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black-mesa-slut-voice · 4 years

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YOUR BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO CLASSIC HEADCRAB DOMESTICATION

Click below to start reading this comprehensive document!

Note: All of this is written purely for fun by an aspiring zoologist who simply loves genetics and speculative biology! This is only mildly inspired by source material, and isn’t completely indicative of canon. A lot of these things are just speculative or made up for fun!

If you want to use any of this information for your own headcanons, OCs, or fanart, you are 100% welcome to use it, though I would like to be credited!

If you would like to see more things based on these headcanons, ocs, or simply more things or art I’ve done on this subject, check out my #headcrabguide tag on my blog!

HISTORY

In the wake of the 7 hour war and the proceeding Combine invasion, there was a large amount of casualties. However, not all of these casualties were humans. Animals took a lot of hits as well, and in the remaining 20 years before liberation, the resulting environmental tolls as well as continued extermination caused this sixth mass extinction- arguably just as bad or worse than the meteorite that killed the dinosaurs. Nearly 75% of land animals and over 68% of marine animals went extinct in this time frame.

The most notable toll was on human-domesticated animals. Because of the Combine influence, any animal that was reliant on human care was almost immediately wiped out, both purposefully and inadvertently as humans were no longer available to care for them. All livestock species and most pet species were completely eliminated, leaving humans with few, if no animal companions.

Humans, however, are a very social species, and are naturals at befriending things that are arguably dangerous. Wolves, cats, and even less common creatures such as foxes, snakes, and spiders were kept and tamed and bred for companionship and work despite their danger. When the Combine forces were driven off and humans were once again allowed to practice the art of domestication, they were left with very few options. Some birds, a few select felines, insects, and alien species were nearly all they had to work with.

And so, work they did.

Headcrabs, despite their use as a weapon by the Combine, were one of the first alien species to actually be domesticated. It is theorized that this is because a number of factors- first is that the one of the leading rebellion leaders, Dr. Isaac Kleiner, actually possessed one name “Lamarr”, putting the idea in many people’s heads that they could be tamed and kept. The second was their abundance. They were easy to find and acquire, and despite their danger, could easily be captured. Third, they are very easy to selectively breed and mass produce. Lastly, it was quickly discovered that headcrabs are much more intelligent and social than previously anticipated.

In the wild of their home planet, Xen, headcrabs actually had a very complex social system and niche. They formed large groups- called casts- that staked out swathes of territory. The leader of the group was called a gonarch. The gonarch was a large, heavily mutated headcrab that was the sole reproducer, similar to that of queen bees or ants. Though it was large, fast, and capable of defending itself, it lost it’s ability to easily feed itself, as it’s mouth became much smaller to make room for the reproductive sac.

Because of that, the rest of the cast was tasked with hunting and feeding the gonarch in exchange for protection and reproduction. The smaller, albeit still mature headcrabs would go out, and attempt to hunt down anything it could- smaller things were eaten or fed to the gonarch, and larger things that had the right shaped heads could be ‘coupled’ with, fusing the headcrab to it’s host and creating a gonome. Though gonomes were more powerful and capable of hunting larger prey and defending the rest of the cast, in turn, they lost their ability to reproduce. Thus, most casts had one gonarch, several gonomes, and many crabs.

Gonomes could come in any species that was large enough for a headcrab to couple with- and is perhaps why headcrabs were actually so easy to tame. With the right social encouragement, a headcrab can easily recognize humans and other larger creatures as being part of their cast, and regard them in the same way they would a gonome- with social respect and friendliness.

With a few generations of selective breeding, headcrabs quickly became much more docile due to their natural instinct of accepting oddly-shaped creatures as part of their cast.

CARE AND HANDLING

Despite the generations of breeding leading to a much more friendly, domesticated headcrab, care must still be exercised with them in regards to handling. They are very similar to cats in the fact that, despite their domestication, they can still be wild at nature and will often hunt smaller creatures, and are capable of harming someone if provoked.

Also similar to cats are their sense of community. Like mentioned, headcrabs can be trained and raised to see certain people- usually a household- as part of their cast. However, this presents a problem with strangers entering their ‘territory’. If not properly socialized, headcrabs can be quite aggressive to anyone they don’t recognize as part of their cast. This is beneficial for those who don’t expect anyone, or want a ‘guard dog’ type of pet- but can be detrimental to those who have friends or family that may come to visit.

Though headcrabs lack eyes, they are not completely blind. They have subdermal eyes located near the base of their front legs, which can detect lights and shapes. That, combined with their ability to ‘taste’ the air with specialized glands, are how they recognize others and their environment.

If you plan on having someone visit, it may be best to have something that smells like the visitor on hand for a few weeks beforehand, so your headcrab can become used to their scent.

For headcrabs that don’t mind activity, you can also take your headcrabs on walks or trips into public to get them accustomed to having strange scents and people around them, leading them to be less aggressive, even at home. Of course, it is always a good idea to have proper restraint for any flighty, aggressive, or even headcrabs that have never been socialized in public before.

Another good way to prevent injury is physical modification. For headcrabs that simply are rowdy or aggressive- or even just as a precaution for the most well behaved crab- there are several things you can do to prevent injury.

When headcrabs first started being tamed, the most common method of modification was ‘debeaking’. Despite it’s name, it’s actually a misnomer, as headcrabs don’t have beaks, only radial rings and fangs. ‘Debeaking’ was the process of removing all 18 fangs on the underside of the crab surgically, usually when young. This prevents them from growing back and completely eliminates the risk of being bitten.

However, this practice was quickly upturned under the argument of it being inhumane. While the headcrab often doesn’t suffer because of this, as their fangs are only used for gripping prey and not eating it- if done incorrectly, it can be painful in the long run.

One of the slightly more common methods are ‘fang caps’. Similar to claw caps for cats, fang caps are a small, plastic cap that can be fitted over the fangs of a headcrab. With a small amount of specialty glue, they become long-lasting solutions for injury prevention with no physical harm to your crab. Despite the seemingly perfect upsides, there are also precautions you must take. It is possible for a fang cap to become loose or fall off either through being applied incorrectly or simply from wear and tear. Thus, you must always monitor the state of the caps to ensure there are no accidents.

The third option, and the least used, is clipping. Though it does not remove the whole fang, clipping refers to filing down/clipping each fang individually so it’s not sharp. However, this is generally not only difficult, but it’s actually uncomfortable for the crab, and they can grow back fairly quickly.

For headcrabs that are properly either defanged or capped, there is little to no risk of being bitten. If a properly cared for headcrab does attack or try to mount your head, it can simply be pulled off, as there’s nothing allowing it to grip onto it’s ‘prey’.

However, you must still be mindful of the long, sharp front claws. Unlike the fangs, these do not have nerves until very deep in- and thus, can be slightly trimmed and filed with no discomfort on your crab’s end.

FEEDING

Headcrabs- despite their predatory nature- are not only social, but omnivores as well. This fact comes as a surprise to some people who look at them and compare them to things such as spiders.

Indeed, though a headcrab is most definitely a predator, they’re more opportunistic than anything. They will often eat nearly anything they wander across, including small creatures, decaying corpses, fruits, fungi, algaes and lichens, and very occasionally some vegetables and leafy matter.

Most of what they eat is less dependent on taste, and more of their actual physical ability to eat it. Because of their hyper specialized mouthparts, they are unable to chew. Instead, they scrape at the soft parts of whatever is fitted into their mouth with a specialized, rough ring around the inner mouth fitted with a bunch of extremely small ‘teeth’, similar to that of a lamprey. Thus, they can only eat what they can scrape off with that, and cannot chew bones or anything hard or with too much roughage. It’s non uncommon to see a headcrab take something into it’s mouth, such as a small bone or rock covered in lichen- ‘suck’ it clean, and spit it back out.

Thus, headcrabs can be fed nearly anything that they can fit into their mouth. Of course, that is within reason- it’s always good to look up what is or isn’t toxic to your crab, as well as feed them specialty diets to make sure they get all of the proper nutrients they need without over or underfeeding.

The most common way to feed is with commercial ‘crabcakes’- rounded nutrient blocks resembling a large piece of kibble, that comes in several sizes to fit in any crab’s mouth. Once given, a headcrab will take about a few hours to eat it, and don’t need to be fed again for another few days, or up to a week, depending on activity and how many supplemental treats are given in between. Though it’s perfectly fine to feed them only cakes or only prepared food, the most enriching and balanced option is feeding the cakes once a week, with smaller, daily ‘treats’ of different varieties being given.

Some of these treats can include:

Pieces of meat (any type, cooked or raw)

Small, whole prey (commercially prepared mice or chicks)

Whole or sliced fruits (apple, pear, etc)

Tubers (potato, sweet potato, carrot)

Hard vegetables / stalks (chopped celery, broccoli, etc)

Mushrooms (anything edible by humans is edible for your crab)

As a special treat, sometimes you can replace a cake with a large ‘prey’ item that would also take several hours to eat. Some examples are:

Large whole prey (Whole birds, large chunks of meat, antlion grubs, etc)

Large fruits (Melons of any type are a favorite)

Large vegetables (heads of cabbage, heads of broccoli, etc)

Of course, any meat-based items are going to be chosen over non-meat items if offered.

BREEDING

Breeding headcrabs, unlike many other creatures, is generally not something that can be done unless you are a committed hobbyist. Namely because normal headcrabs- even if they are mature- are incapable of breeding whatsoever. The only type of headcrab that can reproduce are the gonarch, the heads of the cast. All headcrabs are biologically ‘male’ until they transform into a gonarch, or lost reproductive organs entirely as a gonome.

Originally a gonarch was produced when there simply wasn’t a gonarch in the group. The largest, strongest individual would then begin to grow and mutate, similar to how many fishes can mutate into a larger or opposite gender if needed.

However, this ability was removed from the headcrab- along with the ability to create proper gonomes- by the combine when they were being used as weapons. Though headcrabs were efficient at taking care of humans, anything larger and more dangerous threated to get out of hand; the combine didn’t want them reproducing out of control and becoming another threat. Incidentally, this is also when their eyes became subdermal as part of a side effect of gene altering.

Because of this, there are only two ways to breed a headcrab. One, and the most common, is to create an artificial gonarch sack. Blueprints were taken from the combine after their defeat that allowed humans to replicate the same technology that allowed them to mass-produce them before.

Artificial gonarch sacs are similar to ‘ghosts hearts’ where they are pseudo-biological, and accept any DNA put into it. Thus, you can insert DNA from any crab to become the ‘gonarch’ or ‘female’ DNA, and either get the smaller male to ‘mount’ the artificial gonarch in a specialized area, or do the male portion artificially as well.

The artificial womb also lets you control how many offspring are produced, as normally a gonarch can produce hundreds of crabs from each successful mating- too many, often, to properly take care of.

Much less common is the artificial transformation of a true gonarch.

Any headcrab can be stimulated to turn into a gonarch with the injection of artificial hormones that trigger the process. It will then take a few weeks to a few months for the crab to transform.

However, this is not recommended for a number of reasons.

First, they are large. They need much more than a house for their territory- they often need several acres, and if it’s deemed unsuitable for a nest, she will refuse to breed and become agitated.

Second, they are very territorial, aggressive, and dominant. If you were a gonome to them before, you still are- which means, in headcrab ranks, she is now above you, socially. Even the most docile crab becomes an aggressive, protective creature who will defend her young and territory with her life. Combine that with their massive size, they are extremely dangerous, even to a professional.

Third, it is very hard to regulate the exact breeding. She will only accept other headcrabs from her cast, and if she deems them unfit, will promptly kill them. And even once they are bred, they can produce several hundred offspring- of which it is very hard to take care of, and even harder to take away from her due to her protective nature.

Lastly, she cannot feed by herself. She requires being fed specialized food through specialized apparatus- and a lot of it.

It’s expensive, costly, and overall dangerous. Thus, artificial gonarch sacs are generally the go-to.

COLORS AND PATTERNS

Just like with previous animals that were domesticated, such as cats, dogs, and goldfish, after a few generations of breeding they began to exhibit unique colors and patterns. After enough time, unique, recognized colors, coats, and even breeds came to be official recognized.

It was made even easier because breeding for exact genes was made simple by means of artificial sacs. Thus, headcrabs come in a vast array of colors and patterns, some even unique to certain subspecies.

The most common colors are pale, albeit warm shades of tans, yellows, and browns. In more rare cases, they can take a more green, purple, or red tint.

Tan, ash, sand, and flaxen were the first recognized distinct colors that were bred onto headcrabs. Chocolate and umber quickly arose from the original tan, with rose following not far behind. When rose was cross-bred back with umber, it resulted in lilac.

Golden arose when sand crabs were bred for vibrancy, and sorrel was the result of a cross of golden and umber.

Flaxen gave way to wheat, and then swamp when bred for the cooler, greenish mutation.

Patterns, too, were something that quickly came about, not long after the first distinct colors began to be recognized.

The first patterns that arose were speckled, striped, and Siamese (named after the similar patterned cat).

Fawned came from a recessive mutation that reversed the pigment cells that caused the spotting pattern on speckled crabs, making them appear lighter instead of darker. Pearled arose when it was cross-bred back with speckled- which usually resulted in speckled, but sometimes in pearled. Because fawned is recessive, the only way to get fawned is to breed with another fawned or a pearled. Breeding a fawned and a speckled results in only speckled or pearled.

Snowshoe, similarly, rose from the same recessive mutation, though this time with Siamese. Similar rules apply; though an ‘in between’ similar to pearled does not exist, as they simply neutral each other out.

Capped rose from Siamese, though it looks similar to bullseye. Bullseye actually came from a very hyper specific mutation of smoked, and is one of the most rare patterns, much moreso than capped or smoked.

Striped crabs are what were bred into both smoke and ticked- with smoke being an increased level of pigment, and ticked being a decreased level.

Marbled is another very rare pattern with dubious origins. Some say it’s a standalone mutation, though others say it originated with smoke, bullseye, and even speckled. However, none of these are confirmed.

Of course, all of the patterns and colors on the charts above are not every single example- there are many more sub-variations of colors and patterns of each type, these are just the main, conformed and recognized ones. They also don’t include any non-recognized crossbreeds or mixes of colors or patterns that aren’t an established record.

UNIQUE BREEDS

Even moreso than recognized colors and patterns are unique breeds of crabs. Though, again, not even breed pictured above are all of them, these are just some of the more noteworthy examples.

Truthfully, nearly all crabs are going to be your standard breed, and not one of the ones pictured. Unless it is either obvious or has had a genetics test, it is safe to assume your crab is a standard.

Two of the most recognized sub-species are the racer and the false poison. These were both bred to be inspired by the combine-created species, the “fast” headcrab and the poison headcrab. Their target audience both began for people who liked them in theory or as an aesthetic, but lacked the funds, ability, or want to deal with the much more dangerous and aggressive ‘true’ versions.

Because they were intended for war, fast headcrabs and poison headcrabs lack almost all social aspects that standards do, are much more aggressive, flighty, wild, and dangerous. Not to mention to potent neurotoxin than poison headcrabs excrete, and the vicious teeth of fast headcrabs. Nowadays theyre both often bred for show or work, but we aren’t focused on them here, simply the standard crab.

Pancakes are some of the harder to recognized subspecies, due to their generally unassuming appearance. They’re named so because they’re typically ‘flatter’ than the normal headcrab, tend to range in the golden-sandy color range, and are described as being ‘soft and sweet’. True to that, that is the original purpose that pancakes were bred for- they’re small, lazy, hyper-friendly headcrabs that almost never attempt to show any signs of aggression unless severely pushed. They’re great for households with kids, or simply people who want a slightly less high-maintenance crab.

They can come in nearly any pattern and color, but again, tend to be in the warm, golden-yellow tone range.

Hunchbacks are a much more narrow breed, since it's recessive, and tend to be not as desirable for no other fact than their appearance. Still, that are amazingly unique. Because of the rarer, recessive nature, they generally only swamp/wheat/greenish colors, and only come in a narrower range of patterns, including speckled, smoked, striped, ticked, and marbled. Though, because of the fact that speckled exist, pearled and fawned theoretically could too- there’s simply yet to be documented evidence of a successful fawned mutation.

Nubbed is another breed caused by a rare mutation that has been successfully bred into a small population. It’s very easy to spot because of it; the mutation clearly causing their front claws to be short, or ‘nubbed’. Nubbed can come in any color or pattern, though they tend to follow the standard/less extreme patterns and colors. This is because it was because of a mutation that actually happened really early in domestication, before a lot of colors or patterns were even bred, and is a recessive mutation making it hard to breed with rarer colors and patterns.

Saddlehorns are an extremly unique and very specialized breed. They’re definitely recognizable by their concave back and the nub near the base of their front claws. They also have a pattern that's unique to only saddlehorns- which is the 'cow spotted' pattern. However, it isn’t just random spots. Though they do have large splotches, they always have a band going around their middle as well. They can come in any pale color, and the markings are usually in the brown to dark, almost black range.

Bunin or “Bubbleheads” are actually a relative of hunchbacks, and not saddlehorns, despite the head similarity. They tend to follow the same rules as hunchbacks, but instead of greenish tones, they come in golds, yellows and warm-orange tones. There has also been confirmed cases of fawned and pearled bubbleheads.

Volkov are a common, albeit specific breed that's bred for it's ferocity, but also it's loyalty. They’re often easy to mistake for a standard, and combined with their relative commonality make them hard to identify to the untrained eye. They appear like standard headcrabs, except they have a slight hunch to them. Their real difference lies in the personality.

As mentioned, they’re loyal and very attentive to the rest of their cast, but have a ferocity and sharp hunting ability that comes with it’s protectiveness. They’re often used as pest control or ‘guard dogs’. This makes them suitable for those jobs, but poor choices for people who live in high population areas or have lots of visitors.

They generally come in browns and blacks, but can truthfully come in any color. They can come in MOST patterns- all but smoked and bullseye.

Batas are another weird breed with a unique patterns, which is the squiggly markings centralized on their rump. They only really come in variations of the color pictured, golds, flaxens, and sandy. Similar to pancakes, they're known for being very complacent with handling, making them good for those with kids or for shows, where the more prominent the markings the better they judge. The difference is the fact that the whole breed itself is prone to many health problems, as it’s very recessive and commonly inbred. Purebreds are pretty expensive.

Silkies or “thinskins” are a breed that came from a mutation that caused their skin to be extremely thin. They're questionable morally to keep, since they're prone to getting wounded very easily, even by their own fangs and claws. Because of this, they have to be debeaked and/or declawed, or must have fang caps at all times and their front claws filed regularly, les they hurt themselves.

They also generally have a myriad of other health problems because of the inbreeding needed to get them, and are prone to several diseases, skin problems, and increased chance of injury.

They generally dont have any patterns, but come in most all colors. However, because of their thin skin, their yellow blood tends to show through, giving any color a yellow tint- and appearing outright yellow on lighter coats.

Munchkins aren’t as much of a breed as they are a mutation, and can come in any color or pattern because of it. There can even be munchkins of other breeds.

Hookclaws are a very newly recognized breed, and still have yet to be fully explored. So far, they can come in pretty much any color, but they never have any patterns aside from a heavy gradient on their back. More research is being done to try and breed patterns onto them.

SUMMARY

Despite their nefarious beginnings, headcrabs quickly arose as a very common, domesticated companion in the post-combine years. Though they aren’t for everybody, they make a fascinating, unique pet for those willing to put in the work and research. Or, even if you aren’t interested in adoption; the history and genetics are a fascinating, competitive, and potentially lucrative field for any young entrepreneur.

So whether you’re looking for a new companion, someone to guard the house while you’re away, or simply a new career in genetics, headcrabs are an amazing species to look into.

#half life #half life 2 #headcrab #headcrabs #speculative biology #alien biology #my art #ask to tag #headcrabguide

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 4 years

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Missing You

A/N: This is just a little smutty one-shot. Thank you guys so much for all of the notes on my last fic! I really thought it was gonna get like 4 notes so that was a really amazing surprise. If you haven’t read it you can check it out here: I Would Do Anything You Asked Me To

Masterlist

Read the (sort of) part 2: Up In The Air

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N gets creative in her attempts to convince Spencer to get a phone from this century

Category: Pure smut baby

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sex, dirty talk, phone sex, innocence kink, masturbation (both male and female), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed

Word count: 2200 words

“I don’t need one Y/N” he says exasperated, neatly folding clothes to put into his go-bag. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation but Y/N continued to insist.

“I’m not saying you need one Spence, I’m saying that it would be nice if you had one. Your phone now just does the bare minimum, calls and texts, does that thing even get your emails?”

He rolls his eyes, “You know that’s exactly what I like about it, why would I want any other functions? Plus I like the tactility of the buttons. Humans have been conditioned to find stimulants like the feedback from pressing a button satisfying, it helps us feel like we’re solving problems, essentially.” He deflects.

She takes a step closer to him, placing a hand gently on his arm, “Do you know what could be more satisfying than that?” She questions him, and he shakes his head, eyebrows coming together in confusion, “If I could send you pictures while you were away? Or if we could video chat when I miss you at night?” She pulls him around to face her so he can see her expression, the way she’s looking up at him with half lidded eyes, hoping he doesn’t miss what she’s getting at.

He smirks, and lets out a laugh that’s just shy of scoffing, “You know we can do that with just audio?”

“Are you serious?” He just nods in response, “so you don’t think the visual component is necessary?”

“Necessary’s not the word I would use. It would be nice to have, but I’ve got enough visual aids stored away up here” he taps his temple as he speaks. She groans at him, her point failing to land.

“We can’t all have your memory! Sometimes I don’t just want to think about you getting off in a hotel room, I want to see it” she whines and he gives her a small laugh.

“Look, we can talk about this later but I have to go” he places a gentle kiss on her forehead before he zips up his bag and is out the door.

— — —

When he gets back to his hotel room that evening he collapses back onto the bed. He should have a shower but he’s not sure he even has the energy for that. He was reserving it for his phone call.

He and Y/N had an agreement. Whenever he was away he had to call her each night he was gone. It wasn’t a possessive thing, it was more of a safety thing. If she could just hear his voice for even 30 seconds she could sleep easy. Sometimes it would be just that, a quick ‘hello, love you, goodnight’ other times there’d be plenty to talk about, good and bad. Sometimes he needed the call more than she did. But they never had phone sex.

Spencer was confused why she’d seemed so adamant that it was something he should upgrade his phone for when it wasn’t something they typically even engaged in.

But he didn’t know what she had in store for him yet.

He got changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt and lay back into bed, propping himself up against the pillows. He dialed Y/N’s number.

“Hi there.” her voice was smooth like honey and he missed her already.

“Hi.” he breathed

“Did you find my present yet?” He had no idea what she was referring to. Sitting upright in his bed on instinct.

“No?”

“Shame, will you check that little inside pocket of your bag for me? The one with the zip?” he hops straight up to root for it, finding a small sealed envelope. He settles back into bed before he rips it open. It contains a small collection of Polaroids, all of them of Y/N.

She knew what he liked. He’d never say it in so many words but he had a thing for innocence, something about seeing her in white lingerie, or sometimes baby pink. He would always get a little more excited than usual, grabbing, and pulling, and ripping on occasion. But he didn’t recognize the set she was wearing in the Polaroids. It was white satin, with some ruffles, she had a suspender belt around her waist with thin white stockings attached as she stretched out on their shared bed.

His eyes poured over the images, in another it was just from her chest up, giving him a perfect view of her breasts, the expanse of her neck, the frame cutting off just above her lips which were delicately covered in lipgloss. He could see sheen of where the cameras flash had bounced off it.

“Fuck” was all he could think to say. All other words escaping him as he turned his attention towards the photo of her with her hands inside of her own panties, her back arched off the bed beneath her.

“So you found ‘em?” She spoke, her voice sultry and laden with tension.

“I, uh, yeah” he breathes down the line, feeling his cock twitch at the sound of her voice coupled with the images in front of him.

“Are those— the underwear, is it new?” He already knows the answer but he’s not sure what else to ask.

“Mmhmm” she hums, “I thought you’d like this set, I was saving it for a special occasion but I thought, what the hell.”

“I do, I like it a lot.” he reaches his hand inside the waistband of his sweatpants without really thinking about it.

“You know Spence, I really wish you were here right now” she toys with him playfully, “So you could see this set in person, I’m looking at myself in the mirror right now and those pictures really don’t do it justice.”

Spencer almost stops breathing, “You’re wearing— now?” He asks in disbelief.

“This is what I usually do when I miss you Love. I’ll get all dressed up in something I know you like, and I’ll fantasize about what you’d do to me if you were here.” her tone is soft but teasing, still standing to admire herself in the mirror.

She could see why he liked her in white, it made her look so sweet, and cute almost. Whenever she wore underwear like this she went all out. Applying a mascara she knew would run down her cheeks with even the slightest tear, lipstick or lipgloss that was sure to smear or leave stains all over the parts of Spencer that she’d kiss. He loved that, the juxtaposition of the before and after. The adorable angel that he got to ruin.

“What do you do when you fantasize?” He questions, letting his own mind drift as he wraps his hand around his now painfully hard cock.

“Well I’ll think about you, how you like to hold me down by my hips while you eat me out, or how much better your fingers feel” she moans, slipping her own fingers into her panties as she lays down in their bed, “mine just don’t fill me up like yours do.”

Spencer can imagine it perfectly, the way she’s probably splayed out on their bed right now. “God I wish I was there. I’d have my fingers so deep inside you, you’re always so wet for me” he groans into the receiver, “tell me how wet you are for me baby?”

She’s impressed that he’s getting the hang of this so quickly, obliging him right away. “Fuck Spence, I’ve been dripping wet since I heard your voice. I’ve been thinking about this all day. Do you want to hear?”

She doesn’t wait for a response, she just brings the phone down towards her pussy, lining up the microphone next to it as she pumps her fingers in and out, so that he can hear the wet sounds that fill her bedroom. When she brings the phone back to her ear he’s breathing heavily.

“Fuck Y/N. I wish I was there so bad, I wish I could fuck you right this second” he’s almost whimpering, she can tell he’s touching himself already.

“If you were here with me in bed right now, how would you fuck me Spencer?” She takes a moment to root her vibrator from the drawer in her beside locker. If she concentrated, or stopped concentrating maybe, she could pretend it was him.

“I’d grab you by that fucking suspender belt, and flip you over. Have you face down on the bed for me, your perfect ass in the air.” His sentences are punctuated by harsh breaths, bordering on gasps. “For being such a tease I’d have to rip those tiny little panties off you, as if they were really covering anything in the first place.”

As he speaks she hooks her fingers in the sides of those panties and pulls them off her legs so she’s got better access now. Lining the head of her vibrator up at her entrance, pushing it in slow and steady, waiting until it’s completely sheathed inside her before turning it on.

“I’d grab you by your hips and pull your ass up so my cock is right there, so I can push the head up against your pussy, feeling how fucking wet you are for me”

She’s moaning now, and if he can hear the vibrations he doesn’t say anything.

“Then I’d push into you, your tight little cunt, I always have to go so slow for you to take all of me. I’d keep going, deep as I can so I can feel you squirm under me, feel you clench even tighter around me”

She had no idea he had a mouth this dirty but she was loving every second. “I fucking love it when you fuck me from behind” is all she can string together, writhing on top of their sheets.

“And that’s exactly what I’d do next baby, I’d start to fuck you. Slow, and deep at first, then fast, and rough. I love the sounds you make when I get rough. Those pathetic little whimpers and cries while I fuck you into the mattress. I can even hear them with your face buried in the pillows. It’s even better when you cry just a bit, mascara all over your little cheeks ‘cause you just can’t take it.”

He’s panting now, his boxers pushed down his hips so that he can properly work his cock, his fist pumping up and down faster and faster as he’s about release.

“Where would you cum Spence?” She says it but she almost doesn’t recognize her voice, it’s more of a strangled cry and it goes straight to his dick.

“You know I’d cum deep inside you, fill you up while you tighten around me, god I love those fucking noises you make. Cum for me” he demands, and she’s got no problem obliging.

With her back arching up off the bed, her hands fisting the sheets, and the vibrator still buried inside her, imagining it’s Spencer, she cries out. Moaning louder than she intended, her phone on loudspeaker beside her. She can hear him too. His hand working himself through his climax as it coats his stomach and fingers and little gasps and groans he lets out that sound an awful lot like her name.

Once they’re both spent they lie in silence in their respective beds for a moment before Spencer breaks the tension.

“That was a surprise”

She bursts out laughing. “Well that was the idea”

“But why?” He asks, deliriously happy but confused.

“I thought it might convince you to invest in a phone with a camera?” She says like he’s silly for even asking.

“Why would I want that? This just proved that we don’t need that” he explains, and he’s not wrong but he’s missed the point.

“Spencer, I’m gonna take some pictures of myself right now, and I’m gonna send them to your email. I want you to grab your laptop and open ‘em up for me okay?”

“Okay?” He agrees unsure, and she hangs up.

Several minutes later and he’s opening up an email with the subject heading:

“pros of dr. reid getting a new phone”

There’s no text, just a series of photos of Y/N. She’s staged them perfectly.

The first is a selfie, messy hair, smudged lipgloss, and mascara stained cheeks on show as she’s blowing him a kiss. Another is just her mouth, but she’s stuffed her discarded panties inside, leaving the wet stain obviously visible to him. There’s others of her, taken of herself in the mirror, fingers inside herself, in the next she’s got those same fingers in her mouth, lips closed tightly around them, cheeks hollowed out. Spencer has to stop scrolling or he’ll just get hard again.

He hears his phone ping with a text message.

You could’ve been looking at these the whole time, might’ve even gotten a video if you were lucky x

He rarely likes to admit defeat but in this case it might just be worth it to concede.

I’ll buy a new phone first thing tomorrow x

—

Masterlist

Read the (sort of) part 2: Up In The Air

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate. Notes: Reader gets a bit of a backstory here, with just enough concrete details to serve the plot in future chapters. Hopefully enough is kept vague for people to enjoy it. Now... Time to meet your new kids-in-law/the gremlins :) Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants

2: Uncertain Destinations

“You already know my name, as well as my fate, and I have neither threats nor demands to make of you. I am at your mercy, regrettably, with nothing more to say. Shall we consider ourselves ‘introduced’? Or is there more you wish to ask of me?” You wonder, eying ‘Alcina’ with a bored expression. It felt odd to refer to her that way, even within the confines of your mind. She had been ‘Lady Dimitrescu’ for as long as you could remember; starting with your years in the village, and continuing through your months here at the castle. One day, perhaps, you would grow used to calling her by her first name. For now, you simply hoped to focus on other matters.

“Tell me of yourself, your past. Who were you before you came here?” Alcina asks, surprising you. What did it matter, now that you were stuck here? At first you shrug, avoiding eye contact, not wanting to open yourself up to her. But before long she’s placed a hand on your shoulder, applying just enough pressure to encourage you to speak. You win this round, you think.

“Somehow I doubt you’ll find it terribly interesting. I was born in the outskirts of the village, on a small farm, just like any other. I had a pet dog, went to ‘school’ with my neighbors, and spent my weekends volunteering with the church. The only thing you might not expect is that I lived outside the village for about a decade. Traveled for a while, never really staying anywhere for terribly long. Eventually, I got tired, and so I came back to help my parents with what little property they had left,” you explain, quietly. Being vague had been intentional, considering the nature of a few details. Did she need to know why you had left? Or that you had once revered Mother Miranda?... No, because if she learned that, it would not be long before she learned that you had changed your mind years ago. Something told you that she wouldn’t appreciate your lack of faith in her mistress. “That was six months ago, roughly. Barely got to spend time with my parents before I was ‘donated’ to the staff here.”

“Not many ever leave the village. Those that do rarely, if ever, return. How particular,” Alcina replies, giving a soft hum. There’s something in her expression that tells you she’ll eventually ask you to elaborate. For now, however, she seems content to move on. Internally you sigh in relief. “I suppose this is sufficient to sate my curiosity, for the time being. Now come with me, I’d like to introduce you to my daughters, to ensure that they understand you are… off limits.” With that said she stands, once more reminding you just how small and fragile you are in comparison, before heading towards the exit. You’re nearly forced to jog in order to keep up with her long strides. As she leads you through hallways, down a flight of stairs, and past several nervous looking maidens, she slows down the slightest bit, having eventually noticed your struggle. Admittedly, that’s more kindness than you would have anticipated. Perhaps she was used to adjusting her pace for her daughters?

Whatever the reason, you do appreciate it. Still, by the time you arrive at your destination, the castle’s library, your legs are feeling the smallest bit sore. Brushing off the ache, you follow Alcina inside. Then you’re taking in the sights, having not been here before, admiring the impressive collection. Glad I’m not responsible for cleaning this place, you think as you pass by dozens of filled shelves. Before long you encounter the three daughters. They’re sitting in a semi-circle, each with their own book, though they’re quick to sit up once they spy their mother. One by one they’re smiling up at her, not even sparing you a moment’s glance. Admittedly you’re glad for that. What good could come from their attention, especially when they don’t yet know who you ‘truly’ are?

“I’m glad to see you’re all in one place, my darlings. There has been a… development, of sorts,” Alcina says, speaking in the same tone one might use to address a faculty meeting. In a less intimidating household, it would have been much harder to hold in a laugh. Was this always how she spoke to her children? For their sake, you hoped not (though the concept was amusing). Regardless, it is at this point that the daughters notice you, with one of them looking intrigued enough to send a shiver down your spine. You’re pretty sure her name is Daniela, being the only one you haven’t met before today. A toothy grin spreads on her lips, and once you make eye contact you swear that she winks at you. This literally could not be any worse, you think, unable to stop yourself from frowning.

“Does it have to do with this little thing?” Daniela purrs, taking a step towards you. Instantly both Alcina and yourself are tensing up. While your soulmate shifts in front of you, an incredibly faint rosy tint to her cheeks, all you can do is pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers.

“This ‘little thing’ is not your newest playtoy, Daniela. Rather, they are my-” she hesitates, disliking the way the word feels in her mouth- “soulmate. I expect the three of you to behave, understood? At the very most, you are allowed to prevent them from leaving the premises, but even then I expect you to remain gentle. Have I made myself clear?” Alcina asks. Now she’s not the only one blushing, as Daniela looks so embarrassed that you wonder if she’ll pass out. Maybe now you’ll think twice about flirting with everyone you meet, you think, remembering the various rumors you’ve heard about her. For a moment, part of you imagines what your relationship with her would look like, were you to continue ‘courting’ her mother. Could this be a moment you could torment her with for life? Get some cheeky revenge for all the maidens who couldn’t risk it? A lovely thought, though one soon interrupted.

“Of course, mother. We will not lay a single finger on them, unless we have no other choice. Right, sisters?” Bela replies, turning to her siblings with an expectant look. Neither of them seem terribly pleased, but they nod, each giving their own verbal affirmations. All three spend a few moments glancing you over, reevaluating you now that they know who you are, appraising your worth. It’s not hard to imagine that they all find you lacking- at least in comparison to their mother. “Are introductions in order? We’ve met before, but I hardly know anything about them. It would be… nice to properly meet the newest edition to our family.” The way Bela says the words makes you nervous, and the way Cassandra grins only worsens the feeling.

“If you desire such, I see no reason to forgo such a thing. Perhaps the three of you could give them a tour? I must return to my duties, and I doubt they have seen much of the castle, given their… former occupation,” Alcina admits, softly. Was this a confirmation that you’d no longer have to spend every day working yourself to the bone? On one hand you were somewhat relieved, but you also regretted the possible loss of your preferred coping method. Worse, were you really going to spend who knows how long with the dreaded Dimitrescu daughters? They were going to rip you to shreds, at least verbally, you were sure of it. How could you ever meet their expectations? If they were anything like their mother, you would never be enough to satisfy them. Or at least that is what you assumed.

“I’ve seen a fair bit,” you interject, awkwardly, hating the way it brings everyone’s gaze back to you. Alcina’s lips twitch, as she fights back a frown. Evidently she didn’t appreciate you countering her suggestion.

“Please, we insist,” Bela fires back, a pleasant tone covering her thinly-veiled animosity. “I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time getting to know each other. You do want to learn more about your soulmate’s children, don’t you?” Something about the way she speaks makes you want to laugh. When you smile back at her, it’s without a hint of any placating intentions, rather a dewdrop of mischief. Bold of her to assume that you wanted to make her mother happy. After all, it was clear from her phrasing that this was a ‘test’, a ruse to ‘reveal your true colors’ to Alcina. But you were as uneasy about your part in this as Bela was, neither of you finding yourself a suitable match for Alcina. Despite the way she narrows her eyes at you, her mother is smiling again, glad that she had a way to keep you occupied for the time being.

“It’s settled then,” she says, moving to give each of her daughters a kiss on top of their heads. They giggle at the affection, looking rather proud of themselves. Then she turns to you, hesitating, clearly having the instinct to give you a kiss as well. Half of you wants to stand on your tippy-toes, expectantly, wondering if she’d do it (and how flustered it would make her). Instead, you pretend not to notice, accepting the awkward shoulder pat she ends up giving you. “I will see you this evening, for dinner. Do try to enjoy yourself. But don’t forget-” she leans in until her mouth is right next to your ear, breath tickling your neck- “behave yourself. I will not tolerate any tomfoolery, understood?” Alcina does not pull away until you’ve nodded, and you do not relax until the library door has shut behind her.

Except now you’re alone with her daughters. Wonderful.

---------------------------

Dealing with finances was not, to put it simply, Alcina’s ‘favorite’ activity. Although she employed someone to handle the majority of the paperwork, she made sure to go over it herself to ensure accuracy. There were many aspects to her business, being both legitimate and illegitimate, technically. One could never be too careful about their records. After all, failing to file tax returns had taken down Al Capone, of all people. Who was to say that such a mistake, or one in a similar vein, could not damage House Dimitrescu? Certainly it wouldn’t be enough to ruin them entirely, but it could lead to certain ‘nuisances’ bothering the village. At the end of the day, Alcina cared more about the impact it would have on Mother Miranda than anything else, even the possible decline of her household.

A nasty habit, really. Few knew the extent of her self-entitled devotion to the cult leader. The only bond that ran deeper was that she had with her daughters, who meant more to her than she could ever vocalize. Even then, she viewed them as a gift from Miranda, which in turn strengthened her love for the woman. Now that love leaked into everything she did. With a flourish of her pen, she signed away some of this month’s earnings. So what if she already ‘donated’ a large portion of her income to the village and its leader? Certainly this was a way to show the level of her devotion? Certainly Miranda would take notice, eventually? Praise her for it? Take Alcina’s hand in her own, thumb caressing her skin, eyes filled with a long-sought affection?...

The sound of passing footsteps brings her back into the moment, and Alcina stares down at the mountain of paperwork she’d yet to approve. With a deep sigh she readjusts her reading glasses, sets the finished document aside, then gets back to work. A part of her mind soon starts to drift to other subjects. To you, primarily. Would your affection be easier to gain? Steadier?... But could it, in any way, compare to Miranda’s? No matter how she tries to brush the thoughts away, they nip at her heels, circling her head like vultures. Only time would give her the relief she so desperately sought.

---------------------------

“So, don’t tell me you really think you’re my mother’s soulmate, right?” Cassandra says, somewhat grumbling, as you trail behind Bela. It’s less than five minutes into the tour, with the siblings having behaved so far, focused on actually showing you around. At her words, both her sisters started walking slower. Their gazes were still locked ahead of themselves. The way they positioned themselves, however, made it clear that they were listening. “Is it some elaborate scheme, hmm? Did you spend a dozen hours with the other servants, noting every last detail about her soul mark, before copying it? Do you really think that you’ll get away with this?” Well, ‘twas good to know who the most paranoid of the three were.

“Ah, yes, it’s all a great, horrible ruse. You’ve caught me red-handed, I’m afraid,” you chime, sarcastically. A hand goes to your forehead as you fake faintness. “I’m just so desperate to be scrutinized by yourself and your mother, to have my every movement watched, to somehow be less free than I already was. I simply… cannot… believe… that you saw through my bluff.” With that you give a dramatic sigh, pausing in the hallway to give Cassandra a judgemental look. If not for Alcina’s instructions to keep you safe, you’re certain she would have beheaded you on the spot. “I’m not claiming to understand the universe’s decision. But I’m also not giving up immediately, no matter how much the three of you scare me.” At that, Bela stops in her tracks, slowly turning to you. Instinctively you go to take a step backwards, only for Cassandra to catch you, holding you in place. Next thing you know, the oldest daughter is grabbing your head, staring you right in the eyes.

“Answer one question, and maybe I’ll make sure you don’t fall victim to some tragic, unfortunate accident. Can you see yourself loving my mother?” Bela asks, more intense than you’ve ever seen her before. Despite that, you don’t tremble, swallowing your fear long enough to reply.

“Honestly? I don’t know. She’s terrifying… and beautiful. Cruel to some of the maidens I’ve met… and loving to you three. I… I don’t know if I can love her,” you admit, gulping. “But isn’t that part of the point of trying? To find out? I am going to try, for both my sake and hers, to love her. To cherish her. What more would you ask of me? I cannot tell you how the days to come will go, whether or not your mother will enjoy them, or even whether she could love me. This is not a situation you can threaten into resolving the way you want it to. So let me go, finish the tour, and give me a chance. You owe your mother that much, do you not?” Soon enough the hands keeping you in place loosen their grip, and Bela turns away with a scoff. Honestly, you can hardly believe that your little speech worked. You aren’t given much time to celebrate, however, as the sisters quickly resume their walking. Before long, Daniela is speaking up between giggles.

“I like this one already.”

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #gremlin trio is protective #they're like #you're not cool enough for our mom #hey tumb please stop fucking up the order of my tags #this is the second time you've messed up my attempt at being funny

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brushstrokesapocalyptic · 3 years

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it’s time for the “overanalyzing one-off lines” show!

so the very first thing magnus says when he sees pit in chapter 2 of kid icarus: uprising is as follows:

“Well, I didn’t expect to see an angel here. Hope this doesn’t mean I’ve kicked the bucket.”

now, i’m not sure if you’re aware, but that’s a really weird thing for someone to say, and it’s even more weird that no one comments on it. pit and palutena go on talking about unrelated things, as if that’s a totally normal and expected thing for magnus to say.

now, if you’re like me, you probably also didn’t really react to this line the first few times you saw it. it’s the second chapter, kiu has a lot of slightly-odd lines which turn out to be foreshadowing. me, personally? my first thought was “oh, i guess angels are probably associated with escorting the dead to the afterlife,“ and then i moved on.

they’re not, though. that’s what reapers do. and there’s no way humans have these two races mixed up. just fucking look at them.

do they look anything alike to you??? no. they don’t. which raises the question of why, exactly, magnus said that.

now, we don’t know a lot about angels as a whole. pit (and by extension dark pit) is emphatically not the gold standard of angeldom. we can assume he looks fairly ordinary for an angel, seeing as no one has trouble identifying him as such. beyond that, though, a lot of what we know about angels comes from what pit isn’t. for starters, he can’t fly. and there’s something else, too, but i’ll get to that later.

before that, though, i’m gonna go through the various unsubstantiated comments made by people with a dubious level of authority on the subject. (incidentally, i sourced these screenshots from the wiki— much more convenient than trying to dig through youtube for every single random conversation.)

without any further ado! let’s get into it!

Angels as Messengers

Gaol: Aw, Palutena’s little messenger boy. And Magnus, it’s always a pleasure. (src)

in the specific context of overanalyzing magnus’s first line, this is an important sentence to pick out. magnus and gaol are both humans, both with presumably a fairly similar history as mercenaries up until gaol got stuffed in a suit of armor. but while magnus makes a weird comment about death, gaol calls pit a messenger.

and pit agrees with her!

Viridi: I wish I had an angel to do my bidding. It’s like having an intern.

Pit: I’m not an intern. I’m a messenger of the gods!

Viridi: Poor Pit. Don't you know that the definition of angel is "errand spirit"? (src)

this particular conversation is the most insight we get into angels as a whole, i think. viridi thinks of angels as like divine interns, there to do little tasks for gods, and palutena doesn’t exactly disagree with her. pit says they’re specifically messengers, which lines up with biblical mythology. i could see the traditional role of angels in the world of KI being exactly that, showing up to tell the humans what the gods have to say because the gods themselves are too busy being petty jerks to do it themselves.

The Angel’s Code of Conduct

Magnus: You go in fully dressed? Don't you at least want to change into a...swimming tunic or something?

Pit: Oh, no no no! The angel's code of conduct says that we must always be ready for duty.

Magnus: I guess you wouldn't be an angel if you didn't do things by the book. (src)

Pit: Hey! You know the angel's code of conduct! I need to be prepared at all times! (src)

another random little thing is the angel’s code of conduct. without a larger sample size, we can’t know if it’s a real thing or just an excuse to save on laundry, but apparently it’s against the rules to not be on call at all times. in pit’s case, the duty he has to be ready for is doing palutena’s dirty work, but it can easily mean just about anything— including, of course, being a messenger.

No Warrior

Chariot Master: But you are no warrior, angel. Tell me, why do you fight?

Pit: I fight for Lady Palutena. And I fight for the people under her protection!

Chariot Master: That's not reason enough for an angel. (src)

remember how i said there was something else weird about pit? the chariot master seems to think angels aren’t very prone to battle— or perhaps even that they’re actively opposed to it. this lines up well with the idea that they’re supposed to be messengers, peaceful go-betweens for gods and mortals. this does not line up well with pit, the adorable weapon of mass destruction.

and it also does absolutely nothing to explain the question driving the whole existence of this post.

you know what does kinda lean towards an explanation?

No Other Angels

Pit: Do all gods have their own angels, like you have me?

Palutena: No, I don't think that's necessarily the case. (src)

i said before that the Intern Pit conversation had the most illuminating information on angels. this is what i was actually referring to. on its own, it’s pretty innocuous, but it’s just as weird as the magnus line. shouldn’t pit know about other angels, seeing as he is one himself? but he doesn’t know if there are other angels.

the only angels we ever see are him and his clone. no one ever directly references the existence of other angels, they only make general statements about what angels as a whole are like— statements which clearly don’t apply to pit, meaning they’re not just extrapolating based on the one angel that definitely does exist.

the one time someone does comment on the hypothetical existence of other angels, palutena gives a vague answer to the tune of “no,” the topic is changed, and no one brings it up again.

let’s go over everything i’ve established about angels up to this point. they can fly, they’re peaceful messengers of the gods, and pit is the only one that seems to exist as of the start of KIU.

it should be pretty obvious at this point what answer i’m dancing around, if it wasn’t obvious from the start. pit is the only angel around because all the other ones are dead. the reason why magnus said what he did is that his thought process went something like this:

See an angel.

Think “Aren’t angels extinct? Is that a ghost? Am I a ghost? I sure hope not.“

Make a quip about that.

Move on with his life, because he isn’t dead and evidently neither is this guy.

i’m not gonna pretend i went into this post with the intent of any other conclusion to that mystery. anyone who’s bothered glancing over a plot summary for the original kid icarus can draw that conclusion. it’s certainly what i did, reinforced by fics by people who had the same thought!

the truth, however, is that this was all a trick to get you to read my analysis of the theoretical nature of angels as a race. now that you’re invested, i’m going to dramatically throw aside my cape and reveal my TRUE FORM: telling people that fandom consensus is wrong, and my ideas are cooler and better than everyone else’s and you should all throw roses at my feet and bow before your king.

(or just, y’know, take it as the subjective analysis that it is. whatever floats your boat.)

Hot Takes

the original kid icarus does not actually tell you about angels going extinct. here’s the wiki article with the full text of the backstory, just for convenience, so you know what i’m on about for the rest of this post.

so, the part of the story that i think gets misinterpreted is this part about palutena’s army.

Medusa led a surprise attack on Palutena's army which could barely fend off the attack. Palutena's army suffered major losses and was heavily defeated in the final battle.

specifically, i think a lot of people interpret said army as having been made up at least partly of angels. sure, in the actual game it consists entirely of centurions, but you have to take old NES games with a grain of salt. i know i don’t buy for a second that pit was part of palutena’s guard before the original game (he was just too goddamn young), there’s nothing wrong with reinterpreting things.

recall everything i established about angels already, though. this is the hot official lore, from the game everyone knows and loves. angels are messengers, and if the chariot master is to be believed, never warriors. pit is an outlier. palutena’s army consists of centurions, not angels. if medusa wiped them out, it wasn’t because they were fighting for palutena.

(and honestly, i don’t think angels are necessarily associated with palutena exclusively. sure, she’s got the wing imagery, and she’s got the one known surviving angel working for her, at least up until pittoo is born. but angels are messengers of the gods, not messengers of palutena. again, pit is an outlier.)

which all brings us to the real question of this post.

what the FUCK happened to all the other angels? why is there only pit? why does magnus act surprised to see a messenger of the gods, and make a quip about being dead, if not because angels are otherwise extinct?! WHO KILLED THEM, AND WHY?!

thus concludes the “over analyzing one-off lines“ show. see you next, uh, maybe at some point if i feel like it!

(also another thought i had but couldn’t find room to fit it in properly: the gods don’t really act like angels are all extinct, but i feel like that can be explained through the sheer scale of a god’s lifespan. if we assume they were wiped out sometime around the original kid icarus (even if not as palutena’s army) then that’s a whole twenty-five years. that’s a long time for us humans, but for a god, that might as well be last tuesday. “yeah, i know what angels are like. sure wish i could have one. too bad palutena’s got a monopoly on the one single angel that medusa didn’t manage to wreck.”)

#kid icarus #kid icarus uprising #the things i think of at five am #i am just yelling and spewing thoughts and theories and headcanons #if anyone has their own thoughts to add go right ahead i am dying to know whether or not i'm actually breaking new ground with all this #or if there's some vital lore i missed #or anything like that #i am OPEN for CONVERSATION

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sepublic · 3 years

Text

Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

…

SO! Onto other things first…

WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

(Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

WHAT AN EPISODE!

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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A guide to the 02 kids’ personalities and overall demeanors

I’ve already covered the deeper details of each 02 kid’s character arc and development throughout the series, but I figured I might dedicate a more specific post about the complexities of their outer personalities, and their behavior patterns on a day-to-day basis. 02 is the kind of series that doesn’t really spell out what the characters tend to do or don’t tend to do, or what boundaries they will and won’t cross, which means it can be a bit of a challenging task to track their behavior over fifty episodes and figure out the patterns. Fortunately, these characters are written remarkably consistently over said episodes, so we have a lot to work with!

Disclaimer before we continue: In general, all of my 02-based meta is specifically written for the Japanese version in mind, but this especially applies to this one, because the majority of the nuances of the demeanor and personality traits described below were not retained in the American English dub at all (please see this post for more detail). As a result, please understand that if you’re working from the perspective of having only seen that dub, and the contents of the below post sound completely different, that would be why.

Daisuke and V-mon

Believe it or not, I would say that Daisuke is actually the most difficult to nail the nuances of out of this entire cast. This is probably a really weird thing to hear when the usual fandom mantra is that he’s “flat” or “lacking in development”, but I think the deceptive part is that while he’s simple-minded and himself doesn’t think in complex terms, analyzing his behavior as a whole and how he approaches things actually involves a lot of very delicate balances, and getting that exactly right can be very easy to mess up. Daisuke’s not a rude jerk who looks down on anyone, not in the slightest -- but he’s also not a saint who can do no wrong, either!

I think the easiest analogy (which I’ve brought up several times on this blog already) is that Daisuke is like a puppy, but not just any puppy -- a tiny puppy that barks very loudly at anything it perceives as threatening (regardless of whether it’s actually threatening), makes its feelings very clear with obvious likes and dislikes, and can do some phenomenally stupid things in a bid to please others, but in the end means no malice and only wants you to be happy.

This is to the point where I’m just going to have to bullet-point this, because there’s so much going on at once:

Excessively emotional: One of Daisuke’s earliest profiles refers to him as having “an excessively large range of human emotions”, and really, a lot of the humor surrounding him has to do with the fact he has incredibly dramatic, overblown reactions to nearly everything around him. So if he gets a little annoyed or suspicious of people making fun of him, he tends to get really dramatic about being upset, and when he experiences only a minor setback, he acts like it’s the end of the world, and when he’s emotionally hurt, he sometimes even gets set on the verge of crying (you can especially hear this in Kiuchi Reiko’s delivery). Even Daisuke himself doesn’t tend to get caught up in it for too long and gets over things surprisingly quickly, so you can take it as him just constantly being too wrapped up in the mood -- but when it really is a serious situation, he gets truly emotionally invested in it, too.

Too easy to read: Because Daisuke wears his heart on his sleeve and is dramatic about everything, he’s awful at hiding anything. Any attempt at trickery or trying to disguise his intentions quickly blows up in his face because he’s too simple-minded and too transparent.

Not malicious: Daisuke only ever lashes out or gets angry at others when he thinks others are doing something he disapproves of, or when he thinks he’s being attacked; he’s very warm and kind to everyone otherwise (even in the earliest parts of the series, when he’s at his roughest, you might notice he’s very soft around Chibimon, as if understanding that his partner is now in a very small and delicate form and needs to be treated accordingly). In other words, Daisuke is very quick to get defensive, but he has no malice or reason to be condescending towards anyone otherwise, and he’s perfectly friendly with people even when they’d provoked him earlier (because he doesn’t really hold grudges). He doesn’t attack people without reason; even when he voices dissent against what someone is doing, he very rarely, if ever, insults a person or their character directly. Even when he’s trying to state his opinions (such as when he bids for the others to accept Ken), he never forces them down others’ throats and accepts that they disagree with him, even if he’s clearly not happy with their disagreement.

Easily critical and suspicious: Daisuke is a very bluntly straightforward and honest person, and he seems to get most set off by people who act suspicious; note how his early-series outbursts towards Takeru tend to be when Takeru’s acting evasive, and in Hurricane Touchdown, he catches onto Wallace’s shady behavior even before he starts flirting with Miyako (Daisuke’s own method of trying to seem attractive to others involves just “doing something cool and hoping it’ll impress others”, so he seems to dislike the concept of flirting as a whole). Because of that, he catches easily onto “things looking off”, so he tends to call it out (even if sometimes he’s overdoing it and there isn’t actually anything significant to be upset about).

Supportive and adoring of others: Other than the moments when he gets set off, fundamentally speaking, Daisuke likes other people, is perfectly willing to acknowledge them or heap praise on them when they do something awesome, and generally cares for their well-being. He’s easily defers to others when he understands they’re better than him at something, and he even has a decently realistic scope of his limits (see how he’s perfectly aware he’s likely to lose the soccer game in 02 episode 8, and figures he might as well enjoy the experience). This is even taken to its logical conclusion in the Kizuna drama CD when he “credits” his friends for giving him amazing and insightful advice when all of it was actually pretty ordinary stuff they’d done offhandedly. It also means that, given his penchant for getting emotionally invested in everything, he has a huge emotional stake in making sure his friends are doing okay, and supports them accordingly.

Deferential to seniors/elders: Tying into the above, you may notice that Daisuke takes a properly respectful and soft tone towards his elders and seniors in nearly all occasions, even to the point of occasionally using proper polite-form language around them. All things considered, Daisuke is a pretty well-behaved kid.

Constantly getting strung around: As much as Daisuke looks like he’s aggressive, in actuality, it’s very easy to get him to back down if you argue against him strongly enough, and since he has such a “the heck is that?!” attitude all of the time, you can see him constantly getting strung around and at the mercy of things happening around him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have enough will to put his foot down when it becomes a really important subject (especially in the second half of the series), but it’s very often when he’ll be talked down by others around him and shrink with an “oh...okay...” In fact, this is why a lot of his actions aren’t nearly as reckless as they might be otherwise; as much as he’s a bit hot-headed and likes to lead the attack, he also has a sense of self-preservation and intimidation when things look a bit too dangerous, and will only push forward in such a case when there’s something he really believes in at the other side of it.

Lacking in self-awareness and insecure as a result: While Daisuke doesn’t have any signs of persistent self-hatred (on the contrary, there are times he arguably comes off as overconfident), it also seems that he has practically zero awareness of how he himself is doing -- which means that he ends up rolling over like an idiot trying to get others’ approval and trying to impress them, even when it’d be clear to anyone else that he already has that approval. This also likely ties into the fact that he’s perfectly capable of acknowledging others’ accomplishments and skills (see above), so you might even think that the problem isn’t so much that he thinks he’s bad as much as he keeps comparing himself to people he perceives as being that much more awesome. (Perhaps symbolic of this, he apparently has a complex over being shorter than Takeru and Ken, despite the fact that he seems to be of perfectly average height for a kid his age.) It seems that his only bar for how he’s doing is dependent on everyone’s reactions around him, hence why his ridiculous antics are significantly less pronounced when he has proper emotional support and friends to keep him in check. It’s also important to consider that this applies to his apparent crush on Hikari as well; his crush mainly manifests in wanting her approval very badly, and it’s mostly visible in terms of him losing a ton of brain cells in her presence and bending over backwards to please her or impress her. He never actually says in words that he’s interested in her, nor does he ever show signs of intending to seriously ask her out, so it’s something that’s only apparent because of this behavior, and it’s very likely he hasn’t even seriously thought through what would happen if she actually accepted him in return. You can basically see this as an extreme version of the way Daisuke tries to get approval from everyone else, and this trait of his noticeably dies down whenever there’s more important things at hand, or when he seems to be in the midst of getting proper validation from those around him.

Simple-minded and pragmatic: What’s usually referred to as Daisuke being an “idiot” comes from the fact he doesn’t play well with complex thinking, tends to settle for very simple explanations or answers, and more thoughtful types like Ken or Iori will often have to fill that part in for him. However, because Daisuke is so simple-minded, he’s sometimes the most pragmatic person in the group, because he doesn’t overthink things or get principles of theory caught up into everything. So if Ken is clearly not showing any indication of doing bad things anymore and is actively working to help, Daisuke believes he should be allowed to help regardless of what he’d done in the past, and if they’re dealing with the situation of potentially having to kill a living enemy, Daisuke points out that hesitation would have resulted in even more casualties. In essence, in a situation where everyone’s running mental loop-de-loops, Daisuke will usually be the first one to snap them all out of it and go “uh? Guys?” Moreover, this trait of his makes him very good at spotting glaring threads or asking questions about the elephant in the room, because since he works best with things that are right in front of him, he can’t not notice it.

Enjoys the little things: Because Daisuke is so simple-minded, it’s very easy to please him (this is why his chosen career path is something as simple as ramen making). Daisuke likes his friends, and appreciates even simple things around him, so he’s happy with even simple pieces of happiness -- hence, why he’s fine with potentially losing the soccer game in 02 episode 8, because he’s ready to simply just savor the experience of getting to play against a respectable and formidable opponent.

Note that the main reason Daisuke never seems to bring up any of these issues with himself within the series proper is simply that he doesn’t seem to be aware of them -- he’s too simple-minded to understand what’s going on with his own behavior in depth, and hence, this is how he can say he’s not worried about too much by the time of 02′s finale, especially since by that point he has a proper support group that’s already helping him deal with most of his issues anyway.

Daisuke also has the roughest speech pattern out of any of the 02 group (similar to Taichi and Yamato in Adventure); he has a tendency to shorten words a lot and use “rough” variants of words (for example “-nee” instead of “-nai”).

Mischievous, friendly, and playful, V-mon is pointed out even by official sources to be much like his partner (far more so than usual), and it’s likely a byproduct of the fact that Daisuke himself is very honest and straightforward about his emotions and thoughts, and so since he has nothing to hide, V-mon is pretty much exactly like him -- with the major difference being that he’s a little more outwardly friendly and less likely to lash out angrily. So he’s effectively Daisuke without that very thin abrasive exterior, and because both of them are so like-minded and friendly, they get along extremely well (albeit with quite a bit of comfortable bantering on the way there).

Ken and Wormmon

Ken is the more intellectual type that Daisuke isn’t, and even after his stint as the Kaiser, it’s clear that he’s still quite studious and naturally interested in studying things. Looking closely at his style of dress and way of carrying himself (note how he lays down his chopsticks in 02 episode 36) indicates he’s also a rather tidy person in general. Being someone who’s capable of thinking things thoroughly, this makes him able to have a lot of deep insight into both intellectual and emotional issues, but because he takes things too seriously sometimes, he can sometimes come off as a bit overly stickler or insistent (note Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol, where he subjects Daisuke to a long-winded lecture about the history of Christmas, because, really, he’s a nerd), or lead himself down the wrong direction when he’s having a hard time being straightforward (such as when he comes up with some very flimsy theories about why Jogress might be dangerous in 02 episode 28).

In fact, Ken’s disposition could be considered to be the opposite of Daisuke’s in many ways; while Ken is much softer and more conciliatory on the surface, he’s actually much more assertive and strong-willed by default, and it’s made clear that, even after his reformation from the Kaiser persona, he could still be vicious if he wanted to, he just doesn’t enjoy it because he doesn’t like it and it goes against his belief system (note that he even offered to "dirty his own hands" in lieu of the other kids if push came to shove and Archnemon had to be killed in 02 episode 29, even though he clearly wasn't enthusiastic about the idea). In fact, he has a very strong sense of responsibility and believes heavily in making up for what he’s done -- recall that 02 episodes 26 and 49 involved snapping him out of it by reminding him that there were things that needed to be done, and that he himself still had many things he wanted to do that wouldn’t be addressed if he’d stayed fixated on his past. Thus, Ken doesn’t deny nor avoid anything he’d done, and he isn’t even all that prone to self-pity -- it’s just that his tendency to put too much responsibility on himself means that he also takes a while to accept everyone’s support, too, because he doesn’t like the idea of putting burdens on others.

Because Ken is actually one of the more straightforward people in this group and a fairly honest person (at least, as long as he’s not lying to himself), he might hold himself back a little bit in order to not be rude, but he doesn’t do it nearly to the same degree Takeru or Hikari would and is much more willing to speak his mind when he has an opinion he wants to voice or needs to sort out his thoughts on something. Conversely, he’s not nearly as cold as Iori can get when criticizing things (he’ll certainly be firm, but not as incisive). Most post-02 materials also indicate that he’s not above being a tease or even a little mischievous (see Armor Evolution to the Unknown, Diablomon Strikes Back, Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol).

Ken uses a speech pattern that’s slightly more casual than Takeru’s, but not nearly as rough as Daisuke’s. While anime will often have speech patterns substantially change between different personas of a character, other than Park Romi’s delivery of a more condescending tone for the Kaiser and a significantly softer one for Ken, nothing about his speech pattern is substantially different between the two personas (not even the first-person pronoun), indicating that, in the end, they’re really the same person after all, just manifesting the same personality traits in different ways.

Wormmon is affectionate and clingy, unfailingly loyal to Ken, and his biggest advocate during a time when Ken is trying to relearn how to love and accept himself -- meaning that he ends up very important to providing Ken the initial support he needed before Ken allowed other friends into his life. Wormmon isn’t all nothing but clinginess, though -- he has some insight about the weight of his experiences when prompted (02 episode 46), and in fact is more than capable of calling out Ken’s behavior when he’s being unreasonable or throwing himself into denial (see 02 episodes 27, 30, and 49).

Miyako and Hawkmon

Miyako approaches everything she likes with an attitude that makes her come off as constantly having bubbles and hearts around her. When she likes something, she says so. When she doesn’t like something, she says so (and she will go off when she’s on a roll; see 02 episode 14). In fact, part of the reason she so infamously voices her opinion on people being cute is, quite simply, that it’s her honest opinion. (Note that she never actually tries to ask them out or anything -- she just wants to make it very clear that they’re attractive.)

For the most part, she adores the people around her, and, like the others in the 02 group, she’s perfectly respectful towards elders. She also loves poking her nose in others’ business and trying to be as helpful as possible, which is good in that she ends up being a huge help to others, but also not good in that sometimes she overdoes it a bit (when Hikari calls her out for being a “handful” in 02 episode 31, the word she uses is one that literally means "a little too overly involved in others' business").

Miyako is the one who gets everyone up in high spirits by being cheerful, and whose cheer rubs off on everyone else around her (see her cheerfully leading the charge into the Digital World with her “Digital Gate, open! Chosen Children, let’s roll!” catchphrase). This is something the rest of the group catches onto very quickly, asking her to supply the “usual cheer”, and the later episodes of the series especially drive home the fact that her presence and antics bring happiness to those around her.

Miyako has a similar “chaotic, sloppy, and straightforward” demeanor to Daisuke, but there are some key differences. Unlike Daisuke, who’s bluntly honest about his opinions mainly because he doesn’t really hide things in general, Miyako’s opinions will be out of her mouth before she can control it. In other words, she has a nasty case of foot-in-mouth syndrome. In addition, while Daisuke tends to have a very thin skin and lashes out defensively out of instinct, Miyako takes things much more at face value and doesn’t blow a fuse nearly as easily, but because she’s significantly more assertive and aggressive, she’s much more prone to doing what she wants on her own whims instead of backing down to anyone. In fact, Miyako is significantly more emotionally sensitive in the long run, so while Daisuke tends to blow a fuse more easily, he’s also able to shrug it off and move on more quickly, whereas Miyako has a thicker skin, but when she does take emotional pain, she takes it much more deeply and harshly. She also tends to get overwhelmed easily by stress and panic, which makes her one of the more prone to running around in circles and doing frantic things in the midst of it.

One thing you might notice about Miyako is that she’s actually more critical of herself than anyone else in the group is; most of the time they act with mild exasperation at her antics but don’t tend to criticize her directly, whereas Miyako is very aware of her own shortcomings and is constantly either criticizing herself or comparing herself negatively to others (see: 02 episodes 10, 14, 18, and 31 especially). If she slips up and does something that stepped on someone else’s toes, it doesn’t take her long to realize that she’s messed up and want to do better. So while she generally tends to act the most in-your-face and aggressive, she also doesn’t necessarily want to be this way, and suffers from self-confidence issues and a poor opinion of herself.

Miyako uses a feminine speech pattern that’s a bit more casual than Hikari’s (she noticeably is willing to use the word anta for “you”, which has a bit of a connotation of being abrupt and in-your-face, especially with Daisuke). She’s also the most likely to physically manhandle things, both in the affectionate (hugging people) and aggressive (grabbing things and jumping on them in order to attack) senses.

Hawkmon is repeatedly referred to as being like Miyako’s “knight”, since he has absolute loyalty to her (in spite of her ridiculous antics often meaning he gets strung around by her) and is effectively in charge of minding her so she doesn’t get too out of control. While his overly polite and gentlemanly demeanor initially seems like a sharp contrast to Miyako’s aggressive and messy personality, you might also notice that, at their cores, the two aren’t all that different -- both are unfailingly loyal to others, and both also have a penchant for dramatic theatrics and being a bit overly proud of themselves.

Iori and Armadimon

The key thing to know about Iori is that he’s not stoic because he’s not feeling fervent emotions, but rather because he’s constantly holding them back (this is especially apparent if you look carefully at his facial expressions and Urawa Megumi’s delivery, where you can tell his facade is often “slipping” even when his words would indicate otherwise). Since Iori is trying to live by the ideal of being a model citizen, especially under the very formal environment he was raised in, he comes off as mature for his age, but it’s very important to not forget that, underneath all that, he’s still an impressionable nine-year-old child with the wide range of emotions and immaturity of one, and when he does emotionally fall apart, everything tends to burst out (see 02 episodes 16, 44, 47, 50). In addition, Iori is never condescending about the fact he usually acts more mature than the others; the impression is that he’s much more strict with himself than he is with others, and in fact still does look up to his elders in the 02 group even when they’re obviously a lot messier than he is.

The “need to be a model citizen” is something looming over Iori’s head at almost every moment, and it’s the easiest way to understand the way he acts in a nutshell. Iori is focused on the idea of “becoming a proper adult”, which means that he’s adhering to all of these principles because he feels they’re necessary to live a proper and honest life as per the formal manners that his family background trained him into. But like a young child who insists “you have to do this because those are the rules!” all of the time, Iori is over-applying all of this, and even his own grandfather advises him that he really needs to chill (02 episodes 5, 24). In short, he struggles with thinking flexibly and understanding that life isn’t all that clear-cut, because he’s a young child. Since he also tends to bring out these things in relation to “what my father would do/say”, it’s implied that he’s basing all of this off of having only hearsay to work off of in regards to what his father was actually like, to the point of aspiring to an impossible, saintlike version of him he’d created in his head.

Note that Iori’s “rules” have less to do with institutional rules (that would be more of a Jou thing) and more to do with self-imposed personal rules; for instance, he doesn’t mind sneaking into school during a holiday when it’s obviously not hurting anyone (02 episode 6), but he struggles with things like wasting food (02 episode 3) or not formally introducing himself to an elder (02 episode 5). So in other words, his adherence to principles has heavily to do with “the right and proper way to live” more than anything, and what he believes is the right thing to do in a given situation.

Iori’s journey in 02 is largely fueled by the fact that, as an inheritor of sorts of the Crest of Knowledge, he has a sense of “I want to know and understand more” whenever he sees something that makes him curious, but unlike Koushirou’s desire to learn more about the world around him in terms of its technical workings, Iori mainly wants to know more about people. The reason he begins to let go of his inflexible mindset is that he has the humility to understand that he still has a lot more to learn and understand, and when he sees behavior from others that doesn’t make sense, he does his best to learn more about it -- hence how his aggressive probing into learning more about Takeru allows them to reach an understanding and eventual Jogress, and how he’s able to eventually reassess his own view of human morality and emotions.

Iori sticks out in that he almost always uses the formal variant of Japanese in most situations (nobody else in the 02 group does this). However, formal in this situation doesn’t necessarily mean polite; Iori doesn’t believe in flattery and will bluntly state his opinion in said formal tone, and will be very cold towards something he sufficiently disapproves of or doesn’t have any respect for, which can make him even come off as passive-aggressive at times. (Noticeably, while he still asserts his own opinion, he does refrain from criticizing the others in the 02 group too much, presumably because he respects and looks up to them a lot as his elders, regardless of how chaotic they can sometimes get.) In addition, because a lot of his demeanor comes from him restraining himself, when his emotions are sufficiently pushed over the edge, he loses grip on the polite form and starts “lapsing” back into the casual one.

Because Iori was so young during 02, and because the events of its story ended up really upending his view of the world, the huge eight-year gap between 02 and Kizuna makes it difficult to predict certain things about his demeanor at the time of Kizuna (especially since his own voice actor commented on the difficulty of conveying the nuances of Iori’s character, thanks to only being able to work with the limited time frame of a movie that doesn’t put him in the kinds of emotionally drastic situations that push him to his limit). That said, everything we’ve seen of him in the movie itself and the drama CD makes reasonable sense; now that he’s much older, he comes off as having much better restraint on his emotions and coming off as genuinely calm, but he’s still not one for flattery, and you can still see very minor slips in his facade every so often.

Armadimon also initially seems like a sharp contrast to Iori in terms of demeanor, in that he’s much more casual and laid-back, and he’s indeed a huge factor in reminding Iori to chill once in a while -- but, much like Iori, he prods and asks questions about anything he’s curious about. This initially seems to be out of simple-mindedness because, being a Digimon, he doesn’t understand human society that well, but his very basic questions often end up snapping Iori back to reality in realizing that he’s getting hung up on things that don’t actually make practical sense. Urawa also felt that Armadimon fills in some of the void that Iori’s late father left behind, in that he provides Iori with unconditional love and helps guide him.

Takeru and Patamon

Takeru is the kind of person who seems to dislike major disruptions to the status quo, so he doesn’t say anything inflammatory that’ll rock the boat. It’s very difficult to get him to talk about serious topics related to his deeper personal feelings (02 episode 17, 35, Spring 2003), and even when it’s clear he might have more misgivings on the situation, unless it’s an urgent situation where it needs to be brought up, he won’t voice his misgivings too clearly for the sake of not causing trouble (hence why Daisuke is so unsure what to make of him in the early episodes of the series, because Takeru constantly fails to clarify his own position in favor of a “good for you” or “sure, you keep believing that if you want” attitude). This also makes him the most likely to awkwardly change the subject or try to distract with small talk, and it means that, even when he’s saying cheerful, pleasant things, it’s very likely there’s pain or uncertainty under that initial facade. (Note that while his suspicions of Ken during 02 episodes 25 and 27 aren't nearly as vicious as Iori's turn out to be, we learn that he's still willing to quietly accuse Ken of working for his own self-satisfaction in the latter episode, but he never brings this up to anyone but himself.)

Because Takeru isn’t necessarily doing this to be consciously dishonest, it does mean that he also has positive applications of this tendency to take everything in stride and keep the peace, because he ends up keeping the more extreme personalities in the rest of the group in line and acts as an effective mediator. You could say that he has a pretty high amount of tolerance and a capacity for taking everyone’s points of view in mind. However, since it’s also very difficult to tell what he himself is thinking, his use of this as a poor coping mechanism for his personal trauma leads to a tendency for him to suddenly explode in a mess of emotions whenever something gets too personal, leading to sudden conflict, and with others at a loss in terms of how to deal with him (the most extreme example being 02 episode 19, but also present in 13, 11, and 34). This “two-sidedness” is why it ends up having to be the more consciously methodical Iori who steps up to try and understand him better as his Jogress partner.

Fortunately, Takeru shows signs of becoming more straightforward in the aftermath, although you can see that he still has a penchant for mild flattery and “trying to hold back for the sake of not being rude” all the way up to Kizuna (but, again, this can’t be said to necessarily be a bad thing when it means he has a valuable skill as a mediator).

Takeru has a fairly neutral speech pattern that comes off as casual but not too aggressive or assertive (not as absurdly polite as Iori’s, but slightly less assertive than Ken’s).

Patamon initially still seems to be “immature” in the same way he was in Adventure, which initially seems to widen the gap in personality between him and Takeru, but looking closer reveals that the differences aren’t as big as they seem; Patamon seems to have gained a capability for slyness and active trolling behind his playfulness (see 02 episode 7), not entirely like Takeru starting to use his evasiveness in a teasing-like manner. Moreover, Patamon does actually seem to have gained a bit of proper maturity in the meantime; see how he instructs the Baby Digimon on convenience store food in 02 episode 3, and in general seems much more willing to take independent action in ways he didn’t always in Adventure. Noticeably, Takeru’s difficulty with his own convoluted feelings means that he can’t even have a proper heart-to-heart with him about it on the situation (most glaring in 02 episode 34, where it’s implied that Takeru would rather leave Patamon to be happy right now instead of bothering him about it), especially because he’s clearly having difficulty even working it out with himself. However, despite their ostensible differences in mentality, Takeru and Patamon have no difficulty getting along at all in 02, and, other than Takeru pampering Patamon a bit, there isn’t all that strong of an impression of them being so mismatched -- perhaps because, in the end, they really aren’t all that different.

Hikari and Tailmon

Taichi stated in Adventure episode 48 that Hikari has a problem where she's so selfless and thinking of others that she'll never speak up about her own problems. Hikari states in 02 episode 31 that she compulsively cannot speak out about her own feelings even if she wanted to, to the point she’s jealous of Miyako for being able to be more open (even if it means being overkill at times). As a result: if Hikari’s talking about “the right thing to do”, or something for everyone’s sake, or something that’s relevant to other people and what’s best for them, she will be extremely vocal and quick to act, and she’s not above even chipping in with criticisms (see: 02 episodes 19, 32, 44). In fact, she’s fully capable of being playful or toying with others if she really wants to (see how she casually manipulates Daisuke into calling a lunch break for everyone in 02 episode 6).

The moment the issue at hand is about herself, though -- her own feelings or pain, or something that might hurt others’ feelings (hence the presumable reason she dodges Daisuke’s affections rather than proactively doing anything about it), or something that would put a burden on others for her own sake -- she completely clams up and refuses to do or say anything, and when bad things start happening to her, she resigns herself to her own fate and concludes she can’t do anything about it. Hence, why she takes such a defeatist attitude towards the Dark Ocean swallowing her up in 02 episodes 13 and 31, and why it’s such a big deal if she even so much as asks for help. 02 episode 31 indicates that Miyako reaching out to her is an important step in breaking her out of her shell, and the Kizuna drama CD -- which has Hikari assertively declare something she personally wants -- heavily implies further that Miyako was instrumental to this becoming possible.

Hikari is compassionate for others to the very end, expresses pity for BlackWarGreymon as early as 02 episode 31, and catches on quickly to Ken’s feelings on himself in 02 episode 37 (and even back when she’d been more skeptical about him in 02 episode 25, she never seemed to have real personal distaste against him as much as she still wanted to make sure he was trustworthy first). But although she’s one of the most compassionate in the group, she’s also one of the most assertive in the group. This leads to something that initially seems like a paradox: she’s actually more fervent about the need to fight than the more aggressive Miyako is. Miyako is, ultimately, emotionally caught up in everything and briefly falls apart at having killed LadyDevimon in 02 episode 44 (even despite knowing how horrible of a person she’d been), but Hikari is the one who points out that there would have been more victims if they hadn’t. 02 episodes 25 and 43 had made it abundantly clear that Hikari didn’t like it at all, but she states in 02 episode 37 repeatedly that they need to prevent there from being victims -- meaning that she values the importance of protecting all lives, including those who would be hurt in the process, and thus has some of the more resilient guts when it comes to the prospect of fighting to save others. Again, her hesitation only comes into play at its worst when it has to do with herself; working to save others is a no-brainer.

Hikari uses a casual feminine speech pattern that’s less in-your-face than Miyako’s, but she’s still a bit more casual than she was in Adventure, when she used the more polite watashi instead of atashi. Interestingly, Tailmon herself seems to have mirrored this as well, presumably because now that she’s had more time to recover from her miserable life under Vamdemon, she’s able to enjoy her life a bit more freely. This means that, while Tailmon is still the most mature and put-together of the Digimon partners in the 02 group, she sometimes acts a little more casual and playful in a similar way to Hikari, and while she has a certain degree of stuffy personal pride (see how she wasn’t very amused at how frivolously the other Digimon were playing around in 02 episode 3), she’s still open to enjoying herself a little more freely. Hikari, for her part, becomes surprisingly like-minded with her during those times -- see them in 02 episode 12 -- and, as stated earlier, it’s not like Hikari isn’t up for making tough decisions when they’re needed, either.

#digimon #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #shihameta

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dracoladon · 4 years

Note

oh my god I absolutely ADORED lucid and born slippy, so the chance to prompt you with something is so so exciting!! as always, no pressure, but how about something about undressing each other? i've always LOVED the unlacing/undressing tropes in capri, and I bet it would be incredible applied to some lovely drarry. do with this what you wish!!!

sidjdjfnndkff thank you, and thank u again for this ungodly prompt. if there’s three things i love, they’re captive prince, drarry, and soft smutty tropes such as the one u hath so kindly bestowed upon me.

i accidentally made a fair few lucid references in here (prizes for all who can spot them, the prize is a poem about u as composed by me) so i suppose, if you’ve read that one and so wish, u can consider this part of the same universe. or smth ://

maybe i’m just hideously unimaginative when it comes to topics for my banter. anywho

rated e, 1732 words.

The thing about Draco’s work robes, is that they’re buttoned all the way up to the throat. Which, hm, doesn’t sound like an issue in and of itself. But becomes one, of sorts, when Harry is overcome by the need to unbutton them every time he lays eyes on pale, elegant throat, the column of it under stiff black fabric.

The thing is, that Draco looks so austere, so tightly laced, and the thing. Is. That Harry just wants to unlace him.

Draco is, of course, not austere. He’s in fact very, erm, flexible. Pliant. He told Harry once, when they first starting fucking, that his body reformed around Harry’s, and he liked the way he went malleable in Harry’s hands.

“I can’t do that with anyone else,” Draco said. Then frowned. “That didn’t make much sense.”

But the buttons. The buttons. The high-necked buttons. They give Draco a look of frigidity, that he’s not to be spoken to, touched (all in a very sexy, aristocratic kind of way, of course), and it’s so bloody hot that Harry’s taken to banishing his glasses and burying his head under a pillow when Draco dresses in the mornings, just to stop himself getting so hard he goes properly blind with it.

Draco asked him, the third time he burrowed under the bedclothes like a “demented ferret” (glass houses, Harry said), what he was doing.

“The buttons,” Harry murmured. “Want to undo them.”

“The buttons?”

“The buttons.”

“You sick, kinky twist, Harry Potter.”

Harry unearthed himself, at that. “Shut up? It’s not about the buttons, you horror. It’s about what’s underneath the buttons.”

“How touching.”

And then more teasing, and Harry had it up to here and said, “I’ll burrow again.”

So Draco sat next to him on the bed, robes all secured, and said, softly, but still smiling like a git, “Tell me, love. Why the buttons?”

“You’re just—they’re, you know. So—God,” and then Harry had reached out and rent the sides of Draco’s robes apart, the little cloth covered studs clattering over his polished walnut floors, and pulled Draco down on top of him, and fucked him right there until Draco was late for work, and later still because they’d had to spend half an hour charming the wretched things back into place.

Now, Draco says, “the buttons are still wonky from that little stunt you pulled.”

Harry can see only Draco’s legs (crossed over each other on the couch, back flat on the ground, because Draco feels it centres him to drape upended from the furniture at the end of a long day) from where he’s decanting the wine in the kitchen. “I’ve always been pants at tailoring charms.”

“Was that a pun?” says Draco, sounding pained. “I’m leaving you, if that was a pun.”

“But then who will do your bidding? Aerate your wine, iron your silk pants—”

“I’ll get a house elf.”

“—not finished, suck your brains out your cock, make you pasta with butter and cheese when it’s cold and you’re in a mood—”

“I’ll get a gigolo, too.”

“I still wasn’t finished,” Harry says, and Levitates the wine into the living room in front of him.

Draco says, “did you get the right glasses, this time?”

“You’re very funny,” Harry says, because after months of trying to educate Harry, Draco has finally accepted that his one true love is cheap beer, and sorted all the wine glasses he keeps at Harry’s flat into labelled little boxes. (‘This is a coupe, Potter. If you bring me red wine in it again, I’ll throw it at you.’ ‘These are for dessert wine — after dinner, before a good hard boffing.’)

“Why don’t you just go snag one of those fucking — sommiliars.”

“Sommelier.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, happy because Draco’s wearing his work robes and speaking French and looking all twisty, and it’s Friday night, and there’s wine and music from the record Draco put on, and Harry gets to untwist him.

“Did you know,” Draco says, arching his back into a luxurious stretch before rearranging himself right side up and plucking a glass from the air, “that Amantea is starting her own firm.”

“God. Really?”

“Quite. It’s a pro bono thing, evidently. You know she’s been on the exec’s for months about how they direct all their mandatory hours towards corporations, not, you know, people who actually can’t afford legal counsel.”

“‘Course.” Harry distinctly remembers being cornered by Amantea when Draco brought him along to last year's Christmas drinks — he was a decent few in, and Draco kept palming at him through his formal robes when no one was looking, and he thinks he may have agreed to some kind of public crusade in the name of her cause that he doesn’t remember the details of to this day.

“Merlin, that’s incredible. She’s just quit, then? Starting it from the ground up?”

Draco nods, sips his wine. “She asked me to come with her. Ford, too.” And then, into his glass, “Said yes.”

Harry chokes, and Draco smirks at him behind the rim while he expires into his Pinot. “Bastard,” Harry coughs.

“Mm,” Draco hums.

“That’s—fuck, hang on—that’s great, love. Draco, it’s brilliant.”

“Really?” Draco says, tangling his fingers in Harry’s. He can see now that he’s doing that Very Draco Thing where his eyes go a bit too wide and his tongue keeps darting out to wet his bottom lip. “Cause I haven’t quit yet.”

“Of course. I think it’s really, really incredible.”

Draco rolls his eyes, but his cheeks flush pink. “Any more of that, and I won’t go near your cock for a week.”

“I’m proud of you,” Harry says, smiling.

“Two weeks.”

He leans on his haunches, hooks a blond tendril behind Draco’s ear. “I’m so proud of you, Draco. Everything you are.”

“A month. A year! Harry,” Draco complains.

Harry snorts. Sits back. “Fine. So would you still be doing all the same work?”

Draco nods. “I’d still be a defence counsel. I’d just be, you know. Not getting paid. At least, not for a while.”

“Good,” Harry says. “We’ve got a horrific amount of money, between the two of us.”

“I’m glad you think so, because we’ll be living off your salary alone. What’s the going rate for darling of the Wizarding world?”

Harry walks his fingers over Draco’s knee, daubed in the heavy black wool of his robes. “Several million a year darling. Are you excited, then?”

Draco shuffles around so he can rest his back against the couch, keeping Harry’s palm pressed to his knee with his own hand as he moves. “Yes. Very. I love my job, but the fees they charge our time at are outrageous. I was always thinking, Mother and I wouldn’t have been able to afford that right after the war. Had we even been allowed a solicitor, but don’t get me bloody started.”

Harry thinks that’s Draco down to his bones. He gives cold little glares to people he doesn’t want to talk to, and shrinks in on himself like a turtle whenever Molly tries to hug him at Sunday lunch, and he’s selfish about stupid things, like letting Ron have the last of his chips at pub night.

And then he does things like drop lunch by Hermione’s office when he has afternoon meetings with the Wizengamot, or quit the job he loves so much, where he’s finally respected and secure, to work for free with Scary Amantea because he actually cares about the abysmal state of the Wizarding justice system, or rent out an entire Muggle theme park for Harry’s birthday, because he’d said, off handed, one night in Draco’s arms, that he’d always been left behind when the Dursley’s took Dudley as a child.

“You’re so nice,” Harry says.

Draco frowns. “Take it back.”

Harry says, “Won’t,” and gives him a good, slow kiss that tastes like wine. Wine from a proper glass.

“I have bad news, too,” Draco says into Harry’s lips.

Harry can’t think of how anything could be bad, wrong, when Draco’s mouth is so soft and so close, but he murmurs, “What,” anyway.

“No dress code, at the new firm.”

Harry pulls back, stricken. “No more buttons?”

“Less regular buttons,” Draco amends, and Harry places a protective hand over Draco’s clavicles.

“This is completely tragic,” Harry says.

“Dare I say, Potter, you’ll just have to make the most of them. While you can.”

Harry nods, leans down again, a hand either side of Draco’s hips, and kisses him again.

When he pulls back, it’s so he can get his hands on the reeling column of buttons that runs from Draco’s navel to his Adam’s apple.

There was a certain carnal appeal in tearing them off him that first time, but now Harry likes this. His hands on Draco, his mouth following. Pushing the silken studs through the loops, undressing Draco inch by milk white inch.

“Yes,” Draco says, as Harry licks and nips his way down every bit of skin he exposes. When Draco swallows, Harry feels the movement of it roll beneath his palm. When Draco’s legs fall open, Harry mouths at his hip bone as it shifts under his tongue.

Harry disrobes himself with slightly less worshipping finesse. Pushes the tailored cloth off Draco’s shoulders, helps him arrange himself underneath Harry, ankles clasped lazily at his back. Fucks him slow, and sweet, and two more times.

Really, Harry doesn’t know why the robes do it for him so utterly and completely. They look kind of like the type of thing a vicar would wear, which is also what Harry remembers thinking when he saw Draco in his dress robes at the Yule Ball (although now it’s more a very rich, very sleek sort of vicar vibe, and less of the fusty, I-took-a-celibacy-oath-at-thirteen-and-am- now-seventy-two thing he had going back then. With all the velvet. Draco looks much better in silk. Anyway.)

On that, it’s probably because it’s a reminder that it’s Malfoy who he’s with. Malfoy, not Death Eater, tormentor, but pale limbs, plush, pink mouth and naked vulnerability before him. It’s how far they’ve both come, and how Draco presents himself to the world — so far away from what Harry gets to see. What’s Harry’s. What’s theirs.

“Also,” Draco says, when Harry tells him this in bed that night, “I look positively indecent in black.”

#my writing #answered #theestarryknight #prompts #drarry

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undoundue · 3 years

Text

i don’t know anything except how stories go

the music isn't as good as i thought it would be

i'm not sure if i've taken enough drugs or too much

when i take too much, i get grandiose: big ideas. little follow-through.

when i take not enough, i also get grandiose, but i know it,

and i sound like a graveyard glass harmonica when

the wind passes through. when i take the right amount, i do not ask

whether i've taken enough drugs or too much.

instead i hallucinate that i'm a cicada, an elegant disgusting jewel

smithed by mommy nature to reproduce a tinny song,

and i'm grateful to my parents

and the 17 years i spent gestating

and this morbid cherry tree

because nobody buckles their tymbals like i. also, cicadas lack

the relevant receptors altogether,

so the dosing question doesn't apply.

(beat) say,

have you noticed that zoomers are really into columbo?

(you nod)

i've seen him on twitter twice lately, asking "just one more

question—which would you prefer as an afternoon snack?"

and there's a poll, cheez-its

or little debbie snack cakes.

the appeal, i think, is to a generational forgetfulness, to

a generation most in need of alarm clocks and aricept,

to the desire to see forgetfulness as a superpower, as an

equivalent to innocence, to be so impervious to

reality's demands. but haven't we been here

before? didn't milennials all die for the sin of inventing "retro

gaming"? and by the way,

did you hear the one about the guy who gave himself three-hundred

and ninety-one concussions, each time suffering retrograde amnesia

which knocked out his memory of his last pokemon red playthrough?

ah. ah yes. it is not a tale the jedi would tell you.

when i take too much, i get despondent. when i take not enough, i

get grandiose. but the line breaks are for the poet's benefit anyway.

besides, there are kids smoking brick weed in lebanon, we should be

thankful for what we have.

and hex maniac is pretty cute. her pupils spiral

counterclockwise,

going from out to in; in some of the fan art they go the other way but

you can tell those guys don't "get it"; the allure of a counterclockwise

spin on how you are perceived, to have your silhouette distorted

and your details properly misunderstood, to lose at games you've

never heard of it, to eat with chopsticks incorrectly,

to trip and fall and look at the sidewalk and say "thank you.

yes. i had grown complacent in my patterns, my

nucleus accumbens

was running on fumes; and i certainly wasn't expecting that!" and

mean it. i did this once. i was in a state of rare tranquility after

masturbating for sixteen consecutive hours (essentially a

performance enhancing drug for meditation—which is why,

in the tibetan olympics, strict no-fap is required for a week

before competition—and they take semen samples to be sure!)

so (you nod), when the buddha saw me

so grateful for life's misfortunes, he made a "look

at this fucking guy" gesture to ganesh and then said "look at this

fucking guy" as if the gesture wasn't enough. naturally,

i was offended, and besides i recalled the old koan "If you meet the

Buddha on the road, kill him," which i had read in a collection

of koans for children titled "If you meet the Buddha..." which

my Mom had purchased for me in the novelty gift section

of an urban outfitters in santa barbara ("Mom, why are you shopping

at urban outftters?" "son, yr mama just tryin' ta stay cool. say, you

heard of this MF DOOM cat?" "ugh! Mom!") and which had

such thought-provoking aphorisms as:

"If you meet the Buddha in an airport, buy him a cheeseburger."

"If you meet the Buddha at a dive bar, play him some new wave—the

Buddha is big into that shit." the idea being, you're prepared for any

circumstance, which is what buddhism is all about. so i did a

bunch of fast attacks; the buddha blocked; i said "shouldn't

it be all the same to you if i kill you?" the buddha said "it would,

except i want to get home and watch columbo, and i don't

want to wait to respawn." i said, "jesus. just—jesus." then the buddha

kicked me through a brick wall. everyone in the WeWork

screamed and fled, leaving their kombucha behind, and

for some reason the sprinklers went off. then, after the initial

impact, a lone brick fell (because of torque—force times the length of

the lever, remember) and hit me comically on the head, causing a

concussion. i said "guh."

yup, (you nod sympathetically),

i was feeling mighty grim. then it occurred to me: why don't i

play pokémon red? unfortunately, on my cellphone i only had

the romhack version, you know, where all the pokémon are allegories

for depression. so you got your depressionmander, depressioneleon,

depressionizard, and for pokémon where that doesn't work

they use it as a suffix, e.g. bulbadepression, ivydepression,

venudepression. also you can't leave the starting room and

your character moves really slowly. the indie gaming press

loves it. one of the features that reviewers single out is

that, instead of a lone Stand By Me reference, the TV in your room

goes line by line through Aguirre, the Wrath of God, except the

murders are replaced with pokémon battles and at the end

aguirre tries to command a horde of mankeys ("depressionkeys"),

which is a metaphor. dark stuff. it makes me think back on my youth:

lying on my child-king sized bed, masturbating to polyhedral

stellations, suffering from severe geometric dysmorphia as i

compared myself to the grandeur of those idealized forms—god, i

used to hate myself for those wasted hours. i mean, i still do, but i

used to, too. only after years of therapy have i developed a mantra

that eases the pain:

"i am mostly a cylinder.

i am mostly a cylinder." presto. you can get off to anything, even

loomis.

(you nod, hesitantly.) on saturday night,

i throw open the window and scream at the children: "you'll get old

too! an abstractome of brittle opinions even as your bumbling

homunculus drops the data you once used to back them up!"

the children reply "not necessarily, given the rate of advances in

biotech. also, no one cares, grandpa." they play soccer. my

mad pilgrim hair blows in the wind. i scream: "suffer! suffer! i am

omniscience!" they say: "oh yeah? how many fingers am i

holding up?" "four! five! four!" "it was five, you old fart." "the thumb

doesn't count as a finger! you should have a specified!" "OK, new

game: what sort of person am i?" "you are—you are—!" and so

i peer into their souls and know the answer, but i can't

find the words. the words do not come. i have forgotten them.

silently i draw away from the window. the children smirk, but only for

a moment. for they know i am right.

ah, to reveal the soul's heist, to be seen through by the omniscient

and powerless, what a delight! who among us would not cheerfully

kill the buddha when he's comin' through the rye? who among us

has not been blessed by the kind words of a stranger? and yet, we

shouldn't incentivize people to be strangers. society would collapse.

besides, we are no longer strangers to ourselves, you and i.

(you nod.) we will have much to discuss about that.

#thanks for reading #let me know if i gotta put a *keep reading* in these posts

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paperstarwriters · 3 years

Text

The arcana crew as beast-kin

Why? Because I wanna :P

General notes:

Everyone is based off of the card they’re associated with

Beast-kin tend to have magic that lets them look human (three forms; 1: anthropomorphic beast, 2: human with animal ears/wings and tails, and them as a normal human—I’ll be focusing on the animal aspects)

Just because they can do glamour magic doesn’t mean they can do other types of magic.

They still have their familiars, don’t worry.

If you wanna reference for the first form, just watch Beastars. The design is pretty similar (mainly thinking about the birds)

If you wanna reference for beast-kin in general check out the manga “Milady Just Wants to Relax” it’s what I’ve based the abilities off of and just beast-kin in general.

Asra

This sly fox :)

It’s probably because of my ties with anime but I imagine him like a multi-tailed fox

It’s purely so that you have more tails to cuddle and snuggle with.

You know how when foxes are in the snow they leap into the air then get their whole upper half stuck in the snow?

Well, when Asra hears something they want to catch, or they’re playing with Faust, they sometimes just... well....

It’s funny to see honestly.

Lowkey acts like a dog sometimes. They Loves the pats and chin scratches he can get and will whine until you give him more.

Sometimes you wake up to their tail(s) in your face. Good or bad, you decide.

In most folklore that have them, foxes aren’t exactly trusted, so often, Asra uses his glamour to make himself look like a human. However, when a customer runs unsavoury or maybe there’s just some mean brat that he wants to scare, his shadow still shows off his ears and tail(s)

Cuddles??? Cuddles!!!! Foxes are just so fluffy... Asra is no different. (In fact he might just be even fluffier)

Hate to delve a little into angst territory, but as a child since he was an orphan and all, Asra probably learned to basically act like a dog or a cat depending on the person to get more food, or to convince them that they’re a harmless beast-kin.

Nadia

Design wise, I love humanoid bird designs with their wings doubling as their arms and hands. Don’t ask me how this works logically right now we’re talking about crazy fantasy elements anyways, let me have this.

One thing I cannot get out of my mind is:

Nadia has her back to Lucio and he’s just talking and chattering nonsense. Then Lucio says something insanely stupid or offensive and whoever is talking to Lucio can see Nadia behind him just—

Whips her freaking head around 180°

It’s worse if she’s somewhere dark cause then you just see two red eyes coming into view as she slowly turns to glare at you.

Our queen is proud of her pretty talons, honestly probably spends a day sharpening them with Portia.

Goes out flying with Chandra at dusk if she has the time, and if you can fly (via spells, wings, a broomstick, etc.) you’re welcome to come along

Super accurate hearing. Honestly. It’s hard to hide an injury from Nadia even without her being an owl but she hears you Yelp in pain on the other side of the palace and she’s there in minutes.

Pretty problematic when she has headaches though :(

Preen feathers with her!! She’ll love having you card your fingers though her feathers making them less itchy. You’ll often help her preen after a bath, but honestly she’ll appreciate the sentiment anywhere but during an important meeting. It’s hard to concentrate when you’re providing her such wonderful affection.

Please don’t make owl jokes. She doesn’t like them. Sometimes she just avoids saying “who” so people don’t make that annoying joke. (It’s Natiqa’s favorite joke to make please spare Nadia the pain.)

“...and to whom will I be sending this?” “don’t you mean to “who” Dia?” *glare*

Julian

This is a happy raven ok? HAPPY. no birdie in a cage, ok?

The look we all know is probably his second form leaning to the first. Nadia’s would look somewhat similar

Crows & ravens are pretty dramatic birds. Reminds you of someone doesn’t it?

Idk if Edger Allan Poe even exists in this world, or any variant of it, but if it does... ooohhh if it does... this guy is totally gonna recite the poem in a dramatic flourish, and when he’s drunk you can sometimes find him chanting “ever more” same applies to any and all raven/crow themed media.

Screams. A lot. “Caw, caw b**ch” or “quoth the raven: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

Once convinced a bunch of birds to just go n take a dump on Lucio & his statue. He helped the servants clean when the work was dumped on them but they all agreed the bleat he made was hilarious(more on that later)

Shiny thing collector. Portia tried to get him to clean his stuff up but he has since bribed her out of it with a ball of yarn.

He and Portia make an odd pair of siblings, they’re still pretty much the same though. Crows are kinda just cats with wings.

“One day Illia, I’m probably just gonna eat you.”

*overly dramatic offended gasp*

All in good humor lol

Speaking of, their familiars are the same animal as they are!

So sometimes Julian scoops up Malak and says in a dramatic fashion (because however else would he say it) “I’ve found you my long lost brother! Oh how I’ve missed you!”

Portia does the same (more on that later)

Because his sister is a cat, Julian sometimes does a lot of cat-like things. (Case in point, he bleps. Tongue just kinda left out after yawning or something.)

Flies around with Malak often, like Nadia does, and sometimes carries Portia around with him. Will do the same for you if you want him to, sometimes if you don’t want him to as well. Expect to be grabbed from the ground and flown up into the sky at some point.

Bread. Boy loves his lobster claws but bread is a close second. “Aww yisss motha freaking bread crumbs”

Sometimes on a bad day, he just walks in dragging Pepi behind him who has her mouth latched on his tail

Portia

(If this were modern times) “you know, like, nya~!”

Look. Portia is so sweet to be around. But take that plus PURRING? And a soft as all frick FUR?

Honestly I think that sometimes when with Nadia has a bad headache, Portia purring is a great way to calm her down. You—you lucky MC, get to fall asleep to that.

She falls asleep on your lap and you are stuck there. Bound by a rule that transcends time and space. Her purring does little to aid the fact that YOU NEED TO PEE. The universe does not care of your internal tides, for your lover, who is also a cat, rests in your lap.

When she’s chasing down Julian for something stupid he often yells about being hunted. All in good fun!

“Mazelinka!!! Portia’s hunting me again!!!” “I wouldn’t be chasing you if you’d just clean your stuff!!!!”

Small boxes are her jam! Julian hates them, and like other birds doesn’t like closed spaces, but Portia loves em.

Good at squeezing into and out of tight places. Which is really helpful for sneaking around, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

Swishy swishy tail.

Cast a little light spell for her to case down. She loves it, you love it, Pepi loves it— everyone wins! (Except for the furniture she crashes into)

Yes, she has picked up Pepi before and yelled very loudly for Julian to hear (often after he’s made the joke of his long lost brother Malak) “Oh Pepi, you’re my favorite sister!!!”

On a bad day, Malak may be found in Portia’s mouth. He’s completely unharmed if only a little ruffled, but it’s gotta be a pretty bad day to find her doing that.

If Camio is in her mouth it’s same business as always. She won’t kill hem either but if Mr. Sh**bird doesn’t shut up she’ll make him shut up. You don’t even know why he keeps coming back.

Not all cats like cuddling, but like Pepi, Portia LOVES it. So long as you’re the right person and not someone unpleasant.

Please don’t step on the tail.

As much as she doesn’t like baths she still does properly was herself. She just really doesn’t like it when her fur is all wet and clings to her body. Do you have a spell to dry her off quickly? Please use it. Save her the misery.

Muriel

pretty sure he’s even bigger as a bear. Like, it’s probably because of the added fur but— woah... Big. Bear.

Big arse bear with scars is SUPER intimidating buuuuut you saw him sitting in the sunlight with Inanna once, just napping in the sun. He looked so peaceful and so dang fluffy!!

He enjoys headpats and gets very flustered at belly rubs. He’s seen you do so to Inanna many times probably kinda wanting you to do the same to him though he would never willingly admit it.

When you two get closer expect to spend some time with his head in your lap. Pat his head rub his ears, Inanna may get jealous if you don’t also provide her attention

Just don’t let him fall asleep there, he’s gonna have a sore back later and you’re going to have numb legs.

Hunting, swimming, carrying you, this boy can do it all.

Unlike his usual(cannon) self, Muriel probably doesn’t carve any bear statures. The only one he’d have was probably a gift from Asra. Carves birds, bunnies, foxes, and wolves instead. Does NOT carve goats. Never have never will.

Again I hate to go int angst but Muriel probably wants to get his claws removed somehow. It’d hurt and it probably insanely unsafe, but they were used as weapons before and its one of the things on him that everyone is afraid of. If he could he’d probably try to change his teeth too.

Show him that claws aren’t something to be feared. They don’t have to be a weapon. They help him climb and hunt food and sometimes to even carve wood. Like humans and knives, his claws aren’t bad or inherently evil, and neither is he.

Giant. Teddy Bear. You will be getting hugs and falling asleep with a Giant Teddy Bear.

He probably keeps in his mostly human form though, because he stands out less that way and he looks a little less intimidating.

Short little bear tail on his butt. Plz don’t touch, he’s going to be blushing so hard if you do (let’s be honest, that’s all the more reason to do so)

In “Milady Just Wants to Relax” Beast-kin are feared as monsters and I don’t think it’d do Muriel any good to have to live with that kind of fear from everyone. However, when you come around un afraid and eager to provide head-pats, but patient enough to let him get comfortable with it, Muriel will probably start using less energy to try and glamour himself.

Sometimes he’s so caught up with you that when you go to the market together he forgets to cast a glamour. While some do get scared off most of the people who you buy from are only a little surprised and take things in stride. They still treat him like he’s human, and he’s forever grateful for that.

If I could write a beast-kin version of his route, the moment you and Muriel meet Morga is probably when you first realize he isn’t human. And it’s because Morga pointed it out.

“Why didn’t you fight? As a beast you’re stronger than them.”

He knows you’ve spent time with Asra but he probably assumed they kept it hidden from you most of the time.

Just love him please. Platonic or romantic doesn’t matter, just give him headpats and belly rubs and boop his nose. Keep him assured that you aren’t afraid of this giant teddy bear.

Lucio

We know of both first and second forms. They’re pretty much cannon, but just not a ghost.

Which means you finally get to pet the fluffy white fur.

This also means his horns can do an irritating amount of damage.

Also he’s so much more noisier now

*loud stupid goat noises*

It’s fun to make him bleat a lot. He tends to bleat when embarrassed. If you’re topping him expect a bleat every time you pin him to the wall.

Tries to butt heads with EVERYONE. Please stop him, Lucio is the only prey animal in the lineup!

Seriously, how has he survived this long?? Muriel is a bear! he could just.... chomp.

not that he would obviously, but I don’t think Asra would hesitate after what he’s done to you and his parents...

Portia too for that matter, if she realized that Lucio had forcefully given Julian the plague, Lucio would be forever running from a feral cat.

I know he’s probably skilled in fighting or whatever, enough to take down various fantastical beasts, but stiiiiiiilllll.....

Is it obvious I dislike Lucio?

Grouchy bias aside, Lucio is really good at climbing. Like I’m pretty sure he’s a sword fighter so just imagine him leaping onto ledges in order to get the high ground.

Still uses eyeliner. I don’t know how since he has fur sometimes, but yeah, he still somehow uses eyeliner.

Honestly he probably keeps in a mostly human form or just entirely human form for that reason exactly. It’s just easier to look good when he’s more human.

But if you wanna pet his luxurious fur then he is all but willing to take on his goat form. In fact, if he turns into his goat form around you (which is always) he pretty much expects you to brush his fur or just run your hands through his fur. He will whine very loudly if you don’t.

Spare everyone else’s ears (especially Nadia’s) and just give him the head pats.

#the arcana #the arcana headcannons #the arcana portia #the arcana asra #the arcana julian #the arcana nadia #the arcana muriel #the arcana lucio #muriel the mountain man #muriel the hermit #muriel of the kokhuri #count lucio #lucio fontana #nadia stratinava #asra alzanar #julian devorak #portia devorak

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madam-melon-meow · 3 years

Text

Bisexual Kyoshi is something that can be so personal, actually

Panel edit by @flagellasturbation

[image I.D. : An edit of a comic panel of avatar Kyoshi. On the left in the image is a close-up of Kyoshi from the torso up, contained within an upside-down trapezoid shape. She wears her full battle uniform of olive and emerald robes, dark gloves and bracers, and a golden headpiece in a fan-like shape. Her eyes are the same emerald shade as her robes, she has black hair billowing to the left edge of the image, and her black eyebrows have been dramatically lengthened by black face paint. Her face and neck are artificially whitened with chalky makeup, she has black winged eyeliner, red eyeshadow that sweeps upwards to her temples and down the sides of her nose, and red lipstick outlined in black. This is the classic Kyoshi makeup. Her arms are crossed, the left arm behind her head pointing a golden fan away from the viewer, the right arm extended in front of her face, another golden fan pointed towards the viewer. She appears to be looking upwards and towards the right of the image. Above Kyoshi’s eye level and in the top right of the image is a comic text box. It reads in all caps: “even avatar Kyoshi- who by all accounts loved men and women- was unable to effect any kind of real progress.” The background art and color has been replaced with the Bisexual Flag, a thick horizontal line of pink on top, stopping at Kyoshi’s cheek level, then a thinner line of purple ending at her shoulders, and a thick line of blue that extends to the bottom of the image. End I.D.]

(If someone does not find my image I.D. sufficient, please let me know. This is my first time trying to make such a thing, as i am a lurker, not a poster)

Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee, page 99 (text copy / pasted from the b&n ebook version)

““Are those . . . fire lilies?” he said, a wide, knowing grin spreading across his face.

Kyoshi flushed beet red. “Stop it,” she said.

“That’s right,” Yun said. “The Ember Island tourism minister brought a bunch when he visited two weeks ago. I can’t believe you simply shred the flowers once they dry out. I guess nothing goes to waste in this house.”

“Knock it off,” Kyoshi snapped. But it was too hard keeping the corners of her lips from curling upward.

“Knock what off?” he said, enjoying her reaction. “I’m just commenting on a fragrance I’ve come to particularly enjoy.”

It was an inside reference that only the two of them shared. Rangi didn’t know. She hadn’t been there in the gifting room eight months ago while Kyoshi arranged a vast quantity of fire lilies sent by an admiral in the Fire Navy, one of Hei-Ran’s friends.

Yun had spent the afternoon watching Kyoshi work. Against every scrap of her better judgment, she’d allowed him to lie down on the floor and rest his head in her lap while she plucked deformed leaves and trimmed stems to the right length. Had anyone caught the two of them like that, there would have been a scandal that not even the Avatar could have recovered from.

That day, entranced by Yun’s upside-down features dappled with the flower petals she’d teasingly sprinkled over his face, she’d almost leaned down and kissed him. And he knew it. Because he’d almost reached up and kissed her.

They never spoke of it afterward, the shared impulse that had nearly crashed both of their carriages. It was too . . . well, they each had their duties was a good way to put it. That moment did not fit anywhere among their responsibilities.

But since then, whenever the two of them were in the presence of fire lilies, Yun’s eyes would dart toward the flowers repeatedly until he was sure Kyoshi noticed. She would try unsuccessfully to keep a straight face, the heat coloring her neck, and he’d sigh as if to mourn what could have been.

Today was no different. With a wistful blush on his own cheeks, Yun stared her down until her defenses broke and she let out a giggle through her nose.

“There’s that beautiful smile,” he said. He pressed his heels into the floor, sliding up against the wall, and straightened his rumpled shirt. “Kyoshi, trust me when I say this: If it turns out not to be me, I’ll be glad it’s you.”

~~~~~~~~~

Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee, page 210 (text copy / pasted from the b&n ebook version)

“You think you don’t deserve peace and happiness and good things, but you do!” Rangi yelled. “You, Kyoshi! Not the Avatar, but you!”

She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around Kyoshi’s waist. The embrace was a clever way to hide her face.

“Do you have any idea how painful it’s been for me to follow you on this journey where you’re so determined to punish yourself?” she said. “Watching you treat yourself like an empty vessel for revenge, when I’ve known you since you were a servant girl who couldn’t bend a pebble? The Avatar can be reborn. But you can’t, Kyoshi. I don’t want to give you up to the next generation. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Kyoshi realized she’d had it all wrong. Rangi was a true believer. But her greatest faith had been for her friends, not her assignment. She pulled Rangi in closer. She thought she heard a slight, contented sigh come from the other girl.

“I wish I could give you your due,” Rangi muttered after some time had passed. “The wisest teachers. Armies to defend you. A palace to live in.”

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow. “The Avatar gets a palace?”

“No, but you deserve one.”

“I don’t need it,” Kyoshi said. She smiled into Rangi’s hair, the soft strands caressing her lips. “And I don’t need an army. I have you.”

Psh,” Rangi scoffed. “A lot of good I’ve been so far. If I were better at my job you would never feel scared. Only loved. Adored by all.”

Kyoshi gently nudged Rangi’s chin upward. She could no more prevent herself from doing this than she could keep from breathing, living, fearing.

“I do feel loved,” she declared.

Rangi’s beautiful face shone in reflection. Kyoshi leaned in and kissed her.

A warm glow mapped Kyoshi’s veins. Eternity distilled in a single brush of skin. She thought she would never be more alive than now.

And then—

The shock of hands pushing her away. Kyoshi snapped out of her trance, aghast.

Rangi had flinched at the contact. Repelled her. Viscerally, reflexively.

Oh no. Oh no.

This couldn’t—not after everything they’d been through—this couldn’t be how it—

Kyoshi shut her eyes until they hurt. She wanted to shrink until she vanished within the cracks of the earth. She wanted to become dust and blow away in the wind.

But the sound of laughter pulled her back. Rangi was coughing, drowning herself with her own tears and mirth. She caught her breath and retook Kyoshi by the hips, turning to the side, offering up the smooth, unblemished skin of her throat.

“That side of my face is busted up, stupid,” she whispered in the darkness. “Kiss me where I’m not hurt.”

~~~~~

I include both these quotes because i've seen a few posts about the “gigantic lesbian” avatar, and although i am glad my sapphic sisters feel connected to Kyoshi (as well they should!), that doesn't mean i wish to simply be quiet on the matter of her textual bisexuality. I understand that not everyone has read her novels, nor has everyone read legend of Korra comics, but Kyoshi is *textually* bisexual.

Kyoshi had a loving romantic relationship with her firebending friend Rangi, but this does not erase her feelings for her earthbending friend Yun, even if neither of them were able to properly express it due to their respective “status”. (For context if you haven’t read, the masters believed that Yun was the avatar, and though he was bodyguarded by Rangi, and though Kyoshi was his servent, the three of them were simiar ages and thus close friends until the discovery of Kyoshi’s true ability destroyed their former lives). Hell, Kyoshi and Rangi do not become intimate until after fleeing their former lives. Who is to say what would have happened, had Yun not been captured by father glowworm ?

I know that there is a chance you will scoff at this, will write this off as comphet, accuse me of disproportionately weighting an almost-kiss with a true relationship, but these above quotes (as well as the comic panel from “the legend of korra: turf wars- part 1”) serve as proof that Kyoshi, “by all accounts loved men and women” (see panel directly below)

[image I.D. : the same comic panel as the edit above, this one without the bisexual flag edited in. Directly behind Kyoshi, within the upside-down trapezoid shape, is an olive to lime gradient, darker around her head and lighter near the bottom. Around and to the right in the image, outside of the trapezoid, is an aerial shot of buildings within an Earth Kingdom city, and what appears to be the lines of troops on the ground far below. the text box in the image is the same, but I have underlined the word “men” in blue, the word “and” in purple, and the word “women” in pink, to reflect the bisexual flag. End I.D.]

I am making such a big deal over this because Kyoshi is a massive figure, her long shadow cast over Aang’s life alongside Roku’s, and even before her novels came out there were often jokes about her “bloodthirsty” nature. I implore you to read the novels and see why Kyoshi believed in deadly justice at times, but also so you can see what a dynamic, loving, and beautiful character she is.

Some members of fandom have taken a “step on me” attitude towards Kyoshi, who has, even if the 7 feet tall thing is more fanon than canon, been explicitly described as “exceptionally tall”, and “towering” over others. This “strong woman who will break me and I thank them” attitude is one that butch &/or physically imposing sapphics, as well as trans women with similar statures to Kyoshi have expressed discomfort when applied to themselves and characters like them. I would love for more people to acknowledge her flaws and multi-faceted nature, that she is more than a “warrior goddess”, just as Aang is more than a living relic. Flattening her out to the easily-fetishable parts erases the depth of her character and the complexity of circumstances that led to the instances of deadly force.

There are very few bisexual characters in media, especially women, and especially in children’s media. Bisexual women have often been caricatured as loose, promiscuous, good for a threesome and not much else. (This is mot to say that i think any lesser of my fellow bisexuals who are proudly promiscious, nor can an actual live bisexual person be considered a stereotype for living their life, but media’s portayal of us as obsessed with desire is incredibly harmful). Knowing that a strong, beautiful, and important character in the avatar universe is a bisexual woman is amazing, even more so to have her first lady-love described in the novels with such care. F. C. Yee, the author of these novels, has my eternal gratitude. I sincerely hope that the new generation of fans, whether they are drawn to the cartoon or even the hypothetical live action show, will pick up these novels and discover the kind of bisexual character that I wish existed in my early days as a reader, and if a small fraction of them resonate with Kyoshi’s reciprocal on Yun and love for Rangi, then the world becomes a little bit brighter for it.

I mentioned her importance for the simple reason that Kyoshi IS important with the text of ATLA. As one of the avatars, she is one of the most historically important figures in that universe, one of the few avatars that Aang knows by name, and one of the only avatars to speak through his body. The fact that she has two whole novels to herself testifies to that effect, making her bisexual representation all the more important than a simple background character might be.

If or when the ATLA live action tv show occurs, we can expect some mention of Kyoshi. After all, there is a whole episode dedicated to exploring one of her missions, and the way that the descendants of her enemy have recolored history. It is my sincere desire that enough discussion is made about her canon bisexuality , that fandom trumphets it from the roof with as much force as crackshipping zukka, that when she does make it to the screen, there is some subtle nod in her bisexuality’s direction, even if it is something as meta as casting a bisexual actress for her. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

edit by @flagellasturbation

[image I.D. : An edit of a comic panel of avatar Kyoshi. This is like the first image, Kyoshi and the text box of the comic panel untouched, the background color and art replaced with the bisexual flag. However, this version has the words “by all accounts” blown up large and placed diagonally in the image, directly under Kyoshi’s face and stretching from one side of the image to the other. The bottom third of the image is similarly obscured, the words “men” , “and” , “women” blown up large enough to fill the panel and cover most of Kyoshi’s torso, as well as the purple and blue areas of the background flag. End I.D.]

#Avatar Kyoshi #Rangi #Yun #The Rise of Kyoshi #The Shadow of Kyoshi #father glowworm #bisexual

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freddiekluger · 4 years

Note

I am all ears for your season 3 cap's big gay awakening ideas 👀👀

alright, you asked so sit down and strap in

before we get started- a few details are recycled/repurposed from earlier headcanons/ask answers (characterisation is like that), and i came up with all this a couple weeks back, so any overlap with other peoples suggestions is totally unintentional! i’ve just been finding the energy to properly write them up as originally i riffed them with a friend late at night lmao

the captain: homo evolution

introduction (scroll down if you’re not bothered for the hardcore analysis/logic)

this isn’t necessarily what i think WILL happen as much as how i would do it. over the past two seasons of Ghosts, we’ve seen the captain’s main character arc being centred around him loosening up, from learning to value mike, alison, and the other ghosts more as equals than soldiers/means to an end to the season 2 finale, where cap is not only expressing an interest in flowers and fashion (distinctly un-soldierly pursuits) but joining the party and other men (the direct opposite of About Last Night, in which cap bah humbugs partying/’gay abandon’ and is left speechless by the mere presence of a mostly naked man). that being said, the captain is still the captain: his character is still centred around this need for rules and structure and he still finds his identity in the archetypal WW2 military man- all of his incremental moves towards a more ‘modern’ perspective have ultimately been made possible because, like Ben said on twitter, the captain isn’t CONSCIOUSLY aware that he’s gay. he has the underlying feeling that he’s different, he knows of his tendency to attach himself to specific men and form incredibly close bonds (and, as demonstrated by his attempts to hide them, is at least somewhat aware that that’s not the norm), but in his mind he’s written that off as merely “not being a ladies man”.

the captain is from the 1940s- it’s one thing for him to see and be supportive of a same-gender wedding in present day England where gay=legal unions, marketed doritos, and homophobia being still present but generally frowned upon, and another thing entirely for him to have to apply it to himself. we’ve already seen that the captain appears to be stuck in the past more than any of the other ghosts (”the war is over!” “is it, alison? is it?”- he also references the past more frequently than most of the others), and in his past sodomite gay=punishable by imprisonment and chemical castration, back alley hookups, and the constant threat of blackmail and violence. obviously, despite all this, there was a vibrant underground queer history taking place in England during this time & not all of the above is accurate, but it’s what cap would have seen, and the England of the early 20th century is denoted as being a particularly brutal period for lgbtq+ folks (the destruction of the first world war exacerbated rage and frustration, and lgbtq+ people weren’t the only gorup to end up on the receiving end of that, but i digress). this is basiclly just a really long way of me saying that the captain compartmentalising to that degree was, and to some extent is, a survival mechanism. confronting his homoseuxality means confronting what it means for a 1940s man to be a dreaded homosexual, and all of that directly conflicts with the image of ‘the Captain’ he’s built in his mind.

we’ve seen this in Redding Weddy, where the captain is aware that Havers means/meant more to him than was normal for a captain/2ic relationship (he does attempts to hide his affection- “i shall miss you, Havers. by which of course i mean we shall miss you “he left me, i mean he left for the front”), but is never able to fully verbalise WHY, and it only takes a series of increasingly dramatic prompts before he will even mention the idea of Havers, let alone begin to articulate their relationship.

all this just goes to prove that for the captain to properly ‘come out’, there needs to be an external inciting incident- he could easily have gone on shadowing attractive men whenever they visit and avoiding interrogating those feelings for another seventy years if Button house remained without alison and mike.

while at least julian, pat, and robin have noticed that the cap is not the most heteroseual of men (they’re the only ghosts who have visibly reacted when cap says gay shit), they all appear to have decided to just not mention it, which makes alison and mike our wildcards. not only has alison’s ability to see and communicate with the ghosts already connected them more to the modern world than they ever have been, alison, and mike by extension, has a personal stake in the wellbeing/general growth of the ghosts. happy ghosts=happy house, and like it or not some of them are even beginning to become friends. [i probably didn’t need to write all this like explaining my decisions, but i think figuring out the motivations behind everyon just develops the flavour and lets us have a sexy and accurate headcanon]

so,

the episode

while the captain might not consciously know he’s a fruit (derogatory), he is well and truly terrible at concealing the thirst (it’s not his fault things just keep slipping out!)- i love the idea of just having a supercut near the beginning of the episode that just shows that the captain has gotten even GAYER since last season, with slip ups becoming almost a daily occurence, but it’s getting to the point where it’s actually becoming a serious hazard. last week, he was supposed to be looking out for alison while attempted to put up blinds, but one of mike’s friends (who was over ‘helping out’, which mostly meant eating chips and covering himself in paint) walked through the room with his shirt off and paint handprints on the seat of his shorts, distracting the captain from realising that alison’s stepladder was about to give way.

with the increased presence of non elderly men in the house (the previous owner wasn’t exactly the life of the party) the captain is getting gayer and gayer, but he’s also becoming more and more defensive, while his brisk demeanour and need for control regresses to much more of a season 1 state (a subconscious attempt to regain control as things get close to spilling over). it’s not the first time his repression has almost slipped, he spent much of his life surrounded by soldiers after all, but with no war and no corporeal body he’s got almost nothing to distract himself from it. needless to say, between the safety hazards and the almost agressive defensiveness which derails any interaction, something needs to be done about the captain.

throughout the week, alison tries to find the opportune time to talk to the captain about what’s going on with him for everyone’s sake, but cap keeps masterfully evading any ‘deep’ talk with willful misunderstanding or just straight up dismissal (which at times gets a bit rude), and alison really doesn’t have the time- her and mike are caught up with managing the first official room redecoration and butting heads with a passive agressive delivery driver. insert general shenangigans, but at some point the captain’s whole “accidentally sabotage something by being distracted and then attack anyone who dares even look at him the wrong way afterwards” act causes alison to exasperatedly blurt out “we all know you’re gay! we get it! you like men! you can drop the act!”. there’s no malice or anything but, as we know, when alison gets run ragged things don’t tend to come out quite right.

everything falls silent (and mike is vaguely confused), and the captain just looks like a deer in headlights. as alison catches her breath, pat pipes up with a “it’s alright, cap, we don’t mind- now we can focus on the task at hand”. the captain sort of regains his composure and once again attempts to brush them all off with a scoff and a “i haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. if any of us is distracted, i-it’s... kitty!” but it’s easy to tell he looks rattled. most of his words don’t come out right, and after trying to blame kitty for their failures (she just had the unfortunate luck of being in his line of sight), he ends up doing an awkward little walk away which quickly turns into a full on sprint. mike, having finished processing alison yelling about gay shit to the air and kind of pieced together what must have happened awkwardly chimes in with “it’s okay to be gay!”- alison just pats him on the back (”yeah no he’s gone, mike.” “gone?” “sprinted away.” “huh”)

the episode continues with the captain flat out avoiding alison and the other ghosts to an almost funny extent as the other plots continue. it takes a bit for alison to realise why the captain reacted so badly (in fact, it’s actually mike who remembers that he’s 1940s ghost- “he’s probably just scared and taking it out on everyone else”). while thomas and julian vote for leaving the captain be so they can have some peace and quiet, fanny/pat/alison/robin decide someone needs to talk to him (fanny surprised everyone but after all, she got murdered because her husband had to live in secrecy- if talking to the captain will avert any further crises, she’s happy to make sure someone else does it for her). kitty’s still upset about being singled out, but she knows better than anyone that sometimes all you need is a friend- cue realisation no. 2.

with the captain avoiding everyone, sending in a regular emissary isn’t going to work. they need to find the least threatening person possible, with no agenda or history other than being there to help (a friend, if you will)- cue everyone looking at mike.

a quick offscreen briefing later, we see mike wandering out to the field where the captain has exiled himself- remember that up until this point, the captain was still in conscious denial about his sexuality, so being forced to confront it head on (and finding out that apparently everyone ‘knew’, which for cap would feel like an intimate invasion of privacy/forced vulnerability) would rattle him to the point of self-exile- he might not be able to run from his sexuality, but he can run from people. the thing is, mike can’t see or hear the ghosts, which means the captain can’t be frightened off by any expectations (mike actually talks to/at cap while facing completely the wrong direction, but consdiering the above point, this works rather well).

the captain was alternating between pacing, fiddling with his swagger stick, and sitting, but he unconsciously stands to attention as mike wanders over. he’s used to mike not being able to see them, so mike asking to sit down takes him by surprise, disrupting his instinct to flee again.

mike begins a little awkwardly (”mind if i sit?” *silence* “...i’m just gonna assume that’s a no. or is it a yes? yeah anyways i’m just gonna sit. so... heard you’ve been going through a rough patch”), and the captain almost scoffs and wanders off, but something about the clumsy earnestness in mike’s voice, the captain’s vulnerable state, and the fact that it’s been so long since cap has had anyone actually check in on him, that he stays put. he keeps standing and staring away from button house, and mike keeps speaking to the empty air to his left, and alison and the ghosts stay hidden behind their bush a few metres away, but at least the captain is listening. for the first time in weeks, he’s not on the offensive.

“i can’t actually see or hear you, so i’m just gonna talk and assume you’re listening. alison mentioned you have a habit of running away but, um, maybe don’t do that please?”

“my mate daniel's gay. uh, homosexual, you’d probably say- did you have gay when you were alive? did it just mean happy? anyway, he didn’t come out- that means tell people- until he left high school. we all kind of guessed it, the other kids at school gave him a real tough time for it, but he just squashed it down. couldn’t imagine that all the things people were shouting at him were true, so he ignored it. he’s doing good now though. got married to his husband last year, currently runs a bookshop. so that’s nice.”

it goes quiet for a bit. the captain hasn’t moved, and we’re still only seeing shots of him from the back, but there’s a little less tension in his stance than there was before. mike clears his throat before continuing.

“i’m guessing you’re probably pretty scared right now. i would be- i mean not that you should be, you shouldn’t, but coming from your... situation, i’m guessing it’d be hard. no one’s saying you have to be anything you’re not ready to be, but lots of things that are scary are actually not bad. airplanes, skydiving, clowns- well, not the clown from that movie, but he gives clowns a bad rep- i’m sure there are plenty of lovely clowns out in the world. still give me the creeps though.” the captain makes a captain-y noise of assent about the clown comment- he never liked them either.

mike glances over to the bush where alison and the ghosts were attempting to listen in (they could only catch every few words- mary got particularly concerned about why mike had referenced clowns), and the captain still hasn’t run away, so alison motions for mike to keep going. he starts telling the captain a story from his uni days. it’s got nothing to do with the captain, or being gay, or self-acceptance, or anything like that- it’s just a standard tale of comedic but inventive problem solving. the captain sits himself down next to mike (to his right, avoiding mike’s gaze, and still staring away from button house), muttering that his legs are getting a bit tired. he sits there for a while, and mike just talks. sometimes he circles back to the gay thing, sometimes he just asks the captain questions, before remembering that he can’t actually hear any answer, but then he keeps asking anyway, thinking that cap might need to talk. he doesn’t at first, but slowly he offers up a word or two. and then a sentence, and then maybe more- mike will accidentally cut the captain off, or leave the silence to long, but the captain doesn’t mind (it’s a nice reminder that nothing he says will actually go on to have consequence). at one point, mike gets out his phone to show the captain photos of his mate daniel and daniel's husband, not just their wedding day but casual photos- couples drinks with him and alison, dinners at each other's places, the bookshop.

alison and the other ghosts have long gone, and the sun is just about to sink below the horizon by the time the captain stands himself back up with the traditional knee crack and grunt. he looks at mike and nods, giving him a simple thank you before turning to walk (not run) back to button house, head held slightly higher and looking more relaxed than he’s been all episode. the captain has still got a lot to figure out, but at least it’s a start.

[i love the dramatic ending but the implication is that alison has to go and fetch mike bc he has no ideas cap has left and is prepared to keep going lol- also by no means is cap suddenly going to ditch his characterisation and become a yas kween gay right away, i didn’t go into the aftermath bc this is alreayd fucking LONG but let me know if you want follow up????}

EDIT: i've rbed this with the follow up/part 2 attached!

EDIT 2, much later: switched out mike's reference to his 'younger brother' to a school friend, since the christmas special confirmed mike only has sisters and we're all about accuracy here

#bbc ghosts #ghosts bbc #the captain #ben willbond #bbc ghosts captain #bbc ghosts headcanon #ghosts headcanon #lgbt #lgbtq #gay #mlm

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renegadewangs · 3 years

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Van Zieks - the Examination, part 2

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I'm outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I've missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I'm using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what's said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn't matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

It’s time to take a close look at Episode 3, The Runaway Room!

Episode 3: The Runaway Room.

We're skipping the first two cases, as they have no relevance to Barok van Zieks, and starting off here.

So Ryu is tossed into the deep. The Lord Chief Justice tells him that he’s basically the defendant’s only hope; if he doesn’t at least try to fight in court, McGilded will lose the trial and die for sure. (HAH… Good one, Stronghart.) So Ryu falls for this would-be motivational speech and heads for the courthouse where he finds out why McGilded doesn’t have a defense attorney to begin with; it’s because of the prosecution. No one dares to go up against Lord Barok van Zieks, also known as the Reaper of the Old Bailey, because all who he prosecutes are damned. This should sound familiar to anyone who’s played an Ace Attorney game before. ‘The prosecution has never been defeated before’ is the implication, which would initially lead us to believe Van Zieks is another one of those prodigies. Sure enough, Susato points out he must be very talented, to which McGilded replies that Van Zieks is not talented, rather, he’s cursed. This sets the mood even further. With words like “Reaper” and “curse” being tossed around, we’re sooner reminded of a prosecutor like Simon Blackquill, who was a convicted murderer wielding psychological manipulation techniques. Either way, with the grim atmosphere set, Ryu is ushered into the courtroom before he can ask any more questions.

As a sidenote, McGilded really scored some negative points with this remark:

Feels a bit softened compared to how fan translations tackled that line, but a nasty jab all the same.

So anyway, entering the courtroom we get our first look at Van Zieks and if the foreshadowing in the Defendant Antechamber wasn’t already bad enough, he honors his eerie reputation.

So far, he’s meeting the requirements then. He’s intimidating and as a wealthy white man, he’s perfectly juxtaposed to Ryu, the rookie from another country. Meanwhile, the first micro-aggression of this trial is actually uttered by the judge:

Which also makes narrative sense. Ryu’s more practical goal isn’t to win the prosecution’s trust. Heck, he could get through any trial just fine with Van Zieks’s dislike. No, what he needs is to win over the judge and the members of the jury. For them to also hold prejudice but put that aside in order to side with the truth is another important end-game here. So let’s continue. Van Zieks also has something to say here:

Initially, the remark about Ryu’s eyes might read as a typical racist jab towards someone from the East, but he is in fact referring to the way Ryu’s eyes are ‘swimming’ when he’s nervous, as evidenced by the next lines. “They shroud your fear, your doubt, your trepidation… They run wild, clinging to some phantom notion of courage.” Van Zieks is saying that while Ryu puts up a brave front, his swimming eyes betray just how nervous and unsure of his cause he really is. So really, he’s targeting the fact that Ryu is new to the courts. He did, however, make a point of tossing the word “Nipponese” in there when he didn’t need to, drawing attention to Ryu’s race in a derogatory fashion.

After the jurors are introduced, something else of interest happens. The judge points out that Van Zieks hasn’t been seen in the courtroom in a number of years. The judge had assumed that Van Zieks had renounced his fame, to which he replies with the following:

This is a very telling line. We learn several things. Firstly, Van Zieks had retired, and secondly, he doesn’t seem to think too highly of his title of Reaper. If he did, he would have gloated. To describe his reputation as infamy implies negative associations with this ‘curse’ that McGilded spoke of. Putting these two things together, one might conclude he retired because of this curse. When asked why he’s returned to the courts, he says that he’ll leave that to the judge’s imagination. So there’s hints of a backstory already being tossed in before the trial’s even properly kicked off.

Which it does now. So the opening statement happens as always and witnesses are brought in, but once it’s done Ryu interjects to say that he doesn’t understand the circumstances. ‘How could the witnesses have seen the inside of a moving carriage’? It shocks the entire courtroom and Van Zieks is the one to speak:

“-But you’re here in London yourself. Are you really so ignorant about our omnibuses? Tell me, my Nipponese friend… Have you even travelled in an omnibus?”

I have to be honest, I struggled to pinpoint just how I felt about these remarks. Sure, I can overanalyze this, looking at how the words “I’d read-” imply he doesn’t know the following sentiment to be true and therefore doesn’t feel confident enough to say something like “I knew-”... But it doesn’t change that he’s being scummy here. In a roundabout way, he’s still saying Japan is far less civilised than Britain and that Ryu is extra ignorant for not knowing about omnibuses when he’s in London. So basically, he gets scumbag points for this. But then there’s…:

Which is just a basic jab at Ryu’s intelligence. It’s the sort of remark we’d get from every single prosecutor. I think even Klavier would say this sort of line with a smile on his face.

But definitely more scumbag points here, because this was a direct attack in more ways than one. Particularly the word “stray” was uncalled for. CEO of Racism, indeed. Something very interesting happens when the knife gets pulled into the story halfway into the first cross-examination, though. When Ryu asks about it, Van Zieks replies with this:

He’s… actually being civil? (I doublechecked with Scarlet Study, and they are in agreement on the timid nature of this line, translating “yes, Counsel” as “Quite so”.) Instead, Van Zieks turns his attention to the fact that there’s an M on the sheath, directing all his offensive attitude towards McGilded. It gets even more curious when the last juror refuses to cast a guilty verdict, instead talking about what a good man she believes McGilded to be. Van Zieks says:

So he’s not only frustrated with McGilded now, he’s frustrated with the people of London for not knowing what sort of person McGilded really is. Van Zieks reveals he’s a dirty money lender who gained his fortune through corrupt means. He even takes the time to inform Ryu of this with the words “Your client is a shylock, sir!” Edit: I feel a need to address this: shylock is a word with antisemitic roots. It originally came from a Shakespeare play involving a very bad stereotype. It later evolved to have a more broad meaning basically synonymous to loan shark and I think that’s the context the localization means to use it in. There’s absolutely no indication of McGilded’s religious beliefs and even if there were, I highly doubt the localization would use that sort of slur. Still, it’s a very unfortunate choice of words and is sure to accidentally sour Van Zieks even more with some players.

With that, the last juror votes, the scale tips towards Guilty and Van Zieks assumes the trial to be over. He thanks the jurors for their work. Unfortunately, once Susato brings up the Summation Examination, Van Zieks gets very frustrated again. This happens:

IIII don’t know what to do with this line. On first glance, I didn’t think much of it and was even willing to consider it was a compliment. Then I thought it must’ve been passive aggressive somehow; that it’s the sort of thing he wouldn’t believe until he’d seen it with his own eyes. A friend directed me to the notion that it might be referencing a stereotype that ‘Eastern women are fierce’ because they were associated with, well, certain ‘paid services’. I don’t think I need to explain, I’m sure you understand what I mean. And if indeed that’s what Barok is insinuating, that’s a new low I never thought he’d reach. However, when you’ve finished the games and know that Barok was friends with a married Japanese man, it’s entirely possible that he’s remembering a story once told to him by Genshin Asogi. So this is either a bittersweet reminiscence or the most scumbag association he ever could’ve made, but I’m not sure we can ever prove which it is. Edit: As another option, it’s possible he’s referring to the Yamato Nadeshiko stereotype, if indeed it already held the ‘touch of iron’ aspect to it back in 1900. He proceeds to toast his hallowed chalice to “the enigmatic East” and to be honest, I’ve once again got nothing. All I know is that he once again drew attention to the defense’s race when he didn’t need to, so… Scumbag point. As a sidenote, in regards to the wine… I don’t count this as a humanizing trait. The same applies to the leg slam. These are animations meant to add some more lighthearted air and breathe more life into Van Zieks, so he doesn’t just stand there like a statue. They’re just quirks meant to have him stand out from other characters. So yeah, fun as the wine and leg slam animations are, they don’t count in the redemption requirements. Anyway, Van Zieks mocks the age of Susato’s book, saying that judging by its bindings it must be fifty years old. Considering the context of the conversation, this isn’t out of bounds. The defense is using ‘outdated’ information on the law, so he points that out. Any prosecutor would’ve done it like this. Simon Blackquill likely would’ve offered to shred that outdated tome to bits for Susato. Van Zieks does toss in a “Hmph, typical Nipponese” later though, which earns him one more scumbag point. Van Zieks continues to dismiss the Summation Examination, but the judge overrules him and allows it. Law is law, after all! And this is what I meant in my previous post when I said it’s satisfying to see Ryu use actual British law against Van Zieks. Ryu is using a perfectly legitimate technique to win the jurors over, and as Susato tells him, he can only do it by turning the jurors against one another with facts. He can’t appeal to them, he can only have them see sense. Which is difficult, because some jurors are more prejudiced than others:

… Yeah. Uh. Calling Ryu a “Dark Jinx” is pretty awful. Scumbag points for Juror No. 1! Meanwhile, Juror No. 4 keeps us updated on Barok’s actions throughout this trial:

Wow. Typical prosecutor behavior, though. Regardless, Ryu manages to win them all over in the end. With enough of the scales set back to not-guilty, the trial is allowed to continue, which leads to this:

Bye, hallowed chalice. A fun animation to keep things fresh and show us that the trial is about to take a turn. Once again, nothing new. We’ve seen prosecutors lose their patience before. What does interest me, though, is that Barok doesn’t direct physical frustration towards the defense. Remember: Franziska snaps a whip at Phoenix, Godot throws coffee at his head, Blackquill sends a hawk to attack the defense or uses that aijutsu slicing move, Nahyuta throws restricting beads… These were all direct physical attacks. Van Zieks, much like Edgeworth and Klavier, directs his frustration more inward and as a result he destroys his own property.

He succeeds in intimidating Ryu, though. Van Zieks explains that he kept silent, as is the norm during Examination Summation, but makes it clear that he considers it a charade all the same.

Van Zieks has been a pretty good gentleman towards the jury up until now, speaking to them politely despite that one remark about having their head in the clouds. Now that he’s seeing them ‘buy into Ryu’s stories’, as one might describe it, he’s getting frustrated with them. Maybe he’s even frustrated they’re choosing the defense’s side over his own.

He removes his cloak, entering what he says to be the next round of their ‘battle’. More typical prosecutor behavior, this. I’m not sure there’s an underlying thought to this, other than to indicate to the audience that ‘things have gotten serious’. When the next bit of testimony is going on, I noticed something odd. Both Fairplay and Furst testify to having seen blood on McGilded’s hands, to which Van Zieks says:

“... Reported that there was no trace of blood on Mr. McGilded’s gloved hands.” So in a way, by establishing this fact, he’s helping the defense and going against what the witnesses are saying. It doesn’t help the prosecution in any way at all.

The trial continues on, with Van Zieks uttering things like “My Nipponese friend” and “my learned friend from the East” and lord knows what else… I suppose to soften the harshness of the original wording a bit and make Van Zieks just a bit less dislikable? Edit: Tumblr user @beevean has pointed out that “my learned friend” is an actual term used in courts of law. There’s a tradition (also employed in British courts of law) that when addressing either the court or the judge, a barrister refers to the opposing counsel using the respectful term, "my learned friend". Of course, it can be said with an air of passive aggression and pretending to be respectful to the court while shamelessly disrespecting it is something Barok has always done, so the addition of “my learned friend” to the localization text is amazingly in-character. Then of course we have:

This is both a scumbag remark and foreshadowing. Naturally, those playing the game for the first time won’t recognize it as the latter and therefore take it as nothing more than a harsh blow. Things spiral even further out of control when he starts talking about how people who claim the island nations of the Far East have a learning and culture of their own use those terms ill-advisedly. He also uses the words “artless backwater” and really, this is the low point of the trial right here when it comes to prejudice. Van Zieks is just plain lashing out with these sort of jabs.

Eventually, McGilded is dragged onto the witness stand to testify about whether or not there was another passenger aboard the omnibus. McGilded admits that there was, and Van Zieks snaps at him some more for using convenient excuses. Ryu is forgotten here for a moment. The whole smoke bomb thing happens, Van Zieks confers with McGilded and Gina in his own chambers, then the trial resumes. McGilded testifies, then Gina testifies… The jury votes not-guilty, buying into McGilded’s story about protecting a poor young pickpocket and Van Zieks loses it. He slams his heel down on the bench, pointing out that this is why he doesn’t like the jury system; because emotions are ruling where evidence and facts ought to be paramount. He points out while the cubbyhole Gina had been hiding in was empty now, it had been full of the coachman’s belongings during the police investigation. Someone tampered with the omnibus. This is where things get interesting, because Van Zieks addresses Ryu:

He’s giving Ryu the benefit of the doubt here. He’s offering an option for Ryu to be truthful about this matter. And that’s curious, because any defense attorney would naturally say what’s best for his client- or so it’s assumed. It puts Ryu in a difficult position for sure, but for some reason Van Zieks put the question forward anyway. The game responds as follows:

For the sake of argument, I attempted all three options. So when Ryu says he didn’t look, Van Zieks says: “Hm… Perhaps I credited you with too much intelligence.”

So when feigning ignorance, Van Zieks is kind of a scumbag about it. He is correct in his expectation that any attorney worth his badge would thoroughly examine the details of the evidence, but he didn’t need to be such a jerk about it. Now, when outright lying and saying it was empty, Van Zieks instead says:

The lines are very similar, which is an interesting note. It adds a feel of these responses being 'rehearsed', in a way. Just a default for him to fall back to. But the real kicker comes when Ryu tells the truth and says it wasn’t empty. Van Zieks is actually speechless at first with no more than a “...!” Clearly, he wasn’t expecting Ryu to respond like this. Everyone in court is baffled, McGilded gets angry… Van Zieks is a bit rattled now.

“Your task is to defend the man in the stand. Why would you say something to compromise his position?”

So really, it seems as if Van Zieks had only ever offered the question to Ryu with pessimistic intentions. He too had assumed there was only one answer the defense could give and was prepared for just that with his silly little wine analogies, only to be shocked when Ryu defies his expectations. Ryu confesses that he’s not entirely sure on where he stands in the matter, to which Van Zieks replies with “... Interesting.”

So now the jury members are doubting themselves again, with some offering guilty verdicts. Van Zieks decides to honor the ‘Scales of Justice’ once more now that they’re back in his favor, like the hypocrite he is. Gina testifies, Ryu points out an inconsistency, Van Zieks takes that opportunity to turn the tables back in his favor by implying Gina is a liar… He passive aggressively thanks Ryu for saving him considerable trouble and whatnot with some more “my learned Nipponese friend” remarks in there… Ryu turns the tables once more by insisting the victim came into the omnibus through the skylight, Van Zieks demands evidence and points out that furthermore, if indeed such a thing had happened, the witnesses on the roof would’ve seen it. McGilded hops into the conversation to imply that the witnesses themselves were the killers, which sends the court into a frenzy. Both Van Zieks and the judge shift the responsibility of the accusation towards Ryu, even though he never said a word to directly accuse the witnesses. Kind of a douchey move. Barok even states that Ryu’s ‘command of the English tongue must be wanting’, since

Yeahhh, that's pretty unfair. McGilded was the one who dropped that implication. However, since the judge basically accuses Ryu of the same thing, it’s a narrative choice to warn Ryu he needs to anticipate where his reasoning will lead him. Fairplay and Furst testify, pandemonium ensues. McGilded eventually gets what he wants when it’s revealed the skylight can open and there’s blood in there. Van Zieks once again turns his attention to McGilded:

He knows McGilded is at the root of all this tomfoolery and evidence manipulation. McGilded is the real enemy here, in Van Zieks’s eyes. The conversation shows this by having Van Zieks point out that he’s well aware of McGilded’s involvement in dubious matters and that evidence is often ‘adapted’ to suit this guy’s stories. And now, once again, he turns his attention to Ryu. Once again, he’s giving the defense the benefit of the doubt:

The game gives you the illusion of choice here. If you choose to say it’s ‘out of the question’ that the evidence was tampered with, Ryu will refuse to say it out loud. If you say it’s entirely possible, Ryu will admit to that.

This is probably baffling to Van Zieks. It would’ve been so easy for Ryu to insist the tampering couldn’t have happened, but he doesn’t. The game won’t even let him. No matter what you choose, Van Zieks is clued in on the fact that Ryu doesn’t condone the deceit that McGilded is resorting to. But it gets even better, because a short time later, we get:

Another option to either draw attention to forgery, or to feign ignorance. Once again, I chose both options for argument’s sake, but having Ryu say he has no idea doesn’t get us anywhere. Susato will instead object to say it for him. With “I have an inkling”, Ryu says it himself. Van Zieks once again confesses, in his own words, that he’s caught off guard.

Ryu clarifies that he thinks the blood stain inside the omnibus is decisive evidence, but he can’t say for certain whether it’s genuine. McGilded loses it and by this point, is outright branding Van Zieks an enemy. Since the player at this point doesn't know whether McGilded is guilty or not, it leaves Van Zieks in a bit of narrative limbo. One might think: 'if the prosecutor is so intent on taking down a murderer, shouldn't we be on his side? Is he perhaps not as bad as he seems?' Unfortunately, McGilded points out that recollection and memories don’t matter, only evidence does. And… Well.

Which means they can’t rule on a guilty verdict and will have to let McGilded go. Van Zieks admits that he has no more witnesses or evidence to present. He’s out of options. As a formality, the judge asks the defense’s closing statement and we get one last option. Do we believe him to be guilty or not-guilty? When claiming he’s innocent, Van Zieks says:

It seems he means “abject” in the sense of “without pride/respect/dignity for oneself”, which… You know, is fair. By this point it’s very clear that McGilded is guilty, and since Ryu has already admitted that the evidence may be forged, insisting otherwise is indeed pretty spineless. Scumbag points to Van Zieks for continuing to draw attention to the fact that Ryu is from Japan, though.

Let’s instead just admit that we can’t say for certain McGilded is innocent. Unfortunately, we don’t see Van Zieks react to this, which is a bummer because this could’ve been very telling. The judge questions Ryu’s sanity (no joke) and McGilded laughs because it doesn’t matter; it was just a formality anyway. The judge scolds Van Zieks, saying that his case was flawed and it was his job to keep the evidence secure. Instead of objecting, Van Zieks just outright takes the blame for this and apologizes. Very interesting reaction, here. He stops pointing the finger to McGilded, he doesn’t attempt to accuse anyone else… He just admits his performance was flawed. Ryu tries to interject here:

(A badly-timed screenshot if I’ve ever seen one.) Ryu is making an attempt here to defend Van Zieks, the guy who has built up like 20 scumbag points by now. Ryu sincerely doesn’t hold a grudge against him. That’s very interesting. It doesn’t matter, though. The judge won’t hear of it, Ryu thinks it’s unfair, Van Zieks warns McGilded that this isn’t over and then we get the not-guilty verdict.

Hurray??? Profit??? It’s a victory that’s bound to leave the player feeling conflicted and jarred.

But after all’s said and done, we get one last cutscene to establish just how ominous Van Zieks really is. The omnibus is on fire, someone is inside and we know McGilded went into the courtroom earlier to investigate the omnibus in question. So really, by putting two and two together we can already guess what’s going on here. Van Zieks approaches the scene and watches silently.

It’s a good reminder to us that every defendant he prosecutes is ‘damned’ and he’s called the Reaper for a reason. Really puts the finishing touch on the eerie undertones of his character.

All in all, a pretty typical first time against a new prosecutor. Now I just want to draw attention to the fact that the first time we face Van Zieks in court… he’s actually on the right side of the courtroom and Ryu is not. Van Zieks presumably specifically returned to the court after those five years to target McGilded, as he knows about this guy’s shady reputation when it comes to ‘adapting’ evidence. Barok is 'cursed' in such a way that every defendant he faces is damned. So long as he stands as the prosecutor, McGilded can’t get away with his crimes. No matter how much forgery is done, the Reaper will go after McGilded and it seems Van Zieks was banking on this happening.

He likely also expected Ryu to have been bought off by McGilded; to say whatever’s convenient for his case. Turns out, Ryu is actually a man of integrity who’s invested in the truth and near the end of the trial, Barok has seen evidence of this. So what will happen next? We’ll have to play The Clouded Kokoro and find out! Stay tuned!

#dgs #dgs spoilers #tgaa #tgaa spoilers #barok van zieks

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akitokihojo · 3 years

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Monster - Chapter 5

chapter index

Inuyasha crouched beside the sleeping girl, tapping the back of his index finger on her thigh to wake her. The sun was rising. It had already peeked over the mountains, pushing away the shadows of night as fresh shades of pink and yellow welcomed in the new day. He could have let her sleep a little longer; he was sure she needed all the rest she could get to recover from what she’d been through, but he was bored, ready to go, and he’d already done more than enough for her as it was. Which meant, she needed to get up.

“Hey,” His voice was husky while he tapped her leg again, this time with the entire backside of his hand. Kagome didn’t stir, her deep, rhythmic breathing remaining the same. She was sleeping on her side, her hands tucked just before her mouth, and raven hair waving over her cheeks. If she was normally this deep of a sleeper, she’d better learn to pray before she dozed off at night. If she didn’t wake up at the slightest off sound, the crack of a twig, the whisper of sneaky bandits planning a surprise attack, she was screwed.

“Wake up.” Inuyasha tried again, applying a little more force into his tap that time. She moved her leg the slightest amount in response, but she didn’t rouse. The hanyou shook his head, setting a knee down as he comfortable kneeled to get a little closer.

In the morning light, her fair skin was accented with little hints of peach, her nose and the bits of cheek he could see blushed delicately. To himself, he wouldn’t deny she was sort of cute, and there was even a somewhat eager part of him that wanted to see what she looked like unharmed and undeniably happy. Would her cheeks tint deeper? Was her laughter contagious? Was her real voice soothing, or was it high-pitched and girly? Additionally, did she freckle in the summer? Were her shoulders sprinkled with those little, brown blemishes that would attract eyes and lips? Did she speak with her irises and the twitch of her brow, or was she expressive all over? Did she look as good in a gown as she did in pants? His mind was wandering now, going way too far, so Inuyasha snuffed out the remainder of his curiosity. None of those answers mattered. He didn’t actually care to know.

Though, beyond his control, he found his hand drifting toward her face, carefully and gently pushing the strands of rogue hairs away from her cheeks. Her hair was soft and just the graze of his middle finger had him wanting to run them all through her locks. Again, too far. Coming to his senses, Inuyasha stopped himself before tucking the strands behind her ear, settling on letting them rest along her jaw. If she’d woken up while he was touching her, it could have easily turned into an uncomfortable situation for the both of them.

Tired of being gentle, and wanting to end the waiting he’d been doing, Inuyasha pinpointed a common ticklish spot on the girl’s ribs. With his thumb and index, he gave a rough squeeze to the area that would be felt even through her brown bodice. Just as the girl heavily flinched, gasping hard and eyes shooting open, he bounced back some to avoid any absentminded reflexes she may have had.

Brown eyes stared at him confused, shifting into a rotten glare as he assumed she’d realized what he’d done. It was impossible to swallow his amusement, chuckling at her grumpy expression as she slowly pushed herself to sit up.

“Why?” She asked.

“You weren’t waking up.” Inuyasha shrugged, standing and walking away to kick out whatever embers still lived in the small pit he’d created the night before.

Kagome kind of sunk into herself while she blinked the sleep from her eyes. The crisp, fresh air of the morning was cold on the tip of her nose, her exposed chest, and even the flesh beneath the thin shirt she wore. She realized then that she was no longer covered by Inuyasha’s garment, and the chill was able to get to her that way. Even as she looked around her to see if she’d accidentally pushed it off in her sleep, she didn’t see it. He must have already taken it back before waking her. Maybe it was done in one of his attempts to rouse her. Maybe he’d never intended for her to know he’d covered her with it in the first place. Either way, she chose not to bring it up. The rising sun would bring warmth, and she’d be adjusted to the atmosphere in no time.

“How long have you been up?” Kagome asked conversationally, standing on her feet and taking a huge stretch. Her arms reached over her head and her feet pushed to the tips of her toes, her body creating space in all the tense areas that it needed.

“Didn’t sleep.” He stated, grabbing the medical kit she’d never collected and tossing it on top of her bag.

“Why not? Aren’t you tired?”

He sort of scoffed, making sure all of his shit was together before throwing the straps of his bag over his shoulders. “I don’t need as much sleep as humans do.”

“Right, right.” Kagome bobbed her head, absorbing the information. “But, you are half human, are you not?”

“Your point?”

“You need some sleep, right?”

“Occasionally, yes.” Inuyasha answered, a little annoyed by her excessive questioning. “Last night was not one of those times.”

Kagome nibbled on her lip slightly, shrugging her brows in meager recognition. She took his cue and began getting ready to head off, kneeling beside her bag and shoving the medical box inside. She reached for her canteen, opening it up to take a swig, the water cold and shocking in her mouth but still refreshing. Then, she shoved it into the side of her bag where she’d initially made its home.

“Your voice sounds better today.” Inuyasha nonchalantly commented, securing Tessaiga on his hip after readjusting everything on him.

Kagome hadn’t even noticed she was speaking smoother than she had been yesterday. It still wasn’t back to normal, per se, but she was hoping that was due to typical, morning grogginess. Then again, it’d be remarkable if she’d fully recovered within the span of a day. Either way, she felt it was nice of him to notice. She pulled the drawstring tight on her bag, then got the straps comfortably set over her shoulders. “Oh, I guess you’re right. How are my bruises looking?”

“Gross.” He chuckled. “Your neck isn’t looking too pretty, but it’ll fade in another day or two. It wasn’t horrible to begin with, so you’ll be fine.”

“Good to know.” She giggled. “I haven’t really gotten to look at myself. I wasn’t paying attention to it when I’d had the chance, so I really don’t know what I look like right now.”

“You look like you’re covered in dirt and there’s a leaf in your hair.” Inuyasha said, cocking a brow in amusement. The girl’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she glanced down at her hips, noticing the loose dirt clinging to her dark pants. Quickly, she dusted herself off, slapping her hand along her calf, her thigh, her hip, butt, waist, and arm to clean herself off. Then, she brought her thick hair forward, finding the dry, breaking leaf and pulling all the pieces of it out.

“How’d that even happen?” She grimaced, referring to the leaf. She’d been on her bag the whole night. Of course, she’d look like a total freaking mess in front of him. The last thing she wanted was to give him more ammunition to make fun of her before they parted. She preferred his nice side, and it was humiliating that she would walk right into any opportunities for him to tease her.

“Have you ever been on your own before, kid?” The half demon asked. The girl had grabbed her bow and arrows, securing the quiver over her right shoulder properly, and making sure her arrows were accessible as she reached back for them.

“Completely? No.” Kagome admitted, opting to hold onto her bow for the time being. “One time, my cousin and I ventured a little too far into the woods while training and got turned around. Had to camp out for the night and wait for the sun to rise so we could actually see any landmarks we recognized to get home. I know it doesn’t seem like much. Believe me, I’m aware the situation was extremely different than what I’m doing now, but it was something of a wake up call of how observant and cognizant you need to be when you’re alone in a dangerous, foreign area.”

“No kidding.” Inuyasha remarked, shrugging his brows. “Are you normally a deep sleeper?”

“No, not really. I usually wake up from any sound.”

It was sort of a relief to hear that. Inuyasha was more than willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for this morning. She’d had a rough past couple of days, so it was only natural that she’d be undoubtedly exhausted. Her body was probably demanding the rest by holding her captive in the unconscious state she was in.

“Alright, look,” He began, crossing his arms over his chest as he fully faced her. “What I’m about to say isn’t meant lightly. I fully think you’re in way over your head, and one false move will cause you to drown, so listen to me carefully. If you’re smart, you’ll turn around. Go home, kid. You’ve got a family and friends, and your place is with them. If you still want to see this thing out, whoever you’re looking for can wait until you’ve got a rounded and reliable party to back you up. I may not know the details of what you’re planning, but given how much you have told me, doing this alone is a death wish, and you know it. Given the stubborn wench I’ve come to know in the last day, though, I’m willing to bet you’re about to tell me that’s not an option. Would I be out money this time around?”

“Not this time, no.” Kagome shook her head, meeting his stare with matching fervency. No way was she about to turn around. No way was she about to call it quits just because he told her to, or even because this was difficult. No way. He didn’t know what she was capable of, but despite the harsh and critical tone he spoke to her in, she could tell he was only looking out for her. It wasn’t his place to tell her what to do, but she could see the compassion in the depths of it. “I’m not going home.”

“Fine. It’s your life; do with it what you will.” He rolled his eyes. “Here’s some advice: sleep with one eye open, always have your weapon at the ready, be quick, and whatever you do, don’t go picking fights with people. I’m sure you’re fully aware of this, but the world treats women a lot differently than it does men. As much as that would flare your instincts to demand equality, you need to be more cautious than righteous right now, understand? You’ve got tits, an ass, a nice body, and a pretty face. Men have eyes, cocks, no self control, and muscles to take whatever the fuck they want. Keep your head down, don’t bring attention to yourself, and do whatever you need to do to stay out of trouble. Go find whoever it is you’re looking for, and then go home. Do you hear me?”

Kagome gave him a nod of acknowledgment, but suddenly her nerves were disturbed. He was right; the world was a lot more unfair to women than to men. She could boast her ego all she wanted, declare that she stood a chance with her powers and experience, but the truth of it was, if she was outnumbered and caught off guard, Kagome could have a lot done to her that she wouldn’t be able to stop. She was tough, yes. She wasn’t entirely helpless, no. But, if something happened at the wrong time, in the wrong circumstance, so much could go awry. As blunt as Inuyasha had been, it was appreciated. There was no tip-toeing around the subject. Kagome was on her own, so she needed to bring her A-game.

“You were headed that way.” Inuyasha pointed in the general direction in front of him. “It’d be smart to stay near a water source, or at least know where the nearest one is. You got good aim?”

That was one thing she could definitely pride herself on, and Kagome smiled into her nod. “Yes.”

“Good. You’d be useless without it given the weapon you’re holding. You can’t afford niceties, so if someone threatens you, shoot ‘em. You don’t have to kill them, but if you nail them in the leg, they can’t chase after you.”

While Kagome knew the value of a life, and sometimes struggled with the general idea of ending one, she had killed before. Animals. Demons. She could do it without hesitation if hers or someone else’s life was on the line. It wasn’t something she enjoyed doing in the least, which was what divided good and evil, but some situations called for it, and if there was no room for stalling, then she’d shoot her enemy down. Kagome had been hardened to accept that when she was younger while she trained with her dad. He’d made it clear that if it was ever between your life or your enemy’s, you have to do what you have to do. You can pay your respects after.

“Anything else?”

She genuinely wanted to know, Inuyasha could tell. Kagome was listening to everything he had to say, collecting the advice to keep it all in mind. He admired that about her. She could be annoying, but when something important was being said, she didn’t let her ego take over like your average person would. She didn’t claim that she knew it all, or give the irritating I can take care of myself speech. She was paying attention, and asking if he had anything more to give before they went their separate ways.

“Yeah.” Inuyasha said, stepping closer to her. The girl neither flinched back, appeared uncomfortable, or moved away. She stood in place, her chin inching upward with his approach as her brown eyes stayed glued to his amber. Her natural scent was sweet, muddled by the earth and fire she’d laid so close to. There was less spice in what he picked up from her; more of a soothing, soft, floral aroma that attracted his attention. He’d intended to memorize it just in case, but even if he hadn’t, his senses demanded more. He hadn’t meant to become intoxicated by her pheromones. He merely wanted to remember who she was. Inuyasha was lucky he had a sharp mind, and it was easy to pull his head out of things and ground himself. He curled his fingers into fists, his claws slightly biting into his palms as he looked down at Kagome. Her face had colored more now that she was up and conscious, now that she’d rested, now that they stood so close, now that he’d given her the unwanted truth of what she could potentially encounter. Surprisingly, she didn’t look scared, and only held a rational amount of concern, noticeable in the subtle way her lips had parted. This was the last thing he was going to say to her. And, it was the most important. “Don’t let me find you dead anywhere. You’d better survive.”

Kagome’s heart gave a soft sputter and she wondered if he could hear it. They hardly knew each other, but his demand was so earnest. In that same regard, she was surprised by how much it had meant to her. She had no plans on dying before seeing her objective through, but a new fire was flickering to life in her abdomen. Now, it was like nothing was allowed to stand in her way. Inuyasha would never find her body; she wouldn’t let him experience that. He may not know where she was going, or what she was aiming to do, but in the end, when it was all over, she hoped word would get out that she was partially responsible for Naraku’s demise. She wanted him to know, however far off that may be from now, that she did it. And, she lived. Life for half demons would improve, and she wanted him to know that his impact was a part of that.

“I will.” Kagome stated bravely, giving a single nod of her head.

“Alright. Get going.” Inuyasha gestured with a small flick of his chin, amber eyes darting toward the direction she was to walk off in, and she graced him with a sweet smile. He felt warm in that moment, almost inclined to return the expression, but his straight face held as steady as it always had.

“I’d thank you for everything you’ve done, but you also kidnapped me.” Kagome said, taking several steps back before turning on her heel to face the direction she wandered in. Her grin only grew wider when she looked over her shoulder at him, a soft giggle on her tongue. “So, we’ll call it even. Bye, Inuyasha.”

“Ingrate!” The hanyou shouted after her, half annoyed and half amused. Cheeky brat.

Kagome only laughed harder, continuing on her way through the trees.

He must have traveled off in the opposite direction, because it was only small moments later that she stopped sensing his demonic energy. Kagome optimized her heightened senses, immediately following through with the promises she’d made to tread carefully. Her powers weren’t a curse out here, they were her friend. She didn’t have to hold back for the sake of her village, her family, or the fear that someone would see her while she trained, because this was what she’d been training for. This was the exact moment she needed to release the restraints she’d consciously formed out of weariness of exposure. By no means would she be careless, but by no means would she hold herself back anymore. With the vivid look she’d gotten at Kikyo last night, she didn’t have time for that.

Kagome had followed the river upstream for a few miles, stopping for a break as the sun was almost in the center of the sky. It was as good a time as any to reevaluate her plans. She went ahead and took off her belongings that weighed down her back, stretching her neck to the sides while she massaged the aching muscles of her shoulders. She reached into her bag and pulled out her water, chugging the contents of the bottle before sitting in the grass.

When she’d left home, and even before then, she’d always thought her first move would be to find Kikyo. Wherever Kikyo went was where she was supposed to go. Or, so she thought. That plan was now flushed. They couldn’t find each other, it was too dangerous. So, now what? Was she meant to go straight for Naraku? Or, was she meant to find someone who could help her improve on her powers? If that was the case, maybe that someone would be able to help her unlock skillsets she didn’t know she yet had. What were the odds of her stumbling across a well-educated conjurer, though? It wasn’t like Kagome could just go around asking, and she’d only ever heard of two who could potentially help. Both were unreachable. Kikyo was one, but obviously that was a no-go. And, through her father - who’d heard this on one of his many adventures - she’d learned of a conjurer who was extremely powerful. Midoriko. It took some riddle solving, but with Miroku’s help and a little bit of risky research, they figured out that Midoriko was a conjurer who lived before they were known as such. She was a priestess. She was never black-listed, and was looked up to for her strength and ability to contain evil demons. She faced a war, fought valiantly, and she lost - all well before Kagome was born. So, given that, Kagome was on her own.

Kikyo had said she needed to use her powers to figure out where she was meant to go, so she focused. Kagome shut her eyes, taking a series of deep, meditative breaths as she thought of different routes she could potentially take. One involved searching for help, one involved wandering until everything fell into place on its own, and one involved going directly for Naraku. Nothing quite sat right with her; there were problems will all options. The first ran the risk of dead end after dead end. She didn’t have a single lead to support her taking that path, and it wouldn’t be an easy task to find one to get her going. The second was a little too hopeful and ran the risk of wasting precious time. Though, she would admit, the option inexplicably sat higher than all else. The last sounded borderline disastrous. She didn’t feel ready for that challenge; not in the least. Even Kikyo had mentioned she had a lot to learn before she was ready to take Naraku on, so heading straight toward the monster was the most perilous choice she could make. If she went with the second, as blind as she’d feel on the route, she’d be able to train every step of the way. She’d shoot a hundred arrows before resting at night to make sure her aim always stayed deadly, she’d enhance her conjurer abilities in whatever manner she could, and eventually, she would find Kikyo and face Naraku by her side.

It worked best this way. Kagome didn’t even know where Naraku was hiding, so no matter what, she was going to be blind for a while. Ultimately, she could say she was after him; his fall was the endgame. There was just a rather large gap between where she sat now and where she’d be when that day finally came. The gap, Kagome felt, was nothing but a mystery. It looked blank. It looked like a space of nothingness that her intuition only told her she’d understand once she inevitably walked through it. She could say the adventure began two days ago, but truthfully, she felt it was barely beginning now.

The world didn’t seem any brighter now that she’d made a decision. Usually, it felt like a load off your chest or a defined moment of clarity shined like rays of light from the sun. This was nothing like that. Subsequently, her decision to figure it out as she went along, to trust the process so to say, was also a decision to remain in the dark until the unknown played out on its own volition. Although it was a clear day, Kagome looked at the world right now as if fog trickled over the forest floor, between exposed tree roots, and above the river in front of her. The metaphorical haze in her mind became physical as she let the anticipation of the unprecedented future overwhelm her. She allowed herself thirty more seconds to cope. Kagome acknowledged her anxiety, validated it, took three deep breaths that expanded her lungs to their fullest capacity, and then pushed herself to her feet. Sauntering over to the river bank, she lowered herself to her knees, taking an unclear gaze at her reflection in the slow-moving water.

As horribly frustrating as it was to not know what to do, to not know where she was going, to not know her next definitive move or even when things would fall into place, as horribly frustrating as it was to feel lost and like she held no control, Kagome could do nothing more in that moment but accept it. She went from having a plan to merely having a goal. How was it Kikyo seemed so sure while Kagome was nothing but confused? She felt so harshly ridiculed the night before that she couldn’t help but be worried every step she was taking, or thought she was thinking, was wrong.

“If you’re watching me, Kikyo, go away.” Kagome murmured, glancing over both of her shoulders to see if she’d spot that white, serpent thing Kikyo admitted to using in order to spy on her. What was it called, a shinidamachu?

A mouthful, was what it was.

“You told me you can’t help me,” She continued, eyes scouring the trees across the river. “So you don’t get to be upset with how things do play out. Go ahead and relay that message, floaty-snake-grave-robber. Let her know I don’t want to hear it.”

The interesting part was, though she didn’t see the shinidamachu anywhere, Kagome didn’t even feel ridiculous talking to herself at this point. There was still the possibility it was there, listening, and she’d said what she said.

Kagome gave a small, defeated shake of her head as her attention fell back to her blurred reflection. After a moment of trying to make out her features, she gave up. It didn’t much matter what she looked like; there was nothing she could do about it. So, she went off of how she felt. Her skin was a little oily, and it wouldn’t hurt any to freshen up. In fact, it would probably aid in revitalizing energy. A cool splash of water always helped.

Quickly, she went back over to her bag, seeking out the tie for her hair and pulling it back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Kagome yanked the sleeves of her shirt up as high as they would go, kneeling at the bank of the river and leaning forward. Cupping her hands, she dunked them into the cold water, bringing a generous amount up to run over her face. Over and over, Kagome repeated this, rinsing the oils from her skin, the dirt, the soot, the sweat. The chilling liquid dripped down her chin and neck, over her chest and into her shirt, drenching the top hem at her breasts but she didn’t care. It felt too refreshing to stop in time to prevent the dampening of her clothes.

Kagome slowed, making sure not to abruptly stop her movements in an obvious manner, but a twinge in her senses made it difficult. She was being watched. She’d caught that subtle, spine-tingling feeling that traveled down her back like the legs of an unwelcome spider. For a moment, she wanted to write it off as the shinidamachu, but Kagome had a gut feeling the serpent was undetectable. It wasn’t a demon, and it wasn’t an earth-bound creature. Frankly, she didn’t know its origins, but this was Kikyo. She kept a low profile, appeared to be a lone wolf sort of girl, and the last thing she’d do was use something obvious that anyone could trace back to her. No, these were eyes on Kagome. Eyes that refused to blink, eyes that violated boundaries.

She could feel demonic energy. Two maybe. One for sure. They weren’t approaching, though. Kagome didn’t feel their presence getting stronger; it was just there. Stable. There was distance dividing them. Were they literally just watching her? Maybe they were passing through, saw her washing up, and thought they’d get lucky enough to watch her strip down and bathe.

It took effort to bite back her groan as she rolled her eyes. Men.

It would be wise of her to get going. Lingering with them looming around was text book for trouble.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the mischief-maker, Inuyasha.”

“Oh god, is that what you guys are calling me?” The hanyou grimaced, turning to face the two idiots behind him. They’d been following him for a while now, so he was unsurprised when they finally popped out. It was honestly about fucking time. He was getting ready to expose them, himself.

“Among the other names we’ve given you.”

“Are they as creative as ‘mischief-maker’? I feel like I’ve earned myself a little more of a reputable nickname than that.” Inuyasha dully stated.

“How about, half-breed bastard?”

“A little better.”

“How about, dead?” The other suggested.

“Now, see, you lost me with that one. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t think you’re grasping the concept of nicknames; they’ve gotta be relevant.” Inuyasha pointed, giving the demon a wry grin.

“Believe me, it’ll be relevant by the time we’re done with you.”

“Can you at least let me know who the fuck you are first? Manners, boys. Manners.” He clicked his tongue. Steadily, Inuyasha’s hand found the hilt of his sword, not yet unsheathing it, but firmly grasping in preparation. He’d honestly never seen these guys in his life, but they looked like bandits. Acted like bandits. Smelled like bandits. The scent of unmaintained body odor, sweat, dirt, their own semen staining their clothing because they’ve only got their hands to do the trick, and the meal they ate the night before. Inuyasha crinkled his poor nose. Yeah, definitely bandits.

“Remember Gatenmaru and Garamaru?”

“I’m sorry, are those foods or something?” The hanyou inquired, confused.

“He’s playing dumb; don’t take the bait. He just wants to piss us off.” One said to the other, both of which appearing quite peeved for trying to ignore his question.

“I’m serious. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Gatenmaru and Garamaru!”

“Wow. Now that you’ve said it a second time, it’s all coming back to me.” He stated sarcastically.

“They’re moth demons! Bandit leaders! You killed -“

“Oh!” Inuyasha loudly exclaimed, a light flicking on in his mind. “Those two brothers that liked to collect women. Yeah, they’re dead.”

“We know. We’re here to avenge them.” One growled.

The hanyou snorted some, his smirk only growing. “Seriously? It’s been months.”

“Doesn’t matter how long it’s been, you bastard! This has just given us ample timing to join forces and devise a plan.”

“Join forces?”

“Yes.”

“Like, one bitch boy’s bandits working with the other’s?”

“Yes.” The demon seethed, hating the disrespectful remark but forcing himself not to comment on it and stay on topic.

“Hey, you guys remember they hated each other right?”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Which one did you work for?”

“Garamaru.”

“Yeah, he hated Gatenmaru for working with humans. And, now you’re working with humans.” Again, Inuyasha clicked his tongue in mocking disappointment. “What would Garamaru say?”

The two demon bandits looked at one another bemusedly and seemingly at a loss for words. He could see it on their faces; they were realizing he was right and most likely remembered the way Garamaru talked shit about his brother. Inuyasha was in his presence for all of twenty minutes and heard it all, so it was impossible that the bandits beneath him wouldn’t have. The bothers lived life apart, refusing to acknowledge the other’s existence, but ironically enough, they died together. Metaphorically speaking, of course. They committed identical crimes, and were charged as two wanted entities in one package. From the reward he’d collected from that job alone, Inuyasha still had plenty of money left over.

“Too late now.” One shrugged. “So, I guess it doesn’t really matter. You murdered both of them and fucked us all over by doing so. A lot of people want your head.”

“What, because you were solely co-dependent on a cheap demon? How is that my problem?”

“Because -“

“Rhetorical.” Inuyasha held up a hand to stop them from talking. “I don’t actually care. In fact, you should be thanking me. None of you are forced to call your masters ‘daddy’ while being used as a cock sleeve anymore.”

“Why you son of a -“

“Careful now.” The half demon smiled, arching a brow. Steadily, he pulled Tessaiga from its sheath, the sword transforming into its large and powerful state as each inch was freed. “You act too hastily and you wont be able to fight alongside your makeshift army. Then all your months of hard work will be down the drain. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

“Figured it out, have you?” A demon smirked.

“Aside from the fact that you told me already, yeah. I can smell them all getting closer. Some are still lingering far away, waiting for a signal I presume. Were you trying to plan a surprise attack?”

“Surprise or not, we didn’t much care. We knew you had some demon in you, so it’d be difficult to actually sneak up. But, we did know the best option was to overwhelm you.”

“Because, you’ve got quite the number on your side.” Inuyasha added, really taking in the scent of all he was up against. It wasn’t just a dozen or two. It was more like seven or eight. There was no fucking way all these men worked for Garamaru and Gatenmaru. The two brothers were a lower tier of demon. They weren’t wealthy, weren’t necessarily powerful, and their biggest skill was deception. Gatenmaru took full advantage of his human dependents, manipulating them, even scaring some into loyalty. It didn’t take a genius to determine that both demons made big promises to their groups; promises they didn’t get the opportunity to cheat their way out of. Therefore, leading to the bandits feeling robbed and blaming Inuyasha. So, who made up the rest of their army?

“You’ve got a sharp nose.”

“Who are the extras?”

“Like we said, we’ve joined forces.”

The hanyou shook his head in disbelief. “This is just the combination of Gatenmaru’s and Garamaru’s men? No one else?”

“No one else.”

“Seriously?”

“Garamaru had a huge following. I’m sure you didn’t know that.” The two goons looked a little too proud, but he couldn’t much blame them. They really succeeded in throwing him for a loop.

“Wow. Ho-ly shit.” Inuyasha remarked, pursing his lips. He was strong, but he was also one man. One man against about a hundred. This should be interesting.

Kagome pulled the tie from her hair, shoving it into her pocket while she continued walking, her raven waves freely flowing around her shoulders. She was growing irritated now, her huffs clenched in the back of her throat. The two demons were following her, their auras growing stronger as they stuck close so they wouldn’t lose her. Yet, they never came out of hiding. She was hoping she would have lost them at the river, but they’d been following her for over thirty minutes now, and Kagome was over it. At one point, she’d gotten so distracted by their presence that she’d mindlessly found herself on the trail she’d come from, walking in the direction she’d left Inuyasha in for who knows how long.

Would it be picking a fight if she called them out? Would she be asking for trouble if she didn’t continue to ignore it, or would she just be considered proactive? With their incessant stalking, Kagome was convinced they were bound to make an appearance sooner or later. Sooner rather than later would be favorable, though.

Her bow was still held tight in her hand, and she twitched her finger along the wood of the arch in debate. Should she raise it and instigate, or should she wait?

The choice was taken from her as she heard some rustling in a bush from behind. Kagome turned around to see the two demons sauntering forward, smiles worn on their aged faces. Actively, she showed no sign of disturbance, merely watching them with curious eyes.

“Hello, wench.”

She hated being called that by sleazy, unwashed men. It felt more like they were referring to her as a sex object rather than a woman.

“Hello.” Kagome greeted semi-pleasantly.

“What’s a girl like you wandering the woods alone for? Don’t ya know you could get lost?”

“Oh, no need to worry.” She played off, her tone sweet as she waved away the fake concern they presented. “I know my way around these parts. I was just actually running an errand, and now I’m on my way home.”

“What kind of errand?”

“My grandma makes fruit baskets. I was out delivering one for her.”

“I’ve never known the fruit basket industry to be very dangerous.” One called her bluff, gesturing to the bow in her hands and the arrows on her shoulder.

“Oh, this? You’re right, it’s not. I carry it just in case anything out of the norm ever arises. For instance, two strange men follow me in the woods for over a mile and start harassing me. Wouldn’t want to be defenseless.” She replied, appearing unfazed.

The two chuckled, their teeth sharp and stained. “Knew we were there, did you?”

“Your smell gave you away.” She slighted.

“So did yours. See, we’re on our way to see someone who we happen to know you’re in cahoots with. Figure you might want to join in on the happy, little reunion we’re about to have.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our good, old friend, Inuyasha.”

“Who?” Crap. Crap, crap, crap. What sort of mess was she involved in now? That no good, dog-eared, ruffian, middle-aged-man-colored-hair, jerk. She’s in his presence for a day and she’s got men tracing her thanks to their obvious bad blood.

Kagome’s poker face held steady while she swallowed her annoyance, brown eyes shifting back and forth to the demons standing just before her with an arm and a half’s length to spare. She’d take a step back, but she’d already tried that. They were persistent in keeping her within reach, and merely closed the gap she’d created.

“Don’t play coy. You’ve got his scent all over you.” One grumbled.

That’s right. Of course, she did. That’s how they must have found her in the first place. He’d covered her in that red cloth last night while she slept, so it was only natural that his scent would linger. And, be identifiable by those with sharper senses. What she couldn’t detect, the smell so subtle, they would with ease.

That didn’t mean she was about to go easily.

“All over… What smell?”

“The smell of a half demon.”

“Hm.” Kagome hummed, acting intrigued. “Does it smell nice?”

“What?”

“Do I smell nice?”

“No!”

“What a rude thing to say.” She criticized, appalled and shrinking back dramatically. It was a feeble attempt to create space, and thankfully, this time, they didn’t think to close it again, falling for her dramatics. “To a lady, no less!”

“You ain’t no lady.”

“Oh? What am I, then?”

“A half-breed’s whore. Which makes you filth.” The smile the humanoid demon wore was wide and proud, gleaming with the afterglow of his insult.

Kagome couldn’t even attempt to hide her expression then. The corners of her mouth grew into a grin, eyes dropping to the ground, her head following suit as she shrugged her brows in contempt. The smallest chuckle escaped her teeth before she inhaled and looked back up at the men. She ran her fingers through her hair, not caring how her bangs may have ruffled messily when she pushed them from her face, and slowly, carefully, but also daringly, Kagome’s fingers raked down the length of her waves until they met the nock of one of her arrows.

“Wow. Charming.” She said, pulling the arrow from its quiver. Naturally, the demons took her as no threat. Much like every demon she’d ever faced, all they saw was a young girl with a weapon that would merely leave a flesh wound on them if it actually managed to hit. This worked in Kagome’s favor. They could laugh all they wanted, mock her, point and guffaw, because that just meant they weren’t lunging to stop her.

“So, this Inuyasha guy,” Kagome spoke as their amusement began to subside. She hardly watched them, her attention minding their feet as she took her time aligning the nock with the string of her bow. The shaft of the arrow lightly tapped the grip above her hand while she got her fingers situated, knuckles clutching the nock just right. “What’d he do?”

“He messed with the wrong crowd, that’s what.” The one on her left stated, his tone telling her the smile still remained on his ugly face.

She finally glanced up, her weapon still held low. “Yeah, but what did he do?”

“He killed our leader, wench.” The one on her right said, and she could tell he was the more serious of the two.

“Ah, gotcha.” She nodded, sucking in her bottom lip. Must have been another bounty. Which meant Inuyasha was only doing his job and bringing down someone with proper justification. Of course, this was a guess, but it was an educated one. With the way the men before her looked and acted, they were up to no good and so their leader had to have been worse. She felt a little bad for mentally jumping on Inuyasha the way she initially had when she’d found out this was about him. Chances are, he didn’t know they’d be out for blood, and he definitely couldn’t have guessed that they’d involve her after one night’s encounter. “What’s that got to do with me, though?”

“Jesus, do we need to spell everything out for you? Are you stupid?”

“Quite the contrary. A stupid person wouldn’t have known you were following them since the river, wouldn’t have held a straight face while they lied, and wouldn’t have already figured out that your boss probably deserved to die without you having to tell me who they were or what they’d done.” She replied, stepping her right leg back as she leveled her weapon at them, the feather at the end of her arrow grazing her cheekbone lightly. “Yeah, I know who Inuyasha is, but your assumption is all wrong. I just met him yesterday, so nothing’s on a personal level. So, go ahead. Tell me what this has to do with me.”

“You’re one bold bitch.” The one on her left snarled, spittle flying out with his enunciation of the slur. “We’re going to use you against him. As we speak, he’s being attacked by our forces. We outnumber him greatly, so our victory is a given, but the motherfucker fights dirty with that sword of his. Bringing you along, using you as our pretty, little hostage will get him to forfeit, and make his death much quicker and easier.”

Kagome scrunched her nose, shaking her head as she hummed a negate. “Nope. Sorry, bud. That wouldn’t work at all. All I did was annoy the guy. The majority of the time I was with him, he had me tied up and held as his own hostage. Like I said, you’ve got it wrong; we aren’t friends.”

“I think we’ll take our chances.” The one on the right growled.

“Not interested. Being held hostage once is enough for me, thanks.” She pulled the arrow back another centimeter, pointing it at him to prevent him from taking a step forward.

“The fuck do you think you’re even gonna do with that?”

“Shoot you.” Her tone was calm, steady, the residing scratch in it temporarily abating as she kept her voice low.

“And, then what? You should know that it would hardly leave a scratch, and the only reason you’d be able to hit us in the first place is because we’re within five feet of you. We oughta kill you right here, right now for thinking you stand a chance. Who the fuck are you to raise a bow to us?” The demon on her left spoke, taking a large, threatening step inward, almost lunging. Kagome acted. It was a matter of time before something would happen, and she’d been counting down the seconds. The last thing she could afford to do right now was allow them to touch her. They do that, and she loses. They meant business, and she understood from the moment they stepped out of the bushes that they weren’t going to just let her walk away.

A rush of energy bubbled to the surface of her core, expanding outward and gravitating toward the head of her arrow. She could see her own power shining around the sharp edges, the shaft, the feathers, glowing lavender where she focused her strength. In one quick move, Kagome redirected her aim and released her arrow, the head plunging into the demon’s chest and disintegrating his body before he even had a chance to stumble backward. Her hand reached behind and grasped another arrow without missing a beat, aligning the nock with the string as she pulled it back and aimed at the demon to her right.

He was stunned, red eyes wide and angered. His lips, thin and cracked, were held open, choked sounds escaping his throat as he processed what had just happened.

“What’s the matter?” Kagome asked, claiming his attention once more. “Never met a conjurer before?”

“You wench! I’m going to fucking kill you! No, better,” He grinned viciously. “I’ll hand deliver you to Naraku and watch him rip your head off!”

“No, you won’t.” She said clearly. The threat didn’t faze her. His words were empty, and even if they weren’t, she wasn’t about to let him come near her. “You aren’t going to touch me. What you are going to do is tell me about this attack on Inuyasha. Your buddy said you outnumbered him. By how much?”

“Fuck off, bitch!”

“Try again.”

“Suck my dick!”

“You won’t have one for long if you keep this up.” Kagome swore, arching a brow and lowering her aim a few inches.

“You won’t do shit to me!”

“Won’t I? You saw what I just did to your friend.”

“I’m much stronger than he was.” He growled, hands furled into fists as he lowered slightly, almost in a crouch to leap at her.

Kagome made a loud warning sound, her knuckles tightening around the notch of her arrow as she pulled it back slightly. “Don’t. Move. You’ve never met someone like me, so let me give you fair warning as to what I can do to you, exactly. I can make it quick, which I’ve already demonstrated. I can make it slow, which you don’t want. Believe me. Or, I can use just enough power to torture you from the inside out. It’ll be extremely painful, and you’ll be begging for death. That’s a relief I won’t give to you until you answer me, though. So, which will it be? I’d choose wisely if I were you.”

“What the fuck do you want!? An exact number!?”

“You got one?”

“No, you fucking cunt!”

“Give me a guess. Are we talking ten? Twenty?”

“Hah! Yeah, right! More like eighty or ninety!”

Kagome’s brows twitched inward, lips curving in dismay. “That’s a bit excessive to take on one man, don’t you think?”

“Inuyasha not only killed our leader, but his brother as well, leaving both of their packs of men with nothing. Instead of going on with our lives and starting over, we decided to band together to get revenge first. Gatenmaru sickeningly worked exclusively with human bandits, and his reasonings were unknown to us, but be that as it may, they still had a healthy number of skilled fighters with the same thirst for vengeance. Not as much as we, the demons under Garamaru had. Garamaru was a powerful moth demon, one with a large and dedicated following. The vast majority of our forces come from my group and we’ll undoubtedly prove to be lethal against that half breed.”

“Wow. Inuyasha seriously pissed off almost a hundred people in one go? Not gonna lie, it’s a little impressive. Where’s this happening?”

“What do you care if you aren’t friends? You gonna try to save him or something? You’re not leaving this spot alive, and even if you manage to, he’ll be dead by the time you get there.”

“You’ve got a lot of confidence for looking the way you do, pal.”

“What did you -“

“I may not know Inuyasha well, but I’ve got a huge feeling the worst thing your guys will manage to do to him is leave a scratch or two. You’re the one who won’t be around to see it out.”

“No wonder Naraku wants your lot dead! You’re a sick, twisted cunt! I’ve heard your kind is supposed to be peaceful and pure, and here you are threatening to kill me.”

“Oh, shut it!” Kagome barked, growing fed up. Her body was warm, tingling, her spiritual power laying just beneath the surface as she kept the flames fanned and strong. She was righteous, and mad, and as the seconds ticked by, staring into the eyes of a monster who vowed not only to kill her but Inuyasha, her fingers began to shake. It wasn’t of trepidation. No. It was because her might continued to build. While she felt completely in control, she’d also never felt so powerful. “The only sick and twisted one is Naraku! You want to validate his bloodlust while you were just saying you were going to kill me, too? Nice double standards, creep. Take a look at the world we’re living in. There’s no such thing as peace and purity anymore. People are constantly living in fear, hiding away, there’s division, judgement, brutality, and an outrageous amount of darkness. In order to survive, you have to be adaptable, right? Killing you won’t take anything from me, I can guarantee it.”

He smiled sinisterly, licking his fangs. “If you’re as adaptable as you say, find the hanyou by your goddamn self then.”

“Fine. I will.” Kagome said, releasing her arrow. The demon stood no chance in dodging, succumbing to her power and crumbling to a pile of ash.

She turned on her heel then, running down the path she’d been on, the path she’d traveled down since she’d left Inuyasha’s side that morning. He went in the opposite direction, she could only guess. So, she hoped that if she just kept running, she’d eventually feel his aura and be able to use that as her guide.

A part of her questioned why it felt so imperative she run to him. Because, it did. He was part demon; he could handle his own. Against eighty or ninety, she wasn’t sure, but that’s where his demonic sword came to play. Right? Who had ever been up against such a large number and lived to tell about it, though? Perhaps that was it. It had to be. It was unnaturally unfair, and even if he didn’t actually need her help, she couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat caused by her concern. She had to see for herself. She had to see him walk away. She needed to make sure Inuyasha lived.

They weren’t kidding when they’d mentioned their goal was to overwhelm Inuyasha. Had they been watching him from afar? Studying him? His techniques? Tessaiga, if used right, could demolish a hundred demons in one swing. The thing was, he had to actually be able to swing the fucking sword.

He’d gotten one good wind scar in before they closed in on him, making it damn near impossible to use it again. With how close they were, Inuyasha was only able to block with his blade, occasionally slicing someone down, basically reducing the Tessaiga to nothing more than a standard sword. He needed room to attack. He needed space to thrust the blade and conjure a pernicious assault. But, it was all he could do just to defend himself at the moment.

There were too fucking many, and Inuyasha was getting more pissed by the second. Tessaiga wasn’t light by any means, but with his adrenaline levels kicking, he used it to block weapons with one hand while slashing bandits with the sharp claws of his other. He’d grab them by their throats and shove them away, usually into others so multiple fell back at a time. Inuyasha realized that he was subconsciously doing anything he could to create space. He was too reliant on Tessaiga’s power, and it was only holding him back. It was going to be his downfall if he didn’t think of something else.

Kagome had to stop. She had no choice. Her lungs were burning, aching for air, her legs begging for rest, and she clung to the bark of a tree as she tried to calm herself through her body’s frantic attempt at supplying itself with oxygen. Sweat was dripping down the sides of her face, over the bridge of her nose, tickling on its path down, and even getting her arm to cooperate to use her sleeve to wipe the moisture on her brow away was difficult. She was trembling, and she didn’t know why.

Maybe she’d gotten too far into her head, scaring herself into thinking Inuyasha wasn’t going to be okay. Maybe her brain registered the sprinting she’d been doing as a sign to secrete epinephrine to keep her going, maybe even releasing a little too much. Kagome felt so hot, and she couldn’t tell if it was from her spiritual power or the fact that she’d been running for who knows how long now. She wanted to say it was the latter - it made perfect sense - but she could feel her abilities just ready to spring free, so it really could have been both at play. Maybe that was why she quaked. Or, the incredible amount of demonic energy she felt from ahead was the cause. She’d been following it for a while, and it had become sickening.

It took moments, moments that consumed too much time on their own, until the rise and fall of her chest slowed to a more manageable rate. Her heart was thumping behind her ribcage, each pound felt and reverberating through her entire torso, but the blood being pumped no longer drowned through her ears. Now, what she heard were shouts and battle cries, curses and death threats, and the clashing sound of metal smacking metal. No wonder the energy was dense with malevolence. Kagome was closer than she’d thought. She was close to Inuyasha and a heavy, unwelcome feeling sank into her abdomen.

Mindful to stay alert just in case, Kagome pushed forward, her boots hitting the dirt as she ran in the direction her senses pulled her in, in the direction of the fight.

Tessaiga was knocked from Inuyasha’s hand, de-transforming the instant it hit the ground. Fuck. This was bad. He dipped the fingers of his right hand into the cut on his left shoulder, making the wound bigger in the act but that was irrelevant. Inuyasha made sure his claws were doused before swiping at the bandits, blades forming from his blood to kill the bastards that leapt at him.

There were too many. It didn’t matter if they were weak on their own, didn’t matter if they were insignificant in size. There were too damn many at once. It was like a swarm of ants taking down a bee. Alone, they were negligible. Together, they were dangerous.

Inuyasha had taken down a good portion, but he was growing tired and they just kept coming at him. He had good hand-to-hand combat skills, but they had weapons to one-up him. He was good at dodging, but there wasn’t much space to do so. He was bleeding, drenched in sweat, breathing erratically and trying not to let it show to avoid letting his enemies know he was weakening. Despite his disposition, it was impossible to miss the burning sensation within his chest. Not one of his lungs pleading for a break, but one of the blood within his veins. His demonic blood.

He was in mortal danger; he knew, his body knew, and his mind knew. The chemicals that made up Inuyasha were revving into high gear, and no matter how many times he swallowed, no matter how many times he willed the call to subside, no matter how many times he stepped away or pushed them back to make it seem like he had the high ground, there was no calming his instincts. His demonic blood was much like adrenaline, but more potent. Adrenaline was fight or flight, do whatever you must to survive. Inuyasha’s demonic half was fight or kill, and it usually opted for the extremes.

He needed to get back to Tessaiga. He needed the hilt in his hands. The sword, the demonic source within it, helped keep his own demonic side at bay. It gave him security to subside his nature, it provided a sheath to conceal the evil he couldn’t control. Willingly, he stepped back, keeping his golden eyes on the men ambushing him while making it seem like they were pushing him. He knew where his sword had fallen, so he stepped in that direction, punching, swiping his claws, and dodging blades all the way. He’d fallen short though, someone blocking his path. Without knowing, he’d been backed against a steep hill, and the back of his heel hit the slope, making him fall.

Kagome peeked around the edge of a tree trunk to spot a man several feet before her in waiting, watching the scene from the thickets. It was difficult to tell if there were any others in the same vicinity; her senses were a jumbled mess with how horridly thick the air was. It would be impossible to sneak around him, and given the circumstances, Kagome didn’t have time to find an alternate route. As quietly as she possibly could, she stole an arrow from her quiver to align the nock with the string of her bow. It was hard enough to keep her heavy breathing silent, forcing her lungs to take slow and steady inhales through her nostrils no matter how much they demanded quick-paced air supply. The last thing she wanted was him hearing and jumping on her, or even alerting others nearby of her attendance.

It was a low move to kill from behind, to deny another the opportunity to defend themselves, but Kagome didn’t have a choice. Even if she intentionally alerted him of her presence, she would only release her arrow the moment he spun to face her. It didn’t matter right now. He was bad, he was one of the people threatening Inuyasha, and therefore, he had to go. Kagome pulled her arrow back incrementally to prevent the creak in her bow, and the moment she had enough tension built, she let go, the spiritual power she’d attached to her weapon obliterating her target the moment it hit.

She stole his place then, running forward to spot the disastrous scene ahead. From her angle, she could see the side of Inuyasha as he was pushed back against the incline of the small hill, stumbling down onto his bottom and forced to block, roll to dodge, and kick troops away from him. He was unarmed. His life was in danger.

It was like something took control of Kagome then. There was no time to think, so she didn’t. There was no time to tell her body how to act, so she let it do it on its own. There was no time to try to understand the sensation that coursed beneath her skin, so she didn’t bother, allowing it to consume her entirely. Over and over, all she could hear from within was the shout, the urge, the absolute demand to save Inuyasha. It was her own voice, and it was loud, clear, strong, and authoritative in its will as it declared “He won’t die!”

Kagome ran from her spot, following the curve in the mound as she raced to get to the area above where Inuyasha was trapped. Along the way, she prepared an arrow against her bow, her weapon at the ready until she came to a break in the trees. So many were attacking the hanyou below her, so many were furious with how he kept managing to fight them off, surviving when they so badly wanted him dead. The atmosphere was riddled with horrible, intense energy, and it just kept getting worse. Her stomach was leadened, a mass clumped in the very center of Kagome’s throat, and she wondered if it was the result of all the catastrophic vitality, or if there was something else. Something worse.

Inuyasha’s yell, his growl, the sound released from his throat - one of pain - brought Kagome’s attention right back where it belonged. Nothing else mattered. There was no discovery that needed to be had; nothing needed an explanation right now. Her anger, determination, empowered the heat within her veins. Once again, she could feel her heart pounding against her chest, seemingly growing heavier by the second, especially as she raised her bow and pulled her arrow back to graze the side of her cheek. For the moment, she held her breath. A rush of power flooded over every inch of her flesh, tingling, prickling, but she stood steady. Her instincts took over, and she didn’t aim at one single combatant. No, she aimed as if her arrow was about to sweep the field and erase every villain from sight. Pulling the string back another inch, making it incredibly taught, she waited just one more moment, giving ample time for her power to saturate. With an exhale, Kagome released, the light she created, the evidence of her power that only she could see, flying outward as the head of her arrow sliced through the current of air, purifying the evil, killing Inuyasha’s enemies, and freeing him from his perilous assault.

Inuyasha was about ready to give up the fight against his demonic side. He couldn’t reach his sword, and his left arm was bleeding heavily, the pain of his wounds only assisting the energetic approach of the half of him he had little-to-no control over. The bandits were infuriatingly relentless, and though his plan was to wipe them out either way, his demon side left no room for survivors. Those who waved their white flag and ran for safety wouldn’t be able to get away, and that was the unforgiving part that Inuyasha fought back. It was brutality at its core, and he fucking despised it, but if it was the only way he was bound to survive, then fuck this shit.

His body was burning, his fingers shaking, and his growls were growing deeper. His kicks were becoming stronger, and a voice in his ear told him to use his claws to rip their tracheas out. Inuyasha threw in the towel, releasing whatever control he had remaining, his instincts sharpening even though everything was going dark. He, his true self, wouldn’t be conscious for what was about to happen.

Just before he slipped, a shift in the atmosphere slowed everything down. Something whizzed by, the sound effect loud in his ears as it shot through the field, a formidable shock clearing the offenders all around. All of a sudden, Inuyasha’s attack had completely halted. There was no one in front of him, at his sides, in the distance, coming forward. He’d watched them all decompose before his eyes, from nearest to furthest as the arrow pierced the ground at an angle quite a ways ahead. No longer did he feel weighted with the horrible shift of his indocile half. It had suppressed, and not even he had felt the clean dissipation of its need for bloodshed.

What the fuck just happened?

He’d never seen this before. The only time he’d ever witnessed a field wiped clean was with incredibly powerful attacks only demons were capable of, and even that was a rare occurrence. This wasn’t the result of a demon, though. No. It was light and relieving. It was strong and just. It was purifying. Inuyasha had only ever heard of this sort of thing; he never thought he’d actually be present in this sort of circumstance. This had to be…

This had to be the work of a conjurer.

Quickly, the hanyou twisted around in his seat to see who’d invoked such incredible magic. A woman stood directly above him at the top of the incline, her black hair long and wavy, bangs curling and sticking to her forehead and temples from the sweat that dripped down her face and from her chin, dotting her chest that rose and fell with her heavy breaths. Her bow was still raised, the hand that’d released the arrow hovering beside her head as if she’d let it go a split second ago. Her eyes, deep with courage and perseverance, were aimed ahead of her, over his head, staring at the arrow she’d stabbed the earth with, and her pink lips sat parted, opened for the air her lungs pleaded for. Inuyasha could see it on her face. He could see her processing what had just happened, where she was, what she’d produced as her brows relaxed, her expression shifting into one of shock. Her arms progressively lowered, eyes darting around the now-empty premises before landing on him just as he spoke.

“Kagome?”

What had she done? How had she done it? The revelation of her capabilities was both astonishing and frightening. Never in her life had she generated so much spiritual power, and she wondered if she’d always been able to do something this amazing or if it only came forth because of her pressing fear that Inuyasha was going to be killed. Seconds later, it all came crashing down, short-lived. Screw wonderment and disbelief. Kagome had just committed a conjurer’s act in front of someone; an incredibly strong demonstration of what she could do, at that. No one was ever supposed to see that sort of thing. Not unless they were well-trusted, or were on the other end of her attack. There was no way around it, she understood this, but that didn’t keep the guilt and panic from sinking deep into her core. She’d simultaneously succeeded and fucked up. Big time.

Kagome stared at the awe-struck half demon, still on the ground, amber eyes wide as they gazed up at her. She needed to leave while he was frozen. She saved his life, and that was all she’d come to do. For all she knew, he could turn on her at any second. He may not be on Naraku’s side, but that didn’t mean conjurer’s didn’t have a bad reputation as it stood. It was why they went through so many titles through the decades; it was the spun tales of the ignorant who didn’t understand. He could kill her. He could turn her in. He could do a dozen things that Kagome couldn’t even begin to fathom right now. This was what she’d learned to fear; an outsider finding out what she was. Suddenly, she felt so terrified of the circumstances at hand that she felt painfully nauseous. Her legs felt wobbly, her fingers were trembling, a flash of warmth rode over her flesh, and it seemed she’d begun perspiring even more than before. Kagome hadn’t thought as far ahead as she wished she had. Her plan stopped at saving Inuyasha when it should have stopped at staying hidden so he’d never turn around to see her.

She swallowed thickly to push down her sickness, stepping back and stiffening her muscles to force them to cooperate properly. Inuyasha didn’t move, and with each step backward she took, she sent out silent gratitude. But, she stopped, a heavy and menacing aura approaching from the far right tree line.

There were more.

Kagome hadn’t pieced together that if one man was standing on the sidelines watching, waiting, there were most definitely more planning on eventually jumping out. There were more men, there was more evil, coming forward. Had they seen? Did they know, too? She had to go. No more slow movements; they needed to get the hell out of there. Separately.

“Th-there’s more.” She spoke brokenly. “Inuyasha, get up. There’s more. You need to go.”

The hanyou spun around to face the exact direction she felt them coming from. His ears twitched, swiveling, no doubt hearing them as he hastily lunged to the side for his sword. Kagome took the opportunity then to take off, spinning around on her heel without saying another word and sprinting as fast as she could.

Inuyasha grabbed Tessaiga and pushed to his feet in the same motion. He had no plans to stick around for another ambush. Fuck that. Not with his condition. But, as he turned around to tell Kagome to run, she was already gone. He didn’t have to question why, it was written all over her face. She wasn’t just running from the incoming attack, Kagome was running from him.

“Wait! Kagome!” He called, thrusting Tessaiga back into its sheath just as the next wave of bandits appeared, charging forward. Inuyasha pushed himself up the incline, catching her scent and racing after it to catch up. Better than anyone, he understood why she took off. He could help, though. Chances were, the bandits had seen, and he needed to get her far away from here. He wasn’t going to let them have her. “Stop!”

Kagome tried to run faster, her throat and lungs burning, her muscles aching, but she fought through it, pleading with her body to help her get away. It felt like she was weakening, slowing, and Kagome took to outwardly begging for her legs to keep going, repeating “please” over and over until tears burned at her eyes. She was so ungodly scared of what could happen, everything seeming so deleterious and life-threatening at that moment.

The heavy thump of footsteps were behind her, closing in, and Kagome barely had an opportunity to push herself passed her limits before a large, hot hand closed around her wrists, pulling her to slow but then jerking her in a different direction just as she inadvertently yelped, almost making her choke when she gasped at the same time. Inuyasha held onto her tightly, his grip almost bruising while he ran directly in front of her, guiding her, and then abruptly, he stopped, pushing Kagome flat against a tree and pressing his body against hers.

His calloused hand covered her mouth, glowing eyes meeting her own. They were inches apart, the rise and fall of his chest pressing against her own, clashing with the rhythm her lungs held. Kagome didn’t know what was going on or what he was doing, but just as she tried to push him away from her, Inuyasha pressed further inward, his hold on her mouth firming.

She felt it then, the incoming swarm of people. Kagome could hear their thudding footsteps hurdling their way, and immediately she stopped fighting the hanyou, her fingers clutching onto the fabric of his black shirt, quaking, keeping him on top of her. Her nausea never subsided, only growing worse with each passing moment, and she swallowed profusely, over and over, willing her stomach to calm but it wouldn’t listen. She held her breath as he pushed impossibly closer, and she shut her eyes tight. Inuyasha’s face was directly next to her own, his head bent slightly to match her height. She could feel his sweat drip onto her clavicle, his hot breath on her ear before he sucked in and held it at the very moment the assailants closed in and raced right by them.

Each beat of their boots on the earth had Kagome’s heart thrusting against her ribcage painfully. She never released her hold on Inuyasha, her searing tears gliding over her cheeks and then pooling at the top of his hand, spilling over his fingers. She counted the seconds that passed, allowing herself to breathe but only very, very steadily so that she could continue to swallow and push down the bile that felt to be rising through her esophagus.

Gradually, it grew quiet. Inuyasha let it sit for a moment, thankful the majority of those that passed seemed to be human. The demons, these kinds at least, didn’t appear to have sharp senses. That, or they didn’t rely on them like the wiser did, bringing them to completely miss the two they ran right past. No one stopped, no one realized they were there, and even afterward, which was what he was waiting for, no one turned around.

He eased off of Kagome, though he kept his hand on her mouth. She was terrified, shaking against him, and the last thing he wanted her to do was yell or scream. As he gave her space, Inuyasha glanced down at her, watching her brown eyes blink open. She returned his stare, and she seemed to be calming, but it shifted so quickly when her eyes widened and the hands she’d braced against his chest released his shirt to frantically push him away. He sensed her panic, saw her panic, and the hanyou released her and jumped back just as Kagome folded forward and vomited.

The girl was choking on her sobs, trembling, and she dropped to her hands and knees as her stomach heaved. She’d felt burning hot when his cheek was to her temple, but he hadn’t thought anything of it. There was no time. There still wasn’t. They were sitting ducks and he needed to get her out of here. Before that, Kagome needed to get this out of her system. Calmly, Inuyasha knelt beside her, moving cautiously when she flinched to pull her hair behind her shoulders and hold it out of her way. He slipped his palm beneath her bag, rubbing her back slowly, soothingly. Her whole body was racked with hiccups and quakes, her flesh scalding even through her shirt and bodice. What the fuck had happened to her?

“Please - please don’t…” Were the only words she managed to cry out. She’d finished puking; it had been minutes since her stomach clenched violently, but she was a defeated, sickened mess.

“Please don’t, what?” Inuyasha asked, mindfully keeping his tone quiet. She sobbed hard, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and sitting back on her legs where he released her hair. He’d caught a peek at her paled face before she shook her head and looked away from him, unable to speak clearly so she didn’t even try. She was scared and weak, and he knew, he just fucking knew that this all had to do with who she was. He had very limited knowledge on conjurers, but even when he pinned her yesterday she didn’t look nearly this afraid. Her secret was still safe then.

“Kagome, I’m not going to hurt you. Look at me.” Inuyasha waited a moment for her to respond, pulling his hand from her back. When she made no motion to comply, he gently grabbed her forearm but took a more serious tone when he repeated himself. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she shifted his way, holding her sleeve in front of her mouth. He couldn’t tell if it was an anxious quirk or if she didn’t want to take chances of him seeing any of her illness she may have missed cleaning. He could comprehend both. At this point though, it wasn’t important. He reached over and pushed the hand away, gesturing to her that she had nothing to worry about. And, she didn’t. She was clean. But, she seemed even paler, and he was sincerely concerned. Her eyes, though bloodshot, were large, sad, and swollen. Her lips were curved in a quivering frown, and her cheeks were clammy with sweat.

“I am not going to hurt you. I swear. You’re safe, Kagome. We need to get going so we can keep it that way, though.” He pushed the straps of his bag off of his shoulders, discarding it to the side. “Come on, get on my back.”

“What?” Kagome mouthed, her voice failing her in her state. She didn’t know how to read Inuyasha right now. Her head was pounding, her body wouldn’t stop shaking, her throat was burning, and she felt dizzy. She still needed to try and understand what was happening, though.

The hanyou reached over to her, softly pushing sweat-soaked strands of hair behind her ear. “I need you to trust me. Okay? I know you’re scared, but I’ve got you. Nothing bad is going to happen. I know someone who can help us both. I’m going to take you to her.”

Unintentionally, Kagome held out her pinky to him. A pinky promise. Of all times, of all people, she was requesting a pinky promise, as if it would actually keep her life in tact. It was habit. He wouldn’t understand, and she shouldn’t expect him to.

To her surprise, Inuyasha tangled her pinky with his, showing minimal hesitation to give her what she wanted. With that same grip, he pulled her closer, silently telling her to climb on his back.

“Did - did you want me to hold your bag?”

“No,” He replied, though her inquiry reminded him to think of one thing he’d have been pissed to leave behind. He pulled the drawstring of his bag open, pulling out the folded, red robe that used to belong to his father. He stood, walking to the backside of Kagome to pull her drawstring open and shove it in her own bag before securing it shut. “I don’t need anything else from it.”

“Are you sure?” She asked as he crouched before her again.

“Promise. Climb on. We gotta go.”

She did as he asked, tensing her muscles again to make them cooperate, though her vertigo made it difficult just to position herself on his back. Even though she didn’t feel completely settled, Inuyasha took over for the rest, firmly clutching the backs of her thighs and standing. With a little jostle, he hiked her up to position her perfectly, the backs of his hands finding each other beneath her bottom so she was secured.

“If you feel sick again at any point, let me know and I’ll stop immediately. Otherwise, hang on tight.”

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#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #monster #akitokihojo

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trans-cuchulainn · 3 years

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What are the major details that confused you about the Hound blurb? The major one that stood put to me was the "way of the farmer opposed to the sword" thing which felt very...un-Cú Chulainn. Also, if you don't mind expanding further, which details didn't you question/be confused by?

and also for anon:

okay so it is like. 2am so there are not going to be any sources here but i can't sleep so here goes!! i will go through this blurb line by line and give youse my thoughts

In 50 BCE,

reasonable. this is roughly the right time period for when the ulster cycle is set. maybe marginally earlier than i'd place cú chulainn, but i'm talking a few years, nothing to get worked up about.

Morrigan, the goddess of war,

fine. normally i'm wary of pantheonising impulses with regard to irish characters (almost none of them can be identified as a god of anything in particular, it doesn't work like that) but tbh the morrigan is like, the most plausible exception to that, so whatever. normally her name has the definite article attached to it because it's kind of a species term as well but whatevs.

has become restless as a long-lasting peace settles over Ireland.

dubious. closest i can think of to peace being reference in any texts is togail bruidne da derga talking about conaire mor's reign being like, prosperous and peaceful and whatever, and even there you've got díberg (plundering/reaving) which is what eventually fucks him over and starts the otherworldly hell spiral situation. that's roughly the right period here but conaire's doom proves you don't have to do much to nudge peace into war, and connacht and ulster are at each other's throats for years before cú chulainn comes on the scene anyway

Deciding the time of peace must end, she chooses Setanta, the nephew of the king of the north, to become her ward.

hmm. i mean. like, this isn't the WEIRDEST choice they could have made. it's still completely made-up, don't get me wrong -- cú chulainn has a lot of different foster parents in different texts and they don't agree with each other but none of them ever mentions the morrígan. but like, they do have a connection of some sort, as evidenced by their conversations. and there's that one moment in the r1 boyhood deeds where little cú chulainn is out on the battlefield and hears her (not sure which name is used here) calling out to him and it like. motivates him to do some deeds or whatever, and i guess you could extrapolate that into some kind of teaching capacity.

so like. could be weirder. if you're gonna pick anyone, you could do worse. still seems weird to me! but not on its own a major issue, i could get past this and consider it a Fun But Unorthodox Creative Decision

(the fact that she tries to seduce him in the táin probably wouldn't get in the way of this considering sleeping with his teachers/foster-mothers is far from unheard of where cú chulainn is concerned)

After a young Setanta slays the demon-hound of Cullan, he becomes known as Cú Cullan—The Hound of Cullan.

weird spelling choices, they could have at least bothered to use the genitive properly. also the hound isn't a demon, it's a ferocious watchdog -- making it sound all Otherworldly and Hellish like this kinda confuses the issue of why he would need to take its place. he needs to take its place because the cattle and people still need protecting because it is a watchdog!! but whatevs, again, it's a brief summary so they can't exactly give us all the details and this is not actively objectionable

As Cú Cullan grows older, it is apparent that an extraordinary power lies within him … and a great darkness.

ugh boring. this makes it sound like he's going to be ~tortured~ and angsty about it. give me an unapologetic murder teen please. is the ríastrad dark? sure i guess, if you're going to be boring about it. it's more like, grotesque neon in my head

When he chooses the quiet life of a farmer over the sword,

this would fucking never happen on like five different levels. obviously like anyone who has ever read anything about cú chulainn can see that this is not in his nature. he is never going to choose a quiet life. this is the kid who tricked his way into taking arms before everyone thought he was ready. also juxtaposed with the "darkness" comment makes it sound like he would Angst his way into this quiet life which. again. have you seen this kid. he is an unapologetic murder teen

the only thing i can think of that might make him temporarily want to walk away is connla's death which... depends where you position that in the timeline really, he does seem a bit fucked up by it and maybe he'd want a holiday although i can see that lasting precisely 5 minutes before someone pissed him off enough for him to murder them. but if he's being raised by the morrígan i can't see him going to train with scáthach so then he'd never meet aífe and therefore connla would never be born so that wouldn't happen. so like. whatever.

but also like. he would not become a farmer. he just wouldn't! it doesn't work! the ireland of the stories is super hierarchical, right? and this blurb has already fucking told us that he's the king's nephew (canon) so we can tell that being a farmer is Not His Place. when we see upper class figures becoming menial labourers in texts, like in cath maige tuired, it's because Things Are Fucked, Shit's Gone Wrong. people don't just decide to change their entire social class on a whim lmfao

if cú chulainn really wanted to turn his back on being a warrior he could probably make recourse to certain other Suitable Professions ... his grandad's a druid so he might have a route into that, though his dad's not so that might fuck things up a bit bc it's one of those things that's usually inherited. he does give "wisdom" in at least one text though and we also know he can write (he carves riddles in ogham in the táin) and he composes verses on various occasions so idk, maybe something in a poetic direction, though again, usually requires two generations of inheritance to be a real poet and not just a lower-class bard. warrior's kinda the main thing he's got open to him tbh. but farming? i'm not a legal expert but as far as i'm aware based on what i have read, that would fuck shit up

more likely an upset cú chulainn would just go off in search of an adventure somewhere conveniently far away until he'd calmed down (alba, or the tyrrhenian sea, or -- if we're going to get early modern about it -- somewhere like india, which frequently gets thrown into the texts with absolutely no cultural context and it's always hilarious)

Morrigan, angry at the betrayal,

of the entire social order, yes,

instigates an invasion of his homeland

i mean. if they intend this to be the táin then.... táin bó regamna does kinda make the morrígan responsible for it? not in the sense of triggering the pillow talk argument that it's in the book of leinster -- it's her getting up to her usual cow-nicking behaviours for shits and giggles. [note to readers: it is probably for more than shits and giggles but did i mention it's 2am]

but all in all, not particularly out of character that she would be at least some way responsible for this so i can vibe with this. echtra nerai also supports the TBR explanation with her fucking around with otherworldly cows and pissing people off so, yeah, whatever. the morrígan engineered this. sure.

and Cú Cullan must challenge fate itself

this is probably a controversial stance but fate feels like a difficult concept to apply to medieval irish texts. like are people sometimes Doomed? yes. there are prophecies, there are gessi, there's all manner of otherworldly fuckery that can trip you up. is that the same thing as fate? no idea. considering cú chulainn comes out alive from the táin though and his doom prophecies don't catch up to him for like, at least another decade, maybe 16 years depending on who you listen to, hard to see how that would apply here

to keep the goddess at bay.

again like she IS causing fuckery in the táin but also it's like... one time. really not the main character. but she or maybe just some crows, hard to say, do get implicated in the death tale so maybe they're doing what people often do and conflating the two? even though there's like 10-16 years in between them?

anyway as you can see i don’t think it’s wholly terrible / i’m not completely thinkshaming it. like, having cú chulainn raised by the morrígan is unorthodox but it could be a fun and creative direction so i don't object to it. making cú chulainn get sad about murder and choose to be a farmer is just fucking laughable tho, and makes me doubt their characterisations in general. so that's offputting and would probably make me think twice about buying it, if that had ever been on the cards.*

and of course sure, their cú chulainn can be a Sad Boy Who Likes Sheep, but that means he's not the cú chulainn of medieval irish lit / irish myth, because that cú chulainn is a feral murder teen who keeps killing his friends and also is way too high social status to ever be a farmer, and whose only relationship to livestock is as the watchdog who kills anyone trying to harm them (which is an important role on a farm! but like. not the same thing as Being A Farmer. mostly because it involves more murder and is essentially just an extension of his role as a warrior. or rather the other way around. he promises to protect mag muirthemne as a watchdog and this like. gets extended into him becoming its sole defender)

this has been my analysis of this blurb i hope you enjoyed it

it's now 2.30am i should try and sleep now that i've exorcised a few thoughts from my head

*as i mentioned in the tags of my other post, i don't tend to read graphic novels due to disability stuff. they're much harder for me to understand and follow than prose, to the point where some are incomprehensible, so i don't really enjoy them. there are a few i've read, but they tend to be short ones, and i'm usually not reading them in order, just admiring the art separately from the text. so it's unlikely i would read a graphic novel of this size anyway.

#cu chulainn #hound #hound graphic novel #answered #oddnub-eye #anonymous #irish mythology #medieval irish #tain bo cuailnge

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eldritchteaparty · 3 years

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Chapters: 17/22 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Rosie Zampano, Oliver Banks, Original Elias Bouchard, Peter Lukas, Annabelle Cane, Melanie King, Georgie Barker, Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Basira Hussain Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Scars, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I'll add characters and tags as they come up, Reference to injuries and blood, Character Death In Dream, Nudity (not sexual or graphic), Nightmares, Fighting

Summary: Following the events of MAG 200, Jon and Martin find themselves in a dimension very much like the one they came from--with second chances and more time.

Chapter summary: Tim joins everyone at Elias’s house and pressure builds.

Chapter 17 of my post-canon fix-it is up! Read above at AO3 or read here below.

My tumblr master post with links to other chapters is here.

***

The rest of the first full day ay Elias’s house passed in relative isolation; Martin had a feeling it wasn’t unintentional that Melanie, Georgie, and Sasha spent so long away from the house when they went to the store. Jon seemed intent on mulling over whatever thoughts their talk with Elias had put in his head that morning; Martin tried to break him out of with conversation a couple of times, but ultimately he felt like more of an annoyance than a help. He went back to their room and scrolled through social media until his brain couldn’t process posts anymore. When everyone came home from the store, he helped put the groceries away, but he couldn’t come up with much to say even when Sasha pulled him aside to ask him how he was. All right was the only thing he managed.

When it got late enough that he realized everyone was not likely to be eating dinner together, he made a sandwich for Jon and brought it to him in the great room. They were alone; he leaned over to set it on the table next to the armchair.

“Hey,” he said, lightly kissing the top of Jon’s head.

“Hm?” Jon looked up, and Martin redirected his attention to the sandwich. “Oh—thank you.”

“Take a bite, while I’m here.”

Jon did as Martin asked, still too distracted by his thoughts to make a fuss. “Did you eat already?”

“No,” Martin shook his head. “I’ll have something later. When I’m hungry.”

Jon gave him a look that Martin now understood well, but he simply squeezed Jon’s shoulder as he turned to leave.

“Wait, Martin—are you—” Jon grabbed his hand before it slid away. “I’m sorry. That I’ve been like this.”

“I get it,” Martin said, as reassuringly as he could. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

“That isn’t the—” Jon sighed and let Martin’s hand drop, along with his thought. “What are you doing?”

Martin answered the question more generally than he knew Jon had intended it. “Waiting.”

“I think we all are,” Jon said. “But I was actually asking—”

“I know. And I don’t know what I’m doing. I was just going to head back to the bedroom, I guess.”

“All right. I’ll—I’ll be in before too long.”

Martin lay awake for a long time that night, even after Jon had fallen asleep.

***

When he woke in the morning, Jon was propped up on an elbow and looking at him.

“What’s going on?” Martin asked, slightly alarmed, trying to shake off the sleep.

“Nothing,” Jon said.

“Try again.”

“I just meant—nothing new.”

“Oh.” His eyes drifted closed, and he promised himself he wouldn’t let them stay that way very long. He felt Jon’s hand brush his cheek and travel gently up to his hairline; the feeling roused something in him.

“Wait,” he said. “Was I dreaming?” He had the vague impression he had been, although he couldn’t really remember it. He’d been looking for something, maybe. Trying to get somewhere, or find someone. Maybe someone had been lost. It was the kind of dream that made you feel like you hadn’t slept at all, and the more he tried to remember the more disquieted he felt.

“You were,” Jon said.

“But—wait, it wasn’t—”

“No,” Jon shook his head, pulling his hand back. “It was your dream.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” They both knew it wasn’t fine, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it. Martin closed his eyes one more time, but his mind wandered as he felt Jon breathing next to him, and he opened them again sharply. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought about this before.

“Jon?”

“Hm?”

“Do you—you need the statements, right? You need to read them?”

“I—more or less.”

“So yes, then.”

Jon nodded reluctantly. “Yes.”

“And? How are you—doing that?”

“I brought a few with me when we left the archives.”

He sat up, prompting Jon to do the same. “I thought you were basically out of statements. I mean, they don’t really go back that far here.”

“There were—well, there were a few I’d just—skimmed before. I’m sure if I give them a proper read—”

“Jon.”

“I’m doing fine.”

“But what about when you’re not?”

Jon didn’t answer him.

“Jon.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Oh come on, you Martin me all the time.”

Silence fell between them again.

“Ok—what if—” Martin had to try several times to give voice to his thought. “If you need it—really need it—could you ask me to give you a—statement?”

To be fair, he hated the idea himself, and the pit he felt in his stomach was firmly reflected in Jon’s reply. “No.”

“Why not? You basically just asked Basira for one. I’ve given you one before. A few, depending on how you count. It—it wasn’t that bad.”

He ignored the part about Basira. “Absolutely not. That was—that was before. I don’t—I don’t even know that you can really give me a statement at this point.”

Jon was still a terrible liar.

“Look it’s—it’s not like I want to do it, ok? I really don’t. I just meant—what if you get really sick?”

“Then I get sick.”

“Jon—”

“It is not an option.”

“Look, I get that you don’t want—but we’re doing this together, and we need to weigh both—”

“No.” Jon slipped to the edge of the bed and was standing before Martin realized he was getting up.

“No what? We’re not doing this together?”

“Not that.” Jon pulled on the pants he’d worn yesterday, and grabbed a fresh shirt from the drawer he’d thrown them in.

“Oh,” Martin said, watching Jon head toward the bedroom door. “Good to know.”

Jon began to open the door, but then closed it. He did not turn to face Martin. “I realize that—” He stopped again.

“Go,” Martin said. He wished he was saying it for Jon—offering Jon time to gather his thoughts—but he knew he wasn’t. He knew was saying it out of hurt. Worse, Jon knew that was why he was saying it; he had to know. Either way, though, he supposed it achieved the same end.

After Jon left, he took a quick shower; Jon was not back when he was done, nor had he expected him to be. He got dressed and headed toward the kitchen. No one was in the hall or in the great room; Jon had probably gone for a walk, and it was just as well. He rummaged through a couple of cabinets and triumphantly emerged with a kettle. It wasn’t even electric, it was the kind that you set on the stove, and that was perfectly all right with Martin. It will boil water properly, he thought.

He had no intention of repeating the previous day; despite how big the house was, he had already started feeling claustrophobic. After his tea was ready, he left through the back door in the great room, walking across the relatively modest back porch to stepping down to the back lawn. Like the side lawn, it was expansive; unlike the side lawn, there were more than a few trees dotting the view. In fact, as Martin walked down and out on a dirt path cut into the lawn, he realized there was what amounted to a pretty legitimate wood behind the house. Not far in there was a small creek—so small that the little bridge passing over it seemed ridiculous and unnecessary—but it was scenic, nonetheless. A wooden bench, upkept with enough frequency that it remained sturdy if not pristine, stood nearby.

I would have liked this, Martin thought, as he sat down on the bench. I would have written poems about this.

Spring was finally in effect. The trees weren’t green yet, but they were starting to sprout small leaves; a few had tiny buds with hints of pink and white protruding from their smaller twigs and branches. It wasn’t exactly warm outside, but it was comfortable as the light shown through the trees in a mottled pattern on the leaf-covered ground. He sipped his tea and watched how the sun hit the water in the little creek. In some parts it shone straight to the bottom, and he could see small rocks and pebbles and silt; in others, it seemed to dance as it reflected off the top of the water.

It helped, to sit and breathe. After a while, he started to notice birds chirping in the trees, and the sounds of small animals—probably squirrels—rustling in the leaves. It reminded him how when he and Jon had come here, the first sign that they were really somewhere, that there were things that mattered here, had been the sound of birds chirping.

He was glad they were here, he realized. He was glad they were here because they were alive—or more accurately, because Jon was alive, and Martin was with him. They were together. That was what Jon had given him when he’d told him how to end it, and despite himself and everything they had brought with them, he was still grateful for it. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t let himself think about it much further than that; he had a feeling there would be plenty of time for that when they all finally started talking. He could decide then what he’d be willing to do again, what he regretted. There would be plenty of time for regrets. It’s not like having a plan had really helped before. Jon had done what he had done; likewise, Martin had done what he had done.

At least now they knew what mattered to them.

He wasn’t sure if he dozed off or just got lost in his thoughts and the woods, but when he finally checked his phone he was taken back by how late it was. He’d come out mid-morning, and it was already mid-afternoon. He hadn’t meant to stay away for that long—what if Jon was—well, no, Jon could pretty much figure out where he was, and he supposed technically any of the rest of them could message him, but it just didn’t sit well with him that he’d stayed out there for so long.

When he got back in, he found Jon alone, on the sofa in front of the fireplace; like the day before, it seemed no one was particularly eager to tackle the big conversations yet. Martin was glad, for several reasons.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“If you’d like,” Jon answered, not looking at Martin.

Martin took him at his word and sat down next to him. The sofa was wider than he was used to, and he felt like he was just a little bit too far away; he moved closer to Jon, and awkwardly ended up straddling two cushions.

“I didn’t mean to push so hard this morning,” he said. “I’m not saying it’s settled, but—”

“Wait,” Jon said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I mean wait. I’ve been thinking of the words to explain.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Martin—”

“Ok. I’m listening. Take your time. Just didn’t want to push again.”

“I—” Jon paused. “It’s difficult.”

Martin started to tell him it was ok, but changed his mind. Instead, he reached for Jon’s hand. Jon looked down as he did, watched their fingers intertwine, and seemed to find the words—some words, anyway.

“I—like—the statements. Or I don’t, actually, but—I do. Does that—do you understand?”

“Not totally,” Martin said honestly. “But I guess I really can’t. I’ve seen how they affect you, though. I know they help. I know you feel better after you read them. You—like feeling people’s fear. But I mean, I know you don’t, too.”

“Do you know how I felt after we spoke with Elias yesterday?”

“I—you seemed upset.”

“I was. What he was saying was terrible, and wrong. But also there was that part of me that felt—it felt—”

Martin hadn’t realized that. “Jon—you don’t have to say. Please. I—I get it.” It’s not your fault, he wanted to add, but he stopped himself.

Jon nodded and cleared his throat. “I never want to feel—I never want to feel that because of you. And if I don’t—if we don’t—I can still tell myself I wouldn’t. I can tell myself that it’s not so bad. That I’m not so bad. That I can still be—”

Jon’s next words caught, and Martin automatically wrapped his arms around him, the gesture made clumsy by the empty mug he was still holding. “It’s—it’s all right. You still—you heard him, you know—ok, this isn’t about that, really, but—I’m sorry. This isn’t helping. Let me—” Flustered, he somehow managed to set his mug down on the coffee table without entirely letting go; he turned his head to kiss Jon’s mouth, then kissed him again.

“I’m all right,” Jon said. He did not look all right to Martin.

“If I—if I got you some tea, would that—would you like it?”

“I—yes.”

Martin stood up, grabbed his mug to bring back to the kitchen, and then bent down to kiss Jon one more time. “Wait, did you—were you done? I don’t want to—”

“Martin, tea. Please.”

“Ok. All right.” The coffee machine that didn’t really boil water would have to do; in his heart, Martin knew Jon couldn’t really tell the difference anyway. It was the fastest cup of tea he’d made in a while. The supply of coffee cups that had been on the counter had dwindled, and Martin simply rinsed out the one he’d used rather than go searching for a clean one. It wasn’t like that had never happened at home.

As he walked back through the breakfast room, he heard a voice that wasn’t Jon’s, and based on volume alone he was pretty sure they weren’t happy. Just before he turned the corner, he realized who it was.

“—and here’s Martin with the tea,” Tim said. “Are you all on holiday? Having a nice time out in the country? Where is everyone?”

“Tim?” Sasha, who must have been in her room, had also heard Tim and spared Martin from having to answer him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming out today. I could have warned everyone.”

“What is going on? I thought you’d be at least halfway to figuring this out by now, and here everyone’s hiding. What are you all even doing?”

“Coping, Tim. Adjusting to the situation. Which is exactly what you’ve been doing, if you don’t mind me pointing it out. Welcome, by the way.”

Tim took a deep breath, looking as if he were going to resume at full rant volume, but then let it out again. “Ok, fine. That’s fair. But I’m here now. Get everyone. Come on.”

“Tim—”

“Look, is there a reason not to?”

Sasha sighed. “Fine. Hold on. I’ll go get Melanie and Georgie.”

Tim dropped the oversize bag he was carrying right where he was, and walked back in the direction of Elias’s room. “You two—stay.”

“Where would—” Martin was pretty sure Tim wasn’t listening, since he was already shouting Elias’s name in the hallway. He turned to Jon and pressed the mug into his hands. “Here. Sorry, I was hoping—”

“It’s all right. This is—this is good.”

Within a couple of minutes, everyone had converged on the great room. They stood, ignoring the awkward furniture. Georgie and Melanie stood back from the group a little way, Georgie’s arm over Melanie’s shoulder; Elias, in a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, seemed much more relaxed than the last time Martin had seen him.

“All right, Tim. We’re all here.” Sasha crossed her arms and implied she was waiting for Tim to speak.

“Well—don’t look at me. What are we doing about this?” He turned to Jon and Martin.

“Tim.” Sasha’s voice was stern, but Martin realized Georgie and Melanie had also turned to look at them.

“Oh, come on. Don’t act like the rest of you don’t feel the same way. At least I’m being honest about it.”

Sasha snorted. “I don’t feel that way, Tim. I think I can honestly say—”

“Sasha,” Melanie interrupted. “Tim has a point.”

Sasha closed her mouth as she turned to face Melanie; Martin instinctively took a half step closer to Jon.

“I’m just saying—they brought this here. We didn’t have anything to do with it. And if they aren’t fixing it—”

“What Melanie is saying,” Georgie said, with a quick look at Melanie before she turned back to Jon, “is that the two of you are the most familiar with—this. And if you don’t have any suggestions to stop them—it’s not likely that the rest of us are going to come up with something on our own.”

Melanie frowned. “That’s not exactly what I was—”

“Melanie, please.” Georgie squeezed her arm, and Melanie stopped, although she didn’t look happy about it. “Jon, is there—is there a point to this?”

Jon took a breath before he answered. “I’m—I’m not sure there is.”

“A point?” Tim broke into the conversation again. “You all want a point? Ok, here it is. I just went to go visit my brother. I had every intention of telling him about this, right after I figured out how, and—you know what? I didn’t. I didn’t figure out how. And I’m not going to. I’m never going to tell him about this. We’re going to fix it. You want a point? Danny’s the point. And—and Sasha’s the point.”

Sasha face softened slightly as Tim gestured toward her. “Tim—”

“Jon, Martin’s the point. Surely you understand that.”

Martin started to protest. “Tim, you’re missing the—”

“I’m not missing anything. You are. You’ve given up. Both of you have given up. And at some level, I can understand that. You got beaten, really badly, and I’m sure it hurts. But I can’t give up. I am not going to give up as long as I have Danny—as long as we have Sasha. I understand that you’ve been through this, and maybe you want to be done. But we’re here too, and we haven’t had a chance. And I hate it, but Georgie’s right, we can’t do this without you. For better or worse, Jon is the only one with any real power in this situation. You can’t just sit back. Give us our chance.”

Martin did everything but literally jump in front of Jon. “Hey. No one is sitting back and—”

“Martin,” Jon said quietly, touching his arm.

Unable to silence himself, Martin turned to Jon instead. “He has no idea—”

“They deserve to feel like they’ve had a chance.”

Martin had more to say, much more—but he wasn’t prepared to say it in front of everyone. Tim seemed momentarily surprised, but quickly recovered. “Thank you.”

“Where do we start then?” Georgie asked.

“I have a proposal,” Sasha said. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use an actual meal. So—I’ll go start putting something together, and maybe we can have an early dinner after everyone takes a break.”

Georgie nodded. “What are you going to make?”

“I—” Sasha sighed. “I have no idea.”

“That’s what I thought,” Georgie said. “I’ll help. Melanie, want to come sit in the kitchen?”

Melanie looked pained. “I—I guess?”

As the three of them headed in that direction, Elias, who had really only watched everyone else talk, started back toward his room.

“Nope,” said Tim, grabbing his arm in both hands and redirecting him. “We are headed outside for some fresh air.”

Elias shrugged. “You know, I don’t really remember my mother, but I imagine you—”

“Funny, boss,” Tim said. “Move it.”

Martin thought this was extremely strange, until the two of them passed by him. Martin wrinkled his nose after they were gone.

“That smell—was that—”

“Yes,” said Jon.

“Everyone always has to tell me, I can never—never mind. Jon, what—what was that?”

“Um—weed? I though that’s what—”

“No. Back there. I know you don’t think we can stop the fears.”

“Oh. I don’t.”

“So then why—”

“What Tim was asking isn’t unreasonable. I wanted a chance—even if all I learned from it was that there never was one. Of course they want theirs.”

“And ok, I’m glad you’re considering them. I mean, I kind of asked you to. I just don’t like—I don’t want that pressure on you.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

“You mean you don’t want them pushing me, because you’re afraid of how that will end.”

“It’s—” Martin swallowed. “It’s both, all right?”

Jon was quiet for a moment, then moved toward the couch. “Sit with me?”

“Yeah,” Martin said. “Yeah.”

***

They moved the chairs and the couch out of the way and spread out on the floor. Martin had to admit it was a better use of the space. Now that some of the tension in the group had been so forcefully broken, there was again a sort of comfort in the conversation, in the company, at least at first. It didn’t feel so empty and dark.

“So… I was thinking about where to start,” Sasha said, after everyone was settled. “And maybe—we should start with the options you talked about before—in that other place—for what to do. Talk about them together, so there’s no misunderstandings.”

“Ok, but it’s important to keep in mind that—that was different,” Jon said.

“How?”

“There was—there was an apocalypse.”

“What about before the apocalypse?” Georgie asked. “Did you ever think about destroying the entities then? Getting rid of them or whatever?”

“No. Not really.”

“That’s weird, honestly,” Melanie said. “I would think that would be the first thing you’d consider. Why not?”

“A lot of reasons, I suppose.” Jon considered. “Mostly, they were just the way it was. We were much more worried about the people and the—things they acted through. And once we really understood, we were simply trying to avoid an apocalypse.”

“Think about a bad storm,” Martin added. “You don’t stop the weather. You just try to make sure there aren’t any trees that are going to fall on your house.”

Jon turned to look at him.

“What?”

“That—that’s a good metaphor, actually.”

“Why does that always surprise you?”

“I—”

“So,” Melanie said, “one option is to deal with it and just try to avoid the worst.”

“Yeah,” said Martin.

“No,” said Tim. “Danny, Sasha, Elias—all of that—that all happened before the apocalypse.”

“And you,” Jon added, but Tim did not acknowledge it.

“But they didn’t know about the—entities,” Sasha pointed out. “We do. That could change things.”

“But some people knew about them. Jonah Magnus knew about them,” Tim said. “I don’t think knowing about them is points in favor of dealing with it.”

Georgie spoke up again. “Jon, you also said you tried to avoid the apocalypse—objectively the worst part, if we’re trying to avoid the worst—and well, obviously it happened. So what about that? Could it be avoided this time?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you think, though?”

“My belief is—no. No, I don’t believe it can be avoided.”

“But it could take a long time,” Martin said. “And people might—might figure something out that we don’t know now.”

“So you do think it could be avoided?” Georgie asked Martin.

“I, um—” he glanced at Jon, whose face did not change. “Maybe.”

“All right,” Sasha said, redirecting the conversation. “So option one, live with it and try for the best.”

“No,” Tim shook his head.

At least Tim and Jon can agree on that, Martin thought.

“It’s an option,” said Sasha. “We’re just laying out options. So after the apocalypse—that’s when you thought about destroying the fears themselves.”

“Destroying them?” Jon said. “No, not really. I don’t think that was ever a possibility.”

“Then—what?”

“There were, in essence, two options. Open the door to the other dimensions, let them go—or don’t.”

“We’ll come back the first one. If you hadn’t let them out—then what?”

“Then Jon became god,” Tim interjected.

“That isn’t fair,” Martin responded. “What you have to understand is—”

“Wait, I have been wondering about that,” Melanie said. “How exactly would that have worked?”

Jon replied before Martin could continue. “Well—first, to be clear, there was another choice. We could have let things go on. Just let the apocalypse continue as it was. That—seemed bad.”

“Ok.”

“Otherwise, I—we—could kill Jonah.” Martin’s stomach twisted in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and he set down his fork. “The Eye would then choose me as a replacement.”

“Because Jonah was in charge before that?” Melanie asked.

“In charge? No.” Martin thought he could hear a slight scoff in Jon’s voice, although he could have been imagining it. “It was never his place.”

“But it would have been yours?”

“Yes. More so, anyway. I—I couldn’t stop it, but I could have—changed it. Redirected the suffering.”

“So you would have actually been in charge of—torturing people. Choosing which people to torture?” Georgie frowned. “Forever?”

“Not forever. It would have ended eventually. Death is one of the fears.”

“Well, that’s messed up.” Melanie wiped at her mouth with a napkin. “If you were going to do that, it almost seems like it would have been a kindness to end it faster.”

Martin almost choked.

“Food goes down the other tube, Martin,” Tim said, unaware Martin hadn’t been eating.

“Right. Sorry.”

“Ok,” Sasha said, “so another option you considered was—taking over from Jonah. Making the apocalypse—better, I guess.”

“Is that what you heard?” Tim asked.

“In any case, that’s not something we need to consider,” said Sasha. “There’s no apocalypse.”

Martin’s chest tightened.

“So the last option—also after the apocalypse—was to let them out.”

“Right,” Jon said quietly.

“And ultimately, that’s what you chose.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Martin said. “It’s what the rest of us chose.”

“In the end, I chose it too.”

Silence fell over the group; Martin realized they were waiting for one of them to say more. He willed the tightness in his chest to dissipate.

“So the thing about that is—we didn’t really know. At the time, we’d only just learned there were other dimensions. And we still had no idea—what was in them. Or if there were other entities just like ours already out there, and maybe what we did didn’t matter so much. All we knew for certain was that we could end the apocalypse in our world. This—sending them here—we really didn’t know.”

Next to him, Jon remained silent.

“I’ve been thinking,” said Tim slowly, “and—given the options—if we could send them somewhere else again—that really doesn’t seem like the worst thing.”

“We’re not making any decisions right now, Tim.” Sasha was firm. “We’re just laying out options.”

“And if the options we are laying out are do nothing, Jon becomes god, or we get rid of them—getting rid of them seems reasonable. Why should we be the ones to live with them?”

“For one thing, as Jon said, this is a different situation. For another, we are not done with the options. There—there must be others. We’re just starting with what they considered before.”

“Sasha, that—that’s hopeful,” Melanie said, choosing her words carefully. “But I’m kind of wondering if Tim isn’t right.”

“Melanie.” Georgie sounded slightly reproachful. “Think about that, though. It’s not like they just disappear into the air. They—they go somewhere else. That’s how they got here.”

“But maybe they’d go somewhere—I don’t know, somewhere where they couldn’t really do any harm.”

“No.” Martin felt them all shift their attention to Jon when he spoke, but he continued to stare down at his plate. “They wouldn’t go somewhere next time. They would go everywhere. An infestation of fear, affecting thousands of worlds. I won’t allow that.”

“Now, how do you know that?” Tim asked.

“I just do.”

“Through your creepy monster powers?”

“Yes.”

“Let me guess which option you want, Jon,” Melanie said.

Martin jerked his head up. “You really don’t get it, do you? I mean, of course you don’t, but—”

“Stop.” Sasha dropped her fork onto her plate with a deliberate clang. “All of you. We’re taking a break. Eat your food.”

Martin looked back down at his plate; his whole body was tense. He felt Jon touch his arm.

“Eat,” Jon said softly. “Come on.” He broke off a piece of a roll on his own plate, and chewed and swallowed in demonstration. Something about watching Jon do it helped, and he was able to relax enough to get down a few mouthfuls of the dinner that seemed to have turned to cardboard. He had been hungry when they had sat down.

Ten minutes passed in silence, except for the clinking of forks and glasses; eventually plates were emptied, and Sasha cleared her throat.

“Are we all—ready? Does anyone need a longer break?”

No one answered.

“All right. Then—I want to ask something. To Jon and Martin.”

Martin looked at Sasha and then at Jon.

“Go ahead,” Jon said.

“I think—I know a few of us have been—what actually happened? At the end?”

“Yeah,” said Tim. “I have been wondering about that.”

“Tim—”

“I’m being nice.”

“Good. Stay that way.”

Jon looked at Martin, asking permission with his eyes. Martin steeled himself and nodded.

“We—those of us who had survived—we talked. And it was decided that we would let them go. Martin would kill Jonah, severing the primary link between our world and the fears; Georgie, Melanie, and Basira would blow up the gas main underneath the panopticon, destroying the tower and what remained of the archives. That would release their power, and allow the fears to access the—the gateway to the other dimensions.”

“But it didn’t quite go like that,” Tim stated.

“Correct. I changed my mind.”

“Why?” Tim asked.

“Because I couldn’t live with it. It wasn’t right.” Martin was grateful he left out the part about his nightmares.

“So you snuck up by yourself, stabbed Jonah and—took over.”

“Yes.”

“But then you changed your mind again. Why?”

“I hadn’t accounted for everything. I didn’t realize that they could blow the gas main without my—help. There was—there was—” Jon stopped. “I don’t remember how they did it, honestly.”

Martin could never quite remember that part either. All he remembered was that he had told them to go ahead and do it. “It was my fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Ok—just—what happened?”

“I told them to do it,” Martin said, “and then I went up after him. I didn’t think he’d—I thought I could stop him. I thought—I thought we could still leave. But we couldn’t. He couldn’t. He was part of it.”

“So they blew it up, and you lost control?”

“No. I could have kept them there. I could have. I was strong enough. If—” Jon looked at Martin and stopped. “I changed my mind. I let them go.”

Tim ignored the finality of Jon’s tone. “But why? How? And why was there so much blood? You said it was yours. Granted, you also said you didn’t kill anyone and you very much did—”

“He didn’t count,” Jon said disdainfully.

“Agreed, but that—that didn’t all come from Jonah. What happened?”

Jon sat back. “That is between me and Martin.”

“It’s ok,” Martin said. “You can—you can tell them. I just—I have to—I need another break.” He felt dizzy as he stood up; there wasn’t enough air.

“Martin?” Sasha started to get up too. “It’s all right, we don’t have to—”

“It’s fine. You should know why things are like this.”

He meant to go to their bedroom, he really did, but somehow he found himself in the hallway bathroom instead. Tears began to fall as soon as he closed the door; he sat on the toilet, the only real seat available.

“Jesus,” he said out loud to no one, as he wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, willing it to stop. For once he was glad that Jon knew how he felt; Jon would stay, and he would tell them.

You bastard. His own words. He understood now why Jon had done it, but it still hurt. Understanding didn’t undo the past and what he had felt then. The moment he had seen Elias’s body on the ground—the moments afterward as the realization had dawned on him—

You bastard. He still didn’t know how much of Jon had been left then, how much would be left again if it came down to it. Maybe less this time. Maybe none. How long could a person stand up to something like that?

You bastard. In his mind, he felt the pressure of a body giving way at the point of the knife, heard Jon gasp as it entered his chest. He was so tired of feeling it, so tired of hearing it, and it was always there—it was part of him now. He could ignore it sometimes, most of the time, even, but it was always there. It was always just below the surface, just waiting for a moment like this one. He would always know now what it felt like to take the life of a person, the person, who loved him. It was the only thing he had said he wouldn’t do, yet in the end it had been the only thing he could do.

It had just gone so wrong.

He breathed; he tried to breathe. Breathe in a square, he told himself. He didn’t know where he’d learned it—maybe the internet. Probably the internet. He breathed in, held it; breathed out; held it. In, hold; out, hold. Slowly, gradually, he was able to take full breaths. He almost had control again when there was a knock on the door.

“Hang—hang on,” he said. “Sorry, I should have—”

“Martin?” It was Melanie. “Can I—can I come in?”

“Um—”

“Please?”

“It’s unlocked.”

Melanie slipped in and closed the door behind her; she walked slowly to the edge of the tub and sat down. They looked at each other for a long moment.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be.”

“I just—I didn’t know.”

“We didn’t tell.”

“But I should have known. I mean, not the details, but—of course it had to be terrible. I think maybe I didn’t want to think about it.”

“What do you mean? Think about what?”

“I think—I think it was easier to imagine that you were hiding things because—well, Georgie said Jon wasn’t like that, but—” She shook her head. “When it comes down to it, I just didn’t want to think about how bad it could be, how bad it could get. I wanted to think I’d already seen the worst. I can’t imagine if Georgie—god. I’m just so sorry.”

“Me too.” He went to take another deep breath, but this one hitched at the top.

“Wait—hang on. I’ll be right—just hang on.” Melanie slipped out again, but quickly reappeared, this time with a large ball of black and white fluff in her arms. “I know this might be a bit silly, but—I don’t know. He really helped me after I—I mean, it feels like nothing now, but at the time—”

“It wasn’t nothing. I mean, that’s kind of the thing. It’s all awful.” Martin watched as Melanie set the Admiral down on the bathroom floor. The cat was cautious for a moment; he sniffed at the edge of the tub where Melanie had resumed her seat, then at the cabinet under the sink. Then, with no warning at all, he plunged his face against Martin’s legs, running his whole body along them before turning around and doing it again.

Somehow, Martin smiled.

“See?”

“Yeah.” He reached out a hand, and the Admiral sniffed it before he began to rub his face against it furiously. “Is he—is he purring?”

“Yeah. He’s weird,” Melanie said. “It’s pretty great. I didn’t think I was a cat person before I moved in with Georgie, but—he’s changed my mind.”

“I can see that.” He dangled his fingers above the Admiral’s face, who swatted at them with a soft paw. “Is Jon—ok?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s fine. He had a moment, but—he was talking to Georgie when I came to look for you.”

“Good.” He pulled his hand back, and the Admiral quickly switched his attention to something in the corner of the room that Martin couldn’t see. “Listen—are they still—do you think I need to go back out?”

“Oh—no. Not if you don’t want to. I mean, they’re still talking, but I think everyone’s had enough of the serious issues for tonight. Even Tim.”

“I think—I think I might go to bed early. Do you mind excusing me to everyone?”

“Not at all,” Melanie said, gathering up the Admiral; he protested with a small squeak. “I think they’ll all understand.”

“Thanks, Melanie. Sorry for the trouble.”

“No trouble.” She opened the door, and they both stepped out into the hallway. “Goodnight, Martin.”

“Goodnight.”

He took one more deep breath, and headed back to their room. He was very, very tired.

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