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Umineko Liveblog: Thoughts/Theories [Episode 1 Chapter 11 Edition]

Umineko chapter 11 served, primarily, as a space to breathe after the high-intensity horror of chapter 10. Nobody died. Nothing drastic went down. It was a quiet chapter, built to encourage you to contemplate on everything that has happened and everything that is still to come.

That does not mean that nothing happened within chapter 11. Despite its toned-down vibe and pacing, plenty unfolded within this chapter to think on. New character developments, new mysteries, and new clues pointing towards the shape of the bigger overall picture.

So, today’s writeup will explore the following topics: Beatrice’s witch narrative as a conscious performance with a conscious audience, Genji’s suspicious proximity to everything that has happened thus far, Kinzo’s vanishing act, how horror and mystery relate to the Detective/Romantic dichotomy, the Ushiromiya hierarchy being the biggest obstacle to the truth, the magic circle and the elephant in the room, the salient conundrum brought up by the existence of a gun, and the relationship between common sense and magic.

Let’s go and rotate Rokkenjima in our minds for a little while and see what we can’t figure out.

1-11 is a bigger chapter with more components than you’d expect going in. The first thing I want to talk about, and the major element that overshadows most of this chapter (as is to be expected), is the witch narrative. For what is likely a whole bunch of reasons, someone is invested in inserting the shed murders, and every unpleasant thing that has gone down on Rokkenjima thus far, into the myth of Beatrice the Golden Witch.

For the purposes of this discussion, whether or not an actual Golden Witch is truly present during this sequence of events is irrelevant. What matters is that the suspicious parties on the island are fixedly returning everyone’s line of thought back to the occult as often as they can, generating a supernatural air through language and gestures rather than hard evidence. In other words, the Golden Witch is, at this stage at least, a complete and total performance.

Hideyoshi, our suspicious man of the hour, continues to very insistently call everything unsettling he sees “demonic”. He does not think about the clues, nor does he permit anybody else to think about the clues. The blood in the dining room is foul and scary and unexplainable, therefore everybody should leave before the demonic foulness follows them. This is, of course, despite the fact that up until the deaths started happening he firmly did not believe in the story of Beatrice one iota.

Not only this, but whenever there is information that cannot be easily verified, Hideyoshi affirms it as truth. Nobody except for Genji and Kanon have checked the phonelines and the radio. Hideyoshi states unquestioningly that they are all therefore stranded with no way of contacting the outside world until the typhoon passes. You could merely argue that Hideyoshi is foolishly trusting even where it’s unwise to do so, but there is an inherent and immediate contradiction in his behaviour: he is fully in on Eva’s schemes and subterfuge, and has worked with her to try and get one up on Krauss.

Why am I bringing Hideyoshi up specifically? One of his major character traits we’re introduced to right at the start of the story is that when he is engaging with the business world, Hideyoshi affects a Kansai accent. In other words, Hideyoshi constructs a performance to conjure the illusion of a man that “exists” in order to get what he wants through what he says and how he says it.

How much difference is there, really, between Hideyoshi’s pretend accent in business meetings, and Hideyoshi’s frantic panicking about witches and demons during crime scene investigations? It’s all performative. It’s all scripted. As always, Beatrice “exists”.

This can be seen further when you examine Maria’s actions during this chapter. She spends the bulk of it pointedly ignoring everyone in favour of watching cartoons on television. The performative fictional story on her screen interests her more than the legitimate tragedy unfolding around her. This is likely not some newly-seen quirk of Maria’s; she is actually normally rather astute and present in situations that are disturbing and upsetting. She engaged with Kumasawa’s tale of omens on the boat. She is aware of the dread that comes with her rose vanishing. She is present for her mother’s beating of her. These are all very real things with very real impacts on Maria. And yet, she doesn’t bat an eye at the very real and very grim tragedy until she gets to infodump about magic circles.

I do not necessarily think this is all conscious on Maria’s part, and is more a thematic point being expressed through Maria’s character than anything else. I think the salient connection between Hideyoshi’s business affect and his sudden insistence on the witch narrative and Maria treating the tragedy with the same level of interest as she would a cartoon all point towards the same thing: the occult witch side of things is an augmented fiction brought to life, a method-acting stageplay that must be acted out for a variety of reasons both known and unknown. Maria, the child who only likes what she likes, is bored by the theatrics right up until she gets to play her role. The rest is just set dressing. Noise to make you believe.

Of course, it’s worth pointing out that the people we see inviting the witch narrative into “existence” are actors in this fiction, rather than the director. Hideyoshi is acting on direction. Maria is not acting on direction, but she is responding to carefully selected stimuli. If we only stick with them, we will likely not get any closer to figuring out what’s actually going on with all this. What we need is to find out who is the author of the witch narrative. Who is the one writing Beatrice into “existence”?

There are possibilities, but nothing concrete yet. However, merely by positing the existence of a conscious author of this fiction, this also forces you to consider the other half of this equation: a fiction needs an audience. Somebody needs to be witnessing this piece of theatre. There is somebody that this writer wants to tell their story to. The author is obscured. The why is obscured. But perhaps the audience is not.

Of all the people on Rokkenjima, there is one who sticks out the most obviously: Battler. He has been removed from this family for over half a decade. He is only barely starting to reconnect with his relatives, most of whom he has a distant and inaccurate impression of based on a resentful memory. To an outsider who is not privy to the way Battler thinks, it would be the most natural thing in the world to assume he still harbours resentment or indifference towards the rest of the Ushiromiya family. In other words, of all the people on Rokkenjima, he is the least likely to be seriously affected by the murders going by this logic.

If you were crafting a supernatural murder mystery tinged with so much tragedy, wouldn’t someone like Battler be an ideal candidate on paper? If you’re making a detective story, you need a Detective to go along with it, or it’s all for nothing.

However, the above statement relies on assumptions that aren’t water-tight. We do not know if the orchestrator of the witch narrative is consciously crafting a mystery, or if it’s just a by-product of the supernatural horror. We also do not know what the narrator wants from their audience, exactly. How much of what Battler is doing is what the culprit intends for Battler to do? How on-track is the witch narrative?

To answer this, we need to consider perspective and genre, and the all-important Detective/Romantic dichotomy.

Luckily for us, there is a scene in this chapter that directly talks about this stuff. When Battler is on the brink of starting to buy into the witch narrative, he has a kind of psychic heart-to-heart with brain ghosts of Rudolf and Kyrie that motivate him to continue to deny the existence of a witch. Rudolf discusses the horror genre, landing on the conclusion that horror exists to fabricate sensations for humans to experience in order to liven up their dull lives. Kyrie discusses chessboard thinking again, highlighting that the deeper you go into a game, the easier it gets to read the opponent as the number of potential moves shrinks to its absolute minimum.

In combination, these two epiphanies bring Battler into a Detective’s mindset where he is more willing than ever to both solve the mystery and deny that the witch exists. Given that Battler has this moment of introspection as a result of the stimuli provided by the witch narrative, it makes it easy to argue in favour of the witch narrative constructing a Detective story.

If that were the case, then everything is being laid out in-universe like a solvable mystery, just as it is to an external reader of Umineko. Somebody on Rokkenjima is expected to examine this mystery with a clear head and solve it. Battler, if Battler is the intended audience, is expected to be the Detective, to cut through the illusions by design.

Where this theory falls apart, though, is that it contradicts the nature of every person capable of perpetuating the Beatrice myth and the witch narrative. Would Kanon, in his determined desperation, want to get caught out and have his chances at escaping his circumstances ruined? Would Kumasawa spend so much time setting the stage at the start, reinforcing the existence of Beatrice in Maria’s mind, for the explicit purpose of having Battler tear it to shreds? Would the letter and graffiti be produced in such excruciating detail just to be denied? Would Eva and Hideyoshi ever consent to acting in a way that makes their crimes not only noticeable, but completely discoverable?

The witch narrative as a Detective story theory fails to marry up with the human element. The horror is not a conscious construction designed for humans to revel in its falsehood to feel better about themselves, because the stakes are too high for anybody to produce a performance that contradictory.

So instead, let’s consider the counter-fact: the witch narrative as a Romantic story. Returning to Rudolf’s horror metaphor, he misses out the crucial aspect of the genre, which is the way that the existence, or “existence”, of the monsters happens when the human audience is exposed to enough narrative material that they themselves conjure their own version of the monster in their minds. The true horror of the genre comes when something sticks with you even after you finish the story, something you cannot rationally deny no matter how much logic you throw at it.

To fit the witch narrative through this Romantic-horror lens, the express purpose of creating the illusion is to get the audience to fully believe in the existence of the witch. No matter what logic, no matter what reasoning, even if you don’t like it, you still can’t doubt your way out of acknowledging it. Through an overloading assault of occult tropes, at least something is bound to stick.

And indeed, Battler wavers for just a moment. It is only after his moment that he flips the script, and would from now on be acting against the way that the originator of the witch narrative likely intended him to. If you’re making a Romantic story, you need your reader to approach it from a Romantic’s perspective. If your reader is set on hard-denying you Detective style, then that’s an irreparable wrench in your plans. Perhaps this is the case. Perhaps the author misjudged Battler’s character, and their scheme is going to come crashing down around them.

That said, what if that’s not entirely the case? What if Battler, no matter how much he leans into his mystery-solving logic, is still acting from the place of the Romantic? After all, he is not coldly and methodically approaching this mystery. Everything he does comes from a deeply emotive place, from an untold sympathy and compassion for his murdered family members. He is not approaching this entirely clear-headed and objective. He is furious that his loved ones have been taken from him. Love is the ruling emotion of the day, not curiosity.

Further than that, the nature of Battler’s epiphany contradicts its own conclusions. He reaches his new perspective by going into his mind and conjuring versions of Rudolf and Kyrie that impart on him the emotional truths he needs to feel validated in continuing to doubt. He does not rely on his own reasoning, on facts and logic, but the memories of his loved ones that are real enough to change his outlook. What is the difference between brain ghost Kyrie telling Battler to remember that the act of cornering is a mutual one so the truth is easier than ever to grasp, and “Beatrice” announcing her impeding and impossible revival through letters and graffiti and the terrified behaviour of deeply compromised individuals?

The emotional truths hinge around words issued by people that “exist”. Everybody involved is invested in having their story uncritically believed. The culprit needs the illusion of the witch to get away with their crimes unscathed. The story of Beatrice is a powerful obfuscation of the material truth, something so overpowering and scary that you can’t fully deny it no matter what you do. Through and through, the witch narrative is Romantic.

So, if Battler is a Romantic masquerading as a Detective, what will happen when he runs against something he can’t deny completely and unequivocally? One major crux of the witch narrative is that it allows a convenient excuse for you to put all the suspicion and doubt on somebody who isn’t a member of the Ushiromiya family. Believing in Beatrice is to uphold the innocence of every human being on Rokkenjima. For Battler, who deeply cares about his family despite having every means to not do so, at what point would the allure of the abdication of blame become too strong to resist?

In his own words, Rokkenjima entered a “different world” the minute the letter was read out. How much would you really want to leave that world when the deeper you go into it, the more painful it will be to leave? Six people are dead. If a witch didn’t do it, somebody Battler knows and cares about killed other people he knows and cares about.

If you follow this through, Battler’s “role” in the narrative is to question right up until it becomes too painful to do so. What value is a truth that can only harm you? If Battler was a Detective, he may be inclined to seek it out anyway. But Battler isn’t really a Detective, so would he really seek to tear down the illusion even knowing what it would cost? Either way, if someone assuming the role of Detective gives up, that solidifies the illusion and removes room for doubt stronger than anything any singular occult symbol could ever do.

Both the Detective and Romantic reads of the witch narrative are plausible and have basis in reality. Both have their gaping flaw, all of which hinge around understanding of the people involved in this story. If you take the Detective’s read, you must have therefore misunderstood the motive of every person linked to the crime. If you take the Romantic’s, you must have therefore misunderstood Battler.

Either way, the common theme is that there is somebody not being understood in this whole performance. The two easiest to reach interpretations condemn the actors and the audience, respectively. Neither scenario, however, touches on the role of the writer, the orchestrator in the shadows.

Who is this person, deciding to produce the witch narrative? What do they want? Why do they want it?

If you could, even a little, fill in the obfuscating negative space surrounding the person behind Beatrice, that might be the thing to set you on the path to uncovering the real truth. Neither Detective nor Romantic, but a secret third thing.

Of course, this line of thinking asks you to consider something outside of the common sense frameworks being built up by Umineko all around you. That the story’s internal logic can only get you so far, and that there’s something additional you need to perceive, or at least perceive the outline of, in order to make more headway.

I am talking about the deeper mysteries of the text of course, but I am also talking about magic.

There’ve been several explanations of the way magic functions within Umineko thus far: it’s a convenient lie to pave over an uncomfortable truth (if a witch made the gold appear with magic, then Kinzo did not acquire it in any kind of evil way), an expression of dreams and desire (to Maria, magic is the one thing that brings her joy), an obfuscating wedge that influences reality against everyone’s wishes (the letter inspires murder even though nobody actively believes in “Beatrice”, so is that not in itself an act of magic?). Above all else, magic is a creative force that can shape the material world from an immaterial stance.

In other words, magic by nature denies and defies common sense and the common sense systems inhabited by most people. Battler struggles with this frequently in this chapter; the witch narrative is neatly set up for him to buy into, but he keeps hesitating because every single part of it goes against common sense. In the physical world, witches cannot exist to instigate a violent summoning ritual. People can’t be killed in impossible and occult ways. Everything must have a mundane explanation. You can think your way out of any problem.

And yet. Battler said it himself. The minute that letter was read out, Rokkenjima entered into another world. Nothing has changed, yet everything has changed. Maria’s rose was there, and yet it was not. Beatrice “exists”.

In every case, the same thing happens. The imaginative rule of thought overrides critical logic. Magic happens when you cannot doubt. Like a good fiction, the illusion only works if you can suspend your disbelief enough to let it manifest. If you read a story with a pedantic frame of mind, picking apart at the very structural seams of the thing until meaning itself unravels, you destroy the magic root and stem.

For instance, I can destroy the illusion of Umineko myself right now. I am merely spending time looking at a collection of png images overlaid atop each other, accompanied by text and audio files. There is not a temporal continuity in this story; each “scene” is a disconnected fragment of information with no actual connective tissue between it and the next. The onus is on me to “believe” that the space between chapter 1 and chapter 2 proves the world of Rokkenjima to be “real”, even though in reality I am shown two disjointed moments – one where Battler (Battler himself being a collection of symbols I am choosing to buy into until it resembles a person in my consciousness) is screaming inside a plane (a loud voice recording plays alongside a drawing of a plane’s interior), and then another where Battler is in the airport on the other side.

The plane journey never existed in narrative, and yet it “exists” in my perception of the story. It becomes more real when the other characters discuss how Battler behaved on this flight. It becomes impossible to deny the plane journey illusion.

If I wanted to, I could still hold fast to the objective truth that the flight never took place, but I ultimately choose to buy into it anyway, because I want to believe in the structural integrity of Umineko. I want to read and engage with Umineko, so Umineko becomes real and engaging enough for me to do that. If you call this nebulous imaginative process “magic”, then magic therefore unequivocally exists, because without imagination/magic, there is no meaning-construction to be done.

Like fiction, like magic, the contradiction lies in the fact that in order to engage with a world, you must therefore suspend your common sense in order to grant it the fullest “existence” that you can. This is a very pedantic ontological point, I’m aware, but is not magic itself also a pedantic ontological point?

The important takeaway remains that too much “common sense”, too much reliance on logic, too much Detective, kills the magic dead. And unless you consciously choose to conjure it up again (such is the case when the reader of a story deconstructs it to language then reconstructs it to narrative) it will stay dead no matter how much the author/witch tries otherwise. Therefore, it’s in the best interest of the author/witch to keep their audience from denying their narrative. It would be bad for business if everyone became a skeptic.

Which is why it is very curious but also completely unsurprising that the narrative of Umineko itself is insistent on maintaining the illusion. Whenever Battler is not telling the story, we are constantly treated to passages and phrases that are all permutations of “it was impossible to figure out, so everybody stopped thinking”. Given that the reader’s instinct is to distrust a first-person narrator as unreliable, and Battler is the element of the story dedicated to denying the witch narrative, it is surely a little suspicious that the more “reliable” third-person narration likes to make a point of passively encouraging acceptance of the witch narrative in this way.

The most compelling evidence for the witch narrative only comes through the third person narration when Battler isn’t there to question or deny it. Battler doesn’t get to see the magic circle on the storehouse door. Battler doesn’t get to see the butterfly that haunted Shannon in her final moments. The only thing Battler gets to see is the letter being read out by Maria, the significance of which is impossible to deny even for him, even if he claims a witch had nothing to do with it. Everything that most strongly affirms the illusion of Beatrice is shown outside of Battler.

A cynical read would be to claim that this is proof the magic is bogus, because under Battler’s scrutiny it would all fall apart as the sham it really is. But as outlined earlier, magic is inexorably tied to the human capacity for imaginatively sequencing reality. If magic didn’t exist, then a whole bunch of other crucial things would also by definition not exist.

So the takeaway is that we are supposed to treat the signs of the witch narrative with gravitas and seriousness. The opening summary for episode one states that our goal here is to not think too hard about what happens and accept all that we see. This directive is not given to Battler or anybody else on Rokkenjima. This directive is given to us before we even start reading the story.

It is important that, at least for now, we accept the witch narrative as something to genuinely engage with, and not as an inconsistency to be torn apart. Destroying the illusion without gaining any understanding would defeat the purpose of whatever the narration is really trying to do – like I’ve discussed before, it is highly likely that the narrator of Umineko has a specific purpose and agenda in presenting this story the way it is presented. There is some kind of truth that needs to be reached, but that can only be reached by entertaining the witch narrative as being real.

Whatever the truth of Umineko is, it cannot be reached through common sense. It cannot be reached by outright denying magic. Even if the truth itself is not magic, a rejection of magic will keep you from it. We would be failing as readers if we were to, like Battler, automatically assume the magic is meaningless without a second thought. Just as within the story “Beatrice” needs the Ushiromiya family not to deny the witch narrative, so too does the narrator need the external audience outside of the story not to deny the witch narrative. We all need to remain at least partially convinced, because doubt is the death of a story, and too much doubt would not only tear apart the witch, but also Umineko itself. The illusion is important for everything to function as it should.

So let’s now turn our attention to one of the cornerstones of this generated narrative illusion: the magic circle. This piece of graffiti becomes a talking point as Hideyoshi and Nanjo bring it up to the rest of the family, in tandem with Battler puzzling over the purpose of using it to advertise the location of the bodies.

Once brought up, Hideyoshi and Nanjo describe the appearance of the magic circle to Maria, who confirms it as a legitimate occult symbol. Based only off their uncertain descriptions, Maria still manages to draw a perfect replica of what they saw, and then goes on to define its meaning: a sacrificial symbol to grant freedom from inescapable bonds.

Through this exchange, some facts about this magic circle can be established. Regardless of whatever was physically painted on the shutter door, the conceptual idea of the symbol is authentic and verifiable. Somebody has deliberately introduced the notion of this sacrificial circle, and made sure that legitimate information would be conveyed to Maria, who would then in turn grant it a sense of truth that nobody else could. It is a simple and powerful way of strengthening the witch narrative: after all, who would go to the lengths to produce such a perfect symbol if it didn’t have meaning?

What is worth pointing out, however, is that the message and purpose of this magic circle in no way fit with the other actions and motives of the “Beatrice” narrative. The letter and the actual killings indicate that the intended pattern is for everything to line up with the ritual established in the epitaph – these are the six chosen by the key to set the ball rolling on the Golden Witch’s resurrection. The magic circle should be irrelevant; by all measures, the six bodies themselves are where the power comes from. The first twilight makes no mention of a sigil, or that anything has to be done beyond the sacrifice of the six.

The magic circle is theatre, then. Its purpose is not truly occult, but instead to heighten a sense of belief in the occult. To somebody unfamiliar with the epitaph and its implications (which is almost certainly pretty much everybody there), the appearance of six mutilated bodies on their own would not induce any kind of supernatural paranoia. It would be a grisly and terrifying scene, but without the over-the-top iconography, the witch narrative would not manifest.

Like Battler surmises, the culprit wanted the circle to be seen. He lands on it being a flashy way to advertise the location of the corpses, which is true enough, but is likely only one part of the reason why. The purpose of the circle is to catch the attention of the oblivious, so that they are forced to acknowledge what is going on. This includes both the murders, and the narrative of the witch. Both these things need to happen in order for events to progress, for whatever reason. Battler considers that the circle may be a message intended for Kinzo’s eyes, but the opposite is most likely true. This circle was drawn for the benefit of everybody except for Kinzo.

And of course, if the circle is to be treated as a narrative entity, then it’s important to examine the storytellers. The ones who fill everybody in on the details of the circle are Nanjo and Hideyoshi. Hideyoshi at this point is pretty evidently entrenched in upholding the witch narrative, but it is also curious that Nanjo is one of the originators of information about the magic circle as well.

Throughout the story so far, I’ve kept flip-flopping on whether or not Nanjo is to be suspected, or if he is unfortunate enough to be incompetent at the worst possible time. What’s worth considering about Nanjo is that while he has performed suspect activities (confirming the details of the magic circle, encouraging everybody to stop looking at the crime scenes), he is not outright perpetuating the witch narrative in the way Hideyoshi has been. Nanjo never describes anything as demonic, as inexplicable. He just describes it in a matter of fact, albeit disturbed, manner.

Hideyoshi being in on the witch narrative makes sense. He is almost certainly embroiled in whatever went down when the six were actually killed. Nanjo occupies a weirder space. He very conveniently presents things in a way that would benefit the witch narrative without ever being an outright suspect himself. He has no connection to the inheritance dispute. He is not trapped in the desperate cycles of torment that the other servants are. He has not been seen to interact with any suspicious element in the story. He is just there. And yet. And yet.

That said, there is one suspicious thing Nanjo does do in this chapter, even if it is suspicious in a way that isn’t directly related to either the murders or the witch narrative. When the possible meanings of the magic circle are brought up, everybody’s attention turns to the iron cross situated front and centre. Nanjo is the one that brings up that the symbol is best known for its usage by an ancient religious order, which leads the others to latch onto that theory until Maria outlines the actual occult meaning of it.

What’s interesting here is that the other meaning associated with the iron cross goes unremarked upon. I don’t believe this is because that meaning is irrelevant in Umineko – in the previous chapter, the iron cross was distinctly described as looking “European” – so it is worth considering why this meaning is never brought up. Nanjo knows enough about the history of the iron cross to discuss its ancient religious meaning, but he doesn’t talk about its usage as a fascist icon?

Assuming Nanjo is aware of that meaning, and is not saying it, this would not be the first time that he has spoken over what should otherwise be an elephant in the room. Right at the start of the story, when discussing a will with Kinzo, Nanjo very overtly hinted towards Kinzo using a will as a means of confessing some kind of sin, being as explicit as he could be without directly stating whatever said sin is. Kinzo denied that he had any such skeletons in his closet, before pivoting to talking about his one regret being that he never saw Beatrice’s smile again. Nanjo, however, still firmly made it clear that he believed in the existence of some great sin in Kinzo’s past that needs absolution, something that Nanjo never directly says out loud.

How likely is it, then, that Kinzo’s sin and the deliberately unspoken-on western fascist iconography are linked? Nanjo has known Kinzo for years, enough that he is one of the very few people that the man actually trusts. Could it be that, whatever this sin of Kinzo’s is, that Nanjo is in some way complicit? That he can’t talk about it, because talking about it himself is to admit an involvement he would rather not have anyone know about? Nanjo is very good at being an unremarkable, inoffensive presence. Perhaps it is a practised front, a means of self-preservation in the face of whatever murky thing lies in the past.

As the magic circle hints at, everybody on Rokkenjima is confined by an inescapable obligation. What obligation holds Nanjo there? Unlike the family members and the servants, Nanjo is simply a physician. Nothing about him is personally bound to the Ushiromiya family. And yet he’s here, stuck same as the rest of them. What does Nanjo know? There has to be something, because of all the possible magic circles drawn, the one with this specific image was chosen. Somebody used this symbol to evoke that grim secret. Try as he likes to bury his head in the sand, I feel like sooner or later, this thing will come to light, either via confession or via the culprit forcing it out into the open.

I’ve already spoken on who I think is the best candidate to have produced this magic circle, and so far nothing has contradicted that theory. It still needs to be a person who has access to the occult knowledge who isn’t Kinzo, who had the means and opportunity to produce the circle. That still leaves the same two culprits as last time. Kanon by now is an established suspect, and there’s not much more I can say on him that I haven’t already said.

Instead, let’s turn our attention to the next most suspicious servant, who has a knack for being at the centre of a lot of bizarre and convenience coincidences. Let’s think about just how sus Genji really is.

I’ve already outlined in an earlier writeup how Genji makes the most sense to be an accomplice to Kanon if Kanon is the culprit. This time I’d like to examine how Genji’s actions in this chapter paint him as even more suspect.

The obvious thing to mention here is how easily Genji could get away with lying. In this chapter, Genji confirms to everybody that the phones and radio are down, leaving them with no way to contact the outside world. This claim is bolstered by Hideyoshi immediately reacting with utmost belief. Nobody else has any room or reason to doubt what Genji is saying. Genji says something, a person parroting the witch narrative reinforces it, and it becomes hard fact.

Meanwhile, not once have the phones and radio been inspected by anyone other than Genji. In this way, his claims are even flimsier than narrative evidence located in non-Battler POV segments. Whereas with those, we the reader get to see something, even if that something is not true, here we get nothing except for Genji’s word. Genji, who is the closest ally of Kinzo, and would know him and his quirks enough to justifiably have a passing understanding of occult concepts. Genji, who knows Beatrice. Genji, who is strong and competent despite his advanced age.

Genji, who is at the centre of a lot of convenient coincidences. The phones and radio are broken? Who is in the best position to sabotage these things. Krauss’s personal boat is out for repairs and thus unavailable on the exact date of the conference? Who is best positioned to arrange such a set of circumstances. The bodies are found in a location only a servant with a key could access? Well, I sure do wonder who fits best there. In chapter 10, it was said that searching for fingerprints on the storehouse door would be useless because Kanon and Genji’s prints would already be on there from opening it up. Genji is present for both the magic circle in the garden and the bloodstains outside Natsuhi’s room. Genji is the one that greets Eva and Hideyoshi at midnight after they return to the guesthouse. It is always Genji, always present.

When you give it even a moment of scrutiny, Genji is right at the heart of the witch narrative, moreso than even Kanon. It would be impossible to deny Genji’s involvement at this point no matter which way you slice it. There are too many instances of this happening to dismiss it as coincidence.

The only issue with trying to pin anything on Genji is that the question of why remains totally opaque. Genji has the means and opportunity to be a likely culprit, but why would he do that? All my other major suspects have a clear motive. Eva and Hideyoshi are either trying to save their own skin (if you want to be charitable) or gunning for the gold and the headship (if you want to be uncharitable). Kanon deeply loathes the Ushiromiya family and the way they’ve treated both him and Shannon and is acting from a place of desperation. Genji, however? Genji is in good standing with Kinzo. Genji has given no indication that he is either resentful of his position as a servant or interested in the gold. So what reason would Genji have for involving himself?

I’ve sketched it out before, but the only thing I can even vaguely think of is based on the way that Genji will say “I faithfully serve the master of the household”. This phrasing is interesting, because it can be taken to mean that Genji’s utmost loyalty is to whoever the head of the Ushiromiya household is, and not Kinzo specifically. Would this mean, then, that in a situation where Kinzo were to no longer act as the Ushiromiya head, Genji would switch allegiance to whoever took his place? If, say, Kanon were to find the discarded ring in the courtyard and use it to seal some letters, would that be enough for Kanon to become the new “master”?

If so, why would Genji act like this? He is one of three servants on Rokkenjima to refer to themselves as furniture, but unlike Shannon and Kanon, we are not ever shown any specific facet of abuse inflicted on Genji beyond the standard abuse inherent to being part of the servant class. Genji is the senior servant. He is Kinzo’s good friend. Natsuhi and Krauss distrust him, but they aren’t outright hostile to him. Nobody berates him. Nobody disrespects him. So why would this kind of blind servitude be a core part of his character?

The only thing I can think of to explain this in a way beyond “Genji is just like that”, is that Kinzo has indicated that the murders and the revival of the witch are only one half of his desired outcomes on the demon’s roulette. Kinzo’s understanding of magic is founded on the idea of getting a result with astronomically low odds in the face of infinitely more likely occurrences. With the epitaph, there are two outcomes: either thirteen people die and the witch is resurrected, or somebody solves the epitaph, finds the gold, and succeeds the headship. Both of these outcomes would be acceptable in Kinzo’s eyes.

Kinzo’s insurance for the murder part of the epitaph is well-outlined; he holes himself up in his study and waits for everyone else in his family to die so that he can meet Beatrice again at the end of it. What is less clear is his insurance for the succession part. It’s abundantly clear that he does not want his own relatives to solve the epitaph and claim the rewards (and there may be some contract word trickery where the fortune is safe if not in the hands of someone who is part of the Ushiromiya lineage) and has not so subtly pushed Kanon to think about solving the epitaph for himself.

I think my earlier theory that Kinzo is grooming the two young furniture servants to play specific roles in the epitaph ritual holds strongest here. Kanon solves the epitaph and becomes the new Ushiromiya head, thereby preserving Kinzo’s fortune in a way that keeps it out of the hands of his loathed offspring. Shannon, meanwhile, becomes a vessel for the Golden Witch’s spirit once the murders have finished. In Kinzo’s dream scenario, having Shannon and Kanon survive to the end would allow him to have his cake and eat it. Beatrice revives, and the fortune is preserved. Kanon and Shannon become the new Ushiromiya head and the new Golden Witch. The cycle repeats.

Of course, giving the headship to Kanon would be a risky bet. If even a single member of the Ushiromiya family survives, there is absolutely no way that Kanon would get a shred of anything. So the only way for this plan to work would be for either every single Ushiromiya to die, or for there to be some means of protecting Kanon’s status.

Genji deeply and fondly cares about Kinzo, enough that he can bring out a softer side to the man. If Kinzo were to frame this as a final request to an old friend, would Genji be likely to follow through with it? He cares about Kinzo, and he has a soft spot for Shannon and Kanon. I think it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine he’d be willing to protect these kids on his master’s say. Genji has nothing to gain, but also nothing to lose. He is prime suspect material without even trying.

And better than that, Genji’s suspicious position continues to fulfil his duty of upholding the Ushiromiya hierarchy. Both Battler and Eva say it themselves; the easiest conclusion for anybody to reach is that the murders are the work of a servant with a grudge against the family. When the typhoon ends and the survivors leave, this is almost assuredly the story that will reach the police’s ears, because it’s easier than having to examine the rotten foundation present in the Ushiromiya family members themselves.

The unspoken element of this whole murder mystery setup is the class dynamic at play. The two groups of people on the island consist of the extremely wealthy family members, and the put-upon and abused servants. Almost immediately the most suspicious members of the family leverage this class discrepancy to plant seeds of paranoia towards the servants, relying on the fact that it’ll be easier to condemn them than their own relatives.

When Eva discusses with Battler that the most likely culprit is a servant (even if the evidence does indicate that) she is setting in motion that dilemma. Who can Battler distrust more easily? His beloved aunt, or a servant? Who would he rather send to prison by pointing the finger come the morning?

Of course, Battler tries to shoot Eva down through chessboard logic, claiming that pinning it on a servant is too easy and too obvious, that it’s the expected move to make when taking on a family of paranoid rich people. The truth would naturally be more complex than that, so Battler tries to puzzle out what that more complex truth might be. However, the evidence still paints the picture that only a servant could have given Maria the letter, that only a servant could have set up the storehouse scenario. When those facts become impossible to deny, what happens then?

The petty “servants seeking revenge” narrative is just as much a brute-force obfuscation as the witch narrative. In the face of such atrocities, it is easier to hand all responsibility over to a witch, or to the lesser servants, than it is to consider that your own relatives are complicit. Without the witch narrative in place, the servant narrative would easily win out. The Ushiromiya family would close ranks. They would convince themselves only a servant could have done it, and they would all as one state that a servant did do it. No thinking needed. All you’d need is the reliance on your place in the class hierarchy. Any suspect family members are protected by everybody taking the easy road.

By all accounts, this series of murders should do nothing to disrupt the cycles of abuse and violence in the Ushiromiya family. The wealth and class violence should ensure that no matter what, they will get away consequence-free. So what could actually manage to put an end to this rotten cycle, then?

This is where the witch narrative would shine. You cannot believe in both the witch narrative and the servant narrative. Believing in the witch also means ceasing to suspect the servants by virtue of its very construction. And more than that, if you consider that the witch narrative is using the murders to force everyone to consider a deeper truth than tricks and culprits, a successful witch narrative may very well destroy the Ushiromiya structure once and for all.

If the magic circle’s alternative symbolism has weight, if the implicit meaning is true, then the witch narrative will drag to light the Ushiromiya family’s dirty secrets. Here, it does not matter if the individuals in the family believe or not. What matters is that the witch narrative is painting a picture of the fascist core at the heart of Rokkenjima. In that case, what happens when, after the murders, word gets out that the Ushiromiya family is brimming with rotten politics? What does it mean for the world to know that this successful family is sitting atop a pile of illegal, possibly fascist, gold? It would be a PR disaster for every company associated with the family, worse even than money troubles. The very structures upholding this family would be used against them and they would be powerless to stop it.

Given how intrinsically woven the witch narrative is into the fabric of the murders, there is no way they could even attempt to cover it up without it also looking like they’re trying to cover up the murders of their family members. If they tried to bury the second truth to the killings, it would only serve to paint them as the culprits. In a roundabout way, this is a more material manifestation of the believe the witch/deny the witch dilemma. If Eva denies the witch narrative, she is suspected as a culprit. If she attempts to cover up the occult presentation of the crimes, she becomes suspected as a culprit. It’s the same thing on two different levels. A top-down conundrum that forces the Ushiromiya family to play along with the story for their own good.

And here, at the intersection of Ushiromiya hierarchy and unsolvable mysteries, we get the latest problem to solve: Kinzo’s disappearance.

After returning from the storehouse terrified and traumatised, Eva and Natsuhi take it on themselves to make sure that Kinzo, the only person still unaccounted for, is alive and well. Natsuhi out of a sense of fear and duty, Eva out of a sense of wanting to be proven right. Some time later, they return to the parlour with the grim news that the Ushiromiya family head has disappeared.

This is immediately an intriguing problem. The last time we saw Kinzo was in the morning, shortly before the discovery of the bodies. He was in his study, present enough to have his bizarre heart-to-heart with Natsuhi. Beyond this change in character (that is not without precedent), there was nothing up with Kinzo in this scene that would even imply something like this would happen.

Natsuhi met with Kinzo in the study at around 08:00. Chapter 11 starts at 08:45. Assuming some wriggle room, this gives a window of maybe one hour tops within which Kinzo can vanish. Drilling further, you can assume the time that Kinzo disappeared was most likely when everybody was finding the bodies, leaving the mansion empty save for Maria and maybe Kumasawa. That window would likely be shorter, perhaps no longer than thirty minutes.

So. Somehow, Kinzo manages to disappear without a trace, unassisted, in a span of half an hour. A timespan that also just so happens to coincide with the discovery of the six corpses. It’s a very weird and very convoluted setup.

The first questions to ask are: where did Kinzo go? And is he still alive?

In terms of location, this can be narrowed down considerably. Kinzo obviously was not in the garden or storehouse because this is where everybody was during the timeframe of his disappearance. Natsuhi and the servants later performed a sweep of the entire mansion, confirming that he was not there either. His study remains empty, so he is not there, either. That is pretty much every known place on Rokkenjima ruled out.

Except for one: the Golden Land. Or the vault. Or wherever it is the ten tons of gold ingots are hidden. If Kinzo is anywhere, it is likely he is here. It’s an impossible place that nobody will think to look for until it’s too late, requiring an engagement with the witch narrative to even stand a chance of locating him. Why would he go here, when it’s been established that his study is the safest place to be during a series of murders?

If he left of his own volition, which seems likely given that nobody could have feasibly helped or forced him, we need to consider his last actions before disappearing: his conversation with Natsuhi. Could something about that interaction have prompted him to move? Perhaps the fact that Natsuhi, a marked sacrifice, survived the night shook his confidence. If something that small can go awry, perhaps the demon’s roulette isn’t as guaranteed as he’d like it to be. So by heading to the “Golden Land” ahead of time, it means that he cannot be “sent” there as part of the ritual. Also, unlike his study which can be opened from the outside by a key, the only way to even find the hiding place of the gold, let alone access it, is to solve a nigh-impossible riddle that nobody has any interest in.

Except if you think about it, even that is rife with contradiction. In order to reach the gold, you likely need to complete all the steps of the epitaph riddle. Doing so would likely render the riddle unsolvable for anybody else thinking of trying their hand at it, defeating the purpose of the demon’s roulette. For Kinzo’s magic to manifest, he needs two equally viable extreme outcomes to pit themselves against each other. Why would he eliminate the resisting force that would guarantee his miracle? Something doesn’t add up.

And more than that. When discussing his disappearance, it is made abundantly clear to the reader that this is an extremely weird thing for Kinzo to do no matter what. His updated character status all but states outright that him ever leaving his study is completely and wildly out of character for him. Natsuhi and the servants make it very clear that, for some reason, it should be “impossible” for Kinzo to leave his study. And yet he is gone regardless.

Why would it be impossible for Kinzo to leave? He is not physically sealed inside the study; there is a locking mechanism from the inside that he can use to come and go if he so wanted to. All his needs are in theory met inside the study, so it’s not likely he would want to go out and interact with his family, but impossible? That’s a strong word. How and why would Kinzo be trapped in his study, in a way that makes it apparent to those who know him best that he would never leave?

It gets weirder, though. In the flow of this same conversation, after highlighting how impossible it would be for Kinzo to leave the study, Natsuhi offers an alternative explanation: Kinzo, on a fickle whim, likely decided to go out for a walk. Ignoring how ridiculous that is as an excuse, there is the more pressing issue here. How can it be impossible for Kinzo to leave his study, and yet also equally likely that he would simply wander around oblivious to the ongoing crisis?

How can Kinzo be both trapped in his study, and also capable of roaming around the mansion? Why would Natsuhi say such a thing?

Really, when everybody is acting like this, it’s no surprise that Eva is this confident in her conspiracy theory. Speaking of which, let’s address the second question related to Kinzo: is he still alive as of his disappearance?

I am not sure. I think that, either way, we won’t see Kinzo again until we discover his corpse, but as to when that will happen is a mystery. Logic dictates that he can’t be dead yet, because nothing about him fits the criteria for the next twilight. One old man dying on his own does not constitute “the two who are close” in any possible way.

He could fit the criteria for any twilight after the second, but if he’s an intended sacrifice, why take him ahead of time? If you kill somebody for, say, the fourth twilight before the second has even happened, doesn’t that invalidate the sequence of the ritual and prevent Beatrice’s resurrection?

This might make sense if Kinzo was abducted by somebody with a vested interest in stopping the ritual (but again, nobody was around to take him), except that raises another contradiction. If the culprit didn’t want the ritual, why ensure the killings match the first twilight, and why go to all these lengths to fabricate the witch narrative? If something sticks out like this, the whole thing will unravel, and as we’ve already established, the culprit needs the witch narrative to succeed for any of this to work.

So if all that is the case, why did Kinzo disappear? What for?

If he was taken to be killed, who took him? Where is he? If you assume my earlier theory of Kinzo being in the room with the gold, the culprit keeping him there to kill him once again contradicts the witch narrative: if the epitaph gets solved, the murders stop. If a body is found in a place where you need to solve the epitaph to access, it completely shreds every drop of legitimacy that a witch could be present.

How, then, can you reconcile Kinzo’s disappearance with the witch narrative? There is one thing I can think of, but a lot of it relies on baseless conjecture inspired by one singular detail.

After searching the mansion for Kinzo, Natsuhi returns carrying a gun. She claims to have taken it from Kinzo’s personal collection as a precautionary measure. The existence of this rifle immediately solves one mystery, and creates one more.

The bodies in the storehouse had their faces mutilated in a way that wasn’t clear. There was no tool found that could have done that to them. A rifle like the one Kinzo has would very conveniently blast a hole in someone’s face, tearing it up in a way that matches what Battler saw. This strongly indicates that the culprit, or the person who set up the first twilight anyhow, has access to a gun.

If you assume this as truth, another problem immediately arises. The gun was kept in Kinzo’s personal collection. The location of this collection is not specified, but based on everything we know, this gun was almost assuredly kept inside Kinzo’s study. This means that, in order to create the first twilight, the culprit had to take the gun from Kinzo’s study and use it.

(As an aside, even if you figure that there is more than one gun at play, all guns are likely stored in the same place, so the issue is not with the number of guns, but the location of Kinzo’s collection).

The list of people who could have taken the gun from the study that night is incredibly small – only Genji has a key to the study, and only he and Kanon would stand a chance of being granted entry. Luckily, it is very likely that Genji and Kanon are involved in the crime, so this fact holds water.

What doesn’t hold water is what this implies. There is no way for anybody to enter Kinzo’s study without Kinzo knowing. If Genji and/or Kanon took the gun to mutilate the bodies, Kinzo would also therefore be aware about the first twilight at around midnight. How likely is it that Kinzo would let them take the gun without at least asking questions? A spiteful old man like him would almost certainly want to know who died, if only to make sure it adheres to the pattern of the epitaph if nothing else.

So in this scenario, the servants take the gun, mutilate the bodies, and then either return it to the study or keep it for themselves depending on if there’s more than one gun. Either way, this means Kinzo has full knowledge of what has gone down. One could even argue that this makes him an accomplice to some extent.

Under this scenario, it might make sense for Kinzo to disappear from the study. Since Kanon and Genji were preoccupied with the bodies, the only way for Kinzo to vanish is to leave the study himself. Except the most likely culprits chosen by the demon’s roulette are all people who wouldn’t dare harm Kinzo (Genji is honour-bound, Eva killing Kinzo would contradict her ambitions to be recognised by him), so it is not like he would need to flee the study for somewhere safer. Nobody suspicious would actively target Kinzo, with maybe the exception of Kanon. But Kanon almost certainly cannot act on his own, so that’s a moot point.

And more than that, would a Kinzo who is fully aware of what has gone down act the way he acted towards Natsuhi in their conversation? He adamantly refuses to leave his study, telling Natsuhi that he does not want to hear even a single word of the other siblings discussing the inheritance. Would he act like this if he knew every single sibling except for Eva was dead? The night before, Kinzo had given himself fully to Beatrice and the demon’s roulette, ceasing to care about trivialities like the inheritance and the conference. Why would he suddenly care about this again? Odds are that even if he doesn’t know who’s dead, he should know that even one murder would stop the inheritance talk dead in its tracks. So why would he say this?

If Kinzo knows anything, his conversation with Natsuhi makes no sense. He would not say that. Not if he knew people were dead. Not if his gun had been taken. Even if he didn’t clue Natsuhi in on any of this, he would have received evidence that the ritual is happening, so he should have been even more off the “ohhhh Beatriceeee” deep end than normal. Instead he acts as if none of this Beatrice murder stuff is happening at all.

The two scenarios are not compatible. Either Kinzo does not know about the murders, or there’s something up with his talk with Natsuhi.

If Kinzo knows nothing, how was his gun used in the first twilight? If he knows something, why did he act like he did towards Natsuhi? Both cannot be true. And yet they seemingly are.

We have to assume the gun was used to mutilate the bodies, because there is nothing else shown to us that makes sense. For the gun to be used, that means somebody was in Kinzo’s study past midnight in order to obtain said gun. We also have to assume that fact to be true.

This places the contradiction squarely within his conversation with Natsuhi, then. Luckily, there’s already a basis for something weird going on in this scene even without the tangled psychic knot of his disappearance to contend with. Halfway through the conversation, for no reason, Kinzo’s entire personality pulls a complete 180, going from bitter and hateful to reassuring and praising Natsuhi as a worthy member of the family.

Kinzo’s actions in the latter half of the conversation are discussed by the narrative as if he’d become a “different person”. More specifically, it’s as if Kinzo transformed into the exact person Natsuhi needed him to be at that exact time. He says exactly what Natsuhi needs to hear in order to have the strength to face the rest of the family. This runs counter to the established loathing and abuse of Natsuhi we have been told about by Kumasawa. One explanation would be that he now respects Natsuhi for surviving the first twilight, but this is incompatible with the notion that Kinzo knows nothing about what went down outside of his study. This again goes back into the incompatibility between the gun being used and Natsuhi being reassured.

How can you explain this away?

I have one way, but it’s an insane reach that I’m not confident in, and relies on a very specific reading of Umineko to work.

Previously, I’ve discussed the way that scenes Battler isn’t present for are more interested in conveying the Romantic’s emotional truth than the Detective’s logical truth. My prior example was how the occult symbols aren’t seen by Battler, so their importance lies more in the way that the people who do see them react. I also argued that this makes the physical details of those things hard to concretely pin down, to the point where whether or not they physically exist does not matter. I also argued something similar in chapter 9, with regards to the very weird and disconnected framing of Shannon’s scenes, that some truth was either being hidden from us or being fabricated in the presentation of that chapter.

I never wanted to outright say it, because I think it’s a leap, but for this to work I’m going to argue that non-Battler scenes are fully capable of outright lying to us about everything seen within them. This would mean that we can trust nothing that happens outside of Battler’s vision except for the feelings and emotions inspired by what supposedly happens.

Let’s re-examine Natsuhi’s conversation only focusing on the emotional trajectory. Natsuhi is stressed and dejected, overcome with insecurity. Throughout the scene she goes from this, to nervous, to despairing, to reassured, to confident. Natsuhi’s emotional journey is valid, because this lines up with the version of Natsuhi that takes charge that Battler gets to see. What I am instead arguing is that the means of Natsuhi reaching this emotional state are a total fabrication.

In plainer terms, this means her conversation with Kinzo did not actually happen. Perhaps she still conjured a version of Kinzo in her mind to reassure her, but this would be no different from Battler relying on the memories of Rudolf and Kyrie to reassure him. If you assume that the scene was Natsuhi performing some kind of self-soothing via brain ghost Kinzo, this opens up another opportunity: Kinzo has not been in his study since midnight.

Natsuhi is the only person to claim to have seen Kinzo since the previous night. Her claims cannot be verified. If you distrust Natsuhi, then you can expand the timeframe for Kinzo’s disappearance from half an hour to eight. The last time we saw Kinzo was in his study at the strike of midnight. The time before that was around 20:00 the previous night, when Shannon and Kanon tell Kinzo about Maria reading the letter. If you take that as the last “confirmed” sighting of Kinzo, then that extends the window even further to twelve hours. In that case, Kinzo could have been gone long before anybody came to take the gun the first time.

The problem with this, other than the fact it’s completely insane, is that by this logic, a good fifty percent of the story needs to be treated as a potential outright fabrication. If Kinzo wasn’t in the study when we were shown that he was there with Natsuhi, then that means that we can’t rely on the argument between the siblings as being what we think it is, on George and Shannon’s proposal not having happened totally differently from what was shown. Nothing that Battler didn’t see can be trusted if you accept even this one thing as possible.

So, if so much of the story can be explained away as a fabrication: why? Why have half the scenes outright lie to the reader? What does this tell us about the narrator? If the emotional truth is the only valid thing in a sea of lies, and we are expected to take these lies as genuine in order to parse the emotional truth, is that itself not a form of magic?

In the study in chapter 10, Ushiromiya Kinzo “exists”. George and Shannon’s romance “exists”. Natsuhi’s crisis of confidence “exists”. Beatrice “exists”. It’s all there, and all valid if we choose to believe it, but only if we choose to believe it. Tear at the seams of the illusion, and it all comes down. Doubt is the only thing that can kill a witch. Doubt is the only thing that can kill a story.

Umineko is a work of fiction, deliberately constructed and narrated by somebody for a specific purpose. Whatever it is, the narrator needs the reader to have utmost faith in the illusion of the fiction. So what if half the scenes are made up? Can’t the same be said about every part of Umineko? It’s all made up. It’s all a story. Why draw an arbitrary line at what kinds of fantasy-conjuring are acceptable? Battler’s POV is language and images same as the other narration. What gives his viewpoint more authenticity?

Like the earlier plane scene example, meaning is constructed by the reader. The audience of a story receives symbols, and uses those symbols to create a being that “exists” convincingly enough that they can step into another world. To put it another way, the goal of the witch narrative is to get a human to perform magic, and if you are performing magic this way, are you too not also a witch?

What is the point of fiction without meaning? Of emotion without belief? Even if he’s not physically present, does the brain ghost Kinzo not have as much of a valid impact on the world of the story as the absent flesh-and-blood man? Kinzo has not been present for the family conference at all, and yet his figure has been a guiding force dominating the psychology of everybody there. What is the difference between the argument in the parlour and Natsuhi’s moment in the study, save for the fact that one scene has a visualisation of Kinzo and the other doesn’t?

This is a story about magic and witches. The nature of magic is to create something that feels real enough to change the material world. Money, witches, fictions, ghosts. These are all things that everybody has bought into and produced in this story. Following this through, it means that everybody on Rokkenjima has the capacity to perform magic. Past the mystery, perhaps this is the purpose of the story, a Romantic’s truth that exposes how everybody has the capacity to change reality through changing its meaning. This does not answer the question of “how did Kinzo disappear”, but how much does that matter compared to his impact on the minds of the other characters? We already know he’ll turn up dead one way or another. What matters are the secrets he carries, the way he intersects with the narrative and his role in letting us access the deeper truths of this story. In comparison to that, the Detective logistics of a disappearance are mundane and boring.

Either that, or Kinzo actually has been dead all along, and everybody on the island is complicit in the coverup, and Eva was right about everything the whole time.

Or the gun was never in the study at all and this is all a deranged moot point. Such are the joys of rotating Umineko in your mind at such breakneck velocities. You never know which theory is more likely. Take your pick.

Let’s head to chapter 12 and see how the story progresses.

#umineko #umineko liveblog #long post #11.25k words long. you have been warned #umineko writeup

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carelesscatastrophe · 1 year

Text

New Beginnings (2)

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x F/Reader

CW: cussing, some angst, primal setting, mentions of nudity, Klaus likes the chase

Word Count: 2k

There were more of them. A medium-height blonde who inhabited magic you never thought was possible, a tall, elegant-looking man that had the best manners you had ever seen. The gorgeous blonde sister who always had a mischievous look in her eyes. Those are only just the people you had seen so far. Everybody else seemed nice, you supposed. You haven’t gotten any names yet, except for the man who locked you in his kingdom- Klaus. He has interrogated you twice in the last day, otherwise leaving you in a magically locked room. You told him the same story each time, growing more and more erratic. Your nerves were already high due to your impending break-every-bone-in-your-body nighttime festivity that would be coming whether you liked it or not. At least he had the decency to lock you into a nicely decorated bedroom, with an ensuite bathroom. Your prison could have been worse, you were sure.

You were anxiously biting on your fingernails, a habit you thought you had beaten. Clearly, your circumstances had an impact on your renewed habit. Caught in thought, it took you a second to realize that you were no longer alone in the bedroom. “I’ve told you everything! There is literally nothing else I can say or do that will change whatever thoughts you’ve concluded! Just get out!”, you nearly shouted. That was another thing, your body was frenzied with a wave of anger you had never felt before. “I am afraid that your outburst is unjust considered your company" the elegant man murmured. Shit. You thought it was Klaus. A pang of guilt hit you at your misdirected anger- but he was to blame too, wasn’t he? It’s not like he couldn’t have let you out of your magic prison if he wanted to. You chose to bite your tongue, the inevitable angry outburst just barely holding on to any means of sanity you had left. He continued in your absence of words, “I do apologize for my brother’s actions, but you must understand that he is just trying to protect his family.” Of course, here we go again with protecting the family. You weren’t a threat. “I could care less about harming you or anybody else in his family! All I care about is making it through the night when I turn and learning how to live my life as this new creature I never expected I would turn into!” You exclaimed, still profusely trying to declare your innocence to a family that has seemed to already made their opinions up about you.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain hybrid was listening to your conversation with his brother. It was simply a test to see if you would change your story in the slightest to somebody other than him. The conversation continued for a handful of minutes, and all the while he was listening in. You really did seem to be telling the truth. He was beginning to believe you may just be a new wolf with no ulterior motives after all. Deciding he was finished with listening in, he decided to go confront you himself. With ease, you saw him stroll into the room that you were standing in with his brother. “Elijah, do you mind if I have a minute with our guest?” Klaus asked, earning a nod from his brother. Guest, my ass. “More like a hostage.” You grumbled, giving the illusive man a glare. “Did Mummy and Papa wolf never teach you any manners, Little Wolf?” He chastised, returning the look that you were giving him. On him, however, it was far scarier. “I was adopted by a normal family, asshole.” There it was again, the anger you just couldn’t seem to keep a leash on. Within a second he was right in front of you, a rough grasp on your chin. You couldn’t look away from him if you tried. “I do not take disrespect well, but I will give you one and only one warning. The next time, I’ll rip your bloody heart from your chest.” His tone was calm, but it certainly had a bite that sent a chill down your spine. It looked like you both had tempers, which didn’t bode well for you. “Do you understand?” He all but growled, a dangerous look in his eyes. Clearing your throat, you tried to nod, “Yeah- yes, I understand.” You huffed, and his grip became just a little softer. “You’re free to go then.” And with that, he was gone, leaving no trace that he was there in the first place.

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The pricks of the twigs you were so graciously laying on is what brought you back into consciousness. You had shifted for the first time, and you remember that it was worse than you expected. Every bone in your body snapped and rearranged itself. The pain was excruciating. It was worse than anything you had ever felt, and then the pain was gone. Everything after that was hazy, but you remember running fast and far. You had no idea where you were now, and you were also showing a little more skin than you were used to. Okay, a lot more. Okay, fine, you were completely exposed to the elements. Standing up, you felt like you were learning how to walk again as you regained your composure. After scanning your surroundings, you followed the trail of mayhem you had left behind. Broken branches, a destroyed landscape around you. Clearly, at some point, you had a little tussle with a very aggressive tree. Great. Not only were you naked and alone, but you were a complete clown when in your wolf form. Not to mention you were lost. Luckily, it didn’t take you too terribly long to find a shred of clothes here and there, and then, your car. You’d never been so happy to see your shitty Toyota. As you drew closer, you noticed something that wasn’t supposed to be there. A dirty blonde hybrid was leaning oh so casually against your car. Now, this was a predicament. Holding your head high, you walked right past him to grab the massive sweatshirt you kept in your trunk. You were sure it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but that didn’t make you any less mortified. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You commented in a snappy tone while pulling the garment over your head. “I take it your first time wasn’t everything you’d ever dreamed of, little wolf?” He replied, not even acknowledging what you said. “Oh no, it was a dream. I love when my bones break. How did you even find me, anyways?” You asked, wondering if you had to worry about the hybrid being a murderer and a stalker. “The faster you come to realize that I know everything about everything that is going on in my town, the fewer questions you will have to ask.”

What kind of ominous response was that? The nerve of this man. “Whatever, if we’re done here…” You concluded, taking a step towards the driver's side door. Not a second later you were in that same annoying position he had you in a few days ago- him looming over you. The difference now, was that all you had on was a sweatshirt, you were backed up against your car, and you were in the middle of nowhere. Not that much of a difference, right? “Not so fast, little wolf. What’s the rush?” He drawled. God, what was with this guy? “Maybe I just don’t want to be around you longer than I have to?” You questioned. Jeez, where was all of this coming from? Oh right, not twelve hours ago your bones were snapping. You had every right to be annoyed. He tutted, something you certainly didn’t expect, but what you expected even less was for his body to pin you further against the door of your car. Now the handle was jabbing you in your side and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t the slightest bit uncomfortable. “Need I remind you that you are residing in my town, under my thumb. Let me also remind you of my warning, because you are awfully close to getting onto my bad side.” His breath fanned your ear, you hadn’t even realized how close he was. You knew he could feel- if not hear- how fast your heart was beating. If only he wasn’t so good-looking. If only he didn’t leak the toxicity you had always been addicted to in any guy you had ever fancied.

If only you weren’t an angry she-wolf who just went through something excruciating with no remaining patience, maybe you would have made the right move. It was like something else possessed you when you pushed him hard. A strength you didn’t have before albeit nothing near what strength you knew he possessed. He stumbled, not as far as you would have liked, but enough for you to turn on your heel and work on opening your car door. To him though, you were moving like molasses. Instead of being pressed on your back, you were now aggressively pushed into the metal of the door. “Fatal move, little wolf.” He chastised. You were in for it now, might as well fight for your life. Knocking your head back, you nailed him in his. Hard. It hurt you more than it hurt him, but it gave you just enough leeway to slip out from under him.

Fight or flight kicked in now, and if you had the chance to run, you were going to take it. You did. You ran in the direction you came, giving you a little bit of a head start. He almost thought it was cute, how naive you were for thinking that you could outrun him. The bastard hybrid. Wiping the blood from his nose and his rapidly healing split lip, he let out a laugh that almost made you stop dead in your tracks. Almost. You ran faster than you had in ages, all the while thin branches slicing into you. The pain was almost non-existent. A little sting with all of the adrenaline running through your body. “I can smell you…” He called out from somewhere behind you. Your heart was beating in your ears, you were going to die. He was the predator, and you were the prey. Running as a gazelle away from the wild hunter, you paused behind a thickly based tree to catch your breath. Even as a werewolf, you couldn’t have super stamina. Your mouth was metallic, and your head was beginning to pound. Taking a moment, you listened, but you couldn’t hear him. Maybe you had lost him.

Meanwhile, he saw exactly where you were positioned, like a wounded animal- a primal fear in your eyes. He could almost smell it. It wasn’t often he got to play death tag with a pretty wolf. The false sense of security he knew he was giving you delighted him. He always loved the chase. There it was, the drop in your shoulders, the time to pounce.

He caught you, you knew that much when it felt like a ton of bricks threw you into the tree. The snap you heard was bone or tree- though you couldn’t tell which. Your breath hitched when you dragged your eyes up to his. There was something more there than a game of survival. Something instinctual, something that felt like a fire in your bones. Your eyes snapped to his lips for just a second. Your heart was about to stop any minute, or at least that’s what it felt like. He fought the smirk that was struggling to break through his mask. When you lifted your chin defiantly, that was the straw that broke the camel's back. “And here, I thought you were a wolf, not a little minx.” He nearly whispered, his mouth awfully close to yours. Your hands moved up into his hair, “You thought wrong.”.

#klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson x reader #the originals #elijah mikaelson #the vampire diaries #niklaus mikaelson

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lokisprettygirl · 2 years

Text

Hear me now (Jotun Loki x Female reader AU) (18+)

Read chapter 27 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 28

Summary : You ease Bluey's insecurities in the best way you know how.

Warning: 18+ Smut, Sex, Freezer sex, it's happening you all, insecurities, self deprecation

Your eyes teared up as you heard his voice so weak and sad.

"Why would you say that?" You caressed the marks on his cheek and he smiled but he surely didn't reach his eyes.

"I just, why would you want this when you can have something better? Something more normal, more acceptable?" He looked at you and you just wrapped your arms around his neck, then you placed soft kisses to comfort him.

"I fell in love with you bluey, I fell in love with this, I didn't know if you could ever look like us and I never cared for it because it didn't matter. It never came to my mind" you placed your head down on his shoulder and caressed the marks that ran from his delts to his forearms.

"But you didn't know, now you do. Do you still want me like this instead of this?" He shifted back to his human form and your voice choked on a sob at the action. You got up from his lap and ran towards the bathroom. You wanted to comfort him, you didn't want him to hurt like this but how were you supposed to do it when his words cut you deeply. You loved him in his natural form, just the way he was born to be. He was beautiful, enigmatic, exotic and one of his kind, and that wasn't just because of his looks. It's just how you saw him, there was nobody else who could compete with him, not even his own human form.

He quickly got up and turned into his jotun form again when he realised his mistake.

"Darling I'm sorry" you heard his sad little voice on the other side, so you opened the door quickly to run into his arms. He lifted you off the floor while his arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

"I am sorry, I didn't want to upset you" he whispered softly as he placed soft kisses on your neck.

"I'm not upset bluey, I'm just hurt that you think that..that you in your natural state doesn't deserve to be loved or picked over everyone else because I would pick my Bluey over anything in this whole universe, and that's my truth even if you don't believe it now" he pulled away from you and got down on his knees, then he wrapped his arms around you tightly as he sobbed his heart out. You didn't stop him, you just knew that this insecurity that he had wasn't new, it was several years of build up so you just wanted him to let it all out.

"I believe you darling, I do believe you, I love you, I was just afraid that you'd want to see me like that more and less of me like this"

You dropped down on your knees as well and cupped his cheeks.

"I was thinking about something this morning. I really wanted to take you with me to Natasha's party. I didn't want to leave you alone here, I wanted you to join our friend's party but not once I thought of taking you there as anyone other than this, other than my Bluey, I pictured you there with me, I imagined holding hands and dancing with my blue handsome sexy god, not anybody else, I wasn't thinking about you looking different. I was only thinking about other people accepting you instead of wanting to hurt you or harm you"

He wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his head between the crook of your neck "You don't even know how beautiful you are to me Bluey, you accepted me just the way I was, never tried to change a thing about me. So is it really hard for you to believe that the woman you love might just want the same?" He shook his head as you said that. He does believe you, you're the only thing he believes in.

"Sorry, I am so sorry darling" he mumbled softly so you placed soft kisses on his neck again, that always calmed him down .

"Don't be baby, it's okay, I just want you to know how much you mean to me blu, you have been hurt before by Priscilla I know and I don't know what happened in your past but I know that you were made to feel this way. I'll never ever even think about–"

Before you could finish your sentence he kissed you, he didn't want to hurt you any further. He didn't mean to insinuate something, he should have known that his precious girl would never pick anyone over him, not even his more acceptable form.

You wanted to use all the fancy words, write the essays and poems to describe his beauty but you weren't capable of giving him such a gift, you just hoped that he knew what he meant to you and how much you loved him in all his godly glory.

"Are you feeling okay now?" You asked him softly and he nodded so you smiled.

"They let you off work early, didn't they? it's just 1 pm" he mumbled and you nodded.

"Thanks to the assjerk Tony stark I get to cuddle you and spend more time with you" he picked you up as you said that, making you giggle in response then he laid you down on the bed,

"Maybe I should take the work clothes off" he shook his head as you said that.

"Mmm if it was summer I'd get you all bare myself but I don't want you to freeze and I don't want you to move away so it's a no from me" you chuckled and snuggled into his chest while his fingers trailed over the side of your waist.

You wanted to take him to Bruce and Nat's engagement party but after the conversation you two just had, it didn't just feel right to ask him that.

Now that he knew how you felt about him and how you wanted to take him to the engagement party, he really had to think about what he would wear, he sneaked out of the bed, hoping you won't panic but just to be safe he wrote a note. He changed his form, went to Phil's, gave him a heart attack and then Phil took him to get something fit for an engagement party. When he came back you were still asleep and he smiled, he was glad because he really wanted to surprise you in the evening.

Around 6 you woke up and hugged him tightly as he was right next to you.

"Will you be okay here?" You asked him and he nodded. You got up as you had to leave in an hour. When you went to shower, he got himself dressed up. Phil got him a black t-shirt with a dark green blazer, and a fitted black trouser. He didn't have much time and he has never been to an engagement party before but he figured that Phil knew better.

When you came out your eyes widened, he had morphed into his human form, his hair was a curly mess but he was combing it. He looked really handsome you couldn't deny it, but what was he doing?

"Bluey?" He turned to look at you and smiled.

"It's Luke my darling, I am your date for the evening" your eyes teared up at the gesture. You walked closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck

"I do like your style Mister Luke umm?"

"Luke Laufeyson" he finished your sentence and you chuckled "And unfortunately I can't take credit for it, it's all Phil's doing"

"You went shopping?" You asked him and he nodded

"Don't worry darling, I want to do all those things that you mentioned. I want to go out with you and join our friends on such an auspicious day. The world is not ready for Bluey but it sure can be Luke right ? You accept me the way I am and that's enough for me" you hugged him tightly, his words soared your heart, you sighed as he caressed your back softly

"Besides I'm still the same bluey darling, your bluey" you pecked on his lips, it was different kissing him like this, but it was him and you did love his every form. He could turn into a giant worm and you'd still love him, you hated worms so that was something because no matter what shape he takes, your Bluey would be in there eager to give love.

"You are the best, remind me if someday I start acting as if I'm not the most blessed person on earth, wait no, not earth, whole realms, how many are there again?" You asked him and he smiled. He loves you so much. His little darling.

"Nine my sweetheart" he chuckled and you gasped. Nine realms, trillions of people and he chose you. Blessed indeed.

He didn't just shop for himself but also got a matching green dress for you, it was cold out there so he also put a long overcoat on you..

The party was at Bruce's house and at first Nat and Bruce seemed so confused but when you told them, they truly were mind blown. Nonetheless they were happy to have the whole gang together. You looked around and recognised some doctors from the facility. It was awkward but you tried to keep your focus on your man. He was a sight to behold even in this form but damn you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss his blue skin and red glowy eyes. You couldn't wait to get him home and shower him in three months worth of love, you were done taking it slow, it's been three days and you craved him desperately so you were going to feast on him tonight.

When you two got back home, he perceived your mood really well. The erotic caressing all the way back home, the flirting, the naughty whispers in his ears were enough of an indication.

You looked at him as you stood next to the freezer, his eyes seemed so soft, so full of love, as if it was hard for him to contain all those feelings he felt for you in those tiny irises.

You took off your heels slowly, then slid your coat down slowly. The cold air hit you suddenly, making you shiver. He walked closer to you and pressed you against the freezer while his lips clashed with yours. It made you burn and freeze simultaneously, he smothered you but also liberated you. He made you levitate as if you were in a beautiful vivid dream but at the same he kept your feet firmly planted on the ground closer to the reality. And for once your reality was much more beautiful than any dream could ever be.

"Bring him back" You cupped his cheeks and pulled away just to whisper between the kisses..

"Bring who?"

"Bluey, bring my Bluey back" you whispered again and you gasped as you felt his cold lips all of a sudden and his marks on your fingertips, he picked you off the floor and tried to lay you down on the bed but you stopped him.

"Not in here" you said so he looked at you confused, his eyes were wasted, his eyebrows raised as you climbed inside the freezer, trying to be as seductive as you could, then you laid down. He took his blazer off and you gave him the space to climb in and on top of you. You grabbed him by the round collar of the tshirt as you kissed him, you both needed this and it just felt right. You couldn't go one more night without quenching your thirst for him. You took his shirt off and he pulled down your panties hurriedly, then you helped him with the trousers and he flipped you around so he could unzip your dress. He didn't even take it off, he just pulled the straps down to let your breasts spill out of the confinement.

His cock rubbed against your wet soaking entrance and you both moaned in unison, it felt too much but then it didn't feel enough. You wanted more and you got it as he pushed his thick girth inside you in an one quick motion.

"Ohh bluey godd yess please yess" one of your hand grabbed the edge of the freezer while the other one wrapped around his neck caressing those ridges , he growled and purred all at once, then he placed his hand on yours and wrapped it around his back. He wanted all of you to be touching all of him, he didn't want anything to take that away from him.

His hips pumped in and out in a fast paced motion, the sound of his cock moving in and out filled your ears, your breaths collapsed on top of each other, you don't know how he did it but you were sure he used his magic to close the glass door of the freezer, he wasn't scared anymore, he'd willingly live in hel as long as he had you in there.

"Fuck darling I love you look at me I love you, yes I love you" he mumbled between the kisses that never stopped coming. That small compact space felt like heaven and you were being consumed by him. He was everywhere and he was all inside you. This was the best you have ever felt in your life and in that moment you just wished you could have frozen time in a bottle and make the world still so nothing would disrupt this paradise.

"I love you blu, I love you more than I ever thought I'd love anyone" you hands trailed down his back and you squeezed his ass, he pressed his head between your neck and got up on his knees.

His strong hands ripped the dress in half, the show of immaculate level of strength made you gush and bite on your lips, that was your man and he was absolutely perfect. His hands found your bosom and he gave it a small squeeze, the sound of your moans made him growl in your ears.

"I can feel you constricting me so firmly my love, suffocating every inch of me with your warmth. If that's how the death would come for me I'll take it..norns yes I'll take everything you'll give me" you pressed your fingers on his lips, you could feel him twitching inside you and you both were on the edge.

"Ohh Blu fill me fill me up with your seed please yess fill me now, I have starved for long enough" and how could he have not given you what you asked him for? He cried your name out as your walls gripped around him at the same time. It was beautiful. It was the most beautiful union you have ever known of. No cinema, no songs, no poetry could have compared to this one precious moment. He collapsed to your side, whatever space was left. His cock still sheathed in you, your breaths were heavy, you couldn't even see your ceiling anymore because the door was all foggy.

This is how you saw him the first time, in a small metal box, since the very first moment you just felt it in your heart that he was the one you have waited for all your life, that he was the reason it never worked out with anybody else. You never believed in soulmates. What does that even mean? But in that moment he truly felt like one, he felt like that missing part of you that you found because of a fateful stroke of luck.

Life was okay. It really was ..for now.

❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙❤️💙

@el-zef @pinestwinssimp @froggiecky @snigdha-14 @howdidurhammergrowchris @annoyingsweetsstranger @michelleleewise @123forgottherest @nada-duskwood @mcufan72 @xorpsbane @colifower @daddylokisqueen @juulle987 @asgardianprincess1050 @perhaps-just-june @lokisgoodgirl @athwna @eyesbluelikethetitanic @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @lokisninerealms @huntress-artemiss @justasecretwriter @emma-laufeyson @catalina712 @nixymarvelkins @disneyismyworldforever @multifandom-world8

#loki #loki x female reader #jotun loki x reader #jotun loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki x reader insert #loki x reader fic #loki x you #loki x reader angst #jotun loki fics #alternate universe

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anna1306 · 2 years

Note

Hello, can you please, please do a Dwayne tlb "if anybody were to kiss me, I would like that person to be you?".

Happy holidays, and thanks for your writing.

Prompts here

Saviour

Dwayne x Reader

The bar was loud. You weren't a fan of this kind of places, but still went here with your friend. It's not like you hated this, no, just... That wasn't your type of place. You preferred quiet cafes or walks with some snacks along the beach.

But your friend Jay asked to go out with him, so you agreed to it. And what a coincidence was to see Dwayne with his friends at one of the tables. He looked equally disinterested in what was going on around, so you exchanged understanding looks.

You both knew each other for a while. And strangely enough you both met on the Boardwalk. It was strange because both of you didn't particularly like noise and lot of drunken people. But his friends liked it and he couldn't leave them alone or else... The meaningful silence after his words made you giggle. You, on the other hand, just wanted to unwind a little bit, so you went to the lights, music and smell of alcohol, fire and sweets.

You were friends. At least you hoped that he considered you a friend, not just annoying person who always rant about things you don't like in books or anything like that. Dwayne liked talking about books, films, but more so he liked to listen you talking about your day or annoying student you met. You really hoped you didn't appear that annoying to him. As... Of course you fell in love with him. Come on, he was cute, hot, his voice was beautiful to say the least. More so, he listened, he supported you, he was kind to you. It was a man from the dream. And you weren't sure if there was really something or you were imagining things.

"Are you even listening?" Jay touched your hand, and you shivered, looking at him. You smiled apologetically.

"Sorry. Got lost in thoughts." You sighed and took a sip from your glass. You ordered one of several non-alcoholic drinks, as you weren't really a fan of drink yourself away. He scoffed.

"I can see that. But you came here with me, not that dude, so be a friend, pay some attention to me." He sounded a bit... Angry at you? No, not the right word. Pissed off would fit more.

"There's no need to be so cranky about that. He's just my friend, we waved to each other. I know that I came here with you." You took your hand out of his grip and rolled your eyes. Jay was quick to put his hand on top of yours once again.

"Sorry. Just... Stressful day and I thought that we both can relax here, you know? And suddenly you all concentrated on him and not me, so I acted out. Sorry, I didn't mean it." Jay looked at you almost sincerely and you believed him. Almost. Maybe it was hard day.

"Don't worry." You smiled and drank again from the glass. You thought something was off, but you couldn't pinpoint what exactly.

"You sure you don't want alcohol? There are tons of good choices here." He motioned to the bar behind the bartender, but you shook your head.

"No, I'm good. So, what did you tell me about that new movie?" It was better to just change the subject, than to explain to him that you don't like a felling of being drunk. Or telling him about your strange feelings on something being off. And especially about your thoughts on Dwayne, who could find himself anyone in this bar.

"Ah, that one... I thought we could go to movie if you would like. It's horror one, but I think you'll like it and besides I will be near you to calm you down if anything." Jay laughed, watching you. You shrugged.

"Why not, just... Let's go maybe on weekends." You offered. It was Tuesday, and he was too much sometimes, you wanted some days off from him.

You discussed this movie, the details of your next meeting and study overall. He was fine, just a little too much sometimes. You weren't against it, he had been your friend for couple years now. He was weird with his words or actions sometimes, but... Who wasn't?

Your thoughts became slower, as if you felt a bit tired. Strange, you didn't drink anything and still were a bit lightheaded. Jay leaned closer to you.

"You're alright?"

"A bit... Lightheaded, can't understand why." You smiled weakly and tried to sit more straight. Your head was spinning a bit, and your vision was blurred a little. Jay put a hand on your shoulder, helping you stand up. When did he stand up?

"Let's go and breath a bit, alright?" He lead you to the back exit, slowly and carefully. "There are a lot of lights in the front, you'll get worse." He reassured, answering your silent question. You looked at him tiredly, and your eyes slid to Dwayne. Was it your imagination or was he really frowning?..

You stumbled into the back alley and you stopped, putting a hand on the wall. Jay was close, maybe too close for your liking.

"Can you give me some... Room?" You asked quietly, weakly grabbing his shoulder. He scoffed, standing at the same spot.

"And what if you would fall down? No, I have to support you like a good friend." Jay stayed at the same place, almost locking you from the exit with his body. You sighed and turned to the noise of the street. It was too loud, but at least there was air.

"Let's go there, please..." You asked and made couple of steps, when Jay stopped you.

"There is noise, there is lights, you would feel worse, believe me." You furrowed your brows, trying to see his face more clearly. His actions made no sense to you.

"Why are you stopping me? I want to breath, there is some fresh air..."

"You don't need any of that, I will help you..." You didn't like the situation, but he was stronger than you right now.

"The hell is wrong with you?" Jay put his other hand on your waist, trying to keep you in standing position and pressed right to him.

"There is nothing wrong with me, but you... Oh, you are really blind." He scowled and in your blurred vision it looked bizzare and weird. Creepy even. "No matter how hard I try, you are still playing fucking hard-to get. Not today, sweety."

"You mixed something in my drink..." That explained your condition now. Your head was spinning, all you wanted to do - sit and do nothing and let that heaviness on your shoulders just be there. You weren't sure what would help you now. And all of this because of your so-called friend. "What a bitch you are..."

"How can you blame me really? You needed to see me more than a friend, and the only way for you to finally look at me and notice... Me! Not some garbage boy from the dumpster was this." He was angry, you could tell from his tone of voice. But that wasn't of your concern. If he wouldn't do anything to help you, you probably wouldn't be concerned at nothing at all ever again.

"Jay... Please... I can't really breathe." You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to keep him at least at an arm length.

"Oh stop it, it should just cloud your mind, not kill you." He rolled his eyes and pushed you into the wall, pressing himself into you and leaned closer to your face. You smelled alcohol and nearly held yourself from puking, it was overwhelming to your senses.

"They said they can't breathe." Something, or rather someone really strong tugged Jay from you. The next second you heard a loud crush sound. Without any support you fell down, but now it was even better, as noone pressed the air out of your lungs. Even though your vision was blurred, you saw black jacket with some wild cat.

"Dwayne..." You breathed out and smiled weakly. He threw a worried glance at you, but looked back at Jay pretty quickly. You saw him stepping up to your ex-friend, but didn't hear a thing he said to him. Only noticed how Jay's figure ran away at a very quick speed, as if he suddenly got scared. You felt cold palms against your flushed face and moaned quietly at pleasing contrast, slowly coming to your senses.

"Hush, princex, I'm here. Tell me, what are you feeling? What do you need, water, air?" You shook your head slowly and winced from the pain shooting through your temples.

"I don't know, really... Sorry for troubling you..." Dwayne scoffed at that and touched your forehead as if trying to understand how you feel and if there was any raising temperature.

"You didn't. I was worried he would do... Something to you." The brunette admitted and for a split second his grip on your face tightened.

"Like a kiss?"

"I guess worse than that. But... You can count kiss as one of the things he would do..." Dwayne shrugged and you let out a tired laugh. He was your safe place. The man you knew you could trust. He wouldn't do anything to you, especially something like this.

"Thanks... You know... If anybody were to kiss me, I would like that to be you..." You almost whispered that tiredly, not sure if he heard you or not. Your mind were slowly drifting away, the effect of that drug Jay gave you, getting stronger even if you felt better and not so sick like minutes ago. But by the looks of it, Dwayne wasn't gonna leave you alone, as you felt him taking you in his hands and standing up.

"I would like to talk about it with you, when you wake up." You smiled, snuggling into his chest. Yes, he was very strangely cold, and you felt very strong wind, that you hadn't felt in the streets ever, but it was alright. At least you could trust him. You were safe. And maybe. Just maybe. He was into you too. He didn't refuse to kiss you, after all.

The Lost Boys Taglist: @minafromasgard @starmullet @iloveslasher @twistedharper @ichorixm @promptsforstuff @collieflower215 @henhouse-horrors @smenny @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth

#tlb #thelostboys #thelostboys1987 #tlb1987 #tlb dwayne #dwayne x reader #the lost boys imagine #tlb imagine #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral

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doueegezh · 6 months

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Interaction with Kenjaku

One note to keep in mind when interacting with Kenjaku as the entity [ or also curse ] is that due to his inate power to swap bodies at will via a Binding Vow imposed on the host body: he has complete access to the body's memories, characteristics and quirks. Even if he does not immediately seem to use every little bit that he could need, he will acquire it over time and if he wants to use it. Aka: If one were to interact with my Kenjaku [ in any host body, but particularly when it comes to Getō Suguru ], he would use whatever he wants out of said body. Reactions to physical actions, to looks, to words, he would play anything that gives him an edge over someone, specifically when said edge is combined with emotions.

Reach encompasses the power of a former host body [ like demonstrated with Kaori Itadori's Antigravity System ( ch. 208 ) ] but the means to tap into its mannerisms and behaviours is far more entertaining for him in the long run, enough so that he willingly copies the speech pattern and correct words used prior that another person might recognise as 'the real deal' [ ch. 102 briefly shown with Mei Mei, and obviously shown with Satoru Gojo in ch. 90 ]. Even that, at least with his current possession of Getō Suguru's body, he does partially struggle to keep his own core 100% at the forefront of the happenings. [ ch. 91 in particular, when he comments that this is the first time in over 1000 years that a possessed 'corpse' reacts to outside influences. as well as ch. 134, where Kenjaku comments that he sounds a bit too much 'like him/Suguru' ].

He does see these instances as more of an amusing little side-effect than something he would truly be bothered by or worried about, being characterised as a trickster and a being that finds entertainment in the unknown.

So, to keep in mind: He will use anything that the body can give him to his advantage: powers, behaviour, voice, looks, memories, and relationships; while also being able to tap into former acquired lives seamlessly and as much as he wants to, being able to overwrite and use his former knowledge to, even without the 'proper shell', make someone believe that he is the person they once knew and make them believe his words over anybody else's, no matter how impossible it might appear [ ch. 191, 'infiltrating' the Kamo Clan and, even while using Suguru's body, being able to trick the members of the clan ].

That all being said, I will be rather careful if I do so, usually keeping it towards plotted instances, especially when it comes to people interacting with him in Suguru's body and whatever is plotted with other Suguru rpers beside me. I'm pretty open to anything, to be honest! If I'm allowed to use whatever is going on between a muse and a host-body that Kenjaku has acquired [ be it canonically or in plotting ], then I very much will use whatever is possible! He's only out for his means, he does not care about anything else but his own wishes and wants.

#★ [ ooc ]#★ [ about ] kenjaku #[ wanted to make that post for a while so here we are ]

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jeskoholic · 2 years

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A Little Piece of You Chapter 6: Picnics and Pine Trees

This is chapter 6 of an ongoing series. If you missed out on the previous entries, you can check my masterlist here.

---

For the next days after that night at Skylight, I never brought myself to talk often on the messaging group, at least not like how I used to do so. Before, I was really eager to check what was going on between my old and new friends and seeing how they interact on the group. However, these days I just can’t fathom how I would place myself into the conversation and blend in as if nothing happened. I could really not count out that little confession made by Soyeon, or even treat like it was something that was normal for the time being. It affected the way I talk to them, for sure.

I guess for now, I just didn’t want to think about it. The last time that we even talked was when I sent her a short, good night message before I went off to sleep at 2 AM.

Yoon Jae-in (2:48 AM): Good night, Soyeonnie. I got home and I’m tired. Let’s talk soon!

I was thinking too much of her words over and over again that I think I fell asleep when it was about 3:30 already. Her actions, coupled with her words, were too good to be true. For now the hardest thing to do was not to let it get to my head all at once. Things might happen and end up not the way I wanted to end up if I do that. I really didn’t fulfil my own promise of talking anytime soon.

I wanted to talk to her, but not THAT soon. Just to be clear.

I managed to keep my existence in pure incognito a day after that incident. It was easy to excuse my inactivity to the after-effects of the alcohol hitting me on the very next day. I was weak when it came to these kinds of things, after all. At least I was able to give myself an entire day of not even having to think of Soyeon or anybody else. In fact, I was so engrossed into my solitude that I barely touched my phone for the entire day, merely occupying myself by staying in the apartment and cleaning a bunch of the house’s rooms just as Joohyun-noona requested; maybe squeezing some minutes here and there to watch TV.

The Sunday morning was surprisingly cold, even after waking up quite a bit into the day already. My body clock is perhaps one of my most precious traits. Of course, it was natural to be hopeful that this would be the last time that I’d wake up late due to Skylight’s events. Sunlight started to peer through the windows of my room, illuminating my face just as I lay down on the surface of my double decker bed.

If I would summarize the design of my room into one word, then that would definitely be ‘compact’. It was not spacious by any means; in fact any average person on my age would deem it to be really small, but for me it was more than enough for what I intend to use it for. My bed was placed directly against the wall, right beside the window. It was this narrow double decker bed that was just wide enough for me to fit my body in. However, instead of having another bed below, I elected to trade it for workspace instead. My study table and additional shelves were all compacted under it and the place where I slept was actually above. The placing of the table facing against the wall granted me perfect access to the window beyond, shrouding a fair view of the outside world.

Just opposite the bed lay the entrance door to my room. Beside that was a large body mirror, and next to it was my closet. On the other side of the wall, I had another series of shelves and drawers to put whatever things were demanded for my university, as well as the by-products of my kit-building hobbies. That was perhaps the latest addition to this room, among other things that held posters of my favourite movies and bands I listen to. Thankfully, the place was bright in colour thanks to Joohyun-noona’s minimalist preferences, and so it was not that hard to decorate the place without worrying of making it over-crowded.

It looks tidy to me, personally. Joohyun-noona, however, always complains how messy it looked to her.

Anyway, it was a Sunday morning and the first thing I have to do was to take care of the garbage as per usual. I elected to blatantly ignore my phone this once, although I already had a huge hint that Soyeon or the other members of the group might already be messaging me. In my head, there’s no real reason to check on it unless it was absolutely necessary; the mind-set of a person who is yearning to rest his head for a while.

I went to the kitchen, got a breakfast prepared for myself, and went on off ahead to take the trash out onto the community bin. After that, there was still so much to do. I went back to my room and changed clothes before heading to the laundry shop nearby. It was just a couple of walks around town, and I always loved doing that because I had time to think to myself. That, coupled with the music I could keep in my ears, was perhaps one of the good reasons why I always looked forward to heading somewhere even if it was for chores.

Noona always teased my enthusiasm with regards to it. I don’t know how I could explain to her that it really makes me feel good.

I had no real idea how long it took for me to go to the laundry, wash our clothes, pay for the services and come back home with all our clothes ready to be worn again. It must be really long considering it was almost past noon when I came back home. Still, noona was nowhere to be found. It was expected; her line of work does not necessarily equate weekends with break times, so most of the time this was the scenario during the weekends. I wanted to eat something that was not in the fridge for the time-being too, as there was this sudden urge for cold noodles in the middle of the day. That in mind, I dropped the laundry back at the apartment and went out again, this time headed to the nearby convenience store to purchase and satisfy my sudden cravings.

---

I sat at the convenience store’s outdoor eating tables, the ones with huge umbrellas above them to serve as roofs, while I consumed my order of noodles. I gazed across the nearby pavement, watching as passers-by make their way on the busy city morning. It was so peaceful and tranquil; just how I like it. I really can’t see any reason for this day to turn out different than yesterday. At least I get to enjoy the weekend before tomorrow comes and—

BZZT

I fished my phone out of my pocket and immediately went to unlock it. I don’t know who would message me at this time of the day, but I got a good hint on which person it might be. I slid my finger towards the chat tab, and surprisingly instead of Soyeon’s portrait that popped up on the chat head; it was actually Kyungsoo’s. Curious, I moved to open it immediately and read his private message up front.

Doh Kyungsoo: Yo, Jae-in. We went off and planned hanging out for this afternoon, maybe the forest walk at Yeouido. Do you want to come over? I’ve pretty much invited everyone else, though as of the moment only Dawn and Soyeon agreed to head there. There’s a chance that Ningning would go as well. Are you good with that?

A hangout on a forest eco-park; I do love those. I never got asked to head to those places before as it was normally the other way around. I do want to go.

Plus, Kyungsoo said that Dawn was going. That’s a huge plus on its own already. Soyeon would be there as well, but whatever… I promised her that I won’t be awkward whatsoever. It’s really just the first meetings after things like that that really puts anxiety on myself… but I guess I could figure out this time whether she was serious with what she said on Skylight or not.

There’s no real reason to not go. I also don’t have anything to do this afternoon. I guess I’ll go.

Jae-in: Sure thing; I’ll go. What time would you guys be there?

Kyungsoo: Probably at 3 PM. Just be there a bit earlier I guess.

Jae-in: See you there then!

---

Authornim: Just a short disclaimer, I’ve never been to Seoul so any place I put here would be fictional, and perhaps I’d ‘borrow’ some of the real-world names of places just to add to the ‘atmosphere’ of the story. For the sake of fiction and story consistency, just roll with it.

---

Right out on the mountainous outskirts of the city lay a forested reserve area, maintained by the government and served as a hilly inside eco-park amidst the huge city-borne country club. It was a place where nature perfectly blends in with urbanization, complete with the paved roads forming winding paths around huge populations of pine trees. The main park, however, was right in the heart of the hilly country-club; a series of road-side picnic tables in the middle of the maintained forest. It served as a huge place of Zen and peace considering that part of the country club was not a busy road, and therefore a perfect place to spend time with friends; exactly the reason why Kyungsoo picked the place to bond.

A couple of minutes after 3 PM and it was the figures of Shinwon, Kyungsoo and Jae-in that approached the waiting table just under a sloped entrance road above. Nearby was an empty mini-children’s park with an empty slide, see-saw and a pair of swings dancing softly in the lazy afternoon wind.

“It’s so unusual for you to be here this early, Shinwon,” Kyungsoo said as he approached the table first, dusting off a couple of dried pine needles that fell on the surface. “You’re usually the one we’re waiting for, and now we’re waiting for three people who were supposed to be earlier than us.”

He then turned towards Jae-in, who was placing the bag of foods on the table.

“Well, maybe not earlier than Jae-in, but you get the point.”

“’Three’…? I thought we were just waiting for Dawn and Soyeon. Who else is coming?”

“Ningning… she agreed to go on the last second.”

“Ningning…? Kyungsoo, you know that this is a special reserve, right? With how ridiculous Ning’s laugh is, we might get shooed out of here by the trees!”

“Kyungsoo,” Jae-in interrupted as he sat down on one of the benches while he raised a bag of chips for them to see. “Do you mind if I open this beforehand? I’m actually craving for a snack.”

“Go ahead man; there’s plenty enough for the rest of us,” he replied, sitting down as well and in turn ignoring Shinwon entirely.

“Good idea, Jae-in; make sure to give me some of that shit,” added Shinwon.

Kyungsoo checked his phone just as Jae-in handed Shinwon a stack of chips for him to eat.

“Where on earth is Dawn? I thought he said that he’s going… and now nobody knows where he is.”

“He knows we’re at the eco-park; I made sure to tell him myself,” informed Shinwon. “I don’t know why he’s not replying in any sort of form, but trust me when he said he’ll go he’s going to show up.”

Jae-in was about to throw another question, this time about the girl from Skylight’s night, Yeri, when his attention was caught with a cab traversing the lonely cab from below. Through the sharp corners of the paved road it exited, pulling over directly on the foot of the hilly landscape. Shinwon and Kyungsoo were equally occupied with it, and Jae-in that maybe they also had an idea of who’s in the cab like he thought. A couple of seconds passed and two passengers went off from the cab and even with the distance between them, Jae-in could easily tell the newcomers just by their figures alone.

As how they arrived back at University’s main gate two days ago, Jeon Soyeon and Ning Yi Zhou exited the cab with each of them holding paper bags on their hands. Soyeon was dressed in a tight top that hugged the petite frame of her upper body while exposing a band of skin on her equally tight waist, a pair of short and ripped denim shorts, and finished with a pair of white, gum-soled sneakers. Ningning, on the other hand, wore the complete opposite of Soyeon’s fit with a loose pair of jogging pants, a baggy and oversized red t-shirt and a pair of slip-ons over her socked feet. It was also the first time since meeting them that Jae-in saw Ningning’s long and flowing hair tied on two braided twin tails.

“Why did you choose tables that were so high up?” Ningning voiced out with a louder tone followed by a shrill, high pitched laugh that was audible even a couple of metres from the table.

“Oh shit, it begins;” Shinwon muttered satirically.

Ningning and Soyeon eventually reached the picnic table after treading through the upward dirt path, casually evading exposed roots of the trees providing shed. Soyeon followed suit after Ningning immediately went to sit next on the vacant space beside Shinwon, but before approaching the chairs she spread her arms wide on the sides of her body as soon as she saw Jae-in. It was hard to interpret what she was doing, especially since there were a lot of things that Jae-in wanted clear first before they even return to conversing, yet he was able to deduce that it was an invitation for an embrace. It did look like she was just T-posing, however.

Though sceptical, Jae-in threw his self over her body anyway and moved to approach her figure before giving her a hug. He awkwardly snaked his arms around her waist and then the pair of them pressed each of their bodies against the other with a welcoming embrace and feeling the warmth of the other in the cold afternoon. It was not certain to Jae-in if it was the best way to open up after a confession, but it seemed to make Soyeon happy so he just rolled with it and believed that it was just and right. It was only a matter of time when Jae-in was overwhelmed with Soyeon’s familiar fruity scent.

The pair of them even forgot to consider the presence of their friends around them and continued on with the intimate embrace, stretching for a couple of seconds until Soyeon chose to break off from it. She then held Jae-in’s arms and planted her supple gaze on his eyes; a clear hint of happiness displayed on her bright irises.

“Yoon Jae-in… I missed you. Did you miss me too?”

Fuck, what am I gonna say?

“I did, Soyeonnie. You took long; we’ve been waiting for both of you. Come and sit with me.”

Soyeon moved as Jae-in gestured, yet added a short statement in a whisper.

“I’d rather sit on you, Jae-in.”

“Soyeon…?”

“I mean on your lap, of course…”

What?

The small commotion between the seemingly stuck figures of Jae-in and Soyeon were interrupted with the statements of Shinwon, apparently disliking the idea of Ningning sitting next to him. Kyungsoo sat, rather reluctantly, on the empty space beside Jae-in and Soyeon as his opposite side was filled with bags of unconsumed food.

“Yah; why is she seated next to me; do you guys have any idea how loud this person is?” he complained. “And why are you wearing braids? You look ridiculous in that!”

“You better not make me shout at you then,” snapped Ningning back not even betting a glance back at her. “And for the record, it’s my hair so you should not give a fuck about it. Jae-in, do you mind if I get some of those chips?”

“Oh not at all; here, have some.”

“Hey, don’t mind Shinwon here,” added Soyeon right after intertwining her fingers with Jae-in’s. “You rock that fit and I think that you’re really pretty in it.”

Jae-in, from the side of the table, honestly thought that the braids suited Ningning well, yet somehow he did not add to the squabble of opinions with Soyeon seated right next to him. Ningning then took a huge stack from the offered bag of chips and proceeded to talk back to Shinwon again.

“You know what; instead of annoying the fuck out of me, Shinnie, why don’t you just tell us what happened to you and Miss Yeri at Skylight when we all left?”

“Oh right,” added Kyungsoo who now opened a new bag of chips to compensate for the consumed ones. “You never mentioned anything about her to me either. I’d like to know what happened afterwards.”

“She was knocked out pretty hard. I started waking her up as soon as you all left, even some of the waiters were helping me take care of her. Some were starting to get concerned that she might have fallen unconscious with how knocked out she was that night. I think we stayed there for about an hour or two. We only managed to head out of the then-empty Skylight penthouse when Yeri magically woke up and asked what happened.”

“How was she knocked out, anyway?” Jae-in added. “I don’t recall her drinking before we left. I’m surprised that she’s just knocked out cold when we came back.”

“Jae-in, do you have any idea how long you and Soyeon were out talking in the dark?”

“I assume it’s long,” Soyeon answered for him. “I think it’s long enough for all you pabos to think that we had sex while we were gone; you fucking maniacs.”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” replied Shinwon with a smirk. “You see, Yeri actually woke up later and she wanted to loosen up a bit before heading home, and so the both of us elected to go to a pizza station not far from the Skylight hotel place and ordered a bunch of…”

The rest of Shinwon’s story was drowned with the sudden sensation on Jae-in’s arm. He turned towards Soyeon’s direction and found her embracing his arm, all in full, intimate grip. She was listening intently to Shinwon’s story as he relayed the events from after that fated night, and Jae-in could not help but recognize how clingy she’s been. For a person like him, especially with the context from the hotel, things were going too fast. In fact, as much as Soyeon’s a beautiful and charismatic woman, he suddenly felt uncomfortable with the gesture and moved to carefully withdraw his hand from her grasp.

“Hmmm…?” she said towards him, giving him a look of confusion. “Is there something wrong?”

Oh god, I acted out of impulse. What excuse do I even have to get past this?

“I’m sorry, Soyeonnie; I’m expecting my noona’s message. I thought I felt my phone ring and I’ll just check it.”

“Okay then~”

On what would feel like a perfect time to save him from that awkward save, another cab pulled over coming from the same direction that Ningning and Soyeon’s cab came from. Instead of on another set of explanations from Jae-in, Soyeon’s attention as well as the rest of the table shifted towards the cab in curiosity; each of them thinking if the person about to exit was the same person they all had in mind since they first heard it coming.

The young man who exited the taxi had a tall figure, dressed in an open denim button shirt, left open to showcase a white graphic tee he wore underneath, loose and faded jeans and a pair of black run-down sneakers that finished his casual look. Kim Hyojong stood there below with a huge smile on his face, waving his hand (and his long and wavy locks with it). Everyone else waved their hands for him to see as well, and after that the man absent from the Skylight dinner finally moved to walk and join his friends for what it was worth.

Jae-in, on the other hand, felt really happy that Dawn managed to save his situation unintentionally, adding to the multitude of times he did it without being planned. His presence, after being absent and incognito for a long while, was another reward for him coming with Kyungsoo for that day.

However, Jae-in felt increasingly guilty for pushing Soyeon away for a white lie. There was a sigh of relief, but a brief fraction of guilt afterwards. And so, Jae-in moved his hand and replaced it back to Soyeon’s. This time, it was him who intertwined his fingers on hers, much to Soyeon’s surprise. Jae-in averted his eyes as Soyeon looked back at him in surprise, but eventually understood what he was doing. She pulled his hand closer to her body and made sure that the back of Jae-in’s hand rested on her milky thighs all while each of the table’s members waited for Dawn’s arrival.

#kpop series #fanfic #kpop gg #male reader #gidle #aespa ningning

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lollytea · 2 years

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Okay consider this. Luz and Amity play the over protective parents on Hunter and say things like "What are your intentions with our Willow?" while pointing a flashlight at him. Actually I can imagine Luz doing all that while Amity looks at her girlfriend in confusion

Lol I feel like Luz probably wouldn't actually be protective over Willow, especially when it comes to Hunter of all people. Like. It's Hunter. In Luz's opinion he is absolutely harmless and even if he wasn't, Willow is perfectly capable of kicking his ass and Hunter is very much aware of this.

BUT. She's seen lots of protective parent shovel talks on TV and movies and she's dramatic so she wants to do it herself and go all out with it. Hunter is more confused than anything but once he realises what she's trying to do, he helpfully gives her interrogation and intimidation tips. He's done this a lot during his years as Golden Guard. Luz sincerely thanks him for his assistance.

They did not touch on Amity's current opinion on Hunter in Labyrinth Runners but during their last interaction, he was a real asshole so I don't think she'd be the biggest fan of.....whatever the fuck is going on here. Like excuse me sir?? That is my friend Willow?? My awesome friend Willow that you're laying your shitty idiot eyes on?? Did I mention that she is my friend?? Amity is protective of Willow, but she's also just recently learned that Willow doesn't like to be protected. So I don't think she would want to confront Hunter head on, but he does notice that he is being glared at. A lot. Makes him very nervous. She's clearly sending him a warning but he doesn't fucking know what it is.

BUT. There's also an entirely different opinion that Amity could have on this. Her observing Hunter with his little blushes which are getting bigger and bigger as time goes on and she's thinking "he just like me fr" and its like!!! Yeah she thinks he's a dick but she remembers that she was a dick once too!!! Maybe she just decides to ease up on the dude. God knows he's already on the verge of exploding at all times now, he doesn't need Amity breathing down his neck on top of everything else.

I think if anybody were to sincerely give Hunter this kind of talking to, it would be Gus "don't mess this up" Porter. Hunter is one of his best friends and he knows he wouldnt want to hurt anybody, let alone Willow. But also he's a bit of a dumbass so Gus has to drill into his head that he really has to think about his actions and words to avoid accidentally upsetting Willow by doing something stupid. He's firm but decent about it and Hunter can only respect that. He's like "yeah if I DO mess this up, then by all means, Gus has full permission to kill me."

#huntlow

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sebastianstangirl · 11 months

Text

The Other Side

Chapter 3: Rue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/ Rue Barton

Word Count: 2989

Warnings: language, fighting, guns, fire, high adrenaline

Rating: MA

Chapter Summary: Clint invites himself on a mission with Rue, Bucky and Sam.

Series

Tags: @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @sparklebae15-blog

Clint is mad.

I can feel the anger rolling off him in waves. He hasn’t said anything, but he can’t hide his feelings from me – he never could. We stare across the table at one another, ignoring the conversation around us. It’s like we’re in our own little world – Bartonland – and I’m riding the rollercoaster that is his demeanor. He rips into his bacon and chews aggressively. If anyone else at the table notices his attitude, they must be chalking it up to a hangover.

I know better.

I don’t have to ask, I’m more than capable of putting the pieces together – Clint’s anger, the fading mark on Bucky’s cheek. It can only mean one thing, Bucky went to him this morning. I wish he had let me handle my brother, but I know he is old fashioned and likes to do things a certain way.

Apparently Clint is a caveman and likes to talk with his fist.

“Barnes, Wilson and Barton,” Tony reads from his tablet, “there’s a high-security research facility that has gone suspiciously silent. We’ve been sent the case to look into it.”

“And why can’t the cops handle it?” Rhodey asks.

Tony sighs heavily and shakes his head as he scrolls. “Uh, it says that the facility is running tests on dioxin.”

“Dioxin?” Sam scoffs. “And you want to send a super soldier and two regular bad-asses opposed to, I don’t know, Thor or Banner? Or maybe Wanda who can contain an explosion.”

Tony peers over the tablet at him, replying, “Sorry, didn’t realize we were being guided by our emotions today. I assumed we had a standard protocol and order for these sub-par missions. And while you’re here bickering with me instead of taking action, somebody else could be taking their last breath.”

Sam crosses his arms but keeps his mouth shut.

“Where’re we going?” Clint asks, sliding his chair back.

Tony looks at him and shakes his head, “wrong Barton.”

Clint glances between me and Bucky before standing up abruptly. “No way, I’ll go. She’s not handling this.”

Tony drops the tablet and tosses his hands in the air. “Does anybody listen to me?” He asks Steve who gives him a sheepish look with tight lips.

“I can handle it, Clint,” I protest, quickly jumping to my feet.

“Then I’m going too,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Fine, whatever,” Tony quips. “Not really a four man mission, but if it’ll stop an argument just go.”

~~~~

As soon as Bucky lands the quinjet, Sam lands nearby and meets us on the ground. The flight was tense but otherwise uneventful. Clint made me ride in the back opposed to my usual seat next to Bucky, it irritated me but I spared everyone the argument.

“Whatcha got for us Sam?” I ask, tying my hair up in a ponytail.

“Looks like there’s hostages, nineteen gunmen scattered across the facility — including four outside.”

“Four outside, fifteen in, got it.” Clint drew his bow with a frown. “I’ll take out the outside guards.”

“We should take them out at the same time,” counters Bucky, shifting his rifle on his shoulder. “So we have the element of surprise. We still don’t know what they’re doing here, and I for one, don’t feel like being blown up today.”

Clint glares at him but doesn’t argue. “Where are they?”

Sam turns and points as he speaks, “two at the front door, one at the back and the fourth is patrolling. I can pick off the patrol from above.”

Just as soon as he was with us, Sam was gone again – shooting up into the air on his metal wings that shimmer like swords in the sun.

“I’ll cover the front,” Clint claims the closest door quickly.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “give me a minute to get around the building.”

He turns to face me, I glance at Clint who is watching through narrow eyes. Bucky walks over and stops less than a foot away from me, an easy smile on his lips that makes me smile.

“Hold this for me, will ya doll?” He asks, holding his rifle out to me.

Blushing, I grab it, our fingers brush along the stock. “Sure thing Buck.”

He taps my chin with a curled finger and smiles, “thanks. See you on the inside.”

“That’s enough,” Clint huffs.

We turn to look at him only to see he has his bow drawn and is aiming at Bucky. I quickly step forward, putting myself between the sharp arrowhead and Bucky’s chest where it’s aimed – Clint quickly adjusts his aim. I may be a head shorter than Bucky but I know Clint won’t risk actually shooting if I’m in the way.

“Come on, don’t you think that’s a bit much?” I scoff and gesture at the bow.

Clint keeps his eyes locked on Bucky, “nope. I warned him.”

“All he did was give me his rifle.”

“And now he can take a step back before this arrow embeds in his forehead.”

“We both know you’re not going to do it, so put the bow down,” I snap.

Clint narrows his eyes with a growl, but lowers his bow. He rolls his shoulders and nods towards the facility.

“You’re with me.”

“I was going with you anyway,” I grunt and roll my eyes before turning back to Bucky. “Be careful.”

He smiles warmly, “always, doll.”

He strides down the hill, choosing to take a route closer to the trees than the open field. I know he’s been in several perilous situations before and is equipped to face anything coming his way. Hell, we’d been on a handful of missions together already so I know first hand his capability.

Yet, even with that knowledge, a wave of apprehension settles deep within me, making my heart beat faster with each step he takes away from me. I can’t bear to witness him going in unarmed, so I hastily grab one of my handguns from my calf holster and rush after Bucky.

“Rue!” Clint shouts behind me.

“I’ll be right back.”

I hear a branch snap as I stumble down the hill, and when I reach the bottom, there is Bucky. He looks like a statue at the edge of the trees, his bear hands clenched into fists. His expression is dark and the lines in his forehead deepen as he sees me approach. I stop to catch my breath before holding my pistol out to him.

“I can’t just let you go without something,” I rasp as he takes the gun and slides it into his waistband.

“Thank you, love,” he says while his eyes soften and his demeanor relaxes.

Not being able to resist, I take a step closer to him. “I’ll see you on the inside," I whisper with my heart fluttering in anticipation.

He reaches out to stroke my cheek with his hand and sends me an enigmatic smile. “Can't wait, kitten.”

I reluctantly tear my gaze away from Bucky and take off running up the hill, realizing I'd pushed Clint too far. Reaching my brother, I can tell he's mad at me, but he wordlessly hands me the rifle and takes the lead. We move quickly and quietly to a group of rocks halfway down the hill. He deftly loads two arrows onto his bow in one elegant motion in readiness for Bucky’s sign. Sam soars up above, keeping watch on his target while staying hidden from the guards’ view.

Clint's gaze is locked on the talking men, not wavering for even an instant. His lips curl as he snarls, “when we get in there, you worry about the hostages.”

"I can fight Cli–

"Just do as I say," Clint snaps back, cutting me off, his voice hard and cold with authority. "We can handle the fighting.”

He squares his shoulders and tightens his lips, leaving me with no choice but to comply.

I roll my eyes, it’s pointless to argue with him when he’s in a mood. And something tells me he’s going to be in a mood for a long time. Bucky gives his signal, Sam swoops down and snatches the patrolling guard up and Clint lets his arrows loose.

They find their marks, both of the guards fall and we’re running. Bucky’s rifle slaps against my back, I didn’t take the time to adjust the shoulder strap before slinging it back on.

We reach the door in no time, Sam swoops towards the back – ready to help Bucky with whatever they find inside.

Clint yanks open the door, driving his shoulder into it as he dives through. He never hesitates to put his body between me and whatever he anticipates was waiting ahead of us.

An explosion of gunfire rips through the building and we immediately break out into a sprint.

Around the corner, three threatening figures stand with weapons raised, ready to fire. Clint pushes himself in front of me again, shielding my body from the danger as we face down our attackers.

Clint’s fingers close around an arrow but I act faster than lightning, spinning Bucky’s rifle around and unloading a barrage of bullets across the hallway. My accurate aim takes them all down in one fell swoop.

I ignore Clint's astonished gaze as I swiftly return the rifle to my shoulder and grab my handgun — a weapon much more suited to me.

Cold anticipation flares in my veins as my finger rests lightly on the trigger.

I demand into my com, “Sam, where are the hostages?” as I follow Clint down the hallway.

“Center break room. Door's guarded," Sam replies with gunfire and shouting echoing in the background. “There’s more of them than I initially saw, we’re outnumbered!”

We share a knowing glance; he knows I'm about to propose something that he won’t like.

“We can't afford to stay together, not at this point," I hiss as we clear another hallway. "I'll take the guy guarding the door – you go help Sam and Buck."

He shakes his head vehemently and steps in front of me. "No chance. You don't know what could be lurking around the corner. We stick together."

We methodically check every room and shadowed hiding spot for any sign of ambush, but I can sense time slipping away from us.

Every second he lingers with me is another second Bucky or Sam could meet their final blow.

"Come on!" I snap. "They need you in the back! I'm an Avenger too, I can hold my own against one guy!"

Clint's eyes narrow with rage and the sound of war fills the air.

"That wasn't Bucky!" I scream at him, brandishing the rifle for him to take.

He glares back coldly and snatches the rifle from my hands, "Fine."

We stand in a tense standoff for several moments before he strides off determinedly, leaving me shaking with anticipation as I prepare to rescue the hostages.

I take a deep breath, squeezing the gun in my hands until I feel its cold metal pressing against my sweaty palms.

Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I sprint down the hall, darting past upturned furniture and broken glass.

My ears are filled with echoing cries and the loud blasts of bullets firing. With each encounter, my heart races faster and faster towards an unknown destination.

I struggle to stay focused on my mission, as I’m verwhelmed by the thought of Clint and Bucky running into danger.

Despite my best efforts, my mind keeps drifting back to them.

In that moment, I finally understand why Tony had always resisted putting me and Clint together on a team – he knew how dangerous it could be.

As I come to a room at the end of the hall, my heart stops and a chill runs down my spine.

A looming figure stares menacingly at me, his eyes cold and calculating. His arm rises as he takes aim and I know there is no time to lose.

I lunge forward with all my might, barely dodging the bullet. It whizzes past me, just inches away from my skull, making a loud thud as it embeds itself into the wall behind me.

I quickly take cover behind a large wooden crate and peek out just in time to see the enemy reloading his gun with four more shots.

My heart slams against my ribcage as I flatten myself against the wall, my feet perched on the corner of the crate, gripping my gun tightly in my damp hands.

My finger tightens on the trigger as the man comes closer, his fat bald head illuminated by a string of overhead lights.

I can feel every beat of my heart as he confidently strides closer, sure that he's already pierced through the crate and me - unaware of what awaits him.

The shadows of his silhouette stretch across the floor, starkly contrasting with the emptiness.

He never thought to check for mine as he arrogantly assumed his superiority based on my sex.

Like a spring I coil myself down until I can see him before he can detect me.

My breath catches in my throat as his head slowly rises above the crate and his eyes land on mine.

In a split second I am upright and two shots fire in unison - booming through the room like an explosion, tearing through his chest and neck.

The force of the impact sends him flying back against a crate, still as death.

Glancing at his body triumphantly, I slip out from behind the crate and head in the direction he was coming from. Even if he wasn’t the one guarding the hostages, he surely was coming from there – or if nothing else I would join the guys in battle and we would save the hostages together.

Sweat rolls down my temple as I navigate the next few halls, relying on intuition and the sound of battle to determine which way to go in the labyrinth. I never expected the facility to have so many halls, but I’m also not well versed on research facilities.

“Rue!” Clint shouts across the com, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” I answer as I finally lay eyes on a sign that points me in the direction of the break room. “Took out a big baldy.”

“That’s my girl,” Bucky grunts as the sound of his metal fist finds its resting place in some unfortunate man’s face.

Smiling, I follow the directions on the sign and soon come to a stop when I see the guarded door of the break room.

“Found the hostages. You guys about done?”

“Sure thing,” Sam groans. “Matter of seconds.”

Thankfully the guard stationed at the door is preoccupied with looking down a hall towards the sound of the fighting. It is obvious he’s itching to join the fight, but has been commanded to stand guard. For a second I sympathize with him, if Clint had his way I would still be on the quinjet.

Shaking my head, I quickly shoot him in the head – he crumples to the floor without even knowing he was being watched.

I rush to the door and fling it open to see a room full of terrified scientists and various workers.

“Let’s go,” I demand, holding the door open.

“Who are you?” A scientist demands.

“Don’t be rude,” another snaps, “that’s Black Magnolia.”

I smile lightly and glance behind me to make sure nobody’s sneaking up on me. “Come on, I’m getting you guys out of here.”

The group quickly floods out of the break room, tensions are high as they all look to me for direction. Gunfire rings out, some of them scream while others duck – an alarm starts to blare through the ruckus.

I find myself torn, I know I need to get the civilians to safety but I’m worried about my teammates. As much as I want to run to help them, I know these people are top priority.

I look at the scientist who knew me, one of the few who didn’t flinch. “You start leading everyone out of here. I’ll follow and cover you.”

He nods and begins shouting orders at the others who start back down the hall I emerged from. I look back in the direction of the noise before I bring up the tail of the group.

Outside, the fire alarm continues to bellow out an earsplitting wail through the air. I urge them all up the hill, shouting orders like a commander in battle so that even the injured amongst them can hear me over the ringing chaos. Every second counts, as I'm terrified a spark will ignite a fiery explosion and incinerate us all.

Smoke rises from the building, rolling like ferocious grey thunderclouds reaching for the sky. I implore them to hurry, as my heart thunders in my chest with fear.

Suddenly I see Sam shoot out of a side window and up into the air, blood stained and grimacing.

“What’s going on Sam?” I demand.

He looks down and spots me then quickly flies down to where I’m at.

“Where are they?” I yell the second his feet touch the ground.

“I don’t know, we were separated,” he says hesitantly. “I couldn’t make my way back due to the fire. I couldn’t see.”

My heart drops and I start to rush forward but Sam grabs me by the arm.

“I can’t let you go back in there.”

I turn to glare at him and shout, “we can’t just stand here! My brother is in there!”

“I know, and he would kill me if I let you run into a burning building full of pathogens. I’m sorry Rue,” he shakes his head, “I can’t.”

My jaw muscles clench painfully as I spin around, my eyes widening at the sight of the monstrous smoke clouds gathering strength. Every breath of wind feeds them, their power and fury intensifying until they seem to loom over us like a menacing black blanket.

#james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x oc #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #mcu au #avengers au

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perexcri · 1 year

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That fic was !!! Wordsmith Perexcri strikes again because you always seem to know how to weave them!!!

(This is Fannon btw)

The imagery of Never Have I Ever on the eve of the Apocalypse—it’s like. I can’t even explain why I think it’s so cool—it’s sort of like almost an anachronism? but instead of something modern in a historical setting, it’s something so so normal when nothing in the world is normal. Idk I just woke up and I have a cold so idk if that made any sense, just know that I enjoy it.

Also, ‘All he knows is, each night, when Will rolls over to the edge of the bed they share and Mike’s eyes bore in to his bedroom wall, they always snag against a bloody, crimson heart on a shield, and he thinks he’d been stupid to ever believe anybody else could know him like Will does.’ BEAUTIFUL SO SO MUCH I am going to have this tattooed on the inside of my eyelids so I can look at it forever.

I hope you are doing very well!

(,,,I told my friends I would try to do this off anon for Once, bc I want to be your friend but,,,,I’m a coward☺️)

Thank you for being such a lovely writer!

!! hello fannon!! i hope you recover from your cold soon!! i am sending you a cup of warm soup to ward the illness away~

(this one got long so i'm gonna put the rest under the cut!!)

i'm so glad you liked it!! honestly i think this fic has become my fav i've written this year, so it brings me joy to see others liking it as well :D

what you're saying makes total sense!! i love when the mundane is contrasted with the horrific, like two teenagers playing never have i ever when they both think they're gonna die the next day. i always find little human moments like that impact me more than, like, an extended action sequence

i didn't explicitly use it as inspiration for this fic, but i do think i drew a little from buffy the vampire slayer (like with most apocalypse byler stuff i've written lol) for that contrast!! that show does such a good job of contrasting the mundane and quiet with the loud and horrific. i did think a little about the very last episode of buffy on the night before the big final battle, and there's this very quiet shot of buffy and spike sharing a bed in her basement,,,that's kinda the vibe i was going for, and i felt happy with how it came out in the actual story :D

AHHHH i love when people point out lines they like!! that's one of my favorites from this one - i remember writing it last night and kinda staring at my screen for a second like "oh. okay. don't know where that came from but i guess we'll roll with it" lol

FANNONNNNNN please please please don't feel like you have to keep using anon!! i would love to be your friend!! honestly a big reason why i post fics or do stuff on tumblr is because i want to talk with other people who are suffering from the same brainrot as me!! i've literally had full-blown conversations in the comments on some of my fics because i've really enjoyed getting to talk to other people (even though my social anxiety makes it very hard sometimes to talk but i'm being so brave about it). and honestly, i think fandom stuff is supposed to feel more like a communal thing?? idk i love responding to comments or getting asks or getting your messages anytime i post something because it makes it feel like i'm interacting with other people who like similar things as me, rather than me just like,,,mindlessly pushing stuff out into the void and never hearing anything back, or something like that. idk if that makes sense, but tl;dr: i would love to be your friend!! (but if you are too anxious about it i totally understand because, again, re: social anxiety)

thank you once again for stopping by fannon!! your words always mean a lot to me, and i hope you get to feeling better soon!! :] 💜💜💜

#ask #fannon

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7r0773r · 1 year

Text

The Autobiography of Malcolm X as Told to Alex Haley

Any person who claims to have deep feeling for other human beings should think a long, long time before he votes to have other men kept behind bars—caged. I am not saying there shouldn’t be prisons, but there shouldn’t be bars. Behind bars, a man never reforms. He will never forget. He never will get completely over the memory of the bars. (p. 155)

***

I saw that the best thing I could do was get hold of a dictionary to study, to learn some words. I was lucky enough to reason also that I should try to improve my penmanship. It was sad. I couldn't even write in a straight line. It was both ideas together that moved me to request a dictionary along with some tablets and pencils from the Norfolk Prison Colony school.

I spent two days just riffling uncertainly through the dictionary's pages. I'd never realized so many words existed! I didn't know which words I needed to learn. Finally, just to start some kind of action, I began copying.

In my slow, painstaking, ragged handwriting, I copied into my tablet everything printed on that first page, down to the punctuation marks.

I believe it took me a day. Then, aloud, I read back, to myself, everything I'd written on the tablet. Over and over, aloud, to myself, I read my own handwriting.

I woke up the next morning, thinking about those words—immensely proud to realize that not only had I written so much at one time, but I'd written words that I never knew were in the world. Moreover, with a little effort, I also could remember what many of these words meant. I reviewed the words whose meanings I didn't remember. Funny thing, from the dictionary first page right now, that "aardvark" springs to my mind. The dictionary had a picture of it, a long-tailed, long-eared, burrowing African mammal, which lives off termites caught by sticking out its tongue as an anteater does for ants.

I was so fascinated that I went on—I copied the dictionary's next page. And the same experience came when I studied that. With every succeeding page, I also learned of people and places and events from history. Actually the dictionary is like a miniature encyclopedia. Finally the dictionary's A section had filled a whole tablet—and I went on into the B's. That was the way I started copying what eventually became the entire dictionary. It went a lot faster after so much practice helped me to pick up handwriting speed. Between what I wrote in my tablet, and writing letters, during the rest of my time in prison I would guess I wrote a million words.

I suppose it was inevitable that as my word-base broadened, I could for the first time pick up a book and read and now begin to understand what the book was saying. Anyone who has read a great deal can imagine the new world that opened. Let me tell you something: from then until I left that prison, in every free moment I had, if I was not reading in the library, I was reading on my bunk. You couldn't have gotten me out of books with a wedge. Between Mr. Muhammad's teachings, my correspondence, my visitors—usually Ella and Reginald—and my reading of books, months passed without my even thinking about being imprisoned. In fact, up to then, I never had been so truly free in my life. (pp. 175-76)

***

I told the Englishman that my alma mater was books, a good library. Every time I catch a plane, I have with me a book that I want to read—and that's a lot of books these days. If I weren't out here every day battling the white man, I could spend the rest of my life reading, just satisfying my curiosity—because you can hardly mention anything I'm not curious about. I don't think anybody ever got more out of going to prison than I did. In fact, prison enabled me to study far more intensively than I would have if my life had gone differently and I had attended some college. I imagine that one of the biggest troubles with colleges is there are too many distractions, too much panty-raiding, fraternities, and boola-boola and all of that. Where else but in a prison could I have attacked my ignorance by being able to study intensely sometimes as much as fifteen hours a day? (p. 183)

***

That morning was when I first began to reappraise the "white man." It was when I first began to perceive that "white man," as commonly used, means complexion only secondarily; primarily it described attitudes and actions. In America, "white man" meant specific attitudes and actions toward the black man, and toward all other non-white men. But in the Muslim world, I had seen that men with white complexions were more genuinely brotherly than anyone else had ever been.

That morning was the start of a radical alteration in my whole outlook about "white" men. (p. 340)

***

My thinking had been opened up wide in Mecca. In the long letters I wrote to friends, I tried to convey to them my new insights into the American black man's struggle and his problems, as well as the depths of my search for truth and justice.

"I've had enough of someone else's propaganda," I had written to these friends. "I'm for truth, no matter who tells it. I'm for justice, no matter who it is for or against. I'm a human being first and foremost, and as such I'm for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole." (p. 373)

***

I am in agreement one hundred per cent with those racists who say that no government laws ever can force brotherhood. The only true world solution today is governments guided by true religion—of the spirit. Here in race-torn America, I am convinced that the Islam religion is desperately needed, particularly by the American black man. The black man needs to reflect that he has been America's most fervent Christian—and where has it gotten him? In fact, in the white man's hands, in the white man's interpretation . . . where has Christianity brought this world?

It has brought the non-white two-thirds of the human population to rebellion. Two-thirds of the human population today is telling the one-third minority white man, "Get out!" And the white man is leaving. And as he leaves, we see the non-white peoples returning in a rush to their original religions, which had been labeled "pagan" by the conquering white man. Only one religion—Islam—had the power to stand and fight the white man's Christianity for a thousand years! Only Islam could keep white Christianity at bay. (p. 376)

***

Anyway, now, each day I live as if I am already dead, and I tell you what I would like for you to do. When I am dead—I say 4 that way because from the things I know, I do not expect to live long enough to read this book in its finished form—I want you to just watch and see if I'm not right in what I say: that the white man, in his press, is going to identify me with "hate."

He will make use of me dead, as he has made use of me alive, as a convenient symbol of "hatred"—and that will help him to escape facing the truth that all I have been doing is holding up a mirror to reflect, to show, the history of unspeakable crimes that his race has committed against my race.

You watch. I will be labeled as, at best, an "irresponsible" black man. I have always felt about this accusation that the black "leader" whom white men consider to be "responsible" is invariably the black "leader' who never gets any results. You only get action as a black man if you are regarded by the white man as "irresponsible." In fact, this much I had learned when I was just a little boy. And since I have been some kind of a "leader" of black people here in the racist society of America, I have been more reassured each time the white man resisted me, or attacked me harder—because each time made me more certain that I was on the right track in the American black man's best interests. The racist white man's opposition automatically made me know that I did offer the black man something worthwhile.

Yes, I have cherished my "demagogue" role. I know that societies often have killed the people who have helped to change those societies. And if I can die having brought any light, having exposed any meaningful truth that will help to destroy the racist cancer that is malignant in the body of America—then, all of the credit is due to Allah. Only the mistakes have been mine. (pp. 388-89)

#malcolm x #alex haley #book quotes

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whatdoeslovemeantoyou · 3 years

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love is a secret between lovers

#i read a thing once about how when you’re in love #you make up a little language only you two understand #little words or actions that mean more than they could to anybody else #inside jokes #best friends have this #anybody who spends a lot of time together has it i think #close and personal relationships #and that’s why it hurts so much sometimes when you can’t use that language with anyone again #you can’t speak in love in the same way #your mouth shapes the words but nobody replies

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tooweirdforyou · 3 years

Text

How The OP Boys Say “I Love You” To Their S/O

How You Know He Loves You- idk man

A/N : enjoy.

includes » Ace, Sabo, Luffy, law, Sanji, Zoro, Marco, Rosinante, Kid, Shanks, Mihawk, Katakuri, Izo, Koby, Cavendish,

Summary : the boys’ own way of saying “I love you”, with their own words and ways. Or, how you know he loves you.

? Wait did I do this before? I don’t even know. also these aren’t GREAT, but they aren’t HORRIBLE. Yk? Honestly tho, some of these seem like they’re all over the place, which yes, they might be. UGH IT WAS SO HARD THO.

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy loves you like an adventure. Everything is new and always fun to try with him, and no matter what happens, you don’t ever regret it, because you’re doing it with him.

He’s persistent in staying with you everywhere, he wants to do everything with you. He tends to invite you ( by pulling your hand ) to do crazy things with him and away from the others so you’re alone.

He’s always showing off his skills and stupidity in order to make you laugh, because your smile is the best thing he’s ever seen and giggles are the beautiful sound he treasures.

His actions are genuine when he holds your hand and pulls you to his side all the time, with the warmest, loving grin.

Luffy always makes sure to remind you to never give up hope.

“Let’s go on an adventure together, [Name].”

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro loves you like you’re his one and only. No one has priority over you, ( except maybe Luffy ), and you will always be his, if you’ll let him.

Zoro is not a man of many words when it comes to his own emotions and feelings, so he shows it through his actions.

He always has an eye on you, so wherever you are is where he ‘sleeps’ so he can keep you close, his swords at his side to protect you from danger, ( but he knows you can handle yourself. )

Zoro is the perfect person to lend a comforting shoulder and ear. He will listen to every single one of your problems intently and if he can, will offer the best advice you’ll hear, even if it’s a bit harshly. However, whatever got you so down, Zoro will bring you back up.

Zoro is always reminding you that you are strong, no matter how tough things get.

“Oi, come take a nap with me. I could use a body pillow.”

Portgas D. Ace

Ace loves you like a gentleman, respecting boundaries, bowing to the elderly you pass by together and always ready to pick you up for your date at seven, bouquet of flowers in hand.

If Ace is good at anything, it’s knowing how to distract you with a good time. He knows the best way to bring a beautiful smile to your lips and can easily make sure to avoid the thoughts that brought you down in the first place.

He’ll share stories that will make you die of laughter or feel so wholesome that you literally melt at how sweet it is.

The few times he expresses and shares his insecurities to you, something he hides within him because he trusts you enough to do so. He loves your understanding and comfort for him.

Ace always reminds you that you’ll be okay, even at the worst times.

“You are the light of my life.”

Chief of Staff Sabo

Sabo loves you like a prince. He holds the door for you, takes your hand so you don’t fall, has the most charismatic smile on his face and is just so charming.

Sabo will remember the littlest things, the smallest details that you yourself don’t even know until he reminds you, and because of this, you are often gifted the most memorable and cherishing gifts, like the scarf you two bought for your perfect snowman, to the necklace you were staring a little too longingly at on display.

He’s always busy, but he doesn’t hesitate to drop whatever he has just for you. He will run through fire if it means you’ll stop crying or if you’ll be happy to see him. You are his lifeline, his soul, his love.

He may not know how to properly cheer you up like his brothers can, but he knows that he wants the best for you. If you need space, you got it. You need some tender loving cuddles and buckets of ice cream while watching Disney movies? Vanilla or chocolate ice cream?

Sabo reminds you that you deserve happiness and peace.

“Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.”

Trafalgar D. Water Law

Law loves you like you’re his savior, someone who’s always there during his time of need and insecurities, by his side when he needs you most.

He’s a little blunt and straightforward occasionally, but he’s honest somewhat. He won’t ever tell you his feelings until he deems it the right time, but you can tell he has feelings by the change in treatment.

He’ll keep you closer to him, making excuses by saying that he needs you to help him with the supply run, or that he needs your assistance with a particular menial task.

He’s awkward and shy about it at first but he cares and that’s all you need to know. Especially once you catch him during one of his weaker times, the anniversary of a particular someone rolling around, where he’s locked in his room. He needs you beside him, so please don’t leave him when he needs you.

Law reminds you that you are human, that it’s okay to be vulnerable.

“Just stay here with me.”

Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji loves you like a god/goddess. He will treat you with the utmost respect and care and offers you everything you could possibly want or need, just say the word.

His genuine, endless daily compliments are given to you with pure love and passion, his daily refreshments and snacks to keep you energized and hydrated keeps an eye out for your health.

He makes sure you know the true meaning of flattery, chivalry and love, because that is all he can show you.

However, under that chivalrous exterior, is his calmer, understanding loving self, where he shows his true self and when he finally shares this side with you, where he holds his insecurities, it’s the true honor and love you can receive. And it’s even better, when you become the one who loves for him in return during this time.

Sanji reminds you that you deserve to be and are loved.

“You are my world, my everything.”

Marco The Phoenix

Marco loves you like a married couple who grew old together, still playing jokes and having fun to life’s fullest, no matter your age.

He’s constantly lecturing you for the smallest things repeatedly, since you always seem to forget. His lectures lack any annoyance or malice though, he’s just kind of done with you sometimes.

Nonetheless, he’s taking care of you more than you think, always the first one there whenever you need help. He’s always prepared for whatever you need so you don’t have to look for it and get worried.

He’s stern at times but he loves you more than you could ever know, often questioning himself whenever he’s beside you. He half-lidded eyes watching you with warmth and admiration because you always look so determined.

Marco always reminds you that you are free. To live life to its fullest and however you wish.

“Let me fly you to the moon.”

Donquixote Rosinante

Rosinante loves you like a husband, he treats you like his wife, either you or him welcoming each other home after being gone for so long and greeting each other with a loving kiss each time.

He knows just how tough things can be and as much as he tries to make things right, he knows how bad situations really are and no matter how much he wants to cry or get angry, he always holds a smile, in front of you. To assure you that things will be okay.

He gives the warmest hugs, and knows that, so whenever you’re angry or sad, or just randomly at times, Rosi envelops you into a large hug, waddling you back and forth a few times, you feel instant relief and content, which makes him smile.

His priority will always be you, even if he’s hundreds of thousands miles away, he will find his way back home to you. He surprises you with the littlest gifts; being flowers, jewelry, candles, or more.

Rosi will always remind you to smile, even during the hardest times.

“I will protect you.”

Eustass Kid

Kid loves you like a game, it’s unexpected, unpredictable of what will happen and it’s exciting and thrilling. For you both, one wrong move, and the other is gone for good, but perhaps, second chances/rematches are available.

He can be brash and a bit much, but Kid has high respect for anyone who actually makes it onto his crew and can actually tolerate him, you included.

He’s loud and wild but that only makes it part of the fun. With such a short fuse, as long as you play your cards right and pick your moments to bite back, it’s kind of fun knowing how dangerous it can be with a guy like Kid, and he also loves it equally, because your feistiness is attractive.

Being a bad bitch that doesn’t play by the rules is so incredibly attractive and Kid knows how to reward and punish so tread carefully. ;) however, he has his down moments and as annoying he can be, he does appreciate the effort you give if you try to comfort him. He’ll be harsh about it but eventually, he just wants you to be with him in the end.

Kid reminds you to rebel, take risks and enjoy the thrill of getting in dangerous situation every once in a while, breaking a few rules doesn’t hurt anybody. Most of the time.

“Don’t fucking ever leave me.. okay?”

Dracule Mihawk

Mihawk loves you like you’re an empress, only the finest and highest quality for you, nothing else can compare.

Mihawk will buy you the most expensive dress that suits you, with an equally expensive matching jewelry to go with. Not to mention the heels, and, tch, how could he forget the roses you require? Despicable.

As much as he loves to show you off, he despises the stares of awe and admiration you receive whenever you go out, so his possessiveness takes over and he has an arm around your waist at all times, successfully showing you’re taken and to back off if they don’t wish to be cut into oblivion.

He trains you to handle yourself, obviously, you should know at least some basic skills. He’s not too hard on you but does push you to keep going until you truly wish to stop. It’s only because he’s worried that one day, he won’t be there and won’t be able to protect you.

Mihawk reminds you that you are a queen/king, a strong person who shall hold your ground and never back down from fear and show your bravery.

“Come here, mi amor.”

Red Haired Shanks

Shanks loves you like you’re his future. It’s an unknown journey, but he’s there for the ride and whatever may happen, he’s there staying and won’t be going anywhere, unless it’s with you.

The red head is a goofball, he drinks, parties and messes around but he is an incredible captain and genuine to a fault. So when he expresses kindness, it is purely from his heart and not out of manners.

He is extremely playful and yet when down to business, he is calm, collected, and cool. He knows just what to say in tough situations and great comforting advice, so he’s the one to go to when you’re feeling down. And as laid back as he is, disrespect to those he loves is the one shit he won’t take.

He’ll hold you close and with his signature grin, compliment you and tell you how much he appreciates you and as soon as someone lays a finger on you, his hand is on the hilt of the sword and he waits three seconds for an explanation before he cuts them down. No one messes with his beloved.

Shanks reminds you of loyalty. To always protect and care for those close to you, and keep that built up trust and bond you created with them.

“Trust me. I won’t let go of you.”

Charlotte Katakuri

Katakuri loves you like you’re glass, he’s careful, protective, cautious and treats you like you’re fragile, because he’s afraid of hurting you.

He’s larger than most, he’s aware of that, so he always takes the precautions to be aware of his surroundings, especially when you are around. He wants you safe and he will be devastated if he is the cause of your pain.

His large stature is a blessing to you though, because cuddling is so comfortable and comforting, it’s amazing. You can curl up and relax and just be at ease with him, because he’s so protective of you, even from his family members. He often keeps you away from Cracker and Perospero, in the slightest chance that they try to take you away from him.

He’ll be extremely heartbroken if Big Mom doesn’t approve of you, but his love for you is stronger, so he’ll keep it a secret if he has to but eventually, he’ll pray and wish for her blessing, asking the help of his siblings to convince her.

Katakuri reminds you of family, that even friends or crewmates are family and love you all the same.

“I will be here for you.”

Captain Koby

Koby loves you like a typical high school crush. He’s all shy and blushy, and evidently embarrassed when the pretty one at school is talking to him, ( that’s you. ).

He’s like the wallflower type, who tries to blend in but somehow, he sticks out in a way that lures you to him, like he’s hit the jackpot.

He is incredibly sweet, and his shyness is so adorable. You can’t help but coo whenever you see his red cheeks and soft smile of care he offers.

Always helps you with everything, will take the blame whenever you get in trouble, takes the suffering and pain when guys try to mess with you, and no matter how tough things get, he’s holding a brave face for you.

Koby reminds you of kindness, treat everyone with care and kindness, and it goes a long way.

“If you fall, I’ll be there to catch you.”

16th Division Commander Izo

Izo loves you like you’re a painting, he thinks you are true beauty, inside and out, you are a work of art, a true Mother Nature masterpiece born. One to be admired.

The type to be there. He’ll hold your hair while you vomit, rubbing soothing circles on your back while you cry, painting your nails while you complain about Ace, assure your perfection when you’re feeling insecure.

Best advice giver, holds no judgements at all. He’ll help with anything, because you need him. Romantic advice, friendship, sexual advice ;), he will help you any way he can.

He truly admires you, not because of your beauty, but your strength to be able to cry. Crying doesn’t mean weakness but rather, strength to be able to move forward even in the worst of times.

Izo reminds you that you are beautiful, no matter what anyone thinks or says.

“You are true beauty, my love.”

Cavendish Of The White Horse

Cavendish loves you like you’re a princess, and he is your handsome Prince Charming.

Every thing he does it like from a fairytale, if it involved a rather.. bit of a narcissistic Prince Charming. But he means well, because he still treats you like a real princess.

He gives you daily horseback rides, teaching you with his strong arms wrapped around yours and his black fancy hat on top of your head, as you two ride around and share laughs and memories.

And even through his big ego, he still makes sure to compliment you, tell you how proud he is of you and how much he truly admires you for your strong will and determination, because he really does love you. More than you know.

Cavendish reminds you that dreams can come true, sometimes it just takes a leap of faith and effort.

“I will treat you like the princess you are and deserve to be.”

A/N : 15 fucking people and having to think of different things while I’m distracted is so HARD. 😭 please tell me you enjoyed though ;-;

but did I do this already? God I can’t remember a thing, especially since I still haven’t updated my masterlists- and I’m terribly sorry if this really is all over the place ;-; also apologies if this is repetitive for some of them! It really is difficult yk ;-;

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