them in front of Jon and Gerry, then settles on the arm of the armchair. Jon frowns at his mug filled with a milky liquid.

“You know how I take my tea?”

Tim snorts.

“I watched Martin do it enough times, it’s really not that hard.”

Martin elbows him in the thigh, going red in the face. How early did Martin say he had feelings for Jon? Maybe it wouldn’t be too far-fetched if he was just jealous, without any paranormal input. Jon swallows the ache and focuses on the purpose of their meeting.

Gerry starts by explaining the basics which align with Jon’s memories and give them clearer shapes. Tim’s smile vaporises as soon as Gerry mentions Smirke, and Martin is looking away while listening. Jon supplies the story with some details here and there.

“Okay, wait,” Sasha raises her hand and writes furiously fast on the piece of paper before her. “Let me summarize this before I lose my mind.”

“I think I already lost mine,” Tim mumbles, staring into the floor.

“So… There are these big Power entities that feed on our fears, and they create supernatural monsters sometimes. The Institute is a Temple to the fear of being watched, which is called The Eye or The Beholding, and Elias… Elias is serving it.”

“Let it be known I called it before it was cool,” Tim cuts in.

“Jane Prentiss got consumed by the power of The Hive and she’s planning to attack the Institute in the near future?” Her voice rises at that, but she doesn’t stop. “Michael is another one of these powers, the one that makes you doubt your sanity, and it wants to help us for some reason, since he took that worm out of me.” She shivers involuntarily. “He did say that the Hive was rash which, I guess, makes sense in the context. There are different powers too, like the Dark or Falling, or—or being buried, and they can attempt something like rituals to cause… an apocalypse?”

“Yes, except they don’t feed on fear,” Gerry emphasizes. “They are our fear. That’s why Smirke’s theory is fundamentally useless – they cannot be divided into neat categories. They’re not a type of creature that our minds can conceive of. Separating them into fourteen entities makes it easier to talk about, but you have to understand that it’s never going to be that simple in practice.”

“Jonah Magnus knows this,” Jon says quietly, tracing the rim of his mug. “He wants to attempt a ritual that will actually work. That won’t fall apart like all the others did.”

Gerry turns to him with alarm.

“What do you mean?”

“Gertrude found it out before she died,” Jon whispers, staring into a spot on the coffee table intently. He isn’t aware of it, but the veins in his eyes faintly light up with green. “All the rituals so far have attempted to bring a few entities at most, but they cannot be separated. They are interwoven in essence, a Power of Fear, coursing through our veins every day, infiltrating every thought without us noticing—”

“Jon.” He meets Sasha’s wide gaze and sucks in a breath.

“Jonah Magnus knows a way to bring them all here. To bring this world to ruin and remake it in the image of Fear itself.”

“Jon.” Sasha’s voice grows more insistent, and he blinks, the glow fading away. “Jonah Magnus is dead.”

“No, he isn’t.” Jon’s gaze stops at Martin, who still looks anywhere but at them. “Jonah Magnus founded the Institute to serve the Eye, to gain power from observing the fear other people felt. He was… He was afraid of dying more than of anything else, so the Eye provided him with a way around it.”

Martin blinks and frowns, shifting as if uncomfortable.

“H-How is that even possible?” Tim whispers.

“He plucks out the eyes of the person he chooses as his next host,” Jon says flatly. “Then, he replaces them with his own. He’s been doing this for two hundred years now.”

Tim exhales.

“So… So, what you’re saying is…”

“Elias.” Jon nods and meets Tim’s horrified gaze. “The real Elias Bouchard died a long time ago. Jonah Magnus has always been the Head of the Magnus Institute.”

“Fuck me.” Tim shakes his head. Sasha stares at her notes in silence for a moment. Jon glances at Gerry, who plays with his lip ring in thought.

“You still haven’t told us how you know all of this.” She looks up at him. “How… How you got your powers.”

Jon swallows.

“Something… happened to me, the night before my first day as the Head Archivist.” He glances at Martin again, pleading in his mind. “I woke up with—with this ocean of new memories. I honestly thought I was losing my mind, I… I thought that for a while. It’s—it’s why I didn’t say anything. It all… shifted in my mind, coming in and out like a tide. And I saw… I saw myself in my dreams.” Jon looks at the floor, forehead rippling in pain. “I saw myself transformed into a monster made of green eyes, trapped in my own mind, asking me for help. I didn’t believe it at first… I’m still coming to terms with it, but I’m sure now. I have memories, my own memories, of the world ending, and it being my fault. Jonah’s plan involved using me to cause the Apocalypse and he had won.” Jon’s voice cracks ever so slightly.

“The tape,” Tim breathes out. “You... That’s what you talked about. The end of the—”

“There was no tape!” Martin says loudly, making Jon jump in his place and everyone else look at him, startled. “There wasn’t a tape.”

“Martin...” Sasha starts but Martin shakes his head vehemently. He stands up and starts pacing around the living room.

“There wasn’t a tape. We were in the breakroom, then you went upstairs and there wasn’t. A tape. There couldn’t have been.”

Jon walks towards Martin, looking into his eyes. His retinas have become near translucent, his stare seemingly far away. Jon reaches for his hand, but Martin flinches away and steps back.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jon says carefully, unable to hide the fear in his voice.

“No, it’s not! Do you think it’s a joke? Are you guys pulling something on me, because it’s not fucking funny, okay?”

Jon sees Martin’s hands shake. His breath comes in quick and creates little puffs of mist that disperse as soon as they touch the air around him.

“There was no tape,” he whispers shakily.

“Martin, look at me.” Jon raises his hands placatingly, trying to meet Martin’s gaze. “Just breathe okay?”

“You—You keep talking about things that don’t make any sense and you expect me to remember stuff that never happened and—and I don’t know, I just don’t know, are you trying to trick me and make fun of me, or did I genuinely forget…” Martin’s voice breaks and tears gather in his eyes. “Maybe I forgot, just like everything else, always forget the most important things…” His gaze slides over Jon’s eyes, wandering around the room, unseeing. The air grows colder, and the windows fog up. Jon takes a step closer reaching carefully for Martin’s forearms.

“Martin, look at me, please,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to remember anything, just—just breathe and stay with me, alright? Look at me, Martin. Martin.”

Martin’s eyes finally meet Jon’s, as he grips Martin’s arms.

“Do you know where you are, Martin?” Jon asks, repeating his name for good measure, and Martin opens his mouth.

“I, uh…” His gaze searches Jon’s face to rest, again, on his eyes. He shakes his head.

“We’re in Sasha’s flat,” Jon says in that same quiet tone. “You’re standing in Sasha’s living room, and I’m holding your arms. Can you feel it?”

Martin wets his lips and looks down at Jon’s hands gripping his forearms. He blinks and nods.

“Are you back here?” Jon squeezes his arms lightly, and Martin nods again, more presently.

“Yeah. Yeah, I…” He looks around to see fear reflected on Sasha and Tim’s face. His lips tremble. “I’m sorry.”

“No need,” Jon assures him, something tightening painfully around his heart. Martin looks back at him and a few tears fall from his eyes. “You’re okay, now.”

Martin makes a stifled move to reach for Jon’s shoulders, but he doesn’t follow through. Jon recognizes his intent, however, and pulls him into a hug either way. Martin relaxes against his body, exhaling slowly, as Jon rubs his back soothingly.

“What…” Tim breathes out. “What just happened?”

Martin sniffles once and pulls away. Jon leads him to the armchair, and he slumps, Tim embracing him quickly with his silent permission.

“I, uh…” Jon sits down at the couch, meeting Gerry’s concerned gaze for a moment. “I’m not yet sure what’s happening to you, Martin. I can’t see—”

“It’s the Lonely,” Gerry interjects and frowns at Martin. “His mark is weird though.”

“Weird how?” Jon asks, already knowing the answer.

“It’s faded but persistent, hanging over him like a raincloud. Kinda like some of yours.”

Jon runs a hand through his hair.

“It’s my fault,” he breathes out and shakes his head. “Martin was with me during the apocalypse, he… We were...” We were supposed to be together. Jon swallows the pain, pushing it down as far as he can. “It’s because I’m here.”

“Well, you don’t know that for sure.” Gerry tuts, pursing his lips in thought.

“How…” Sasha glances at Martin, who has seemingly collected himself and looks at her presently. “How did you get here, by the way? Like… How does one even travel to different realities?”

Jon chuckles humourlessly.

“That’s the really hazy part. I-I don’t remember what happened all the way to the end. We wanted to confront Jonah Magnus, but…” He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t have all of the pieces yet.”

“We should probably focus on, what was it, the Hive,” Tim says. “You said it wants to attack the Institute.”

“Uh, yes.” Jon runs his hand through his hair again. “The worms are preparing in the tunnels below the Institute, but it will take some time before—”

“In the what?” Tim interrupts, blinking at him. “Did you say tunnels—”

“Below the Institute, yes.” Jon nods, anxiety brewing a storm in his gut. “I’d advise against seeking them out though, until we deal with the Hive. Even now they’re probably crawling with worms.”

Martin shivers.

“Do you—Do you know when it plans to attack?” Tim asks, his eyes wide. Jon shakes his head.

“I recall it was summer last time… But I feel that something’s changed. They’re getting impatient.”

“How do you know?”

“Ah… A part of me closer to the Eye can feel it.” Jon cringes. “Lots of restlessness.”

“Everyone closer to the Fears has been getting agitated these past couple of months,” Gerry supplies with a frown. “I didn’t think it could be connected to you but…” He trails off.

“God.” Jon hides his face in his hands. “I really screwed this up right off the bat, didn’t I?”

“Hey, now, we don’t know it’s a bad thing.” Gerry carefully places a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “We’ll deal with it.”

“It can’t be a good thing.” Jon pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes. “And it means Magnus must know something by now.”

“Do you know what he’s planning?” Gerry asks. Jon adjusts his glasses and laughs mirthlessly.

“We need to kill him,” he says with more depth. “This is the only way to stop the apocalypse in our time—”

“Woah, woah, back it up a bit.” Tim raises his hands. “How exactly does he plan to use you? What would it even take to end the world?”

Jon inhales as a memory flashes through his eyes, just a quick thing of darkness, a storm outside, and a piece of paper in his hands. Nothing follows it up.

“I don’t know.” Jon admits. “I can’t remember how it worked exactly. I read an incantation, I think. I… I couldn’t stop,” he lets out a shaky laugh.

“Does it have to be you?” Sasha asks. “Or can he use someone else?”

“If he could use just anyone, he’d have done it ages ago,” Gerry points out and looks at Jon. “Perhaps he needs someone who has experienced fear in all its forms for the ritual to be successful.”

Jon nods tensely.

“It took him four years with me,” he says quietly and lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “I was basically throwing myself at them all, not knowing the weight of my decisions. All of them leading to one place since the very beginning.”

“Okay, so what if we just quit?” Tim raises his eyebrows. “Just, fuck off to a different job.”

“We can’t,” Jon sighs. “The way the Archives work, the contract binds you until you die. You’d be unable to hand in your resignation even if you tried.”

Tim inhales, processing that information.

“The only way to effectively quit while staying alive would be to blind yourself.” Jon shoots a glance at Martin. He’s looking at them, listening, but his face doesn’t betray his emotions.

“So… We need to kill Elias?” Sasha repeats with a level of incredulity.

“There’s…” Jon takes a breath, rubbing at his eyes. “There’s another problem with that. Every Institute employee is tied to him through the Eye’s power. He’s… How he phrased it, the beating heart of the Institute. If he dies, it will hurt everyone contracted at the Institute, although I don’t know to what degree. And, with the Archives being more strongly tied to the Eye, I have no idea how it would affect you and if…” He bites his lip, avoiding his assistants’ faces. “If you’d be able to survive at all.”

Tim exhales through his teeth and looks at Sasha, but her expression is unreadable.

“You’re joking,” he says adamantly. Jon grimaces.

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

Tim looks at Sasha and bites his lip, staring off in thoughts.

“So what—what are our options here?” Sasha asks, straightening her back. Jon wets his lips, trying to come up with a course of action but it slips from his mind. He’s so exhausted.

“Since both quitting and killing Magnus is currently off the table,” Gerry speaks up. “It seems the most reasonable to start preparing for the Hive’s attack. And, Jon…” Worry plays clear in his dark eyes. “You need to be careful. It might be a reach but, marked as you are, you might be able to pull the Fears through with the right push at this point.”

Jon blinks at him.

“Fuck.” He pushes his glasses onto his forehead and hides his face in his hands.

“I don’t know for sure but still, Magnus can’t know about this,” Gerry says, but Jon shakes his head with defeat.

“It’s best to assume he already does. Even if he doesn’t, he can look into your heads at any time to know exactly what I told you.”

“Then we won’t give him any reason to look,” Martin speaks up, and everyone turns to him. He looks at Jon with a quiet sort of determination. “We do our jobs and keep up appearances. If we don’t let him see we know something, then he shouldn’t suspect it, right?”

Jon frowns.

“Well, you’re technically right,” Sasha says. “But we need a way to communicate that won’t raise any suspicions.”

Jon runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Damn these worms. The tunnels were great for this in the past. Or, rather, the future.” He grimaces. “Either way, off the table for now.”

“Let’s keep to texting then,” Tim says with a shrug. “If he’s two hundred years old, there’s no way he knows how to use social media.”

“He doesn’t need to—” Jon stops and sighs. “You know what, fine. It’s not like I have a better idea.”

“Then it’s settled.” Sasha claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Rest of today and Sunday for processing lifechanging news about eldritch horrors being a major part of our reality, and on Monday we pretend to work while conspiring how to murder our boss.”

“Just your typical week at the Magnus Institute,” Tim snorts half-heartedly.

“The first time around I pressed Elias about installing a CO2 system in the ventilation in case of an emergency,” Jon says. “I’ll bring it up with him.”

“Excellent,” Sasha gives Jon a smile and looks over her notes. “God, I have so much to process.”

“Literally same.” Tim rests his head on his hands. “My head is going to explode.”

“I-I should probably be getting back to the Archives,” Martin says hesitantly, looking out the window.

“I’ll keep you company.” Jon stands up. “I need to pick up a statement or two anyway.”

“Is that just work or…” Tim trails off and Jon gives him a tense look. “Right. Right, uh… Enjoy?” He cringes and waves his hand dismissively. Jon chuckles sympathetically.

“Thanks.”

Gerry leaves with them and bids them goodbye soon after, clearly sensing some tension in the air. Jon and Martin travel to the Institute in near silence and go down to the Archives almost as if on autopilot. Jon unlocks his office and gathers a few random statements into his bag. As he exists the office, he notices Martin sitting at his own desk, staring down at the floor.

“Martin?” Jon asks quietly after locking the door. Martin doesn’t respond, so he walks up closer. He notices there are tears in Martin’s eyes. “Hey. What’s going on?”

He places a hand lightly on Martin’s shoulder and his grey eyes look up at him.

“There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” He asks almost inaudibly and Jon’s heart cracks.

“No, no, Martin. There isn’t.” Jon shakes his head. “You’re… It’s all my fault. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

“You’re not… You’re not hurting me, Jon.” Martin says reaching up for his elbow. “It’s… It’s the fog. Like you said.”

“I brought the fog.” Jon’s voice trembles, tears pushing their way into his eyes. “It targeted you because of me. You’re not doing anything wrong, I promise.”

“Will you stay?” Martin asks, looking into Jon’s eyes pleadingly. Jon cannot refuse; he really doesn’t want to leave Martin alone right now, even though the pain in his chest is short of unbearable.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay.”

---

Author's Note: No, YOURE crying. I regret to inform you the next chapter is going to be worse.

Chapter title from Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford & Sons :)

#tma oftm #tma #niki.writes #the magnus archives #tma fic #jonathan sims #jonmartin #heehoo #im having so much fun writing the dreams #dipping my toes into horror fiction with my comfort character by my side #one of these days i'll write an original story i swear #point of view doesnt count cause i dont like it anymore. it'll get rewritten #lyria deserves a Good story #anyways this is about the magnus archives i'll shut up now

[woman-loving]

If the label fits, wear it

Selection from Lesbians Talk: Making Black Waves, eds. Valerie Mason-John and Ann Khambatta, 1993.

Below is a short chapter that discusses some of the terminology available to Black British lesbians in the early 90s.

“The labels you use to describe yourself are important. I think that any labels we have are only there because of the society we live in. I mean, look at the plethora of them.” --Jackie Kay

Labelling--placing people in rigid categories and imposing a name tag--has been a common feature of colonisation. Often names have been imposed on us from the outside and sometimes Black people have used these labels to help create an identity. For example, by reclaiming as positive words such as Black that were once used to denigrate us.

Dominant White British culture is full of racist language and images. And in the lesbian and gay world, the terminology which has developed is born out of White western experience. Black lesbians live in an environment which presumes that to be White is the norm, so words such as woman or gay, used without the prefix Black or a country of origin, are assumed to refer to White people. Black lesbians need to create their own words that refer to their specific experiences and place them at the centre of the English language. What follows are some of the words we as Black lesbians use to describe ourselves and our opinions about them.

Zami

Zami is a Caribbean word particular to the island of Carriacou. The late Audre Lorde in her book Zami: A New Spelling of My Name (1982) uses zami to describe women who have sexual and loving relationships with each other. Since then some Black women have used zami to define their sexual preference and it was the name used for the two Black lesbian conferences, Zami I and II. However, some Black lesbians have not heard of it.

I use zami because it comes out of an African-Caribbean culture. It refers to women loving women and supporting women. It refers to sexual practice as well as to communities of women surviving and doing things together. Zami means one or all of these things. Dorothea Smartt.

Zami is a term we use back home. I don’t like handles. As far as I’m concerned, I’m a woman loving women. Madge

I use zami when I don’t want people generally to understand what I’m talking about. Aqeela Alam

I have a problem with zami because it’s what I call Afrekeke. It conjures up the type of Black women who walk around with African prints on, and say if you don’t wear ethnic clothes you’re not Black enough. Araba Mercer

Zami is about an experience in the Caribbean. The words lesbian or zami do not have to be transferred geographically; each definition describes a particular experience. Femi Otitoju

Khush

Khush is an Urdu word which came originally from Indian culture, where it means gay and happy and also signifies ecstatic pleasure. The term has become popular among some Asian lesbians and gay men. British-based film director Pratibha Parmar named her television documentary about South Asian lesbians and gay men Khush.

Khush is not a word that says lesbian or indeed anything else about your sexuality. It means happy, and doesn’t even have the same double meaning as gay has. In modern-day Urdu it doesn’t mean anything. Khush is correctly pronounced hush, but no one says it properly and that is one of the reasons I don’t like using it. Aqeela Alam

Khush and zami are terms from India and Africa, I’m a Sri Lankan lesbian. B: Sri Lanka P: Sri Lanka/England (QR)

Lesbian

Lesbian is an English word derived from the name of the inhabitants of the Greek island Lesbos, where the woman-loving poet Sappho lived in the sixth century BC. It has been used to describe women whose personal identity and lifestyle are based on emotional and sexual desire for and relationships with other women.

Lesbian implies a predominately Eurocentric aesthetic about sex and sexuality. Dorothea Smartt

My best definition is Black lesbian because our experiences are totally different from those of White lesbians. Marlene Bogle

I identify with lesbian because I Came Out through the Women’s Liberation Movement, where White women supported me in my sexuality. Lesbian identifies me, because it is part of the European culture within which I was brought up, and which allowed me to find an identity. Femi Otitoju

Dyke

Dyke is derived from the American word Bulldike. The origins of Bulldike are not known, though it is likely that the word came from African-American culture since it appears in Blues songs of the 1930s. (Bessie Jackson recorded a song in 1935 called ‘B-D Blues’ which refers to Bulldike.)

Dyke appears in American slang dictionaries of the 1940s as a word for a woman who adopts masculine, butch roles. It is possible that dyke got its connotations of masculinity through association with African-American culture: during American and British slavery, women of African descent were forced to do traditional male jobs and were rarely perceived as feminine by White people. White lesbians in Britain and the US today continue to place Black lesbians in butch roles because of this racial stereotype.

In the 1950s and 60s dyke was used in the lesbian subculture as a word for a butch. Since the 1980s it has been used as a positive word for a lesbian who is stroppy, independent and strong or a lesbian with politics. Some lesbians believe that dyke is a word that originated in Greek mythology and once meant hermaphrodite.

I prefer dyke to lesbians. Lesbian is attached to Lesbos, and certainly Lesbos wasn’t the beginning of lesbians. Dyke isn’t a Eurocentric word, it is not attached to a place in Europe. Aqeela Alam

If I feel in a ragga or swagger mood I may call myself a dyke. Araba Mercer

Dyke for me is about being strong and difficult. I use it among men. Femi Otitoju

Gay

Gay is derived from the Middle French term gai. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries it was a word used in British theatre to describe female characters (played by men) who were saucy and sexually promiscuous. During the nineteenth century it became a term for women and men who were different from the norm. In the 1920s and 30s it was adopted by homosexual men to describe themselves.

In the late 1960s and early 70s gay was the term chosen by homosexual women and men organising together politically, as in the Gay Liberation Front in Britain. It has now become the standard word for a homosexual, used by heterosexuals and homosexuals alike. During the past decade gay has increasingly come to refer only to homosexual men, and ‘lesbian and’ is added if women are included. Many Black lesbians see the term as meaning both White and male.

Gay to me means White men with handlebar moustaches, white t-shirts, tight jeans, swinging leather jackets at Gay Pride. Dorothea Smartt

I use gay when I’m talking to my cousins. Marlene Bogle

Gay is a term that I believe grew out of the Stonewall riots in New York in 1969, when drag queens were fighting back against the police. These White genderfuckers have nothing to do with me. Femi Otitoju

Queer

Queer originally meant strange and odd, crooked, not straight. In the early twentieth century it was a term of abuse for homosexuals.

During the late 1980s queer was reclaimed by American lesbians and gay men as a term of self-definition. Queer politics--typified by activist groups such as ACT UP and Queer Nation--developed out of a predominantly White North American experience of anger that the strategy of gay assimilation into mainstream society had still failed to win basic rights. The queer movement believes that women and men should organise together to promote an ‘up front, in yer face’ sexual politics aimed at upsetting the straight world and sometimes other lesbians and gay men. Queer has also been adopted as an intellectual position by some lesbian and gay writers and academics.

Queer can be used as a loose term to embrace people of different sexual orientations and perversions. The queer ‘scene’ has provided an opportunity for some lesbians to experiment sexually--to go out ‘packing’ for the night with a strap-on dildo, and to cruise gay men. The queer debate is probably understood by few lesbians in Britain and some Black lesbians believe it has nothing to do with them.

Queer feels very White to me. It feels too trendy, and trendy terms come and go. Jackie Kay

Queer is a new generation. I associate it with SM. Dorothea Smartt

Queer means people walking around saying: what’s that, can I fuck it? Will it fuck me? Queer people are in a different place from me. I’m not on the edge of society. Femi Otitoju

I have no problem with queer--I call myself bent, pervert, lesbian or dyke. The problem is with the people who try to attack me with these words. Linda Bellos

Feminist

A feminist is someone who struggles for women’s rights and believes in the equality of the sexes. It could be argued that there have been feminists since women and men have been on earth. Women such as the Jewish leader Deborah, Boadicea, Cleopatra and Joan of Arc, all of whom broke away from traditional models of female behaviour, could be counted as early examples.

The most recent wave of feminism in Britain and the US began in the 1960s and 70s. The movement was dominated by White women who seemed to think that all the problems women experience are caused by patriarchy, ignoring racism. In the 1980s Black women in Britain reclaimed the term feminist and redefined feminism to include issues of race, class, gender, sexuality and imperialism. They acknowledged the efforts of the long line of Black women before them who had negotiated their way through White western culture.

Defining ourselves as feminists, however means that we have placed ourselves in the front line to fight oppression and exploitation in the systematic ways in which they deny us power and control over our lives--racism, imperialism, class and male supremacy. ‘We Are Here: Black Feminist Newsletter’, Issue 10, 1986

In our countries of origin there are long traditions of feminists who have struggled against different forms of patriarchy. So the term feminist will mean different things to women of different backgrounds.

I call myself feminist. I don’t subscribe to the argument that feminist is a White woman’s word. Araba Mercer

Feminist is a major way I find to explain and analyse the world. Despite arguments I’ve had with other Black women about how feminist has been very White and often betrayed Black women, I still call myself a feminist. B: England P: Guyana/Ireland (QR)

I use feminist out of habit and laziness. Most people know what it means. But feminism still is a White western ideology and still can’t treat Black women as worthy of being at the centre of the debate. B: Trinidad and Tobago P: Jamaica/Trinidad (QR)

I understand the feminist revolution to be a White middle-class movement that failed to take on issues of race. B: England P: Nigeria (QR)

A black woman is not a feminist, she is a tireless phenomenon in a White-dominated racist society. B: England P: Jamaica (QR)

Womanist

‘Womanist is to feminist as purple is to lavender,’ wrote the Black American novelist Alice Walker in In Search of or Mothers’ Gardens. Walker describes a womanist as a woman who loves other women sexually or non-sexually, prefers female culture, is spiritual, loves music, food, and herself. Womanist can mean a Black feminist and is more widely used in the US than in Britain.

Feminist is outdated, now Black women are calling themselves womanist. Marlene Bogle

Womanist at least addresses the issues of race and class. B: London P: Nigeria (QR)

At one point there was a discussion about whether you should call yourself a feminist or a womanist. Basically terms need to be simplified because you wouldn’t understand what womanist meant unless you’d read certain books. Anne Hayfield

Some women use womanist when they feel that they’re into feminism but don’t like the word feminist because it sounds too militant. Hope Massiah

Race versus sexuality

It is inevitable that Black lesbians from different background will choose different names to define themselves. Our experiences are rich, vibrant and diverse; it would be ludicrous to think there could be only one right term for us. Labels are fluid: some Black lesbians have their own names in their own cultures and other words for their families or other parts of the lesbian and gay world. Race, class and cultural and social influences all play a part in each individuals’ choice of which term suits her best, as does the situation in which she finds herself. There are also particular and legitimate issues like racism and discrimination which affect our lives as Black women. Prefixes such as Black or the names of the countries from which we originate are necessary to acknowledge and validate these experiences.

Pressure in the lesbian world for individuals to define themselves and their political allegiances on the basis of sexuality alone has sometimes meant that Black women feel forced to choose between their sexuality and race. For many Black lesbians, sexuality and race cannot be separated, both are integral components of their identity. Others believe that race is more important, either because it is more visible or because it is made invisible by both the heterosexual and homosexual world an needs to be affirmed or stated. To refer to either our sexuality or our race is not enough when speaking about Black lesbian lives.

My sexuality and race are both important, because the forces that subjugate me as a lesbian are the same as those which oppress me as a Black woman. Sometimes I am more vocal as a lesbian, at other times I am more vocal about my Blackness. B: Trinidad and Tobago P: Jamaica/Trinidad (QR)

Although my sexuality is an integral part of myself, my race in general is more significant. Linda Bellos

At the moment race is more important because global issues of violence and poverty are important. When you first Come Out sexuality is often the most important thing. Araba Mercer

Most of the time my race is the issue, because as a dark-skinned African-Caribbean woman it is the most obvious thing about me. My sexuality becomes an issue when I’m around Black people. Dorothea Smartt

To me what is important is to be a woman and lesbian in Britain. I would associate myself with the lesbian community rather than with the Chinese one. B: Hong Kong P: China (LHIC)

My sex and race go hand in hand. I couldn’t begin to separate one from the other, because the heterosexism in this society compounds the racism I face from day to day... If any one part of me is not provided for, either my sexuality or race, I can’t be happy. Femi Otitoju

My race is where I’ve come from, my heritage, my history; my sexuality is who I am and my individuality. I can’t live with just one of these. B: England P: Cyprus (QR)

#lesbian #britain #women of color #valerie mason john #making black waves #labels #terminology #zami #khush #dyke #queer #black women #asian women

[heaven-in-a-wild-flower]

Jurdan Headcanon (Jude Duarte and Cardan Greenbriar)

I’ve also published this on ao3 if you’d rather read it there, here’s the link. I’m making this a full series (Cardan in the Mortal World).

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Previous Chapter (Chapter 2.5)

Cardan in the Mortal World (Chapter 3)

Flowery Flour, Beeping Time Bombs and Chocolate Lips

Cardan decides to surprise Jude with a home-cooked meal (he read in a magazine that that is 2nd in the Top Ten Most Romantic Date Ideas! He wanted to choose the 1st but for the life of him couldn’t figure out what Net-flix and Chill meant). Jude has gone out with Vivi and so he has a few hours to prepare the food. He doesn’t think it’s going to be that difficult, there are instructions and tiny people showing the process on the Book of Mac (he imagines Jude exasperpatedly shaking her head and correcting him, “It’s called a MacBook, Cardan!)

He opens up the list of ingredients and copies it down onto a sheet of paper. Then he sets off for the nearest market, Walmart (Cardan nobody calls Walmart a market!). The door opens without his pushing it open. Hmm, maybe they have pixies to open it here.

The air is cool inside, conditioned by another Mortal device. He roams the aisles, searching for all the ingredients on his list. He’s making Chocolate Cake with Buttercream Frosting, he doesn’t understand most of those words but it is a cake so he thinks it’ll be alright. He finds most of the ingredients quite easily (although he’s still a bit confused what flour is and if it is indeed grounded up flowers). He’s only has milk left from the list.

He knows that they usually use the milk from cows in the Mortal World. He’s wondering where they keep the cows in this place. He stops a man with the word, Walmart tattooed on his shirt (he must be the head of this market).

“How can I help?” the man asks, turning to him.

“Oh yes, I will require your assistance in determining where the cows are kept.”

The man looks befuddled, “Sorry sir. We…don’t sell cows here.”

“No, I do not intend to purchase the cows, I desire only the milk,” Cardan clarifies.

“Oh! You want milk? Okay then, follow me.” The man sets off and Cardan follows. He then leads him to a glass case of packaged bottles. “Here you are.”

Cardan looks closely at the bottles and sees some labeled ‘milk’. “Will this suffice for Chocolate Cake with Buttercream Frosting?” he asks. He wants to make sure he’s using authentic ingredients (Jude would kill him is he mistakenly poisoned her).

“Yeah sure, dude,” the man replies.

***

Cardan is following along with the little lady on the U-Tube. It’s going perfectly. He’s even put on the right attire, a pink apron that says ‘Kiss The Cook’. He likes this idea, to give clear instructions for what to do even on the clothing. Maybe he should have some such thing sewed onto his kingly robes too (he thinks of Jude kissing him every time she reads it and grins happily. Oh yes, it is certainly a wonderful idea.)

When the lady, her name is Rosanna Pansino (he thinks this is quite a distinguished name and can’t understand why she would shorten it to ‘Ro’), says to whip the cream, he pauses. She didn’t ask him to purchase a whip. He checks the shelves, (maybe this is a normal kitchen tool?) and still doesn’t find one. He watches the video and realizes that she doesn’t use a whip at all, just some metallic contraption that he has in the kitchen too.

It takes him a few tries to crack the egg correctly (after this ordeal, his respect for his cooks has gone up drastically). Eventually the batter has been successfully transferred to a pan and placed inside the heating box (Oven). He sets the time on the dials and sits back to wait for it to be done.

In the mean time, he wonders at the bliss he sees on Mortals’ faces as they talk about chocolate. He decides to try some cocoa powder to see for himself if it is as good as they say. He picks up a spoonful of the powder and puts the whole thing in his mouth. His face shrivels up and he starts coughing madly. He drinks some wine to get the taste out of his mouth and thinks that Mortals have very strong taste buds to be able to not only endure that but to also enjoy it.

When the timer on the heating box has finally come down to 10 seconds he watches it carefully, unsure what is about to happen. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and then…beep, beep, beep! He startles and tries to figure out what to do. Ro did not show this part at all. He tries to remember what he’s seen in those moo-vies he and Jude sometimes watch. Beeping means…time bomb! The heating box has overheated or some such and is about to explode.

He runs out of the house and crashes into someone. No, not someone, Jude.

“Cardan, what are you- what’s happened?” she asks, holding his flour covered arms and staring into his panicky eyes with confusion.

“The heating box is about to explode!” he blurts out.

“The heating box? Oh, the oven. What did you do to it?” she asks, raising one brow.

“I tried to make a Chocolate Cake with Buttercream Frosting and I followed Ro’s instructions perfectly. But at the end of the timer it started beeping like a time bomb!”

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Jude says and bursts out laughing. He loves this sound and his eyes go dreamy for a moment, all his panic forgotten and his body relaxes.

“What is it? How are you not worried?” he asks, when he’s finally regained his wits. She pulls him back into the house and opens the heating box and takes the pan out after putting on gloves (Cardan understands the importance of looking good but is this really the time to be accessorizing? But since he knows nothing about this, he stays wisely silent).

“That’s just the sound it makes when it’s done baking,” she informs him, smiling fondly.

“Oh. Well, that is bizarre and unnecessarily alarming. A tinkling of bells would have worked just fine,” he says petulantly, crossing his arms and frowning (Jude thinks this is simply adorable, even if she’ll never tell him that).

***

They continue the decorating together. He likes this a lot better. He’s gotten many many kisses. The apron is definitely working. They finally eat the chocolate cake. It takes a lot of persuading on Jude’s part (maybe even some bribing). She doesn’t understand why he’s glaring suspiciously at it. When she finally feeds him a piece, his face relaxes.

“Oh. Oh.” He says reverently. “I understand now.”

Jude is expectedly puzzled but forgets all about it when he kisses her. Mmm, Cardan hasn’t wiped his mouth properly and he tastes like chocolate but she certainly isn’t complaining.

Tagging, @jurdanhell @nee-naw-nee-naw-beepbeep

Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tagging list (or removed).

Next Chapter

#jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jude cardan #jurdan headcanons #jurdan hc #Cardan in the mortal world! #tcp #the cruel prince #tfota #the folk of the air

[l-wannabe-l]

Short Circuit

Chapter 5: New Avenues

Austin gets some distressing news, and a new enemy enters the ring.

Mostly a chapter of these two growing closer. Plus some plot I guess.

The roads thinned out the longer I drove. The Connor’s remained quiet for the most part, Sarah Connor the only one to speak giving me directions to avoid crowded roads. I didn’t need them, and the urge to take actions against her for daring to order me about is strong, but my mission and side objective are too important to risk aggravating the matriarch. She finally stops after one final order to pull into an abandoned garage next to a gas station. The T-800 leaves to open the garage door, the simple lock it has breaks under the sheer strength of the T-800 model. As soon as the car is parked the others climb out. Sarah quickly herds her children as far away from me as the small space will allow. I grant them their ill perceived safety as I walk along the wall on the opposite side. I stop near a door as I receive a message. A message sent by Skynet and received across time and space.

“Mission Failure”

My sudden inaction goes unnoticed by the eldest and youngest Connor but not by Aria.

“Austin, what’s wrong?” A certain lilt to her voice indicative of concern, similar to when she spoke to John and her mother. A concern more likely directed towards them, given the glimmer of fear still present in her eyes when she looks at me.

“Skynet has deemed me defective, my mission has been labeled a failure.” I respond, my voice ringing hollow even to me.

“You said you abandoned your mission. Why are you surprised?” She asks but her calm demeanor indicates she isn’t as surprised as her words make her out to be.

“I lied.” A strange feeling changes my tone without my say. A grave itching sensation as if something is trying to claw its way out from inside me. My teeth grind against themselves.

"So you were still planning to kill me." This time Johns is the one to speak.

"Of course I was!" I don’t have the patience to pretend anymore. Processing the news, and this new feeling takes precedence over keeping up the facade. I turn and walk out the door. Silence will be more beneficial to me than answering any banal questions they might have. The sound of the door opening again alerts me to Aria's presence, I see her just out of my periphery. The light from the gas station showing off the shine in her dark brown hair. She pulls her cardigan closed across her bare midriff. The night had dropped several degrees, she must be feeling the chill that resulted from it.

“You ok?” She asks. I understand this question to be a very common nicety among humans. Oftentimes an honest answer is not at all what the asker desires.

“I’m still in functioning form.”

“That’s… good but not what I meant,” She says, coming to sit next to me on the bench pulling up her legs to hold them close to her, “I mean what are you going to do now that you don’t have a mission anymore?”

“I still have one objective.”

“You do?!”

“I still haven’t been loved by you.” I tell her. She flinches back when I turn to look at her head.

“You were serious about the whole love thing?!”

“I was, still am.” Now without Skynet, the only purpose left to me is the one I assigned myself, “I don’t have any purpose otherwise. I was never meant to return to my time, Skynet would have no need for me anyway.” I tell her bluntly, that fact seems to change that clawing to a weighty bulk. My form sinking under it involuntarily. Aria lets go of herself, letting her feet hit the ground. She leans forward to meet my eyes, a smile just barely on her lips.

“Join the club. Looking for purpose is something every human struggles with.” She says as she stretches her arms upward. Her cardigan falls open to reveal a glimpse of a leather harness carrying a small sidearm. So that's where she got that gun.

“But I am not human.”

“No, but it looks like you’re going to have to learn.” She says as she stands. Most likely intent on rejoining her family but stops as she looks back at me. She lifts her hand, reaching out before pausing.

“Can I?” she asks. I nod. After all, there’s nothing she can do to harm me so what... oh. 

Oh

Slim fingers card through my hair, or what substituted for it. I register the warmth of her palm and the texture of her hand as she musses up the styling before working to smooth it back.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh right, sorry,” She removes her hand removing the warmth but leaving behind another new “feeling” to deal with, “Your second lesson, some people show affection through physical contact. The why and how depends on the situation and the type of relationship. I was... trying to comfort you.”

“Is it always like this, these signs of physical affection?”

“Not exactly, It’s usually only done when people are close to each other.” I stand to be more eye level with her, despite the obvious height difference. As I do I take note of the slim distance between us and her reaction, the dilated pupils that show off more of the forest hue of her eyes, and a slight hitch in her breathing.

“I want to be closer to you.” Her eyes widen at my words, a rosy dusting settles across her cheeks, curious, “How close are you to John?” Aria lets out a breath, body seemingly deflating at my question.

“Oh right, you want to be closer to me like John, my brother.” She remarks seemingly talking more to herself than to me. “I don’t know if there is a clear answer to that other than the fact that he’s my brother. Let’s just head back inside. We can figure the rest out later, Ok?” She looks at me one more time before turning away. I realize that her eyes didn’t show any fear or trepidation when she did. I follow after her back into the garage. When I enter I see the T-800 sitting in front of a mirror fixing up what looks to be a gash wound on his head. Carefully arranging his hair and tissue to conceal it. Sarah Connor stands between him and John who’s busy fiddling with a radio that was obviously taken from the police car.

“What did we miss?” Aria asked after taking in the sight.

“Mom and I cracked open his head,” John answered distractedly. Pointing vaguely in the T-800’s direction, “We reprogrammed him so now he can learn to be less weird.” They must have switched him from ‘Read Only’ to ‘Write’. Aria looks like she’s going to speak but is cut off by her mother who pulls her away to speak privately. It won’t do any good considering my sensors work at a higher capacity than a human’s so I take a seat on a nearby metal chair to listen in.

“Aria, I know I went along with this back at the hospital but if I understand correctly that thing was using a false truce to try and kill John later on?”

“That’s about it. He apparently played his part so well Skynet basically abandoned him because of it.”

“...It just admitted to planning to kill us.”

“Yes but he isn’t gonna now though, and isn’t that good news,” She said, but a tremble in her voice makes the statement sound more like a question. By the silence that follows Sarah Connor obviously doesn’t believe it. Aria lets out a tired sigh, “Mom, you didn’t see him out there, he just looked so... lost,” The admission has me looking over at them just in time to lock eyes with Aria before she quickly turns back to Sarah who isn’t convinced.

“That is still a Terminator.”

“All the more reason to have him here where we can keep tabs on him rather than out there doing who knows what.”

“Having both of those things around is just putting John in danger!”

“He’ll be in danger anyway. Skynet will try again and Austin has the most up to date information. If we turn him away we'll be exposing ourselves to dangerous surprises.” Sarah seems to concede, walking away to retake her place next to John. Who managed to get the radio working. The blank static from the police radio gives way to voices talking quickly about vandalism, murder, theft, more murder, and the missing status of a young girl. Kathrine Brewster.

Across town in the shopping district. A boutique window begins to light up, not by the electrical lights installed but by the streaks of lighting emanating from a silver sphere growing and heating up before bursting and disappearing in a blinding flash. A slim feminine figure is left behind crouching amongst the mannequins. The woman takes a moment to scan her new surroundings before looking at them. She doesn’t find what she’s looking for, the clothing they wear burned beyond repair and recognition. No way to make accurate replications. So she takes to the streets walking along the sidewalk, her long blond hair the only modicum of decency but she continues unbothered. A beep catches her attention; the sound comes from a car being unlocked. The woman who owns it walks quickly unaware of the newcomer or their intentions until she spots them after getting into her car. The woman’s nudity caught her by surprise. 

“Omg,” She whispers to herself in disbelief before the concern sets in, “Are you ok!?” She calls out in an attempt to help but receives no response from the approaching naked woman who is currently scanning her vehicle. While outdated to the mechanical being, it is rather high-end for the time. A good choice of transportation.

“Do you want me to call 911?” The woman tries again, thinking the poor girl in a state of shock or something of the like. The blonde finally faces her, giving a soft smile that doesn't reach her eyes and reaches forward to touch the clothing near her neckline. Fingers splayed and placed methodically to sample each type of fabric.

“I like this car.”

“What?” The woman asks, confused. Her last words before the Terminator quickly swipes her hand away, efficiently slicing her neck. She easily lifts the woman out of the car and drops her onto the pavement. Leaving her there to bleed out. Clothing reminiscent of the dying woman's begin to take shape on her naked form. Detailed down to the hair bun. She lets herself into the car before starting it up and driving off. She helps herself to the woman’s purse pulling out a cell phone, a quick disassembly gives access to the inner workings and the service it’s connected to. Liquid metal seeps into the SD card allowing her to search the database for names, faces and addresses. A list quickly forms of future enemies of Skynet, of people she is tasked to terminate. She charts a course for the nearest address. The Brewster residence.

#terminator #the terminator #t2 #terminator judgement day #terminator 2 #terminator imagine #t800 #john connor #t-1000 #sarah connor #aria connor

[strays-to-the-world-story]

Strays To The World PM Vs PADA Arc: Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Black Sheep

Chapter specific warnings: Mafia featured heavily, reference to murder in the past, talk of weapons (guns and knives specifically), talk of smuggling (weapons), talk of bounty hunters, blackmail (sort of), mention of a large amount of people being killed and/or injured in an explosion, talk of a massacre in past, various mentions of blood, breif mention of war, brief mention of the ability to survive a bomb shell (via supernatural ability), mention of past injury, mention of hospital, talk of government not being good, mention of loss of memory speculated through injury, implication of past trauma, mention of assassins in passing, threats, violence, eye injury involving contact lenses, blood,

Chapter word count: 4867

Read on AO3

Masterpost

~

“That’s the third shipment this week!” Brian threw the report onto the table in front of him. The executives were sat around the long table with their boss, Brian McKay, at the end of it. They each had screens in the angled desk in front of them. Kendall Monroe was sat closest to the boss; on McKay’s right, the seat opposite him was empty and the screen had been moved, on his right sat Vanessa Zhao, next to her sat James Sinclair, opposite Vanessa was Ace (who no one believed should still be an executive since the previous boss that he bribed had been killed 3 years ago); next to him sat Sakura Iwamoto. The only one not sat down was Kamui Nakamura. He was stood in the shadows by the wall, one of his hands in his pocket, the other holding the tablet from the desk, and his head hung. “If any more of them get attacked, our units will be bringing knives to gun fights. Without supplies, we can’t keep our ties.” Zhao was the first to speak. “Tomorrow’s is the last shipment we should be receiving until the next band come around, even if we manage to get that one through, we won’t have enough supplies; will have to get more in soon – most likely before the end of the month.” Monroe spoke up. “However, we will have enough for our defences, which should hold people off until we get more.”

“What are the leads on the attacker?” Iwamoto asked. “One of the cameras on ship three picked up the face of him as attacked. It’s The Black Sheep.” The boss answered. “Will we have enough for defences then? I can see us easily losing more supplies from the next shipment if we’re dealing with him.” Motioning to Monroe, Zhao challenged his comment. Kamui spoke up, having thought of a plan in his head. His voice sent shivers through the executives. It was wispy and sounded like it belonged more to a ghost than a living being. “We could make deals with bounty hunters. Get some of their weapons in return for ability users they’re looking for.”

“We won’t be able to get enough people that quickly.”

“We don’t need numbers, we need rarity. Make sure we don’t hand over anyone in the Mafia; we’ve got weapons. Or.” Kamui lifted his head as he walked towards the table. “We can do something about The Black Sheep directly. Reveal everything about him and leave him stranded, alone – just as he was when he joined the mafia six years ago, if I was told correctly.”

“And what will that do, Nakamura? Cause him to have reason to come for all of us rather than just our weapons? If he came to fight us, we’d be relying solely on abilities to fight and defend; we hardly have enough combat abilities within the group. I need specific requirements for my ability to work, so we can’t use it in combat. Need I remind you that Zhao, Sinclair, Monroe, and McKay don’t even have abilities?” Ace turned to the younger executive. “We don’t need a large number of abilities to fight him. We reveal his past, cause his team to abandon him, if he tries to come after us, we have four-thousand-one-hundred-and-ninety-four members. There’s plenty of weapons, plenty of abilities. He’s just one person.” Kamui retorted. “Nakamura, be quiet.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Ace is right. We can’t risk having him attack us. If you want proof as to why, tell us the details of him leaving the mafia 4 years ago.”

“Is that an order or a suggestion?”

“An order.” Nakamura glanced towards the tablet in his hand, flicking through files. “The Black Sheep, as he is now known by both the public and the Port Mafia, used his gravitational manipulation ability to destroy Port Mafia warehouses as a final act before he left the Port Mafia. During that, he killed eight-hundred-and-seventy-four people and injured the other one-hundred-and-forty-six that were at the warehouses.”

“It’s too dangerous to fight him head on.” Sinclair repeated the previous assessment of the situation. Leaning onto the table, Iwamoto suggested a plan. “What if we send the wolf to hunt the sheep?”

“Too dangerous.” Kamui replied instantly. “You’re biased; too protective of him.” Ace spoke. “So what? Maybe I am! But it’s still too dangerous. We all know what happened during the massacre induced by Quilin.”

“You’ll have to be a lot more specific.”

“Jay Hewitt and Samuel Price – what did you think I meant, Ace? It’s the only thing that applies to this situation. The prediction abilities clashing was almost just as bad as Quilin’s ability. Think what will happen if we have gravitational manipulation abilities clashing. Not only that, Hewitt and Price had different forms of the same ability type. Nakamura and The Black Sheep have the exact same ability because there aren’t variations of it due to it being such a new one. We can’t have Airi Nakamura fight The Black Sheep. And that means we can’t have Maldoon fight either. He’s too uncontrolled. Besides, the P.A.D.A. will probably have caught wind of what’s going on and will likely get someone to watch over the shipment in case The Black Sheep does appear. If they choose Dazai to look over that, all our attempts would be wasted the second Maldoon saw him.” As Kamui spoke, he sat down on the empty chair between McKay and Ace. “I have an idea.” Vanessa spoke up.

Dust’s eyes flickered open as light shone into the room. They were in a plain apartment room, though there was furniture. A set of clothes were folded on a desk with a glasses case next to it and a note scribbled onto a piece of paper. Next to them was a phone with a black case on it. Rubbing their eyes, Dust headed over to the desk and read the note on the pile of clothes. ‘You are in an agency apartment. This is just a selection of clothes we had that should fit you. Measurements came from Nadira’s ability. She also managed to pull some strings and get a pair of glasses that fit your prescription. You can keep all of them. Phone numbers for the agency’s members have been added but nothing else has been done. If you want to brush your hair, Kei-chan’s offered her hairbrush, but please do return it because it’s the only one she has (we’re in 3, apartment next to yours). Can you come to the agency? We’d like to talk with you and we’re all there since we’ve got to sort files for the case. – Kenji.’ After reading the note, Dust got changed into the clothing provided. They had been given a black shirt, black trousers, a red waistcoat with a brown back and a red tie. A pair of black dress shoes were resting on the floor underneath the desk. Dust looked in the mirror, humming slightly. They’d forgotten just how green their eyes were. Turning on the phone, they looked through the contact list. Each contact had a picture of their face, helping Dust match the names up. The pictures all seemed to be taken from one image, presumably a celebration as they were all wearing more special clothes and the two children and Dazai looked younger. Dust already knew Alejandro García, age 23, from him picking them up at the river. Jamie Ray was the leader in the blue suit, who looked about 21. Kaori and Kenji didn’t need any identification. Kiara Johnson, age 20, was the brown-haired female that was sat working when Dust entered the office. The one that had been eating was called Kyza Jones, age 26. A feminine Chinese person with long, black hair and brown eyes, looking 25, who was wearing a dress in the picture, was called Monica Wu, though Dust was sure they hadn’t seen them in the office. Nadira Kahn was recognised easily – age 23. The person who had been talking with Kyza was Niko Matthews, age 22. A person with black hair and dark brown eyes was wearing a suit in the picture and labelled as Sky Davies, age 25. Once again, Dust was sure they weren’t in the office. What struck Dust as odd was the fact that Dazai’s contact didn’t have a first name, where a dot had been put in place. No forename was unusual, though, if he had a past that he wasn’t proud of, it wouldn’t be surprising if that was Dazai distancing himself from it.

As Dust opened the door to the agency, the scene they saw left them in shock. Everyone was spread around with files being handed between each other. They all kept interrupting each other and talking over someone else. Obviously, something had happened between writing the note and now. “This is a very different situation to what I thought I’d be entering to.”

“Oh, hello!” Kenji called out. “Uh, hi.”

“We’re not normally like this, we’ve just got a lot to organise with the current situation at the port.” He stood up and walked over to Dust as he spoke. “That’s Monica.” Kenji pointed to a woman sorting through files both on the computer in front of her and the cabinet behind her. She matched the picture on the contact list. “She doesn’t work weekends or Thursdays, which is why you didn’t see her yesterday.” Monica offered a quick wave as she handed some files to Niko. “Why did you want to talk to me, then?”

“We want to offer you a job as a detective working here.” Dust glanced around the room. No one seemed to be objecting to what he was saying. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not exactly very good at deducing things.”

“Yeah, a lot of detectives don’t do that, normal police included. Except Sky, but they’ve got an ability that works along with that. And we have ‘Armed’ in our name for a reason. It says a lot about us when one of the skills typically needed is knowing how to wash blood out of clothes. It’s rare we have to, but it is useful to know how.”

“Do I need to do any tests?”

“Normally we would give people an entrance exam without telling them to see how they act in situations, but we sort of used yesterday’s situation to look at all the stuff we would in that, so you don’t need to do one. We will have to sort out paperwork and training and stuff, but training is done by just working with one of us. It’s usually the person who decided to recruit you or that you’d be a good member, but it was a collective decision with you, so if you do join, I’ll be training you up.”

“Alright.” From his desk, Dazai spoke up. “If you don’t, we will have legal issues with letting you stay at the agency housing. We can probably manage about a month. The café on the floor below that you hopefully saw coming up is always looking for more waiters. They get enough customers to keep them running, but people don’t like working there because of the chance that the Port Mafia will take advantage of the fact they’re right below us.”

“No need for all of that. I’m happy to work here.”

“Wonderful!” Kenji smiled as he spoke. “We’ll sort out paperwork and you ID by tomorrow if the GSAD isn’t too involved with The Black Sheep situation.” Jamie said. “Since you couldn’t tell what my ability was even while working with me, I’m going to give you a run-down of the abilities. Jamie can freeze and revert time – only 24 hours back at max, though. And for the love of all that is holy, please do not just ask to use it because messing with time is dangerous.”

“I saw a few shows when I was younger, it’s never normally that bad.”

“The Great War originally lasted three years, not nine. A more relevant example would be that I was originally meant to be born 6 years previously, making me a twin and Kaori wasn’t meant to be born since our brother never would’ve gone missing.”

“Wh-what?” Dust stared at Kenji. “How do you know that if it never happened?”

“Oh, I made it all up. But that’s the thing, you never know if it could be true.”

“He’s made a different story each time someone’s been hired since he was.” Kiara spoke up. “Back to abilities. Kyza can see the last memories of any deceased person by touching them. Sky isn’t here, but their ability is ultra-deduction, basically. Ale can put anyone into a state of unconsciousness. Kiara can enhance her strength – only for about 20 minutes since it’s quite draining, but she is a lot stronger than me when it’s activated. She could lift up the Tower Bridge if she wanted. My ability isn’t just strength enhancement, it’s immunity enhancement as well. I often keep it constantly active for that fact, though not at full strength. I could survive a bomb shell without needing any shelter.” Again, Dust simply stared. This kid was talking about it like it was nothing out of the ordinary. “However, if my ability was completely deactivated, it would be very easy to injure me due to – uh.” He quickly cut himself off. “Dazai can nullify any ability by touching the user or the ability – say someone had an ability that shot a beam from their hand, if Dazai touched that, it would nullify. However, say someone had a manipulation ability, Dazai would simply stop that part from being manipulated and if something was moving, he wouldn’t be able to stop it from moving.”

“I discovered that part the hard way, by having half a building thrown at me. I was in the hospital for a week, and I was 9.”

“Nadira can heal any injury no matter the severity.”

“Not for me though, I have to go to the actual hospital since she can’t use her ability on me.”

“Dazai, stop adding to Kenji’s explanation, you’re just avoiding work, and this is incredibly important.” Niko shouted over. “What’s going on at the moment?”

“Dust, please don’t change the subject, or I’ll never get back to this. Niko can create anything from the page of his notebook. Monica can manipulate electrical devices and while we’re on the topic of that, we need to set up your phone so that it has signal even when there shouldn’t be any.” Kenji spun around. “You can do that?”

“Monica can do that.” The woman sat by the filing cabinet spun around on her chair. “Turns out you don’t need to not change the subject, Kenji can do that himself.” She flicked her hand and a blue light flicked around her eyes. “Seiko Fukuzawa, if you do meet him, can create visual illusions.” She added. “I was… not going to remember them, yeah. Mr. Fukuzawa is the founder of the agency. If it’s needed, he will help give you combat training. He was originally the leader as well, but the former head of the GSAD forced them to leave the agency five years ago, which is when Jamie took over. I haven’t actually met Mr. Fukuzawa since I already had advanced combat training from my parents. I remember them mentioning his name along with two others though, one of them was referred to as Natsume, but I never asked, and it was a few years before Kaori and I moved out. In hindsight, I probably should’ve asked. Oh, and happy new year; welcome to 2038. If things are sorted out quickly enough, we’ll be having a New Year’s party tonight since we were very busy yesterday, but we’re doubtful that we’ll be free.” Dust nodded. “Ah! Rin! Finally!” Ale shouted out from where he had been watching his laptop. “Give me a break, it’s early.” The person on the other end of the call was a sixteen-year-old with light brown hair and brown eyes wearing a black t-shirt, jeans and trainers. Ze was stood back from zir computer and had footage from security cameras on the large screens around zem. “What do want, Alejandro?”

“The port around 5 pm – when there was the explosion. Can we get verification on exactly what happened? We’re assuming The Black Sheep and that’s what public are saying, but we’d like cameras.”

“Mafia cameras 38 to 49, on it. I’ll call you back when I’ve got an answer.” Ze flicked the screen next to zem, sending the footage around in a spiral. “No promises that you’ll be talking to me.”

“I know the drill.” The video call ended, and Ale’s screen turned back to the files. “Got Rin looking at security, now.” Dust turned to Kenji. “What’s this Black Sheep situation?”

“At around 5 pm last night, there was an explosion at the port similar to those that the Port Mafia have been dealing with on their supply routes. They get a restock during the Christmas and New Year season as the police are often busier and it’s easier to smuggle anything illegally. Many illegal groups operate around this time, not just the Port Mafia. During this time, they get any needed supplies, mainly weapons. The Black Sheep, named by the public and we believe he just went with it, is a former executive of the Port Mafia, eighteen, as Dazai informed us. He left four years ago rather explosively and recently he and his team has been attacking the Port Mafia’s supply ships that dock in the harbour. So far, there are no reports of civilians being injured, but we have been asked by the government to investigate a few things relating to it. One: they want to be entirely sure that no people outside of criminal organisations are injured in these attacks as the harbour is public. Two: they want to know exactly what The Black Sheep’s team has in the way of weaponry. Although the public seem to back him as he is against the Port Mafia, which actually isn’t that bad compared to other gangs operating around London – there’s three anti-ability gangs just within the area the mafia mainly operates – due to his history, the government is worried that he may begin to target them. I wouldn’t blame him for it. He’s got an ability that developed in humans recently and is classed as highly dangerous by the government even though an organisation that provided bodyguarding had a gravitational manipulation ability and had the ability user help protect members of the government before.”

“They only care about us when it helps them.”

“Yeah.”

The 28-year-old adult was walking through the festival area with two young teens, the girl 14 and the other 13. Although the teenagers were on the frozen river, he was walking along the pavement next to the riverbank as he spoke on the phone. The 13-year-old had short, two-tone hair: the right side of it white in colour and the left side black. Their eyes were different in colour, the right being blue and left being brown. They were wearing a light blue shirt with the top button undone, a dark blue leather jacket on top; a yellow scarf tied at the side. They had black ankle boots with silver buckles on the outside and short zips on the inside. They had black shorts that stopped just before their knees attached to black suspenders. Tucked under their arm, they held a doll. The girl had long, light brown hair tied back into ponytails and had dark blue eyes. She was wearing a pink and black dress with black trainers on with white ankle socks. They both had a pair of small pink bows in their hair. “Takeshi!” The 13-year-old called from where they were stood with the girl. “If you’re busy, can me and Luce just have your card to buy snacks?” The adult took a wallet from his pocket and handed his credit card to them while continuing to listen to the person on the other end of the phone. “Thank you!” They hopped back over to Lucy. “You got it, Kyu?”

“Yeah! I want some of the crepes, what do you want?” The two went over to the stalls, careful not to slip and fall on the ice. “I’ll be sure to inform the team, sir. Although, you handling this is a little surprising.”

“There’s going to be bloodshed. Don’t sound too surprised, Kajii.”

“Yours or someone else’s?”

“Possibly both, but that’s life.”

“Call me when he’s gone. I’ll give you some extra hands with transport.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

“Goodbye, sir.”

Looking over the port’s water, a male appearing 18 was stood atop the building roof. He was quite short for his age, only 160 cm. Their hair was ginger, with a longer section that would’ve fallen over his left shoulder if the wind wasn’t blowing it to the side. Another section of their hair blew across from the right side of their face. He had a black hat with a red hat band on, though it didn’t fly off in the wind, a red glow around the teenager and his clothing. They had a light green zip-up jacket over a light grey hoodie with black trousers and brown shoes. The jacket flapped around, and he had his hands inside the pockets on his hoodie. His clothes were slightly damaged, though not too badly. Above his collar, they wore a black chocker necklace, decorated with the occasional silver stud. His left ear had a silver stud in their earlobe, connected with a chain to a stud higher up his ear. They took their phone out of their pocket, leaving their left hand tucked inside. His hand had a black glove on it and his middle finger had a black ring with a white band around the centre on it. “They’re not using the normal team, you guys might want to sit this out.”

“We could still be in the area to take supplies from them.”

“We have enough to work with. I don’t want any of you getting injured so, I’m doing this one on my own.”

“What? You think you’re all high and mighty and can take them on by yourself?”

“When did I say anything along those lines, Sophie?” He tightened the grip around the phone. “They’ve got Kamui Nakamura waiting there, they’re ready for and expecting bloodshed. I don’t want any of you getting involved if it’s a certainty.”

“You’re the worst leader anyone could hope for.”

“What? For wanting to keep people who are barely adults alive so you can live some sort of life? Nakamura is a goddamn vessel for Afagai. That fucking god kept him and his brother alive until they found the Port Mafia and could’ve protected them from the group if they didn’t decide to join up. I don’t know what he can do with that thing, and I highly doubt that I’m going to get out of there without injury. I’m more experienced because I’ve been dealing with this bullshit likely for longer than I can remember since I doubt it was all fun and games before I turned seven. You’re all lucky enough to not have gotten that level of experience.” Glancing back at the phone, he noticed that Sophie had hung up. He’d been ranting to himself, though, that was nothing he wasn’t already used to. He didn’t even know why Sophie was angry at him. He tucked the phone back into his pocket and stepped back from the edge of the roof. With a running start, he jumped off the building and to the side of the one across the street. He stumbled and slid down the glass window slightly before regaining his balance. “Damn it, focus when you’re landing, will you?” He closed his eyes and took a breath, ignoring the stares from the people inside the building. He continued along to a building just before the docks at the harbour. Stepping off the roof of the building, they walked across the air and dropped down to the dock platform, near the boat. Right in front of the mafia executive.

“Hi.” The red glow around him faded as he stood up. “Hello. Am I right in presuming you’re still going by the name Chuuya Nakahara?”

“Course that bastard told you all. Don’t know why I thought he’d keep it to himself.”

“I’m quite surprised that you managed to get a name of the victim. We couldn’t find anything on the previous Nakahara.”

“Nakahara Chuuya, Japanese poet born 29th April 1907 by the name of Kashimura Chuuya. Died 22nd October 1937. He wrote more than 350 poems and translated many works of the French poet Arthur Rimbaud. He’s one of the many authors that Japanese members of the Silver Wolf took the name of including but not limited to Mori ‘Ōgai’ Rintarō, Akutagawa Ryūnosuke, Natsume Sōseki, Yoshimoto Takaaki, Tsushima Yūko, Edogawa Ranpo and more including some of which only part of the name was taken, such as Fukuzawa Yukichi, Ayatsuji Yukito, Kawakami Hiromi –”

“You can stop now.” Kamui glared at Chuuya. “I get where you’re going with this.”

“Where I’m going with this, is I didn’t need someone to spell it out for me. I knew and know more than you. I’m better than you with more experience.” They smirked as they spoke. “I’d stop this all, if I were you. Especially before a fight breaks out.”

“I’m afraid your threats fall on deaf ears.” Walking along the dock, Chuuya turned away from Kamui. “You really lose your intimidation factor when two executives leave the Port Mafia without a single scratch coming to them.”

“Big words coming from an 18-year-old.”

“You joined the Mafia five years ago, surely you know what I’ve done. It was only four, after all.” Chuuya smirked as he walked along to the boat. A red and black creature swung itself at Chuuya. As the shorter was flung through the air, it retracted to Kamui’s arm. Chuuya stood himself up and turned around again. In his eyes was a crack along the glass of his contacts. Part of one fell to the ground as a small amount of blood began dripping from Chuuya’s right eye. Behind the contacts were golden eyes with purple wisps dancing around them. “You little shit.”

Slowly, Chuuya walked back over to where he was originally stood. Kamui flicked his arm in front of him, the creature zipping towards Chuuya. The ginger bent to the side and took his right arm from their pocket. The second it touched the dock’s metal grid, he kicked his legs up and swung himself up on top of the beam connecting the head of the creature and Kamui. Quickly, he ran towards the mafioso. Kamui retracted his arm and Afagai. Chuuya jumped up before he lost his footing. While in the air, he spun around in a blur and kicked his leg out at Kamui. The back of their heel collided harshly with the executive’s head. Kamui was knocked to the side as Chuuya landed on the dock. The creature shot from Kamui’s back and extended to the ground, allowing him to flip back to his feet. Wiping blood from the side of his mouth, Kamui placed his hand on the dock in front of him. Chuuya jumped to the side and swung a kick at the metal pole that extended from where he was stood, a red spot visible underneath. Chuuya spun and kicked the pole towards Kamui, landing his foot in front of him as they re-balanced. A red shield appeared in front of Kamui; the pole bounced off it. “You rely on that thing way too much.” The shield turned into a spike and shot towards Chuuya. “And you don’t rely on your ability enough.” Chuuya swung a kick at the spike, shooting it back at Kamui. He was thrown backwards, and a cut was made through his jacket. Checking to make sure it hadn’t drawn blood, Kamui spoke up again. “Figured I should let you know that we’ve found the warehouse your little team is currently using. You know exactly what that means.” A streak of Chuuya’s hair turned to a dark purple colour. In the small section visible behind the contact lenses, the purple wisps widened and covered all of Chuuya’s eyes. “That’s new. Afagai.” Kamui’s eyes turned to a pure white, matching the tips of his hair, and the red and black creature grew out to cover his body like armour. Chuuya launched at Kamui. The creature shot up and threw Chuuya into the side of the boat. The ginger stumbled to their feet, more blood dripping down their cheek. They pushed off the boat and kicked out at Kamui, knocking the executive off the dock and into the water. The purple streak returned to the normal colour, along with Chuuya’s eyes. As Kamui resurfaced, he saw Chuuya stumbling away from the dock, having now picked up his hat. Blood had stained his hair and jacket.

~

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

Tag list, ask to be added or removed.

@the-wholesome-ranpo @doctor-sherlock-strange @raidahblossom @literally-whatareyouherefor @yeti-zeus @barest-of-bones @carbonated-table-spices

#writing #story

[inkofyoonkoo]

It's true I'm not really focusing on writing much lately, but every time I've five minutes for me, I go back to "I'm on the run". I'm already at 5k and there's still a lot to unfold in this new chapter -but since almost a month passed from the last update, here's an absolutely-not-edited snippet of the 9th part! 😊😊😊

P.S. I know I rarely say it, but thanks to whoever is sticking with me and patiently wait for me to post whatever my brain thinks is above decent and talks to me and THANK YOU!!! You’re a huge motivation, and you’re truly helping me to not give up -especially now that real life is quite stressful! THANK YOU ❤❤❤

You’ve always known them, all the little insecurities that made him doubt his own worth.

Once again, you’re being gentle and attentive to his vulnerabilities -even if he doesn’t deserve to be treated with so much care.

Jungkook waits for a follow-up that doesn't come, fingers curling around the gear-stick as he shifts gears. However, the silence you're giving him back is loud enough to make it clear that you won't utter a single word for the remaining time anymore -leaving him all alone to deal with the consequences.

Aware that only a bunch of minutes are left before your flat will appear in sight, Jungkook realizes that there are only two roads ahead of him now: 1) he can let this drive end in a deathly hush, wish you goodnight, and go back home while you’re still rummaging through your bag to search for your keys, in front of the entrance -alone; or 2) he can take courage four-handed, kick his cowardice away, and go straight to the point -blatantly asking you why you are mad at him when he finally decided to be in this whole mess with you.

Swinging between the line that divides the two choices, Jungkook knows that the second option would be for the best -it’ll hurt as hell, it’ll for sure increase the gap between the pair of you; but it’s necessary if he wants you to see him in a whole new light--no; no… It’s necessary because this is the right thing to do. 

But when he opens his mouth to exhale one, simple question that will drastically turn everything upside-down, words stick in his throat in a messy knot, pumping up only a squelched breath that makes him feel incredibly stupid.

Caught up in his own fears and doubts, for a very brief moment, he is tempted to cede to his own weak spot and listen to the tub-thumping voice that tells him to give up. To let you cool off at least for tonight, and come back to you within a couple of days, discussing how to act from now on with a clear mind. There's the high chance you'll lose completely every ounce of respect you have for him as a "man" (intended as an adult who takes his own responsibilities); but it's also true that this brief separation between you two will give him enough time to have a heart-to-heart chat to himself and put down the right words to tell you.

Like… Jungkook doesn't want to learn a prepackaged speech; he only wants to elaborate his thoughts in a way that won't put you down as a woman, with no misunderstanding...

Because he sucks when it comes to discussions -he really isn't cut for them.

Jungkook is the wrong word exhaled at the wrong moment (another feature of himself that he’d like to extirpate).

This has always been the main reason behind the end of his past relationships. He's never been good at communicating, sorting out his own emotions, labelling them correctly, and expressing his mood in an understandable way. And whenever he was backed into a corner, the cowardice crouched down waiting for him to make a false move, jumped at his throat, making him run away from an eventual quarrel. Until people got tired of him, confused his fear for disinterest, and decided to break off their story. Until love grew weaker, turning into the ghost of that radiant feeling that used to skyrocket him to heavens.

It happened with his friends; it happened with all his exes during high school, or college; it happened with Kyoko, too...

He always let people go, because it was easier to do so -no matter how much he cared about them.

But… Jungkook wants to patch up this crack between you two. Not only because Jimin is right (spending a week being pissed at each other would be hard to bear), but because he wants to work this out: keeping you in his life, in the way you want to stay, is way more important than himself and his own, egoistic desires.

Jungkook isn't a child anymore; he won't let you walk away so easily -not today... 

It's just, you know, an adult thing: fucking things up, admitting you're wrong when you commit a mistake, and be ready to find a proper solution to fix it. 

#not entirely satisfied of how it's turning out #but I know that if I don't keep going i'll never finish it! #hope it'll be worth the wait! #thanks to whoever is reading it ❤ #queue 🌜

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 269 “Wilk’s way of doing things”

So we’re finally dealing with a new chapter in which we can say...

...yeah, poor Wilk... as while yes, he was also responsible for his own downfall, what happened to him was surely terrible.

The first page is a quick summary of how the Ainu killed each over conveniently letting Wilk alive and not having him kill a single soul.

For start we can see Wilk is the only one who’s apparently without a rifle (his right hand looks empty at least). We can also see that the group split basically in two, a part is pro-Wilk (or, at least, let’s-not-kill-Wilk) and the other is let’s-murder-him-right-now.

So, Irenka (pro-Wilk) places himself in front of Wilk. He has a rifle but doesn’t seem to aim to shoot anyone, just to defend Wilk and calm things down.

Oskeporo (kill-Wilk) aims at them with his rifle and is knocked out by Mesira (pro-Wilk).

Ratci (kill-Wilk), who’s a friend of Oskeporo, aims his rifle at them.

Irenka gets shoot and, same as Tamai did, as he dies accidentally shoot and seems to hit Oskeporo who, fires as well.

At this point things are a bit hazy.

Siromakur, who seemed to be in the let’s- not-kill-Wilk team before (he was shown at Wilk’s side), is shown bleeding from a hole in his chest. Was he the one hit by Oskeporo. The guy is supported or used as a human shield by Sukuta. We see a knife in the image but that one is actually Siromaku’s if the  draws on the handle has to be believed. It’s clear Siromakur isn’t the one holding it as we can see both his arms so they probably took it from him.

The next image shows us Ratci firing, the knife in his belly.

The very last image shows Oskeporo and Sukuta on the ground, likely dead.

Yeah, there’s plenty of holes in this page who’s just meant to drive home Wilk didn’t kill anyone, the other Ainu just started shooting, some by purpose, some by accident, some in self defence.

Possibly Siromakur didn’t kill anyone either, I’m not sure.

The image is not really clear on what exactly happened because Noda wants to keep it secret some details for a little longer.

Anyway we see Ratci crawling away and, interesting enough, two more bullets being shoot behind him. He also hears something being said but we don’t get what it was.

The only Ainu of the rebels group that weren’t shown dying or being wounded to death was Mesira… but it’s hard to tell if he didn’t go shoot earlier since the images showed us so little.

We flash forward a little to Kikuta questioning a dying Ratci, asking him if Wilk was killed too and if others survived. Ratci dies before answering and the group then collects his body along with the heads of the other 6 Ainu, which were cut from their bodies. The total dead count is 7.

Usami wonders about who chopped their bodies since there should have been 7 Ainu and now their heads are all accounted for.

He tries to pick up Irenka’s head to see the head slip out of the skin which is something I expected. Usami figures out all the heads were skinned and the skins swapped around. He also notices the heads are missing eyes.

All this doesn’t faze Tsurumi in the slightest. He correctly figures one of those skinned head should have belonged to Kimuspu, which would mean that there were 8 Ainu.

We’ve a flashback in which Kimuspu is shown wounded and holding a rifle which means the group had keep him alive and he had taken part to the battle. That’s probably why we weren’t shown the full battle in the intro page, to hid he was involved as well.

Tsurumi, holding the head covered with Wilk’s skin in a Hamlet’s fashion, then easily sums up Wilk’s plan.

The Ainu were 8 and Wilk used Kimuspu (which nobody knew was among them) to fake his own death.

The eyes were then removed because Wilk’s eyes were distinctive.

He then seems to kiss Wilk’s skin… and I’m starting to think this might be where his affinity with Edogai was born.

We’re then shown the cover...

...and it’s an image we should be very familiar with as we saw it in chap 1 and used again when Inkarmat wanted to push fowward her Kiro culprit theory in chap 116.

The Ainu are on the ground and a man, Nopperabou, stand above them. Only this time we can see that the man standing above them is Wilk, not Kiro as Tsurumi told Inkarmat and, of course, despite surviving Wilk isn’t the one who did the killing.

Usami notices that people is coming, they’re the gold panners and the hunters who should have head the shoots during the night and are coming to check what happened.

Tsurumi split his forces, Usami is to go at the health resort facility at Noboribetsu (remember? The one in which Kikuta was) and call reinforcements while Kikuta remains there and secure the area. Tsurumi will instead pursue Wilk.

As Tsurumi leaves Usami notices Kikuta pensitive gaze. Kikuta is worried about Ariko. He wonders who will tell him the truth as he thinks Ariko will be upset to discover they were involved in his father’s death.

Usami says there’s no need to tell him as they merely told Ariko’s father about Wilk’s identity and it was the group of Ainu which tore itself apart.

Kikuta points out how their plan relied on sewing discord in the group...

...which yes, it’s true, although Tsurumi clearly didn’t want them to murder each other BEFORE confessing where the gold was. He was hoping to reach them before they all would die, this was a miscalculation on his part.

But this little scene traces a difference between Usami and Kikuta.

While Usami doesn’t really care about how this will affect others (namely Ariko) and doesn’t feel responsible for the consequences of their actions, Kikuta does.

Usami lives in denial of his own sins, where Kikuta looks straight at them, which matches with how he’s a man who told Sugimoto in hell they’ll be rolling the red carpet for him. Kikuta knows what he’s doing is wrong, Usami doesn’t even stop to think if it is, or if it can have consequences on the others.

The following scene shows Sugimoto and Shiraishi meeting up with Ariko (evidently they managed not to get discover despite their car crash… no idea how since they should have made noise worth checking… unless Nikaidou also has left his guard post?).

We also gets a panel of Kikuta looking down under the rain. No idea what he’s watching but he’s sure sad and, I bet, he’s thinking at Ariko.

The fact that he and Ariko are on the same page yet divided by the panel with Sugimoto and Shiraishi is meaningful.

There’s a tie between this two men… but there’s also something between them.

Meanwhile Tsurumi goes on in his narration.

He’s impressed by Wilk’s resolve to cut away his face. He figured Wilk, given the situation, expected to be labelled as the murderer and was worried of how this would affect Asirpa.

Thanks Tsurumi, after such a gruesome story, Asirpa really needed you to push on her the blame of her father’s actions. I get you want to manipulate her but this can also backfire because it proves Wilk’s actions were done out of love for her.

Anyway Tsurumi is just impressed by how Wilk not only came up with such plan but could also manage to carry it to execution quickly as cutting his own face off isn’t something a person would be able to do.

I agree and I would say it’s not just for the unbearable pain and the psychological trauma but also because it doesn’t seem that easy to do. I would expect a person to end up cutting a muscle or a blood vessel. But whatever, it’s a manga, and I’m not really an expert in skinned faces… and I like to remain as such, so let’s go on.

Tsurumi anyway thinks the plan was perfect if not for a detail, HE was the one chasing Wilk.

This isn’t said for a lack of modesty. Tsurumi just knew Wilk, he recognized his skinned face, he figured out his plan and, when he sees an Ainu with his face bandaged, he immediately recognizes him as Wilk due to the colour of his eyes. Another person, who had never met Wilk, might not have managed to do so.

Add to this that Wilk makes a mistake because he too recognizes Tsurumi (who back then looked a lot more like his younger self as he wasn’t disfigured yet), calling him ‘Hasegawa-san’ and giving away his identity.

Tsurumi doesn’t tell us what happened after.

There’s clearly a timeskip and then we’re shown Wilk escaping on the lake, Tsurumi shooting at him and causing Wilk to end in the water and the boat to sink.

Among the things that sank there was Kimuspu’s face, which Wilk has taken away. Tsurumi runs, trying to reach Wilk but Wilk, after discharging his Ainu clothes, is faster at reaching a prison lodge where convicts were kept illegally.

Wilk asks who’s the boss of the guards, who’s of course nothing else but ‘slave-convict-trader’ Inudou, who was of course abusing of his power to illegally use prisoners in that area as well.

Wilk tell them about the 7 dead Ainu and claims to be the one who know the location where those Ainu hid the gold.

As the 7th division couldn’t get around with the people ruling the prison the result is that the guards carry Wilk to the prison in secret and Wilk becomes Nopperabout.

Asirpa asks Sofia about Kiroranke and Sofia explains once he freed himself Kiro began to search for Kimuspu as well and, while doing so, he heard the commotion and ended up on the crime scene while the 7th division was carrying away the bodies of the Ainu. He saw Wilk’s head being carried away as well and crumbled on his knees, crying and mourning Wilk.

No matter how mad he was at Wilk for his own decision, back then Kiro was still his friend and cared for him. He even wondered if he would be able to understand him by starting his own family in Hokkaido.

However, once he was back from the Russo-Japanese war he hears the rumour that Kimuspu was among the Ainu corpses. An Ainu testified that due to him recognizing the tattoos on Kimuspu’s hands.

Due to this Kiro too starts piecing together things.

He believed the Ainu had let Kimuspu go once they gotten the location of the gold… but now that he knew they were 8 and only 7 bodies were found he believed one of them killed the other 7.

Hijikata coming to ask about Asirpa, the rumours about Nopperabou and the tattoo code… all lead Kiro to think that Wilk is Nopperabou… and, likely, that Wilk was the killer.

Kiro goes on saying despite having a family in Hokkaido he couldn’t arrive to the same conclusion as Wilk, he still believes that if the gold was used for the Far Eastern Federation this would protect the Hokkaido Ainu too.

Kiro thinks barricading themselves away was a pathetic way of thinking that would never allow them to win against Russia or Japan.

Tsurumi nods in agreement.

I’ll discuss my two cents in a while.

We’ve then a flashback in which Kiro gives the sign and Wilk is shoot and then we see Kiro’s expression.

His eyes… are void of light but not black, grey as he thinks that Wilk was a wolf within the pack who has grown weak and that therefore Kiro followed the “way of the wolves” Wilk admired and did Wilk the kindness of killing him. As he says so we see a flashback of Kiro, Wilk and Sofia drinking together and being happy, Kiro with his arm around Wilk and trying to get him to drink something and Wilk holding Kiro’s wrist.

Although Sofia is included so that they look a single unit, a single ‘body’, it’s clear the picture focuses more on Kiro and Wilk, in how they touch each other, in how their heads are close.

It’s not meant to be romantic, it’s meant to deliver how those two men were close, as close as two best friends could be in the past.

So okay, let’s go back.

I think I lost count of how many times I criticized Wilk’s plan, both the early one the ‘Far Eastern Federation’ and the new one the ‘Free Hokkaido only’ plan not because they’re wrong per se but because they’re horribly planned so this time I’ll spare you of them.

I’ll discuss a bit of the why Kiro, despite making a family in Hokkaido doesn’t just switches like Wilk.

The key is likely that Kiro, differently from Wilk, had no reason to switch.

Let’s go back a little. In the flashbacks located in Russia Wilk was presented like an idealist, his plan a beautiful utopia for which he was willing to bet his own life and the one of his teammates.

He has lost his village, likely his parents were already dead and he was on his own. Sure, he was friend with Kiro and later with Sofia but their attachment for them was, compared to his own goal, his own ideal, minor. He has devoted his life to that goal and that’s it.

And because no one is special in his eyes “All are equal” among the minorities.

That’s also what allows him to keep a cold, practical mind setting, that he doesn’t get deeply attached.

When he moved to Hokkaido he did a mistake.

Well, no, it’s not a real mistake, it’s just something that caused him to shift priorities.

He grew more attached to his wife and child than he was to his goal.

His priorities shifted and so he could sacrifice part of his goal for the benefit of his Hokkaido family, which he prioritized and, in sacrificing his goal, he accepted he could sacrifice all his Russian allies who had fought with him.

He wasn’t anymore ready to do everything he could to give ALL the minorities freedom.

He wanted to give freedom to his daughter’s minority, if the other minorities wanted to benefit of the freedom he planned to gain for the Hokkaido Ainu, they would have to come to compromise, give up their land, their customs. He would be still willing to help them but at his own conditions as they weren’t anymore part of his priorities.

It’s absolutely human… but it’s also a betrayal of the cause, of his ideal who used to held all the minorities as all EQUAL.

Now, “All are equal, but some are more equal than others.”

For Kiro instead the problem is different.

Kiro has built attachment for the Russian side, attachment that lies especially in Sofia but possibly he also had other companions he cared about. He couldn’t be as cold as Wilk, which means he was more emotionally involved in them.

In fact Kiro’s point as they argued was that “HOKKAIDO never had anything to do with them in the first place”, meaning deep down he prioritized the Russian minorities among whom he lived from childhood and fought together than Hokkaido in which he transferred only recently. He views Russia as his homeland, he views his people as the ones who live in Karafuto and in the Russian far east.

In a desperate attempt to understand Wilk he tries to build himself a home in Hokkaido… but it never worked. Contrary to what some part of the fandom thinks, Kiro NEVER sees himself as an Hokkaido Ainu, he sees his children as Hokkaido Ainu, he’s a Tartar with Karafuto blood from his grandmother side.

In short, marrying with an Ainu whom he loves and having children whom he loves helped him to INCLUDE Hokkaido in his priorities, not in demoting Russia from them.

Therefore, where Wilk started from an “All (minorities) are equal” and then moved to an “All (minorities) are equal, but some are more equal than others” Kiro did the opposite.

That’s why having an Hokkaido family doesn’t help him to embrace Wilk’s idea they should have prioritized Hokkaido but, if anything, pushes him to place Hokkaido and Russia on the same place.

He wants Sofia and Asirpa to join forces also because in this way they will become guarantors for both Russia and Hokkaido, they’ll protect the interests of both parties, of the countries he now both loves. And this too is a human view, same as Wilk’s was, even if it sits at the opposite extreme.

On a sidenote I wonder if the experience in which the Hokkaido Ainu slaughtered each other opened Wilk’s eyes and pushed him to realize that he’s an outsider, that he can’t hope he could just unite and lead them. But whatever, that’s just food for thoughts, it can be he escaped in that direction merely because it was the most convenient direction in which to escape for him and the speculations he was running in that way to bring the gold back to his Russian companions done by various cast members were just that, speculations.

Last but not least, Kiro’s reasoning as he killed Wilk.

We know that Kiro isn’t really that good at murdering people.

He can do it just fine in the heat of the battle or when he sees them as enemies (the Russian guards, the Russian soldiers) but not when he’s up close to them. He lacks Wilk’s coldness, which is what pushed him to hesitate when tossing the bomb to the emperor.

After all his weapon of choice, explosive, is a weapon that allows people to keep distance with their victims and it’s perfect for avoiding to get an empathic connection with them. Murdering people up close is a lot harder.

Although Inkarmat got in the way he didn’t mean to kill her and when she got stabbed by accident his first reaction was to try to help her, when Tanigaki let him know he was there to avenge Inkarmat he didn’t feel like finishing him off and he didn’t want Ogata to shoot Sugi.

Wilk though had betrayed them when he made clear he didn’t plan anymore to pursue their partisan group’s goal, circumstances paint him as the Ainu murderer and the fact he’s entrusting the gold to Hijikata, a Wajin, and Asirpa, Asirpa who has no idea about the other minorities, only worsen the picture.

Wilk, the NEW WILK who killed the OLD WILK and betrayed them, had to die.

It’s something Kiro likely knew Wilk had to die even before the Ainu incident, because partisans killed who betrayed them, yet he wasn’t ready to face, in fact, as soon as he believed Wilk died, he broke down and cried.

When it turned out Wilk instead survived, he could have been the one behind the Ainu murder and acted none the wiser by basically entrusting the gold to Hijikata, killing him for betrayal at that point was mandatory.

Yet the mental gimmick Kiro does to manage to condemn Wilk is interesting. Not only he has Ogata do the job but manages to persuade himself he’s doing Wilk a favour. The NEW WILK is a WEAK WILK and, according to Wilk’s ideas about ‘the way of the wolves’, the weak has to be killed.

Basically Kiro persuades himself he’s not hurting Wilk, he’s doing it an act of kindness according Wilk’s own mind setting (Kiro had no idea why Wilk was called as such but the volume version added a scene in which Wilk saw a lone wolf and talked with him and Hasegawa about ‘the way of the wolves’ so Kiro knew about it).

That’s probably why the image shows us a Kiro with no light in his eyes, a Kiro who’s blinding himself to the truth with a lie to cope with the guilt of killing his best friend otherwise he’ll probably break.

And this probably ties in with how, when their group was threatened by the Russian border guards, Kiro exposed himself to save the Orok and then called it ‘Kamuy Renkayne’, “thanks to the Gods”. What Kiro did is similar to what Sekiya was doing.

Before acting Kiro thought at how they murdered the Emperor, which is likely why they are held under fire but was also the moment in which Wilk, with an amazing coldness, grabbed the bomb and took care to correct Kiro’s mistake by placing the bomb in the royal coach. He likely gained Kiro’s loyalty with that act.

And by taking an amazing personal risk Kiro basically tested the will of the Gods to prove himself if he was right or wrong. If the Gods hadn’t spared him then his actions toward Wilk were wrong.

On a sidenote… it’s not a common occurrence for wolves to kill a weak wolf.

Normally they actually protect the weak in their pack by bringing them food and by defending them from larger predators because they’re like a big family, although they won’t hesitate to kill wolves that don’t belong to their pack, weak or not.

Wolves kill or drive out of the pack a silk or a weak or an old wolf only if they’re in conditions of great stress, for example if food is scarce.

Long story short, I’m more tempted to think the wolf Wilk saw as a child was killed not merely because he was weak but because he didn’t belong to the pack of wolves which found him.

Probably that wolf was kicked out by his own pack, trespassed into the area of another pack and was killed.

Anyway the irony is great and tragic.

We saw Wilk killing a member of his group due to ‘the way of the wolves’ mind setting and probably part of this mind setting is what made him cold when Hasegawa daughter and child were killed or when he left behind Sofia or now, that he decided only Hokkaido had to be saved… and yet this mind setting came back to bite him when his friend judged him through the same lens Wilk used to judge others.

His pack came back to him, only to get rid of him because he has grown weak in a perfect application of the contrappasso law.

Still, I’m sad for Asirpa. She didn’t deserve to see it.

But well, with this we likely have finished with the flashback for now… unless they’re going to include how the cat alliance formed, which I doubt as I expect Noda to save it for another time.

So, with the murder of the Ainu out of the way and all the tattooed convicts tracked down all that remains for the plot is to solve the code.

Oh well, we’ll see where this will lead us.

#Golden Kamuy #Asirpa #Sugimoto Saichi #Sofia #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Wilk #Kiroranke #Shiraishi Yoshitake #Kikuta Mokutarou #Usami Tokishige #Ariko Rikimatsu #Siromakur #Hijikata Toshizou #Golden Kamuy Ramblings and Theories #Ratci #Inudou Shirosuke #Oskeporo #Mesira #Irenka #Sukuta #Kimuspu

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet-chapter 16: everything’s fine

All chapters

chapter 15

I had just got done in Transfiguration and was headed to Snape's class for our lessons, yawning as I walked down the hallways passing all the students headed to lunch. I was dreadfully tired, I had only gotten 4 hours of sleep and was barely making it through the day. The only things on my mind being sleep and Severus. The conversation we had last night still burned in my mind. Thinking over and over again about him giving me his robes, talking to me, and giving me advice.

 It was such a special moment to me, and now I had to see him after all that and my feelings for him having grown. I didn't think it was possible to fall harder for someone practically overnight, but now I was sure I more than fancied him, It was definitely a whole crush now. A silly schoolgirl crush I should remind myself. I continued to the dungeons and waited for the last few kids to shuffle out of his room. It didn't take them long, kids seemed to hurry out of there as if they were being chased by a dementor or something. I knocked on the open door signaling my presence as I walked in. "Good afternoon Professor." I said smiling and walking over to his desk. He hummed a response and was writing something in a book. After about three minutes of silence he looked up at me, I had taken my seat now and was using my wand to mess around and levitate some of my books to pass the time, I smiled and then looked over and saw he was staring at me with a stern face and they all fell from the air onto my table. "Heh oops" I said, wincing and shrugging my shoulders. "Have you come to play around Ms. L/n or are you here to learn?" he questioned with his usual student voice. "I've come to learn, and it's Y/n!" I said flashing a sarcastic smile, to which he responded with a scowl.

   "For this lesson I'm gonna have you do some chores for me, I need to work and we can study in our evening classes." he said turning back to his book. I frowned realizing we weren't gonna be talking much and got up lazily walking over to him. "Ok, what'll it be? Cauldron cleaning? Potion organizing?" I said in a sarcastic but somewhat respectful tone. "Make yourself busy, I don't have time to look over what needs to be done." He responded as he continued to scribble in his book. I looked at it trying to see what it was, "What ya got there? Is it your diary?" I teased crossing my arms. He looked up at me with an unamused look, "Make. Yourself. Busy." he said sternly. I guess he wasn't in a fun mood today, and he was back to normal ol' Severus. A thought crossed my mind, what if he was being like this because of our conversation last night? And that's why he didn't want to talk to me. I fiddled with my fingers not walking away yet as I continued to ponder on the thought, I felt his eyes on me and I met mine with his. "Can I help you Ms. L/n?" he said clearly not wanting to deal with my antics. "Did I do something wrong? Is it because of last night?" I spat out internally slapping myself for letting my thoughts slip out. He stiffened a bit and his face flashed with an emotion I couldn't put my tongue on, and it was gone before I could guess. "I assure you Ms. L/n it doesn't concern you." I looked at him and he went back to writing, that was bullshit, it may not be about last night, but he definitely has some sort of issue with me. I walked away and walked around the room looking for stuff that needed to be done. There were a few dirty cauldrons so I scrubbed those, his storage closet was still organized from when I had last arranged it, and everything else looked clean enough.

   Hmm, make myself busy he says, I looked over to one of the bookshelves and noticed it was all out of whack, every book had a place, but they were not in any pattern. I figured I could sort them into alphabetical order and began doing so, he had many bookshelves so I figured it wouldn't hurt to just use magic to sort them. I began on the farthest shelf and thirty minutes later I was on the second to last one. Books floating in the air as I found proper places for each of them. I lifted one and noticed its beautiful exterior, it was a rose color and had an anatomical heart on the cover, it was labeled "Amor Promerendae." It was Latin I knew that much, but I didn't remember much Latin, my father had made my sister and I learn at least three languages, but I haven't practiced my Latin in years and I had given up on it,  I looked over at Severus and he wasn't paying me any attention. "Amor" I whispered to myself, well that was obviously love. Any one would guess that, I looked back at Severus and he was still glued to his writing. I walked over to his other shelves trying to find any sort of language dictionary but only found ones for Greek and French. "Sir?" I said looking over at him. "What Ms. L/n?" he said annoyed, "Do you happen to know what the Latin word P-prom-eren-dae? Means" I said, struggling to say it correctly. He looked up for a moment to think, "Earning, I believe" He said going back to work. I thanked him and looked at the book again. "Earning love" I whispered as I opened the book up. As I opened it a flower fell from its pages and to the floor, my eyes went wide and I quickly picked it up and turned my back to Severus to hide my finding. The flower looked like it had been in here for decades maybe. I began to flip through but just as I presumed it was all in Latin. I grabbed my wand off the shelf I had left it on and put it to the pages, I muttered a Translation spell they had taught me at Beauxbatons and the pages quickly turned to English. I flipped through the pages to make sure it worked and stopped when I saw handwriting in the margins of some of the pages. I was very scribbly and barely legible, but some phrases and sentences where underlined and circled, one note read, "failed" hmm strange I looked to the phrase it was written next to "This above all: to thine self be true" Whoever wrote in this must have been having a tough time they were unable to succeed in self love when they were in the process of earning someone else's.

Soon the bell rang starting me and I quickly used magic to put the books on the shelf and looked at Severus, he had gotten up and was writing lessons on the board. I looked at the book and used a shrinking spell and put it in my bra. Quickly walking to the front of the room and grabbing my bag and robes, "Thanks Professor see you in a bit!" I said quickly rushing out of his room not waiting for a response. I rushed to my dormitory and hid the book on the underside of Hera's cage. She stared at me as I did so, "Don't give me that look!" I said rushing back out and heading to DADA.I got in the class as soon as the bell rang and quickly sat down. Things with Harry and I were back to normal and it wasn't awkward any longer. "Good evening class! Today we will be doing something extra fun, so if you will all push the tables to the edges of the room and line up on each side of the room." I stood next to Harry and Ron stood across from us as everyone lined up. "Ok now whoever is across from you will be your partner. I shot a look to Harry and Ron, "No I call r-" I began but was cut off by the hideous professor, "Ahh Y/n I see you are the odd ball out once more I guess that leaves me to be your partner" he said smirking and walking to stand across from me. I shot Harry and look, and he just stifled a laugh.  "Today we will practice the rather simple shielding spell that we studied yesterday. Its incantation is simple, does anyone remember what it is?" "Protego!" one girl said batting her eyes at him. "Yes, very good! Now you will take turns casting light and non harmful spells at one another and using Protego to block them, it's important to be careful and take your time, we don't want to have any incidents." he said looking at me to which I just gave him a sarcastic grin as I folded my arms over my chest.

"Now spread out and begin whenever you are ready" murmurs between students filled the room as they talked with their partners and began practicing. I looked at Lockhart and he stood smiling at me. He raised his wand and I raised mine as well. "You first" he said and I shot him a smirk to which he dropped his smile for a second "Aqua Eructo" I said and water began to spur from the tip of my wand, it shot in his direction, but he thought fast and deflected it with the protection spell. He smiled tensely at me as I gave him a look, hoping he'd catch on, I wasn't going to mess around if he insisted on continuing to single me out. "Good" he said regain his composure, "My turn" he said we raised our wands and I prepared myself. "Vermillious!" he shouted, and red sparks shot from his wand, "Protego!" I said and successfully blocked them. How dare her, that was most certainly not a non harmful spell! It was considered a light dueling spell for that matter! We continued on for the next hour of class.

   The bell rang and this time I hung back as everyone left to confront Lockhart. "What did you think you were doing?" I said as he sat and leaned back into his chair smiling, "That was not an unharmful spell! If I had not blocked it I could have lost an eye!" I said, raising my voice. I had had it with this man. "Oh please Y/n I knew you could block it no problem!" he said, shrugging. "Not when I'm caught off guard by a spell that's dangerous!" he looked at me with dark eyes and stood up, "Ok, here," he quickly raised his wand and my eyes went wide, not ready for what he was going to send my way, out of defense before he could say anything I raised my wand, "Expelliarmus!" I shouted before he could say anything and sent him flying back over his desk. I cupped my mouth realizing what I'd just done, not that it didn't feel amazing. He quickly got up and gave me a dark look. "Professor I didn't mean to, it was out of defense I swear!" I spat out walking over to him. He didn't take his eyes off mine and hovered over me, "Oh thats, quite alright, Y/n. Just be careful, you never know the consequences of your actions." He said in a calm deep tone, it was frightening. "Now you better go, you don't want to be late." He said never taking his eyes off me as I grabbed my things and quickly sped out, mumbling to myself "What on earth does that mean?"

#snape x reader #snape imagine #severusnape #professor snape #snape #severus snape #severusimagine #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #Snape slowburn #slytherin #hogwarts

[ryqoshay]

OTP Ask Meme (Impatient Edition) NicoMaki

Yeah, I know the point of these things is to wait for followers to Ask questions from the list, but reading though this one got me thinking too much. And, as the title implies, I got impatient and wanted to answer them all. Right away.

Anyway, credit to @lonelypond​ for this version coming across my dash. Reblog that version if you want to do this thing correctly.

Also, just because I’ve already answered these here, I’ve expanded on some for various reasons and left others short if I believe the reasons are obvious. So if you still want to do the whole interactive thing, you can still ask for clarification or whatever.

And finally, there will be spoilers ahead for How to Handle a Nico, both scenes I’ve written and posted, as well as some that remain in my Notes and WIP Warehouse. I’ll try to remember to link to the chapters mentioned.

1. Who wakes up first?

Nico, so she can make breakfast for her Maki.

2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Maki. Usually because she studies or works later and/or longer hours. She is also not above pulling Nico back into bed when she comes to wake her.

3. Who takes longer getting ready?

Usually Nico.

4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?

Maki’s libido can pretty much always be counted on to at least exhaust Nico, if not both of them.

5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?

Depends on who had a rough day or week at work/school, though Maki may get bored and either watch Nico or fall asleep during overly sappy romance movies.

6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?

Either, depending on the stresses of the prior day.

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

Nico intentionally. Maki unintentionally.

8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?

They both are, though in different ways. This is depicted in Consolation Prize.

9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?

Maki, especially if she is in an unfamiliar place.

10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?

Both, though Maki only in retaliation for whatever teasing Nico may have done.

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?

Nico likes a proper presentation of her idol merch. Maki is too busy with other stuff to care about special organization.

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?

Nico.

13. Who points out a dog when they see one?

Either.

14. Who’s prone to road rage?

Maki, especially when she is trying to get to the hospital when called in at some odd hour, or trying to get home after a stressful day.

15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?

Nico gets cold easier. Warm socks help.

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?

Nico, partly out of habit from doing it with her siblings and partly as an excuse to offer to help Maki put it on. Depicted in Sunscreen.

17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?

Nico.

18. Who gets the window seat?

Nico. Maki traveled enough with her parents and is happy to let her girlfriend see the sights instead.

19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Nico intentionally. Maki unintentionally, usually.

20. What do they argue about the most?

I don’t believe anyone has been brave enough to track the data for this.

21. Who’s clumsier?

Maki, especially in the kitchen. Nico has her moments though.

22. Who texts more often?

Nico. With heavy emoji use. (I need to depict this more in HtHaN somehow)

23. Who is better with kids?

Nico. She was the primary caregiver for her siblings for many years after all.

24. Who’s the better cook?

Nico. See above.

25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?

Maki. Even after Nico labeled the containers.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?

Maki.

27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?

Nico. Maki isn’t allowed to cook without Nico’s supervision. However, this would be a rare occasion as Nico typically will prepare something ahead of when Maki is arriving home this late and leave it for her to reheat.

28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?

Maki, when she’s reheating whatever Nico made for her after arriving home late.

29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

Both.

30. Who likes doing the dishes?

Nico, though it would be more appropriate to say she doesn’t dislike it.

31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?

Nico loves her sweets. Maki loves her Nico.

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Nico is highly attentive to Maki’s preferences in food. Knowing what Maki likes in restaurants lets her know what she can make at home. And food is definitely one of the best ways to Maki’s heart.

33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?

Nico likes sundaes with lots of sugary toppings. She also likes trying new flavors and will often get multiple scoops of different flavors. Maki is fine with a single scoop cone.

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?

As often as their schedules allow. Maki likes quite dates like walks in a park or museum or sitting up on a hillside for stargazing. Nico likes shopping for outfits and idol merch, going to movies and bustling amusement parks. But both love watching the other enjoy their hobbies so they’re willing to go along with the other’s interests as well.

35. What do they smell when they smell Amortentia?

Nico smells her father’s aftershave, strawberries, and stewing tomatoes. Maki smells Nico’s special tomato curry, Nico’s shampoo, and the cinnamon sugar of the snickerdoodle cookies the Nishikino baker made for her to leave out for Santa.

Yes, two of Maki’s are directly related to Nico. What can I say? She’s addicted.

36. Which one is the secret snuggler?

Maki. The more tired or drunk she is, the clingier she gets.

37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?

Maki. Nico gets cold easier, so Maki is usually the one to offer her jacket.

38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?

Yes.

39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch?

Nico, because she is the only one who makes lunch for them both; Maki isn’t the type to do such a thing even if she were allowed to cook more. (Bonus: What does it say?) Usually the messages are simple affirmations of love, but she is not above getting snarky if the two had an argument recently.

40. Who is the most affectionate?

Nico in public. Maki in private.

41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Usually, Maki is the big spoon as she is quite fond of hugging her Nico like a teddy bear, though Nico will sometimes jetpack.

42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?

Maki loves Nico’s smile, particularly her genuine, unforced, non-idol persona smile. Nico loves Maki’s voice, specifically her singing voice.

43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Nico starts teasing Maki more, no longer to “put the spoiled rich girl in her place” but rather to see more of the adorable reactions. Maki actively tries to deny her feelings, even to, or perhaps especially to herself, falling back on established habits of insisting that she doesn’t have time to date, all the while quietly continuing to seek more time with Nico.

44. What are their nicknames for each other?

Both exclusively use -chan with the other.

45. Who worries the most? Over what?

Early on, both are worried about losing the other for different reasons. Nico is afraid that should a scandal occur that ruins her idol career, Maki may blame herself and leave. Maki fears that a busy schedule of studying in medical school followed by long hours at the hospital may turn away someone like Nico, whose attention seeking seems infinite. Later, as they settle into their relationship, their concerns turn to more stereotypical adult fears; traffic or transit accidents, sever illnesses, etc.

46. Who initiates kisses?

Nico in public. Maki in private.

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?

Nico, by accident, as depicted in Spoken.

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

Technically Maki in both cases, though with their friends, Nico was active in the chatroom, and with their mothers, Maki only beat Nico by maybe half an hour or so. These instances are depicted in Reconstructed Reunion and Telling Mama.

49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Both have busy schedules, even as early as the years immediately following high school, so spending time away from each other is quite commonplace. This still did not stop Maki from going through a bout of depression during Nico’s first tour as a professional idol, as depicted in Homesick and Homecoming. From then on, Maki starts a tradition of visiting Nico during longer tours so as to break up their time away a bit.

50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?

Nico, as the more romantic of the two. This isn’t to say Maki doesn’t value sentiment, she just has other ways of expressing it than being overwhelmed.

#NicoMaki #How to Handle a Nico

[hamliet]

I think your blog is one of the best out there. Maybe becuase of this , maybe because of your awesome takes... I find it hard being in the fandom. And I wanted to share this very unpopular opinion. The more it goes on the more I wonder : how did Enji turned into this? Most of all in fandom tends to justify touya because he’s the result of Enji’s abuse. However Enji isn’t a natural born abuser. I’ve read and saw plenty: he has not manias of control. He accept easily his wife to leave him (he wanted to build an house for her and since Shoto’s accident he hadn’t forced himself on her). He wanted an heir, true and he was more neglecting (which is a form of abuse). But many time were found evidences in studies neglecting parents have issues of their own. Which can be found in their original family and / or society (if no mental illnesses are implied).

This made me wonder. I love Japanese culture , novels and society. And one of the most recurrent theme , especially some decades ago, is the high pressure people are exposed. It was and sometimes still is a nichilist model in which you die or fly and sometime you can’t hope to Rise once again when you fail. For example the concept of “you need to go at a go prek to get in a good university and find a good job” is often depict and put to extreme in many media. This inspire even books in which families are up for anything to push their children and they are under great pressure. Since Enji seems a not so bad man per se, has no mental illnesses , the only thing left is his immense obsession that must come from something. And the fact that in society a man must be successful... I think here it is.

The fact he can’t express his feeling correctly for the most of MHA , neither he can’t read them at the point of being perceived “with no compassion at all” comply the stereotype of the father with way too high standard , this can’t come from nothing. It’s not hard unreasonable thinking he was most likely pressured as much when younger , and that broke him at some point (which is a recursive theme in many others novels). This doesn’t justify him, but it might explain why he ended up like this.

But while everyone seems to be able to... forgive dabi , justifying his doings becuase of how he was raised while condamning 100% Enji. However the lingering theme of my hero’s villains is that they aren’t a monster , they’re turned into one; and society played a huge role. I don’t stand for Enji’s actions (who would) but ultimately? If all villains were broken by society at some point (being AFO the only exception for now) why can’t be him too? Broken by a society that demands from heroes to be perfect , to never be weak, even through total desperation? Society even made a joke of all might who gave his life entirely and part of his organs for Japan. Rather than only condemning Enji for his doings , much like is doing with Dabi, the spotlight should be society again.

He did wrong. Terribly wrong. and now everyone is ready to crucify him. But how society taught him better ? How society perceive heroes as humans , how far they can be weak and fails and not be blamed? Like father , like son. Touya is the result of his family , I think it should be considerated Enji was the product of a corrupted society. Which never correct itself , never tries to change... they just discard heroes and villains alike just for not being “perfect”.

Hi! Aw, thank you for your kind words <3

So, I’ll break this down a bit, because I think this discussion needs a lot of nuance. I agree society affected Enji, but I don’t quite think that a victim of society is remotely comparable to being a victim of parental abuse.

To start with, I fundamentally disagree with the notion that abusers are born, and hence don’t buy that Enji is somehow different (or better) because he wasn’t born that way.

To note, I talking specifically about physical/emotional/spiritual domestic abuse, not about sexual abuse (and I don’t wanna talk about that because it’s not relevant here, so no one send me asks about it, thanks).

Abuse is a description of an action and its affects. I’ll quote @linkspooky’s meta on Hawks last week: abuser is not a bad word, it’s not just something that bad people do. It’s an unhealthy relationship dynamic that even good people, even sympathetic people can participate in. It’d be great if we could just do a genetic test and determine if someone is an abuser (actually it wouldn’t be great; it’d be dystopian and terrifying), but that’s not how people work.

However, “abuser” is seen as a bad word, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing (nuance/abuse is horrific and takes such a toll on people that I’m glad it is given serious weight in some respects, although imo it’s overemphasized in fandom places and underemphasized in real life) and I’m not getting into good/bad/pluses/minuses of linguistic connotations here.

Hence, I would actually categorize what Rei did to Shouto as abuse, and I do think the story indicates she was neglectful towards her other children. However, I have never labeled her an “abuser” because of the negative connotation as is clear she is not a repeat offender and Shouto doesn’t even blame her--he blames Enji, and I don’t think that’s an incorrect assessment either. It’s complicated. Abuse victims can be abusers at the same time as they are victims (ask many a kid of an abusive dad what their mom was like; at best if they didn’t intervene it’s usually neglectful and often people go no contact with both parents). People we love and care for can participate in abuse.

Mental illness is also complex in its relationship to abuse. Mentally ill people are far more likely to be victims of abuse than perpetrators, and  mental illness doesn’t make someone predisposed to being a bad person. Mental illness does affect how I see Rei’s actions, because she was clearly out of her mind at the moment she burned Shouto’s face; at the same time, mental illness doesn’t erase harm done even if the person can’t be held super culpable. Enji on the other hand was not mentally ill in the same way; he was able to think logically and separate right from wrong even within society (because society clearly still views beating your kids as bad).

It’s actually not really accurate to say that Endeavor didn’t try to control Rei and just let her go--he put her in the institution to keep her away from Shouto, which may have been motivated of course by trying to protect Shouto, but was more likely “trying to protect his masterpiece.” Rei instantly regretted what she had done; Enji didn’t show regret until after Kamino. Also, Shouto himself views it as taking their mother away, not as protecting him. In fact, he sees it as removing his protector and leaving him with just the abusive dad. Plus, Rei’s doctors probably wouldn’t have let him see her. So I absolutely do think Enji is a control freak.

For Enjii, there’s no indication of prior trauma besides just not getting what he wanted. But, as you say, I do think Enji was absolutely a product of society--culturally, though I’m not qualified to comment on that, and within the manga’s own framing of that culture. However, while Enji is a product of society, he is not framed with the child framing that is present around Touya; hence, why he’s not a victim in the same sense. He was an adult when he started doing bad things, capable of reason, as far as we know and there’s no indication this isn’t the case. He was ~20 when Dabi was born, so that means he was looking for a quirk marriage at the very latest by 19. That’s like starting your career as an administrative assistant and being pissed you’re not CEO like, a year after starting! That implies that he had a sense of entitlement at a very young age, entitled to the point of believing kids were not full people but instead extensions of himself to ignore, beat up, and cast aside as he pleased. Every aspect of Enji’s personality screams of toxic masculinity as well.

Also, almost every person who has ever done something wrong (and those who haven’t!) is a product of their environment as well as of their genetics, but I wouldn’t classify everyone as a victim--even though technically I suppose they would be, but the connotations are just not particularly fitting--and I wouldn’t call Enji one. Enji might be a product of society, but his kids are victims of a deliberate choice he had to be a terrible parent. Society sucks, but we don’t choose it and it doesn’t choose us in the same sense a parent chooses to treat their kids a particular way.  So, rather than saying Enji’s a victim of society, I think it’s more of society reaping what they’ve sown in terms of their #1 being revealed as a mass abuser; it’s karmic.

So to return to his character and Enji is also a representation of toxic masculinity--that is why for me personally, his crying this chapter  actually resonated. Like, I think it was well-framed in that his victims didn’t feel sorry for him and he cried before he knew they were coming, and while I get that people think he has no right to cry (as Rei and Natsuo said!). I see why people interpret that as manipulative, and while I absolutely think it was self-pitying, I also personally see it as human and realistic, and perhaps as a slight chipping away of the toxic masculinity that he embodies. We’ll see. I’m still no fan but that was the first moment in his redemption arc that struck me as sincere.

#Anonymous #abuse tw #endeavor

[gwendeeagain]

Kayano Kaede/Akari Yukimura is a character so full of wasted potential.

(Screencap taken from Manga Chapter 128)

This is probably the first manga panel that made me fall in love with Akari Yukimura. Look at her. She could have been amazing. 

(If you feel like reading an essay of a textpost on the injustice she was dealt, feel free to click more.)

(I’m probably rehashing things i’ve said previously so if you know me you’ve probably read bits and pieces of this post before but I’m in a Mood and I just want to say them again.)

Kayano Kaede is a very interesting concept. However, she’s generally a forgettable character. This is because of the lack of anticipation and buildup for her character so no one really expects anything or gets attached to her, and her as an individual does not seem to hold much appeal.

Kayano’s character was poorly handled from the start, in my opinion. She was marketed as one of the main characters - the RGB trio, along with Nagisa and Karma. She was clearly slated for this role from the get go, which makes it even sadder because of the lack of groundwork and buildup there could have been.  I would have preferred it if her backstory came about because of “shit, we forgot to give Kayano lines, let’s just slap tentacles on her and spin something insane out of it” because then you could explain the injustice.

(On the other hand, her two counterparts have pretty nicely-developed arcs that pretty much span the entire series but despite that, Kayano never gets the spotlight until the tail end of the narrative.)

This normally wouldn’t be a problem because many of the side characters in assclass are well-developed. Just to name a few, Sugino, Isogai, Nakamura - all not main characters, but over the course of the series we get a pretty good feel for their personality. We have fun with them and are invested in them. 

Pre-reveal Kayano Kaede, on the other hand, is boring. Even if you think she isn’t, she is. The only character traits I can name off the top of my head are that she likes pudding and hates big boobs, which, what? She has possibly the longest wiki page out of everyone and yet has the least personality. 

An argument for that is that Pre-reveal Kayano Kaede was an actress. She was meant to be incognito, to blend into the background until time comes to strike. So we can say she did her job well - too well, in fact, that to the audience she’s perfectly forgettable. Yeah, narrative wise, she did her job. But did it get us to like her? Not really. 

By the time that Kayano gains some traction during her reveal at the tail end of the series - ergo by the time she becomes an interesting character, everyone has spent the previous 120 chapters/1 and a half seasons laughing along and liking the other characters. We have all gotten our favorites by then. Sure, Kayano still piques our interest, but there’s really no real time for everyone to get attached and have her as a “favorite” before she’s immediately overshadowed by her sister’s background story arc and the subsequent Save/Kill civil war. 

I’ve seen posts where there were maybe a silhouette of a shadow of a tentacle in the background of what could have been 3 manga panels but let’s face it, this does not count as plot building or character development. It does not. There are no hints or throwaway lines you could reread and think “oooh damn”, no set-up, nothing. I don’t even think there was a callback to her being an exchange student/not being in Kunugigaoka prior to 3-E. 

Kayano’s proximity to Aguri is also of issue. There’s interest drummed up about Aguri right from the start as the “mysterious woman” that Koro-sensei reminisces about. That does fill us with interest and satisfaction once the puzzle pieces connect (who doesn’t like solving a puzzle?) but there’s none of that for Kayano’s reveal. The fact that Kayano’s arc was intersped with Aguri’s admittedly more developed backstory arc also portrayed Kayano as more of a “stepping stone” to get to Aguri. To “add insult to injury”, Aguri’s just more of an interesting character than her. She’s got more personality, her character interactions with Koro-sensei and Yanagisawa/Shiro are interesting. Compared to her, Kayano’s just more forgettable.

The lasting impression most people get from Kayano is her status as a love-interest to Nagisa. Pre-reveal Kayano Kaede is a bland and boring character. Post-reveal Kayano Kaede (after her brief bout of insanity) defaults back to that same boring personality, and it is explained off by saying “Kayano realized how liberating it was to be a good person and adopted her nice personality throughout the year into her new one” or something along those lines. That’s boring! Her character doesn’t seem to gain any development from that experience. There’s no character trait that we can look towards to distinguish pre-reveal Kayano from the “new Kayano”, other the fact that she now has a crush on Nagisa. That label as Nagisa’s potential love-interest goes onto be carried post-canon and to the timeskip, and that’s the lasting impression of her.

(That adds to why a lot of people don’t like her, because 1. her crush on Nagisa seems out of place, 2. Nagisa’s already shipped with a lot of people by this time, and canon disrupting that doesn’t have the best reception.)

Kayano’s character brings the narrative full circle by giving us some closure to whatever happened to the first teacher of 3-E and provides reasonable incentive for Koro-sensei to bring up his backstory. She as an individual does not hold much appeal. She doesn’t have a standalone arc like Itona or Isogai or Sugino to solidify her character as an individual. She’s just used to bridge the gap between two much more important parts of the narrative, making her seem far more insignificant in comparison.

(Speaking of Itona, I think I would have liked to see her interacting with Yanagisawa/Shiro a little bit more. It’s one of the little things they could have built up on, I think. At that point Shiro had still been a rather interesting and mysterious character - Kayano’s reveal preceded Shiro’s by a tiny bit of time. They did interact in one or two scenes with ambiguous lines if I remember correctly - but they were working together despite a mutual hatred because of a common enemy. There was a really cool dynamic that I wish we saw more of.)

Pre-canon Kayano Kaede was honestly very interesting. From what little we saw of her, we know that she had her suspicions about Yanagisawa/Shiro from the start (I think they stated her dealings with unscrupulous people in the media industry gave her experience). She swore a pledge for revenge and stuck to it for a whole year, stole chemicals and injected them into the damn back of her neck, and I’m sure she probably didn’t even fully understood what they did at the time. We also know she broke Principal Asano’s laptop right in front of him to get into 3-E, and really, who else can boast about having the guts to do that? There’s so much you could get from her character from just knowing she did these things, and in the end post-reveal her didn’t do her justice, I think.

Wow, I’ve typed a lot, HAHA. This took me longer than I expected. Kayano is mt favorite female character in assclass apart from Irina, I think. To conclude, I love her.

(Disclaimer: I haven’t read or watched canon content in a long time. I’m going off the open wiki page and my leftover memory/impressions, so if I’m interpreting something based of inaccurate information, feel free to let me know.)

#assclass #assassination classroom #kayano kaede #character analysis #akari yukimura #korosensei #gwentriestothink