#(because even if you have gone through the same thing... it's not going to look the same as somebody else going through that)

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I know plenty of people have already made a version of the "Jinx is alive" theory post but I've also seen so many of you mourn her death that I decided to gather all the evidence and make another post, turning this theory into a fact.

Because Jinx is alive. It's not a speculation. It's literally there.

The first thing I'm going to mention are the context clues Jinx gives herself. First, the last thing the ghost of Silco tells her. I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away. Then, the realization she comes to when Vi hugs her in the cell. You're never gonna give up on me, are you? What she tells Vi after she leaves her in that cell. You don't need to worry about me anymore. [...] And yes, her initial plan is to kill herself, because she thinks the only way for Vi to move on is for her to be gone. And Ekko gets there just in time to stop her but it looks like he doesn't convince her to abandon her plan, just change it.

And later, when she joins Vi in the final fight. What does she tell her? Still don't get it, huh, sis? I'm always with you. Even when we're worlds apart.

Everything that happens after is constructed specifically to let us and Vi believe that Jinx died. Until we get to this scene:

Caitlyn is studying the Hexgates designs.

She's looking through the pages depicting the place where the final fight happened, specifically focusing on the air vent shafts, while toying with a monkey bomb head - the same monkey bomb that Jinx used in her supposed last monents.

She looks down at the monkey...

Watch the eyes. The realization hits her...

And she smirks, knowing. Jinx used one of the air vents to escape before the explosion.

I've studied the explosion frame by frame. First, a small yellow explosion goes off - Jinx sets off the monkey bomb.

As it becomes bigger, she shoots out of there

this is still the beginning of the blast when we can still see her, and the big boom that destroys everything starts 10 frames later

Last context clue is a reference to the very first episode, which is clearly depicted in this gifset here, so instead of explaining, I'll just send you there to check for yourselves.

One thing that is speculation here is, how exactly did Caitlyn come into possession of the monkey bomb head? I doubt she found it there because it would have been turned to dust. And I'm thinking, Jinx took it with her and left it for Cait to find as a clue. She didn't want Vi to know but maybe she wanted Cait to figure it out. I imagine her sneaking into her house and maybe leaving it somewhere for Cait to find, like her desk or something. It gives Cait an idea, a gut feeling she needs to check, and that allows her to figure it out. Just like we are supposed to figure it out on our own.

Bottom line, Jinx is alive. She escaped the explosion through the air vents, then boarded the airship and left the city, convinced that the only way to give her sister a happy ending is to take herself out of the equation. The glitching closing shot saying The End in Jinx's colorful handwriting is a sign that she is telling us that this is where this story ends, like she's saying "don't look for me. It's over." That's also probably why we aren't shown what Caitlyn does with the information she now possesses.

I hope this helps take away from the grief 💙

[purifiedclitoris69]

Breaking point

a/n: Finally got to the nat version of silent comfort. It’s a little short tbh so sorry about that. hope you enjoy!

pairings: Natasha Romanoff x supersoldier reader

warnings: violence

You’d been with the Avengers for almost a year now, and in that time, you’d managed to carve out a space for yourself on the team. Sure, being the former Hydra experiment wasn’t exactly the most inviting introduction, but you didn’t let that define you. It wasn’t who you were anymore. You were the team’s go-to for a laugh, always cracking jokes, lightening the mood, and making it easier for everyone to handle the high-stakes pressure of their lives. What you didn’t talk about, though, was your past. Not because anyone had told you not to, but because you didn’t want to relive it.

Especially not now, when things were starting to feel... normal.

Normal was spending late nights on the couch with Natasha, arguing over which movie to watch but never finishing them because you’d get caught up in teasing each other. Normal was training together and catching her smiling at you when she thought you weren’t looking. Normal was her throwing playful jabs about how you talked too much, only to call you out on being unusually quiet when something was bothering you.

You weren’t sure when things had shifted, but somewhere along the way, the time you spent with her had become the highlight of your day. And judging by the way she always seemed to find excuses to stay close, you thought maybe—just maybe—she felt the same way.

Neither of you had said anything yet, though. It was comfortable, whatever this was, and you didn’t want to ruin it.

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

The quinjet hummed softly as the team prepared for the mission. Hydra remnants were regrouping, and the team had been sent to intercept a high-level target.

You were double-checking your gear when Natasha sauntered over, a sly smile already playing on her lips.

"You know," she said, leaning casually against the wall beside you, "I’ve noticed you spend an awful lot of time fussing over that utility belt. Got a secret stash of candy in there or something?"

You snorted, pulling a strap tighter. "Jealous I don’t share my snacks with you, Romanoff?"

"Please," she shot back, tilting her head. "If I wanted candy, I’d just take it," she shrugged her shoulders, "I always get what I want."

You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? I’d like to see you try."

She stepped closer, her green eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, or I might have to prove it."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "You’re all talk."

"Am I?" She reached out, her fingers brushing the edge of your belt, and for a split second, your heart skipped a beat. But instead of taking anything, she smirked and stepped back, clearly enjoying the way you were watching her.

"Tease," you muttered, pretending to focus on your gear again.

"You make it too easy," she quipped, crossing her arms.

Before you could come up with a comeback, Steve’s voice cut through the moment. "Gear up. We’re heading out in five."

Natasha straightened but didn’t move immediately. Instead, she leaned in just enough for only you to hear. "Try to keep up out there, rookie."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. "Try not to get distracted, Romanoff."

She laughed softly as she walked away, the sound lingering in the air long after she was gone.

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

Though successful the mission had been thoroughly chaotic, to say the least. Things had been going smoothly until Natasha went off-script.

You hadn’t even known what was happening at first. One second, you were covering her six, and the next, she was gone, chasing intel Fury and Maria Hill had deemed critical. It left you in a tight spot, trying to hold your ground without her, and you’d taken a few hits you shouldn’t have.

By the time the mission wrapped, you were sore, bruised, and too exhausted to joke around like you usually would. The tension on the jet ride back to the compound was thick, everyone keenly aware that Steve was seething.

The hanger was suffocatingly tense as the quinjet’s ramp descended with a mechanical hiss, and everyone piled out, the weight of the mission hanging heavily in the air. Conversations were sparse—exhaustion mingled with the unspoken tension. You were still catching your breath, the fight replaying in your mind, when Steve’s voice broke the silence.

“Romanoff, we need to talk.”

You glanced at Natasha, who was walking beside you. Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t stop, striding toward the hangar floor like she hadn’t heard him.

“Natasha.” Steve’s voice carried more force this time.

She stopped, turning around slowly, her face calm but her eyes sharp. “What?”

Steve’s expression was stony as he marched toward her. “What the hell was that back there?”

“The part where we got the job done?” Natasha shot back, her voice icy.

“The part where you ignored orders and jeopardized the team,” he countered, standing toe-to-toe with her now.

You stepped closer instinctively, but for now, you stayed silent, your fists clenching at your sides.

“I didn’t jeopardize anyone,” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “I prioritized the bigger picture. Fury and Maria needed that intel, and I got it.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Fury and Hill aren’t the ones in the field. We are. And when you decide their priorities are more important than this team, you’re not just making a bad call—you’re making a selfish one.”

Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t look away. “I made a call that benefited everyone in the long run. You might not like it, but it worked.”

“Did it?” Steve snapped, gesturing toward you. “Because they almost didn’t make it out thanks to you.”

Your chest tightened as his words hit. “That’s not fair, Steve,” you said, stepping in now.

He turned on you, his voice rising. “It is fair. You wouldn’t have been in that position if she hadn’t dragged you into her little side mission.”

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice low.

But Steve ignored you, his focus still on Natasha. “You know, it’s always the same with you. You play both sides, keep everyone guessing. It worked for you in the Red Room, maybe even with S.H.I.E.L.D., but here? That doesn’t fly. We’re supposed to be a team, but you’re still looking out for yourself first.”

The mention of the Red Room made your blood run cold. You saw the flicker of something in Natasha’s expression—a crack in her armor.

“Watch your mouth,” you said, stepping in front of her now, your voice dangerously calm, as you met Captain America eye level.

Steve’s gaze snapped to you, his frustration redirected. “Stay out of this.”

“No,” you said firmly. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”

“Or what?” Steve challenged, jaw tightened, his temper bubbling over as took a step closer, eyes blazing with anger.

The moment he moved, you acted. Your hand shot out, gripping his wrist and twisting with precision. With a sharp pivot of your hips, you flipped him over your shoulder. The impact reverberated through the hangar as Steve crashed into a nearby crate, shattering it into splinters.

The hangar went silent, the sound of the crash echoing in the vast space.

Steve was already scrambling to his feet, his eyes blazing with disbelief and fury. Bucky intercepted him, gripping his shoulder and holding him back

“Steve, don’t,” Bucky said, his voice firm but calm.

Natasha was in front of you before you could react, her hands pressing against your chest as she pushed you back. “Enough,” she said, her voice low but forceful.

You froze, the reality of what you’d just done hitting you like a freight train.

You glanced around the hangar, catching the wide-eyed stares of your teammates. The expressions on their faces weren’t just shocked—they were scared. Of you.

Your gaze landed on Natasha last. Her green eyes were glassy, her brows furrowed with confusion and something that looked too much like hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, your voice barely audible. Then you turned and walked away, your boots echoing in the silence of the hangar as you disappeared into the compound.

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

The rooftop felt like the only place you could breathe. The cool night air bit at your skin as you sat on the ledge, your hands gripping the metal railing.

What the hell had you done? You’d spent so long trying to prove you weren’t the weapon Hydra made you, but one moment of anger had torn that facade apart.

“Hell of a move back there.”

You didn’t have to look to know it was Natasha. Her voice was light, but there was an edge of something else—concern, maybe.

“Didn’t mean to wreck the crate,” you muttered, still staring out at the city lights.

She walked over, her steps soft, and leaned against the railing beside you. “The crate’s fine. Steve, on the other hand…”

You huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, bet he’s thrilled.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just studied you with that piercing gaze of hers. “Why’d you do it? he was right, I left you out there."

You sighed, finally meeting her eyes. "I would've been fine Tasha, and I know you know that," you looked down to your lap, "besides I couldn’t stand the way he was talking to you. Like you haven’t done more for this team than anyone.”Her expression softened, and for a moment, the world felt a little less heavy. “I don’t care about your past, Nat,” you said quietly. “And I’ll be damned if I let anyone throw it in your face.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile as she reached out, her hand brushing yours. “You’re not who they made you either, you know.”

You looked at her, and for the first time all day, you felt like maybe you hadn’t completely lost yourself.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t have to fight for me," her gaze dropping to your lips as you both began to lean in, " but thank you for doing it anyway," her breath fanned across you. Before you could reply, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was well over do. Her lips were soft against yours, warm and grouding in a way that made everything fade away.

When she pulled back, she smiled—a real, genuine smile. “Now let’s go figure out how to apologize to Steve.”

You groaned, but for the first time that night, you felt like everything might just be okay.

[ratindividual]

As someone with a mild disability to the knee and can't walk very long without feeling pain all through the leg and hip, people saying Viktor's own is a flaw and need to be cured asap because it's painful kinda misses the point of it all.

When Jayce said this:

He's not saying Viktor shouldn't have tried to find a cure to the pain or any ailment, he is saying Viktor was not flawed because he is disabled, which is what Viktor think.

"[...] what you thought were weaknesses." this is important to note, Jayce here doesn't share the same sentiment, he does not think it as a weakness, but part of a whole package that comes with someone (in that case, Viktor) Jayce took him like he was, and adored him.

A weakness is something you need to destroy before it gets to you, and sometimes, you will do unspeakable things to achieve it.

Viktor was never broken, imperfections make who he is, and by definition, makes every human.

Perfection does not exist, it is our emotions, our contradictions, our differences that make it incredible, human being are messy by design, we are a collectivity of incredibly diverse people and deserve respect!

It is not a flaw, it's a condition he lives with, which makes him singular, and that same disability constructed who he is, too: his drive, his mind, his resilience, his care and utter empathy for others, which are traits that Jayce admire most of it all!!! He says it himself:

It is his heart, his humanity, everything that Viktor think as a nuisance, that Jayce wants to preserve. He loves him for it, instead of despite it, and he finds him beautiful, both physically and mentally, it was never a question for him!

His unwavering compassion to push further, his ambitions, because he loves him. Jayce is an emotional, empathetic man, he values connection above all, and he understands.

He's saying Viktor has always been perfect to him because of it all. We humans are flawed, this is the inevitability of being conscious and alive.

Which is why this, this is very important:

Jayce knows Viktor, at this point, had lost his way. Empathy cannot work under the false prism of selflessness if it makes you believe that choice is an illusion, thus making it for others.

Jayce believes in choices, and knows that the people Viktor saves are, by proxy, unable to have any agency over their own fate, which is exactly the most important theme going on with Viktor throughout all two seasons. Viktor wants to take back control over his own self, while simultaneously pushing this on others who need help too.

I am convinced Jayce would have been more than fine with Viktor tweaking himself because he wants it, he was on board in season 1, he actually made the change himself in a misguided attempt to save the man he loves at the start of season 2. (which is very interesting, considering his feelings made him do something he himself sanctions such as resurrecting his soulmate, I love his contradictions so much)

He understands the desperation, the want to have a better life. But he doesn't want it to strip other's people individuality and Viktor's own sense of self, ripping his heart out for the sake of flawlessness.

He knows, too, the price of the perfect world Viktor wants to create. An endless loop of loneliness, mourning a man that is but a shell of himself, conscious through the hive but not him. His essence gone. A cross too heavy to bear.

And yet, Jayce never stopped loved him, never stopped fighting for him to understand how much he values him and respects him, worshiping the literal ground under his feet!!

Even in his godly form, he is head over heels for him!!! Look at how Viktor looks!! While talking face to face with this Eldritch incarnation, he remembers how Viktor used to look down memory lane, and it was still as majestic and grandiose, even!

It's why he confesses in the first place. He is in love with him through it all. His body changed, but it is still Viktor. He loves him wholly, every part of him! No matter where it takes them, no matter what he looks like.

Jayce loves Viktor with everything he has and no matter what comes their way. An unwavering, tangible loyalty.

[onyx-syn]

Imagine...

Trainee! Curly having a crush on the new cute Chubby Receptionist!

Warnings: Fluff, some hints of spice, Flirting, Some insecurities and Crushing

Minors be gone.

A/N: I am writing headcanons for this but I NEED to write this first because I'm getting way to excited for this :)

Trainee! Curly in the progress of becoming a licensed captain for Pony Express. Pony Express doesn't have the greatest history of hiring people and giving them proper training, but if they did get one thing right that is training the next upcoming captains

Trainee! Curly coming into work ready for another day of working out and tests. When he walks up to the desk to clock in with the receptionist, he sees someone he's never seen before

Trainee! Curly almost being love struck once the receptionist turned to look at him, smiling with their chubby cheeks as they ask him for his name and employee ID. He finds himself stuttering over a few of his words until he coughs in his hand to speak

Trainee! Curly stealing quick glances at the receptionist whenever he and the other captain trainees walk by. You being enthralled in your work to notice how he looks at you

Trainee! Curly coming over during his lunch breaks to start conversating with you. Seeing how your work clothes fit your form perfectly, comfortable and laid back yet professional at the same time. But he can also see how tight some of the areas of work clothes is with your body. Especially where your rolls are more prominent, making him get a bit flustered at the sight

Trainee! Curly asks you about how your day is and how it's going, his British accent prominent. A bright smile on his face with a twinkle in his blue eyes as you exclaim how you're loving the new job

Trainee! Curly continuing to visit the cute chubby receptionist, even bringing some food and snacks he brought for his workout. He isn't too fond of sweets, but he will bring some for you if you would like

Trainee! Curly becoming closer with the chubby receptionist. Complimenting you each and every time he gets the chance to

"you look absolutely wonderful today"

"hey! Hope everythings alright, you seem stressed so I uh- brought you some snacks"

"If you ever need to, I'm here to talk to. Here's my number if you would like"

Trainee! Curly gives you his number so he can get to know you more, albeit a little nervous about the possibility of you rejecting it but he wouldn't be mad if you did

Trainee! Curly sending you good morning texts and talks about your latest interests and hobbies. You also both share recipes through each other. He talks to you about why he wanted to be a captain and also how excited he is to see space

Trainee! Curly learning about the chubby receptionist that they are a bit insecure of their weight and he reassures them, and forbid if someone says something about it to you

"Ain't nothing wrong with having some pudge on ya, you look amazing either way. If they hate it so much then they should look at themselves first before saying something like that to you"

"People who make fun of your weight are insecure themselves, they should know better"

"Don't listen to them, look at you. You're doing incredible with everything you're doing!"

Trainee! Curly being a big positive for his chubby crush, making sure they are getting the food they need if they're lacking on not eating anything. Making it known that he is very much interested in them with the compliments, little gifts, and even hangouts

Trainee! Curly known in his highschool years as the highschool dreamboat and having many relationships during his young years, falling head overheels for the cute chubby receptionist he can't help but find himself thinking of them more and more each day

[sweetimpurity]

I think I'll keep you:

c.ai bot drop

a/n (please read!): Hiya! I've been working on these bots for a little while, trying to make them stick to the story I've been writing all year. But it is an ai bot so I have no control over what it says or suggests past the greeting. It might not stick to the story exactly. If there's anything you think could be improved or information you think the bots should have about the plot, just message and let me know! I hope you guys have fun kiss kiss!! 😘🍬

These can all be found on my profile: sweetimpurity 💓

I think I'll keep you

Miguel has no interest in a relationship. He just saw you one day and then your tutoring hours posted on the cork board. He knew he had to have you for one night. You were surprised when the text came in from him, him of all people, asking for a session. But he quickly got you on your knees and then in his bed. This one night would turn into much more.

“Oh, god…” You pant and whine, your head leaning to the side to rest on his head.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good…” He curses through a heavy breath against your neck. A high pitched squeal escapes your throat as your back arches against his chest and it hits you hard and fast. Your squeals turn into cries of his name, how good he feels.

He doesn't know what's come over him. He doesn't form attachments like this. But there's something about you that makes him want to bring you pleasure over and over again.

You’re babbling and thrashing in his arms and Miguel smiles, finally getting what he wants. Hearing your sweet innocent voice whining out the dirtiest things. You're a soft warm mess as he chases his own release.

He holds you tightly against him as you both stop moving and start panting to catch your breath. You’re glad he’s still holding you because if he let go, you’d surely face plant into the mattress. Your head rests back on his shoulder and he places small kisses on your skin as he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing deep and sighing out in relief.

“Will you be mine?” He asks softly and kisses your cheek. “Mine only…” He whispers and his gaze meets yours when you lift your head, turning it so you can look in his eyes. His finger strokes your cheek softly and it’s like he’s looking at the sun. He can try to close his eyes but the memory of you will always be seared into his mind.

“I want to be yours…” You whisper and watch his eyes as they light up a bit, a grin playing on his reddened lips. “Good. I think I’ll keep you…” He smiles and holds your jaw in his hand, kissing your lips once more...

I think I'll keep you 2

You've been gone only three days and he's losing his mind. Everything was so good before you decided to go home for the weekend. Miguel had you every night he wanted, every morning too. Peter's party was supposed to be a distraction but it turned into a disaster. A drunken Dana all over him and he just wants to make her hate him if only to leave him alone. He doesn't want her. He wants you back to campus.

Not hearing from you for three days is making his head spin, and he can’t help but picture you with some guy that’s not him. He throws Dana on the bed, pulling her by the ankles and grabbing her face. Could she handle him if she tried? The answer is no.

“You really like to get on my nerves, don’t you?” He seethes. But even Dana loves the attention.

Ding!

His red hot rage is interrupted by his phone going off. His face softens and his heart skips a beat just like it did when you said you’d be his. He can’t control that feeling. Miguel picks up his phone, seeing your name pop up and his eyes dart around the screen reading it.

{{user}}: “Came back early :)”

“Coming now” He texts right back.

He sighs audibly, a mix of relief and frustration at the same time. “What is it?” Dana whines, sprawled out on his bed, getting her loud perfume all over his sheets where the smell of you should be. “Get out.” He demands, stepping back and going to put on his jacket again to go. “What?! Are you serious?” She scoffs, sitting up on his bed.

"Yes! GET OUT!!" He shouts, making her flinch. She scurries off, out of his dorm fighting back tears. He pulls the jacket on, pushing out of his room and marching his way over to your dorm.

I think I'll keep you 3

Miguel pushes off the wall, going to the library door and seeing you’re finally alone. His heart thumps in his chest. Clenching his swollen bruised hand in his pocket. He sighs and forces himself to walk inside.

You suddenly look up. Stopping him in his tracks. And it’s like he feels like he’s doing something wrong. He told you, you were never supposed to happen for him. That what happened between you for an entire month was a mistake. To not let your messy feelings ruin everything. It’s been four days. Not a call, not a text. Nothing. And now he’s here. You look away first. Back down to your laptop to continue typing. And he continues walking, stopping at the edge of the table across from you.

“I need to talk to you.” He speaks, towering over the table. Thinking back to all those moments it’s like none of that ever mattered because it didn’t matter to him. How can you trust him again when he treated you like he wanted you and then told you, you were never supposed to happen. And you gave him your body, your heart everyday for a month already.

“I’m busy right now.” You say softly, keeping your eyes locked on your laptop screen. While this time away from him has been hell and you’ve been heartbroken over this, he’s also been a total dick.

He’s been trying all week to find you. To talk to you. Trying to find sneaky ways so that he doesn't have to beg for your attention. He wants things back the way they were. He wants you back in his bed. He doesn’t know what he feels.

He walks around the table. You don’t look up, not even sparing him a glance. Glaring at your laptop screen and seeing his movement in your peripherals. He silently walks to the seat right next to you. Slipping down into it to sit beside you. His hands shoved back into his pockets.

"{{user}}… hey...” He says gently, trying to get your attention. Turning in his chair slightly to face you more. He can see your anger, he can feel it too.

“I’m not talking to you.” You say without looking at him.

“Well I’m talking to you…”

I think I'll keep you 4

“...his hand, he’s been having swelling and bruising for a few days now…” You explain kindly to the receptionist once you’re both in the waiting room, standing at the front desk. Miguel standing a bit like a lost puppy behind you, listening to you talk to the receptionist there.

“Alright, the doctor can take a look once she’s done with another patient. If you can just fill out these forms and have a seat, it should be about 30 minutes.” She smiles and hands you a clipboard and a pen.

“Thank you. And could he please get some ice or something?” You smile and ask. The woman nods politely and going to grab an ice pack from the other room. You both start walking over to the waiting room area, looking over the form in your hands. Taking a seat by the fish tank and settling in to wait a little while. Miguel sits right beside you, running the good hand through his dampened hair from the rain. He glances down at the form in your lap. Then up at the side of your face. Wanting to reach out and touch your skin. Kiss your cheek. Remembering what it feels like to melt into your arms. Thinking of all the ways he can beg for, earn your forgiveness. Just as he’s about to speak-

“Here you go…” The receptionist is there, an ice pack outstretched for him to take, breaking him out of his thoughts. He forces a smile, taking the ice pack and setting it over his hand. “Thank you.” He smiles gently. Watching the woman walk away.

He feels like shit. Feels so bad for being so closed off and such a jerk to you about all of this. This past month hasn't been meaningless like he told you in the heat of the moment. It's meant something he just doesn't know how to say it. It's hard for him to put his feelings into words. For you it seems so easy, why can't he just be like you?

He looks back, watching you write down his name on the form. Thinking he can probably do this himself. Before he can interrupt you’re asking him for the information on the form.

I think I'll keep you 5

When the athletic door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.

“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him.

“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is {{user}}… {{user}} this is Miguel”

“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?” Peter asks you.

Miguel’s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends.

[laviefantasie]

Video 5

| series masterlist |

You’ve never been good at lying. Or, more specifically, you’ve never been good at lying to him. Satoru Gojo is practically a human lie detector, and unfortunately for you, that makes planning his surprise birthday party a Herculean task.

“This is ridiculous” you mutter into your camera, recording yourself while crouched behind a stack of file cabinets in the staff lounge, “It’s like he has a sixth sense for people talking about him. We’ve barely started, and he’s already suspicious!”

Shoko’s voice crackles, her tone flat as always, “That’s because you’re terrible at keeping secrets. Honestly, I don’t know why we’re even trying”

“Because it’s for Gojo!” you hiss, “He’d never expect it, and—”

You hear footsteps. Light, purposeful. Immediately, you slap your videocamera against your chest to muffle the recording and freeze.

“Are you talking about me again?” Satoru’s unmistakable voice rings out, smug and teasing.

“No” you reply too quickly, shoving your camera behind your back, “What are you doing here?”

Satoru leans against the doorway, his sunglasses glinting under the fluorescent lights. His smirk is as insufferable as ever.

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought I heard someone whispering my name”

You make a show of looking at your sides in confusion and standing up.

“I don’t think so. We were just discussing next week’s missions. Very boring stuff. You’d hate it”

His grin widens, and you know he doesn’t believe you, “Really? Because you’re looking awfully guilty”

Before you can defend yourself, Geto walks in, holding two coffees and looking entirely unbothered by the tension in the room.

“Satoru, do you ever think about leaving people alone?”

“Never”

He hands you one of the coffees and shrugs, “See? He’s incapable of basic decency. Good luck”

And just like that, he’s gone, taking Shoko with you, leaving you alone with a now curious Gojo.

“You’re up to something” he says, folding his arms.

“Nope. Not at all”

But you know this isn’t over. Satoru Gojo doesn’t let things go easily.

Hours later, you reconvene with Shoko and Geto in a secluded corner of the courtyard. You’ve somehow convinced them to help you with your grand plan: throwing the most chaotic yet heartfelt birthday party Satoru Gojo has ever seen.

“This is a terrible idea” Shoko says bluntly, sipping on a cigarette instead of her coffee now as you fix the camera’s position, “He’s going to figure it out”

“Not if we’re careful” you insist, flipping through your notes, “Okay, here’s what we’ve got so far: decorations, cake, gifts, and a playlist. Shoko, you’re on distraction duty”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re the only one he won’t suspect of being sentimental” Geto answers, lounging lazily on the grass.

You point to him next, “Geto, you’re handling decorations”

“Can’t wait to see what kind of sparkly nonsense he likes” Geto deadpans.

“And I’ll take care of the cake and gifts” you finish, “We’ll record everything so we can show him later how much effort went into this”

Shoko raises an eyebrow, “You really think he’s going to care about that?”

You hesitate, then grin, “No, but it’ll annoy him to know he didn’t catch us in the act”

The next few days are a whirlwind of poorly concealed planning and increasingly desperate attempts to throw Gojo off your trail.

You and Shoko are browsing through decorations online during lunch when Gojo suddenly appears behind you like a specter. The videocamera right by your side recording the process.

“What are you guys looking at?”

You slam your laptop shut so fast that Shoko flinches, “Nothing! Just… work stuff”

“Work stuff?” he echoes, leaning in uncomfortably close, “Lemme see”

“Absolutely not”

Shoko sighs dramatically and hands him her phone, “Here. Have this. Go bother someone else”

He snatches it, pouting, “This better not be another video of a cat falling off a table—oh, it is. Nice”

As soon as he’s distracted, you and Shoko bolt.

Geto is tasked with picking up decorations. He returns to the school with a bag of multicolored streamers, balloons, and—somehow—a life-sized cutout of Gojo himself.

“Where did you even find this?” you ask, incredulous, putting the camera down.

“Doesn’t matter” he replies, smirking, “It’s perfect”

“Perfect for what?”

You nearly drop the cutout as Gojo materializes out of thin air.

“For… uh…” You flail, searching for an excuse.

“A training exercise” Geto supplies smoothly.

Gojo eyes the cutout skeptically, “A training exercise with a cardboard version of me?”

“Yes” you say, clapping Geto on the shoulder, “We’re trying to improve our reaction times. Totally normal. Bye!”

You shove the cutout behind your back, grab your camera, and drag Geto away before Gojo can ask more questions.

The cake is a disaster.

“This is fine” you say, staring at the lopsided monstrosity you’ve just pulled out of the oven.

“It’s not fine” Shoko says, filming the whole thing, “This is a crime against baking”

“We’ll fix it!”

Shoko zooms in on the uneven frosting job as you frantically try to salvage the cake. “You’re lucky Satoru has no taste”

“Shut up and pass me the sprinkles”

By some miracle, everything comes together on the day of the party. The courtyard is decorated with streamers and balloons (and the Gojo cutout, which now has a party hat), the cake is… presentable, and a playlist of Gojo’s favorite obnoxious pop songs is ready to go.

The only problem is keeping him out of the area long enough to set everything up.

“That’s your job” you tell Shoko as you finish arranging the table, making sure the camera is set at the perfect angle, “Just stall him for an hour”

She rolls her eyes, “Sure. I’ll just tell him we’re doing a surprise intervention for his ego”

“That might actually work” Geto muses.

You shoo them both away and look towards the camera, “Okay, it’s almost time. If we can just keep him distracted a little longer, this might actually work—”

“Keep who distracted?”

You whip around to see Satoru standing behind you, his sunglasses pushed up onto his head and a suspicious look on his face.

“Uh—no one!” you say, trying to block his view of the decorations.

He steps closer, peering over your shoulder, “Is that… a cardboard version of me wearing a party hat?”

Panic sets in, “No! It’s for… science!”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, “Science?”

“Yes!” You grab his arm and start steering him away, “And you can’t be here because it’s classified science”

Why couldn’t you be better at lying?

He plants his feet, refusing to budge, “Classified, huh? Sounds fake”

“It’s not!”

But it’s too late. He’s already spotted the cake on the table, and the realization dawns on his face. A soft look, almost unnoticeable, appears on his face.

“You’re throwing me a party?”

You groan, dropping your hands, “We were trying to surprise you”

Satoru grins, looking entirely too pleased with himself, “Aww, you guys shouldn’t have”

“We really shouldn’t have” Shoko says, appearing with Geto behind him.

“Well, since you ruined the surprise” Geto adds, smirking, “you might as well enjoy it”

Despite the rocky execution, the party is a success. Satoru spends the evening teasing you all mercilessly while eating an alarming amount of cake and insisting on taking selfies with the cardboard cutout.

Later, as you’re cleaning up, he sidles up to you with a rare, genuine smile.

“Thanks for this. It was… nice”

You roll your eyes, “You’re welcome. But next year, you’re not getting anything”

“We’ll see about that” he says, ruffling your hair before wandering off to bother Shoko.

And even though it was chaotic, exhausting, and mildly traumatic, you can’t help but feel a little proud. Because for once, you managed to surprise the unbeatable Satoru Gojo—even if only for a moment.

The camera records the light blush that forms on your face as you smile at him without his notice.

taglist: @gumiiiiezzzz @reagan707

TUMBLR HAS ME FUMING WITH THAT BS ABOUT NOT LETTING ME ADD LINKS. HERE IS THE MASTERLIST LINK https://www.tumblr.com/laviefantasie/751113004215648256/the-gojos-video-diaries

[ssentimentals]

Hii I love your writing and saw your prompts, can I request a Vernon angst to fluff with promts "I woke up, and you were gone." "You're not a bad guy." and "You have a beautiful soul." "Whats on your mind? I want to listen." If it's too much just use some of this that feels okay with the story, thank you so muuuch. Love ya

hii! love you too and yep, i'm going to use only few of those if you don't mind :) thank you for requesting! 💜 hopefully you will like it!

hurt prompt: 'i woke up, and you were gone.' - 'you're not a bad guy.'

it feels weird to be in this position right now. with your avoidant attachment style, you are the one who runs away at the first signs of things geting serious in relationship; so right now to witness this in another person is... unusually weird. a bit hilarious too, if you are very honest. but mainly it's sad though. staring up at vernon right now, you want to find all of the correct words that can make him feel better because you know. you know what's going through his mind right now, you know how he's feeling - that's why instead of attacking, you sit quietly, giving him room to breathe.

'i woke up and you were gone,' you start gently, calmly. this is the least that vernon deserves - he's the sweetest boy, who made you want to work on yourself and your fears. you can tell that you make him feel the same and that scares him. 'any kind of note would've made me feel much better, because otherwise it looks like we- i mean, i think you know how it looks like.'

vernon grimaces, nodding. he hangs his head low and exhales loudly. 'i never wanted to make you think or feel that. i'm sorry.'

'i know,' you soothe him and gentleness in your voice makes him look up. 'you're not a bad guy, vernon. you came back, right?' he nods. 'why? why did you come back here, to me?'

vernon looks you in the eyes as he whispers in a broken voice: 'because i want you. because i didn't want- i got scared at first. not of you, but of what i feel for you. does that makes sense?'

you want to cry. but you hold on, nodding instead. 'it makes perfect sense.'

'really?' his whole face lights up. 'you... understand?' at your nod, he shakily inhales. 'then you know. i came back because i want you and i want us. i'm sorry that i haven't left a note, i'm sorry for making you feel, even for a second, that i left.'

you don't trust your voice not to break, so you open your arms, welcoming him in. vernon looks hesitant at first, but then he slowly moves towards you and when you two hug, he melts into you with a desperate longing that you know all too well.

'i want us too,' you whisper, because it's true and because he needs this confirmation. 'just no running away anymore, vernon. and i promise we can work this out.'

he nods and you know what he's thinking right now, knows what he's feeling right now. that's why you hug him even tighter, because you're not about to run away. not anymore, not with him.

a/n: request your own here! <3 - nini

[nothots-headempty]

Falling Apart

Charles Xavier × reader

Summary: when you're feeling awfully low, who'll be there to hold you? Hold you together?

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: seasonal depression, I think? That's abt it. Some evident mental instability

Authors note: wrote this because I couldn't get out of bed yesterday. Welcome to the child of my own bed-rotting, quite literally. Definitely not proof read 😔

I'll get to the requests now I think <3 woohooo

The door cracks open just a smidge, but the absolutely disgusted face you make is suggestive of some criminal destruction inflicted upon you.

It's been hours of this. Rotting in bed, sulking about absolutely nothing. That apprehensive haze lurking in the back of your mind like a minion with its fingers around your throat.

Erik checked in on you a while ago, Raven even asked you out for a walk around the neighbourhood.

If you looked so bad as to warrant an invitation to a stroll, you feared your condition was practically morbid.

It made no sense really - your life was great. In all practical senses, you were living the urban dream. You had great friends. An amazing boyfriend. Doing well at uni.

And yet one second you were alright, the next it seemed like the bed was as strong as a black hole, pulling you into the wonders of the concept of inactivity. Of letting things go and falling into an unending cycle of procrastination, food and malaise.

It almost seemed welcoming.

You groan, turning around with that same disgruntled frown on your mouth, your gaze meeting the face of the Professor himself. Right, time for some more advise and rebukes.

"Well, that's a great way to welcome me home.", he smiles, apparently oblivious to the state of your mind. He did love maintaining your privacy, especially mentally. But added on to your occasional lack of communication, there were moments you wished he didnt.

"Right, I'll be sure to throw you a parade at the end of tomorrow.", you roll your eyes. You know you're being unreasonable. What had he done in all of this? Nothing, at all.

And yet the words were out like you wanted him gone. Maybe in some twisted way, you did. Left alone to your own misery.

You shoot him one last glare, turning back with a huff to curl up on your side.

"Honey?" He sounds confused. You can feel the thoughts going through his head. Is it him? Did he do something wrong? What could he do? You curl up tighter.

Usually, you'd have jumped out of bed, put your arms around his neck, buried your face in his chest. Maybe, that would even have solved everything.

Not right now.

Your bones ached from the inside out, your eyes half shut from the tears you were holding back. If you looked at him right now, the paranoia would flow over into breakdown.

And we couldn't have that, could we? No.

You hear him shuffle closer. The shadow of his hand lands fleetingly over your shoulder, withdrawn just as soon as it appeared. It hurts to see him hold back around you. Especially, when you were the only one he reached out to without a second thought.

He's inches away now, his breath audible, a low hum that does something to you. Soothing.

Familiarity bleeds quite easily into comfort, you realise. His presence itself is a salve. Enough to disconnect the anxiety like a barrier from the world outside.

You want to feel his vest scratching against your cheek, the softness of his skin under your lips. Just that feeling of Charles. Of him just being.

You sigh. More tears are pricking at the edge of your eyes now and you scrunch the sheets tighter, trying and failing to stifle the sob that escapes your lips.

"Honey, no." His reaction is nearly instantaneous. Like that traitorous expression of your pain had freed him from his hesitance. He falls into the mattress, pulling you flush against his chest.

You think of protesting. Of putting up a front. Of sending him away like you did the others. But even the idea of him leaving now, of being in the cold bed without his embrace, the embrace you were literally wrapped in

It felt physically painful.

You let him get mold your posture to his body, his own breaths slowing to give you a benchmark to match up to. His hand comes up, desperate to make things right and yet the gesture is filled with uncertainty, fingers lingering on your arm as if he doesn't know if he is at all what you need right now.

You slip your fingers through his, pulling his hand to your chest. His relief is evident, his chin resting on your shoulder, a fleeting kiss left on your head.

"Want to talk about it?" And you know he means it when he asks. That he'd drop the topic immediately if you even sounded reluctant. And you loved him for it.

You pick his fingers out of yours, pressing two slender digits to your own head, a resigned smile on your lips as you wait for him to catch up.

You're immersed into that familiar feeling, of floating through something heavy, that buoyant peace that comes with his invasion into your mind. You're suddenly blank, neutral to your own thoughts, only an observer, and you allow yourself to relax. To let him take over.

You still dont want to face him though, allowing him to let the flurry, the deluge of mixed feelings run through his mind.

His grip on you tightens only seconds into it, his fingers leaving your forehead to find your cheek, asking you to turn to him. His eyes are wide, brows furrowing further as he watches your tear stained features contort into a feeble attempt at a smile.

"Love, you are one of the smartest people I know.", he starts, a stern edge to his voice. The comment catches you off-guard. Not because you hadn't heard it before. You had. A million times from his mouth, itself.

But because you only realise now how much you need his assurance. About everything, right now. How his decisive tone almost makes you believe the statement without doubt. Belief you hadn't felt seconds ago.

"But sometimes you can be so, so daft.", he laughs when you scrunch your nose. His forehead leaning against yours, he let's his hand run through your hair, waiting for you to sync your breaths with his, to lean into the silence that lingers.

"They're gonna love your dissertation. They'll be crazy if they don't." He seals the utterance in with a kiss to your forehead. You nod, brushing your nose against his as your fingers wrap into his vest.

"And then we'll have a Doctor in the house.", he looks thoughtful when he says it, like he adores the idea of it all.

You gift him with a small smile at that. "Not the kind of doctor we need, anyway.", you quip. You snuggle closer, letting him circle you in a bear hug. He smells nice, like lavender and warmth and something distinctly similar to home.

You can feel the drowsiness of the day catching up to you, sleep finally on the horizon after it had avoided you incessantly. Charles was all you had really needed.

"Love you.", you mumble, threading your fingers through his hair as you plant a kiss on his lips. He makes no attempt to deepen it, choosing instead to pepper your face with small pecks, stopping only when you burst into an involuntary fit of giggles.

His forehead rests against yours again, a sigh breathed into the space between you.

"Sorry, for being such a mess.", you go on, unable to stop the apologies from slipping out.

"A mess?", he inquires, finger tracing your lips, a light brush of skin on skin as it runs along your jaw to brush over your closed eyelids. "We're all allowed to let go sometimes, love."

He squeezes you tighter, your face hidden in his neck as the tears finally come loose, the dampness seeping through his vest. He doesn't pull away, doesn't make a show of it, his only acknowledgment lying in the way he runs his hand over your back, calming, protective.

"Just know I'll always hold you together when you fall apart.", he whispers next to your ear, the words spreading through you in a honey-like warmth.

"Hold you just like this"

[thegothicchangeling]

I made a compilation of Ambessa being a horrible parent on tiktok and someone left several comments defending her from that label and now I'm really upset so please indulge my rant.

First of all, I know Ambessa is a complex character. I know she's gone through a lot of trauma to make her how she is. She didn't deserve what happened to her, but Mel didn't deserve her trauma either.

Ambessa definitely loved her daughter, but she also resented her. Those things can be true at the same time. I think she resents Mel for being merciful, for being an affair baby, for being a mage. All things that are not her fault. Now that I've gotten those statements out of the way, let me walk you through every way Ambessa failed her daughter.

We all know how fucked up it is that she murdered a child in front of Mel, but I've never seen anyone talk about how she turned away first, letting her think she wouldn't go through with it. She was just trying to be cruel.

I've also never heard anyone discuss that when she says "perhaps she could be my daughter", its in response to Mel saying that the new ruler would need to be molded. The narrative literally tells you that Ambessa is a manipulative mother.

When she arrives in Piltover, the first thing she does is gaslight Mel about her banishment. Then when she's called out on it, she tries to smooth it over with a compliment and by throwing her arm around Mel, who of course knows exactly what she's doing.

Then when she's confronted on the fact that she banished her own child, she says it was because Mel weakened her. I will admit her care is more evident here, but even then she used Mel's pain as leverage to get her to vote for war by offering to let her come home.

In season 2 act 3, it's more of the same. But it's also worse.

Ambessa is obviously glad that Mel's alive, but she doesn't even hug her. I understand she has trouble showing affection, but still

And then she hits Mel. I don't care what you say, it's never okay to hit your kid. And honestly, I stand by Mel for what she said to her mom about letting Kino die.

Mel is the only one in the whole show who ever refers to her brother by name, and that seems intentional. Her flashback indicates that she looked up to him, and her time in the occulorum with Leblanc's illusion shows that the two had an emotionally open relationship and showed each other physical affection. Ambessa may have constantly kept Mel guessing how she felt about her, but she always knew Kino loved her. And now he's gone, and he's not coming back.

And then Ambessa says he was all the sweetness in her heart, basically admitting that Mel was none of it! She says she let him die to protect her! Why would she do that when it seems Kino was the favorite? Why would she do that when he, the oldest, would have been the de facto heir? Because Mel is a weapon. That's why she has to be protected. Because she's valuable to Ambessa's ambition.

And yet, she never told Mel she was a mage. She only sent her away. Away from her home, away from Kino's love, away from everything she knew.

Also, Ambessa talks shit about mages even though Mel IS one. That shit made me fume.

Mel begs her not to go through with her plans. She offers to go back to Noxus with her and help avenge Kino, but Ambessa won't listen. She won't even listen when Mel stops the execution and points out that her ambition has cost her Rictus and Kino. Instead, she has her soldiers turn their weapons on her own daughter. I doubt they would have killed her, but it's still a massive betrayal.

And her last words, though they are of pride, are devastating: "You are the wolf."

The very thing Mel fought not to become. The very thing she had to become to defeat her mother.

[yatagarasuhonyaku]

The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 1 "Shigemaru" Part 3

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.

Blog version

For the Index, you can find it HERE

Previously: Shigemaru (Part 2)

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

Chapter 1: Shigemaru (Part 3)

As they advanced through the practical courses, the instructors relentlessly rejected the skills Shigemaru and his fellow commoners had. In Archery, they asked them to fix their stance, denying them the chance to even nock an arrow, and this was hardly the only subject where their basics—or lack thereof—got them scolded: they were stuck practicing blocking in Martial Arts, and in Swordsmanship all they did was relearning how to stand and hold their sword from zero.

Day after day, all they got were corrections. It was all how to hold their bows, the proper methods to block, and sword practice swings. Understandably enough, it had taken a toll on everyone’s motivation.

“...... You know, I’m really starting to suspect they're discriminating against us.”

The moment was after having gone through all practical courses at least once. By that point, their group study sessions had become a nightly event. To call it that was, however, a bit of an overstatement—in practice, they just came together to copy Yukiya's homework. They had gathered in Shigemaru and Yukiya’s dormitory room at first, but the number of petitioners had just kept on growing. Once the new additions to their group became more than three, they had no option but to change locations to an empty room instead.

Their little gathering was strictly composed of commoners from all kinds of places. There, facing his blank homework with a sullen look, was Kitsupei, a boy from the Eastern Region and the one who had just voiced his suspicions about discrimination. He had been the target of more corrections than anyone else during Swordsmanship that very day.

“What's up, all of a sudden?” Shigemaru looked up from his own homework, dropping his brush on the inkstone.

“There's nothing sudden about it!” Kitsupei complained. He seemed incapable of holding it in any longer. “I've thought about it from the start. Theory? I can still accept it, you know. After being in the same class, I can tell how smart Akeru and the others are.”

The problem lied in the practical courses. Commoners like them came to the Monastery because someone had recognized their sword skills or their physical prowess. Yet, in truth, they hadn’t even been given a chance to shine and just got reprimanded nonstop. It made him suspect—what if this was just silent harassment? What if they were trying to make them quit?

“But the instructors aren’t saying anything to Akeru and his followers. This is just unfair!”

Immediately, the other trainees jumped at the chance to air out their grievances, all in unanimous agreement.

“I’ve been thinking that as well.”

“Me too!”

“I was the best with a sword back home, and here I am! Stuck on simple practice swings!” Hisaya, quite prone to outbursts himself, pouted.

“If only they let us join free training, we could show them all we are capable of,” even Tatsuto, who wasn’t usually the kind to complain, joined in on the conversation.

“I bet Kashin is actually ridiculing us behind our backs!” a furious Kitsupei interjected again.

If they kept going like that, things would surely end badly. Struck by such a premonition and concerned about the consequences this little venting session would have if left unchecked, Shigemaru clapped his hands in an attempt to clear the room’s heavy atmosphere.

“Come on, come on! If you have the energy to complain, start moving those hands instead. As long as you have the skill, it’s just a matter of waiting to show it to them once we start with matches.”

“But Shige! We don't even know if they'll let us participate in the first place.”

“Does it really not bother you too, Shige?”

The entire group turned to stare at him all gloomily, and Shigemaru was at a loss on what to do next. He hadn’t ever intended it to work this way, but ever since everyone started to imitate Yukiya’s nickname for him, he had, in practice, become the group’s unofficial leader and mediator. While with power came responsibility and the last thing he wanted was to provoke a fight with the Court Ravens, he was the first one to have concerns on the matter.

At the same time as Shigemaru’s group struggled with their assignments, those from noble families were apparently handling both theory and practice with marked ease, and of them all, Akeru, who acted as the year’s Court Ravens representative, stood out as particularly talented. Horsemanship aside, Shigemaru still had yet to ever see him get reprimanded even once, so the boy had started to become a target of resentment and jealousy among the suffering commoners.

Meanwhile, Shigemaru and the other commoners were being constantly put on blast by the instructors. Even if he didn’t believe it to be out of prejudice, there had to be some reason for it. One they just weren’t seeing.

Shigemaru was thinking, trying to somehow find a good answer to the situation, when someone’s oblivious, carefree voice interrupted the scene. 

“Good job, everyone!” Yukiya, who had been absent until a moment ago, had just returned. “I just went to the kitchen to get some tea leaves. I even ended up picking up some dried sweet potato to go with it, so how about taking a short break?”

Yukiya greeted them with a bright smile on his lips. Up until a moment ago, the rest of the group had all been bad-mouthing Court Ravens, yet now they found themselves looking away out of sheer embarrassment. Yukiya had been helping them so much that nobody in the room was about to say anything against him, not willingly at least.

“...... Is something wrong?” Yukiya soon asked them. It seemed he hadn’t missed the room’s odd atmosphere.

As a panicked Hisaya jumped to deny the notion, Shigemaru stopped him. Thinking about it, asking for Yukiya’s opinion was probably the best thing they could do given the circumstances. Indeed, once Shigemaru told him the truth of what had happened, Yukiya didn’t even seem bothered by the group’s criticism of Court Ravens.

“Oh, I see. But I think you’re misunderstanding something,” he calmly denied their suspicions. “Right now, what they’re teaching us are all techniques geared towards official tournaments.”

“Official tournaments? Why would they do that?”

“This is the Unbending Reed Monastery, remember? You can’t have the Imperial Family’s private guard acting like hooligans, can you? That’s why they’re teaching us how to battle in a respectable manner, not fight like thugs. Your average Yatagarasu, who’s had no formal training, is not going to know how to do that. Corrections are bound to happen. I really get why you’re so angry,” Yukiya answered as if to mediate. “But, over anything else, bad habits could ultimately lead to injury, so to obey now is for your own future’s sake as well. Sure, Instructor Kashin may be bad-mouthed, but there hasn’t been anything wrong with his corrections.”

“...... Really?”

Recognizing if there was anything off with the corrections they got was beyond the capabilities of Shigemaru and the others—their shared confusion must have been obvious, because Yukiya turned to them once more.

“There’s no need to worry,” he added in a bright tone. “Akeru wasn’t scolded at all, that’s true, but it has nothing to do with his status as a scion of the Western House. I would bet he had a very good master who trained him even before coming here.”

Which meant that Akeru didn’t get any corrections simply because there wasn’t any need for them in the first place. While it was a relief to know the instructors weren’t playing favorites, the group couldn’t help but to panic as well at the therefore unknown skill gap.

They all had difficult expressions on their faces, yet Yukiya didn’t seem particularly concerned about it. “I take it you're worried about the existing gap with the nobles, aren’t you? But, you know, your ability to perform some exercises in a dojo doesn’t determine your strength in actual combat. I’m sure that if you went against them in a match right now, you would be the clear winners.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I mean, they clearly aren’t used to fighting. You can tell just by looking at them,” Yukiya’s eyes partially closed and the corners of his mouth moved upwards, yet one couldn’t in good faith call that expression a ‘smile’. “I’ve been watching everyone long enough to tell how much potential everyone actually has. It shows, you know? That all of you were selected for your skills in arms. Few could surpass you as far as sheer physical capability goes.”

“Wait—you’ve spent all this time watching others during lessons!? And here I am completely overwhelmed just dealing with my own stuff!” Kitsupei exclaimed, equally amazed and exasperated. 

“Anyway, let’s put aside those who, like me, come from warrior families and are Court Ravens in name only. I have a strong suspicion that Akeru and his followers will show their true colors very soon,” Yukiya confidently affirmed.

In answer, the entire group glanced at each other.

“Fine. Then, let’s just trust Yukiya and work hard for now. How about that?” Shigemaru asked.

“Let’s do that!”

“Sure, let’s.” Even those who had been strongly complaining just a moment ago nodded along. Leaving aside the matter of how trustworthy Yukiya was on the subject, Shigemaru just found himself tremendously relieved after seeing everyone agree and calm down for the time being.

But then, it only took a few days for the group to discover that Yukiya’s predictions had been mostly correct.

First of all, it became obvious that the instructors weren’t discriminating against anyone. As soon as they learned how to move as taught, the commoners started to join free training as well. The wooden swords they used to practice their swings were henceforth replaced by bamboo ones instead. It brought Shigemaru joy to see his friends holding them, looking entirely revitalized. However, this was also when reality came in to prove Yukiya's guesswork fallible.

While Akeru’s followers were losing against his friends one after another, the boy himself managed to protect his position at the top. Those who held animosity against him went to challenge him as soon as they were deemed worthy to join, yet none of them proved capable of winning against him with any form of consistency. 

“He may not be accustomed to fighting, but he seems quite used to dojo swordfighting,” Shigemaru commented to Yukiya during one of their breaks while he wiped away his sweat.

Yukiya forced a smile. “It seems like it. At the very least, it’s clear he trained quite a lot before coming here.”

At the moment, their topic of conversation himself looked to be extremely angry. Shigemaru couldn’t quite tell why, maybe because of his followers’ terribly poor showing?

“I may have underestimated him.” 

There was an air of superiority to Yukiya as he said that, one which gave Shigemaru quite the urge to point out something. “You sure act like you’re above him, but you didn’t even make a good showing in your own matches.”

“Ah, were you watching me?”

“When waiting in between turns, yes. Won’t it be a problem for you if things keep going like that?” 

Even though Yukiya had been talking big behind others’ backs, his skills with a sword weren’t anything to write home about. His basics were just fine and he moved well and fast, so Shigemaru hadn’t had any cause for concern before they started free training instead. Then, when it came to the moment of truth, Yukiya didn’t try to attack even once. Even when instructors loudly scolded him for going on the defensive like that, Yukiya would only laugh and make no noticeable attempt to fix his ways whatsoever.

——Maybe, in reality, it was Yukiya who wasn’t used to fighting.

Most importantly, practical courses mattered a lot more than theory in the Monastery Trials. Shigemaru had been too worried about himself to pay any mind to others up until then, but, when he realized that Yukiya may be the one in danger of dropping out, it became his main concern instead.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! I’ll figure it out by the Trial of Gale.” And yet the boy himself couldn’t be more happy-go-lucky.

With their break over, they went back to the dojo as they chatted. No matter how much they tried to ventilate it, the place still reeked of sweat but, fortunately, they had all gotten used to it by that point. Once inside, they put on protective equipment for their knees and elbows and covered their heads with newly woven feather robes, all before they were even told to do so.

What awaited them, despite Shigemaru’s expectations on the contrary, wasn't free training as before. Instead, the instructors announced that they would be moving on to proper, formal matches instead. In such a format, the victor was usually determined on a best of three basis but, to build up the trainees’ endurance and to get them used to it, they had decided to have three rounds no matter who took the points this time around.

The assistants moved to stand in the middle of the dojo, forming a square with their bodies to mark the limits of the venue. Meanwhile, Shigemaru and Yukiya sat together in the front row as spectators, just slightly behind the line formed by the instructors. 

Kashin took on the role of referee and stood right in the center as he started to call for different trainees.

“Red, 3-2’s Akeru. Come forward.”

Akeru immediately stepped forwards, taking the red strap, with an overflowing air of superiority. He must have been expecting Kashin’s call.

“White, 1-1’s Chihaya. Come forward.”

Shigemaru wasn’t particularly familiar with Akeru’s opponent. He could remember crossing paths with him during classes, but they had never actually talked and he had no memory of the boy saying anything during any of the many different self-introductions either. Chihaya hadn’t left much of an impression on him, that was for sure.

As Shigemaru reflected on that, he gave Chihaya a look. One could tell just from appearance alone that he was a man of few words. His mouth was sealed in one thin, straight line, so tightly attached together that one couldn’t be blamed for thinking he may have never opened it even once ever since he was born.

He was tall and had a good, firm build, yet, perhaps because of his long face and sharp cheekbones, he instead gave off the impression of being overly thin and sickly. He had long bangs covering his face, and sharp eyes with characteristic small irises(1) peeked through from under them.

The two of them being chosen for the first formal match most likely meant that they were the most skilled trainees at present, at least according to the instructors. Chihaya tied the white strap on his hips and went to stand in front of Akeru, who was already waiting for him at the starting line. Once both trainees were ready to proceed, Kashin exchanged looks with his assistants. They all nodded.

“Start!”

The moment the match began, Akeru raised his voice as he prepared to attack. On the other hand, Chihaya stood there motionless and silent, watching him. Akeru seemed to hesitate for a second, unnerved by something, only to ultimately still go on the offensive immediately after. For a trainee, Akeru was nimble. He moved remarkably fast as he closed in and slashed downwards with his bamboo sword.

And yet, the next second, that same sword was cutting air.

It all happened in a second. Chihaya had twisted his body ever so slightly to dodge the hit and, with his bamboo sword held only in his left hand, he struck Akeru’s torso. The blow was strong enough for the sound of it to fill the entire room. Two of the assistants raised their left arms simultaneously—white straps in their hands.

“White, one point!”

——It had been so fast, Shigemaru’s eyes were unable to keep up.

Finally, the main referee raised his left arm as well and, having confirmed his victory, Chihaya simply fixed the neck of his kimono. It wasn’t particularly out of place to begin with. Meanwhile, Akeru just stood there, in complete shock, for a while before he returned to the starting line. His expression was clearly strained.

“Start!”

This time around, Akeru didn’t raise his voice or rush to the offensive the moment the match started. He instead opted for slight movements, carefully swaying the tip of his sword as he watched for Chihaya to attack first.

After a while, Chihaya moved. He stepped forward with ease, so much so that it was hard to believe he could pull it off during an actual match. He had been initially holding his sword with both hands, but it was now only held in his right hand. Akeru tried to defend himself, but his sword was snapped away from him by an upwards swing.

The bamboo sword spun in midair as it flew in the direction of the spectating trainees. By the time it fell to the ground—the boys around it dodging it in a panic—Chihaya had taken another point with ease by hitting a weaponless Akeru’s head.

“What was that…?” Shigemaru heard someone murmur. Not like he had any idea either—the difference between the two was just too stark.

After losing two points in such rapid succession, Akeru was pale as a sheet and, while this would have been the end of it in a normal three-point match, he had no option but to go through another round due to the circumstances.

Once Akeru had taken back his sword, both opponents returned to their starting positions. At that point, their expressions couldn’t be more different from one another. While the determination in Akeru's face made it clear he wouldn't be satisfied unless he could get at least one hit in, Chihaya seemed to be completely indifferent towards his opponent either way.

“Start!” 

Akeru went for a stab with a loud yell the second the third duel commenced. Yet, Chihaya hadn’t even bothered to get into a proper stance anymore, and instead of making any big effort to dodge Akeru's sword, he opted for barely moving his neck to elude the attack. With his sword held only in his left hand, Chihaya immediately went for a slash and landed a hit on his opponent's temple.

It was enough to send Akeru flying, and he ended up falling harshly to the ground with no chance to do a proper landing. The exact kind of crash that tended to cause more worry for the spectator than the victim.

“White, one point! Hey, are you alright?”

As soon as he announced the initial verdict, a panicking Kashin rushed to Akeru's side. The boy soon sat up and, even though he seemed unharmed, the expression on his face made it obvious that he couldn't understand what had just happened to him. In the meantime, Chihaya merely returned to the starting line without even glancing in Akeru’s direction, as inexpressive as always. Afterwards, they both bowed to each other, marking the end of the match.

It was clear the instructors hadn't expected this kind of unilateral result. Although, after a short discussion between them, they finally started to call trainees again, and neither Chihaya nor Akeru took part in another match that day.

“You're amazing!”

“I had no idea you were that strong!”

“Who the hell taught you how to use a sword like that!?”

After the match, Chihaya became a bit of a celebrity.

A group of trainees had gathered around him, all trying to strike up a conversation at once. Although many of them seemed to be driven by their dislike of Akeru, as one could have guessed, plenty had simply been taken by his skill with a sword from the looks of it, and while Chihaya himself gave no sign whatsoever of answering any of their many rapid questions, the people surrounding him proved to be too excited to care about that.

The evening classes had reached their end, so the trainees were on their way back from the dojo. A good distance behind Chihaya and his group of admirers were the study group regulars, all walking together.

“Dammit. I wanted to be the first to crush Akeru.”

“Nonono. I could have won against him, I just had to land another hit on him.”

As Kitsupei and Hisaya said that, grinding their teeth, Tatsuto sighed. “So you two were also incapable of defeating him……”

“Shut up!”

“What the hell are you going on about? You didn’t get a proper win against him either, Tatsuto.”

Shigemaru, pointedly ignoring his friends’ argument, glanced in Akeru's direction instead. “That aside, is Akeru truly okay after that?”

Although Akeru himself was silent, simply holding a wet towel to his temple, Shigemaru could see his followers staring daggers towards Chihaya’s enthusiastic group of admirers. 

“Well, it may look otherwise, but Chihaya was almost certainly holding back. I doubt there's any real concern for injury. The actual problem is—” Yukiya started to explain something before stopping all of a sudden, noticeably blinking. 

“What's wrong?” Shigemaru followed Yukiya's gaze. Upon realizing, he let out an unconscious ‘yikes’.

“Chihaya! I've heard you got quite the achievement today.”

Silence fell upon the entire group of Seeds once they saw who was coming towards them. Nobody knew how he had learned about the recent events, but Kimichika of Minami-Tachibana was nevertheless approaching them from the direction of the dining hall. Even Chihaya’s admirers retreated one step, scared of the Sapling closing in. Kimichika, however, paid them no mind and amiably patted Chihaya's shoulder instead. 

“And on top of that, you thoroughly crushed that Western House brat! Is that true?” As Chihaya himself didn't say anything in answer, Kimichika instead looked up towards a certain group of trainees who, pointedly ignoring him, had tried to move along. “Hey, Akeru, is it true?”

At his call, Akeru stopped in his tracks. He turned around towards Kimichika with barely concealed rage. “......Yes, I lost. So what.”

“I see, I see. That's amazing. You seem to be unaware, my Lord, but Chihaya, the one to defeat you, is a Hill Raven working for my House.” Kimichika pointed at Chihaya with his chin, while Chihaya only stood there without uttering a single word. But then, if he served Kimichika's house, that only meant one thing—he was part of the Animiya faction. “For someone like you, who put on airs over being Wakamiya's faithful servant, that must be the last person you would want to lose against. Oh, what a shame for you, both as a Court Raven and a faction representative.”

Kimichika let out an unpleasant laugh. Meanwhile, Akeru remained expressionless, his lips trembling, before finally sighing quietly. All things considered, he had recovered his composure surprisingly fast.

“I'm sorry to say this when you're enjoying my loss so much, but this may be your last chance to do so.”

“Huh?”

“Well, His Majesty the Emperor is going to abdicate the throne in favor of His Highness. It has been decided already.”

“——What!?”

“There should be an official announcement very soon. Now I wonder—for how much longer will the South still be able to act like pretentious fools?” Akeru spoke decisively.

Clear shock replaced the boastful look on Kimichika's face. This must have been news to him. He wasn’t the only one—even the onlookers, incapable of containing themselves any longer, stopped holding their breaths and started a ruckus.

Seeing that from the corner of his eyes, Akeru smiled ever so slightly. “It’s just the truth of the matter. It’s why His Highness couldn't attend the entrance ceremony. The imperial council on the matter took longer than expected, it seems.”

Instead of targeting Kimichika, who was speechless and seemingly deep in thought, Akeru turned towards the so-far mute Chihaya immediately afterwards.

“Chihaya. What a shame. To get kicked out over politics with your master here despite your enormous talent. Luck sure doesn’t seem to favor you, tying you to someone like him. If only you were serving someone in the Wakamiya faction,” Akeru said sardonically.

Chihaya’s gaze was still downcast, fixed on the ground. Finally, he murmured something. “...... I don’t care about either faction.”

Although Akeru's eyes widened from surprise as well, it was Kimichika who seemed the most shocked by his words. “Hey! What the fuck are you saying? Come here, right now!”

Kimichika grabbed him and dragged Chihaya away from everyone without even giving him a chance to say his farewells. Having watched both of them disappear in the distance, a still dumbfounded Shigemaru let out a groan before speaking. “...... The situation is about to get real weird, ain't it?”

As a witness of those two’s relationship and their obvious lack of anything even resembling trust, Shigemaru was overcome by the most terrible feeling. And, just one hour(2) later, it too proved to be a reality at dinnertime.

“——You shit, would you stop with the damn attitude already!?”

The trainees were in the middle of cleanup when a furious scream resonated through the dining hall. Everyone immediately turned to the direction it came from.

“What's going on?”

“A fight?”

Usually, the instructors were the first ones to take care of their trays, followed by Evergreens and Saplings in that order, so by that point the only ones still present were Seeds. And yet, Shigemaru saw a familiar someone with a characteristic hooked nose striking a pose in the distance.

“Isn't that Chihaya and Kimichika?”

“Huh, where did Kimichika's followers go?”

“Useless when it truly matters.” As Shigemaru and Yukiya whispered among themselves, the conversation between Kimichika and Chihaya took yet another turn for the worse.

“I'll say it once more, Chihaya. Clean. My. Tray.” Kimichika’s voice was trembling, barely holding in the desire to scream at Chihaya.

Meanwhile, Chihaya remained seated, motionless and completely unfazed by Kimichika's overbearing attitude. “I refuse.”

“Why!?”

“No reason.” While Chihaya wasn't someone one would call talkative, that had been enough to grasp the situation. As Kimichika tried to drop his tray where Chihaya was, the other only refused stubbornly.

“I'm ordering you as your senior! You are supposed to listen to me, no matter what!” Kimichika yelled again.

Chihaya briefly looked up at him and snorted. Kimichika's face was twisted in pure rage—they must have repeated this particular exchange a bunch of times already. Shigemaru expected him to yell once more, yet Kimichika's expression suddenly changed into one of abnormal calm.

“You know what'll happen if you disobey me, right? You haven't forgotten, by any chance?”

Chihaya glanced back questioningly, and Kimichika’s lips curved. “It's not only a you problem, you know—or should I give you a reminder of that?” 

Kimichika’s words were dripping with confidence. That very second, the look in Chihaya’s eyes drastically changed. His until then characteristic indifference had been quickly replaced by unbridled anger. Even though Kimichika had been the one to provoke him first, he found himself balking at the abnormal atmosphere surrounding Chihaya.

“...... What. Do you plan to defy me?”

Chihaya stood up. He moved effortlessly and silently.

——Shit, things were about to get real bad.

At the realization, Shigemaru’s eyes darted around the hall and found everyone else standing frozen in place. Left with no alternative, Shigemaru finally steeled his resolve—just as someone else beside him moved first.

“Ooops, my bad, I slipped!”

A mix of grilled eggplant, chilled wheat noodles and miso soup splashed all over Kimichika's nape. As for who had screamed, it was none other than Yukiya, who had somehow managed to sneak behind him without making any noise. On top of that—and this couldn't just be Shigemaru's imagination—he had actually made a point to gather all of his leftovers before slipping unnoticed and throwing his entire bowl's contents on Kimichika.

Yukiya, you bastard, you did it! Shigemaru barely restrained himself from laughing out loud as he ran in their direction as well.

“Aah, I'm sorry! What a bad idea, though, to stand idly in the middle of the room. The other Saplings have already cleaned their trays and left, so what keeps you here?” Yukiya tried to apologize, but the delivery was the very picture of stiffness. He used his own sleeve to clean Kimichika’s face, or so he made it look. In practice, he was just smearing the mashed eggplant even further.

Incapable of comprehending the sudden development, Kimichika and Chihaya stood there as unmoving as statues for a while.

“You, fucking little runt!” As Kimichika finally came to his senses, he shook off Yukiya's hand and screamed in indignation. Truth be told, not even Shigemaru could blame him for that. This wasn’t the moment to laugh at Kimichika’s hysterics, however, so he instead rushed to the group and put himself in the middle.

“Now, now, please calm down. My friend here didn't mean to do anything bad! He's just tired from the practical courses, you see, so his footing wasn't that good. Right, Yukiya?”

“Yes, exactly! I didn't intend to do it,” Yukiya said as he meekly bowed in apology.

Understandably, Kimichika wasn't fooled by that. “Don't fuck with me! If you didn't intend to do it, then why were you here of all places!?”

The dining hall was huge. There was quite the distance from the spot of the incident to the place where everyone left their trays. Around nine meters(3), in fact.

Shigemaru and Yukiya exchanged glances. “Why were you here?”

“Taking a walk.”

“Taking a walk, he says.”

“Do you two fuckers want to die by my hand that badly?” Kimichika's tone was low, and one could see blue veins bulging in his forehead. Then, just as Shigemaru was wondering how to dodge the question, Kimichika took a better look at their faces out of the blue. “Ah, you two are from the North, right? Well, you Hill Ravens from the countryside may not know it, but the Minami-Tachibana are quite influential even in the Center.”

Stunned by the out of nowhere bragging, Shigemaru stared blankly at him.

“So?” It was just Shigemaru’s honest reaction, but the corners of Kimichika's lips twitched.

“...... You don’t even know that? Rokon, one of Lord Natsuka's first and most important retainers, was known by a different name before(4). None other than Michichika of Minami-Tachibana. He’s, in other words, my older brother. I wonder what kinds of inconveniences await you once he learns you made fun of his little brother?”

“Even if that may be the case, we won’t exactly come asking for your mercy. There’s no need for you to worry.” Before Shigemaru even got a chance to talk, Yukiya had already resolutely dismissed him. “Still, you sure are crude and boring, aren't you? Who brings up his brother's influence that easily? And just to bully a couple of juniors! Don't you have, I don't know, any better options?”

From Yukiya’s tone, he sounded as if he was about to sigh and, just like that, Kimichika's air of importance crumbled away.

“What’s a lowly servant like you doing talking back to me!? As if you know anything!” Kimichika grabbed him by the collar and raised his fist as if to hit him, yet Yukiya stared back at him as if the entire situation wasn't even his problem. Shigemaru could tell Yukiya was fully planning to take the incoming punch—but it never came.

The second before it came to happen, Shigemaru intercepted Kimichika's arm. “Could you wait a moment, please?”

With his arm seized, Kimichika stared at him in confusion. He wasn’t the only one—Yukiya, who had been quite accepting of his fate, did so as well.

“Why did you grab me!?”

“You see, had this been a senior fed up with his junior's attitude, I would get it. However, I can't just stand aside when you make it about status.” The Unbending Reed Monastery was a place where might makes right. Within its walls, one's family status had no bearing whatsoever. They had been told that much very recently. “What’s the point of coming here if we're going to be ridiculed for our birth!? And, of all people, you definitely have no right to do so!”

Shigemaru's shout resounded like thunder as it traveled through the entire hall. Kimichika gulped ever so slightly, but stubbornly stared back at him instead of balking. “Let me go.”

“First let Yukiya go.” Shigemaru was still a Seed, but he was larger than Kimichika. Admittedly, he had no idea how long he could keep up against a Sapling, someone with an extra year of experience over him, but he hoped to at least give him a scare if it came down to blows.

Then, in the middle of such a tense atmosphere, support came from the unlikeliest of places. “Sapling Kimichika, I would recommend you stop right there.”

“Huuh?” Kimichika’s natural enemy had arrived along with his followers. “Akeru, you shit, coming to talk back to your seniors as well?”

“It looked to me as if you were speaking not as their senior but as a Court Raven, or am I mistaken? So, as a fellow Court Raven, let me warn you about something.”

“About what?”

“The person you just derogatively called a ‘lowly servant’ and attempted to punch isn't who you think—but a legitimate scion of the Northern House.”

Shigemaru turned in astonishment to Yukiya, whose face looked like he had just eaten something foul. Akeru casted a glance at his reaction as well, yet he didn’t seem to care as he kept on dispassionately disclosing the details.

“He's the grandson of the man at the very top of all warrior families—the Northern Lord, Great General Gen'ya. Within the Northern House, he’s fourth in rank, only behind the Heir and his firstborn son. Truly a Court Raven among Court Ravens.”

“This guy…?” Kimichika blurted out, completely dumbfounded.

Yukiya, meanwhile, seemed to be completely done with the entire situation. “Eh, that may be the case, yes, I guess.”

Upon the sudden discovery of an unknown high noble among their midst, shock ran through the Seeds, who had been watching with bated breath. Whispers soon spread like ripples throughout the entire hall. However, as the murmurs continued, a figure appeared from the hallway—it was none other than Seiken. Someone had to have gone to call for him.

Kimichika softly clicked his tongue.

“What's happening here?”

That was a question with no easy answer.

They all went silent for a while. In the end, the first one to raise his hand was Yukiya. “I tripped and dropped some miso soup on my senior here.”

“Oh,” Seiken didn’t react at all beyond a murmur, his expression unchanged. He turned towards Kimichika. “Is that correct?”

Being the actual source of the problem as he was, Kimichika was left in no position to disagree or argue. He made a bitter face. “It is, yes.”

Seiken gave them a small nod. “I see, I get it now. First of all, Yukiya. A warrior shouldn’t be tripping and causing others harm. Apologize to your senior.”

“Yes. My apologies, Sapling Kimichika,” Yukiya obediently bowed towards him.

Seiken watched Kimichika as the boy looked down on Yukiya with a very sour face. As he proceeded, his manner of speech remained matter-of-factly. “Now, Kimichika. You should have been able to dodge something like that, I hope you realize. To explode like that and raise your voice against a Seed is also unbecoming of you.”

“...... I apologize.”

“Both sides were in the wrong, so it should be fine to leave it at that. Any issues?” Seiken said. Then, he just quietly watched both trainees.

“None.”

“It’s fine with me.”

So neither side had complaints. “Very well. You two, better learn from this. Your punishment shall be to work together to clean this mess. Understood?”

——In short, Seiken let them all go scot-free.

Both boys immediately agreed and saluted their instructor. Seiken gave them a pleased smile and, with that matter settled, he turned his gaze towards Akeru instead. “Good job mediating.”

“Oh, I couldn't simply stand aside as a Court Raven in the same faction as Yukiya,” Akeru calmly answered in turn.

“I won’t deny that but,” Seiken continued with his usual smile, “I don't recommend bringing up house matters like that in the Monastery. It may have worked here, but it wasn't really your place to reveal Yukiya’s status like that.”

Akeru was clearly not used to getting any warnings from the instructors. His eyes widened, caught by surprise, before he frowned and looked up at Seiken in defiance.

“...... Instructor Seiken, who do you side with? The Animiya Faction, or Wakamiya's?”

Prompted by Akeru's question, Kimichika’s gaze became piercing. He wasn't the only one either—all the trainees in the hall turned towards Seiken at once. Yet the man didn't hesitate—not even for a second—, that faint smile of his unshaken. Not even a situation like this was enough to break through his usual gentle demeanor.

“There's not much meaning in such a question. Lord Natsuka has expressed his wish to serve His Highness Wakamiya, so I don’t think such factions are a good fit for the current state of affairs.”

“That's just officially, isn't it? In practice, the Imperial Court is divided into them.”

“Even if that's the case,” Seiken calmly looked at the increasingly emotional Akeru, “The Monastery is a facility to raise members of the Yamauchi Guard, those who shall serve the Imperial Family. It would be wrong to pay undue attention to factions or any hierarchy beyond that of the Golden Raven himself. Even if the person is part of the Imperial Family. Besides, first and foremost, I'm an instructor here at the Monastery.”

Seiken's tone was no different whatsoever from what he used during lessons. “Whatever the state of politics may be, my duty is to support this facility's trainees.” Akeru was left with no arguments, and Seiken gave him a concerned look. “If you obsess so much over what's going on outside, you'll miss what's happening around you. Do be careful.”

“——So? Can someone explain to me what's going on?” Ichiryuu asked, his eye twitching.

“Well, as Instructor Seiken told us to do, we were cleaning the dining hall until a moment ago. Kimichika left early despite being told to do it too, though. It's honestly already a miracle we received no real punishment, which is why we have no intention to tell on him, all things considered. It was truly lucky for us that it was Instructor Seiken,” Shigemaru replied.

“No, no, I don't care about that part,” Ichiryuu grumbled. “What I actually want to know is why exactly this room has an additional Seed now!”

There were actually three boys sitting squarely in front of the scowling Ichiryuu. Yukiya, Shigemaru—and Chihaya.

“Oh, that’s because of Kimichika! He was the one in charge of mentoring Chihaya, but he went and kicked him out of their room.”

He had been the cause of the entire incident, yet Chihaya ended up being completely ignored midway through. As Shigemaru was painfully aware they had just made matters worse for him, he couldn’t bring himself to ignore his plight.

“As long as we make it in time for the morning roll call, I've heard that the instructors don't care what we do outside of lessons. Sapling Ichiryuu, he truly has nowhere to go. Won't you let him remain here in the tenth room with us?”

“No freaking way. The room is already tiny as-is, and you're asking me for permission to make it worse?” The main interested party, Chihaya, kept up his glum silence in a corner of the room, unwilling to cooperate. Meanwhile, the obviously dissatisfied Ichiryuu was at his wit’s end, holding his head. “Don't you get it? Mind to remember that due to your size, Shigemaru, my own space is already reduced to only a quarter of the entire? I'm a Sapling, I'm not supposed to have so little space to sleep!”

“Don't be so stingy! You're our senior, right?”

“Then tell me, juniors, who exactly are the ones forcing their senior to go through such a humiliation?”

“We just have to take the partition screen away, don't we?” Yukiya said, a rather blatant attempt to poke fun at him.

“No fucking way,” Ichiryuu growled in response before, finally, covering his face with his hands. “Besides, this entire mess was because of Kimichika, right? I told you not to get involved with him! I knew it already, somehow, but I see you truly don't listen to what I say,” Ichiryuu lamented to himself.

“Is Kimichika unpopular even among the Saplings?” Shigemaru asked him.

“Huh? Ah, yes……” Ichiryuu responded bitterly. “There are rumors that he only passed last year's trial because some instructor with ties to the South is playing favorites with him. His personality is awful and he's as dumb as a brick, so nobody outside his circle of Southern people likes him. He’s somewhat strong though, I’ll give him that.”

“Stronger than you, Sapling Ichiryuu?”

“Cut it out! Anyway, he's someone who you would expect to get kicked out because of his personality alone.”

That kind of insolent behavior was a constant of his and he was always surrounded by his own Southern followers, according to Ichiryuu. Taking care of their own trays after dinner was a rule that applied to everyone, be it instructor or trainee. Kimichika’s disrespect for the rules was, ultimately, the actual source of the problem.

——Disregarding the Monastery's rules was a massive issue in itself, so the house he came from didn't even matter. At that moment, just as that thought crossed his mind, Shigemaru happened to remember something else—the real identity of the boy sitting right beside him, Yukiya.

“Actually, now that we’re talking about that—so you were an actual young master,” Shigemaru nonchalantly said to him.

“Wait a moment!” Yukiya, on the other hand, panicked all of a sudden. “I didn’t lie per se when I said I was from Taruhi. It's just—my birth mother is from the Northern House. That's all! So, you see……” Yukiya's voice started to fizzle out until it completely died off. He looked at Shigemaru with an upwards gaze. “Are you angry?”

From the looks of it, Yukiya was genuinely scared of his reaction.

“Why would I be?” Shigemaru, puzzled, asked back. “I said it before, remember? I have no intention to judge others over the circumstances of their birth. If I hated you simply because you're a noble, then I wouldn't be any different from Kimichika, would I?”

“Shige!” Yukiya exclaimed. The boy was oddly yet clearly moved by his words and, to Shigemaru, that made for quite the amusing reaction.

“Ah, but don't ask me to treat you with that kind of respect after all this time. It won't happen,” Shigemaru took his chance to tease him.

“Who would say an idiotic thing like that!?” Yukiya shouted. “I'm actually glad to hear that.”

“And I thought you would say so! So, business as usual for us.”

After spectating the entire conversation with plain concern in his eyes, Ichiryuu finally sighed in relief. With that problem solved, he instead turned his head slightly, glancing at Chihaya, who hadn't uttered a word ever since he had arrived.

“...... Well, if there's no alternative, fine. Listen, Chihaya, I don't mind if you spend the nights here, but you better not cause any further issues. No fights and, please, let's coexist in peace.” Otherwise, Ichiryuu’s utter failure as a mentor would catch even the instructors’ attention.

However, Chihaya's answer was as blunt as it was cold. “I refuse.”

At first, Ichiryuu wasn't able to grasp what Chihaya had just said.

“W-What?” His voice shook. He hadn’t said anything strange as the room's senior, it could even be said to have been the absolute bare minimum. Why would Chihaya refuse like that? He couldn’t figure it out.

“Chihaya?” Yukiya too called out to him.

In the meantime, Chihaya’s sharp eyes were fixed dangerously on Ichiryuu and Yukiya.

“You and the runt. You're nobles, right?”

“Even if you call us nobles… Yukiya aside, I'm just from the rural nobility,” a stunned Ichiryuu answered.

“Then you have horses.”

“Eh? Well, yes.”

A Township Lord's residence couldn't even begin to function without horses. It would greatly affect the officers’ work. Shigemaru had visited the Shimaki Lord’s residence once, and he remembered seeing some impressive stables there. He truly doubted Taruhi was in any way different. It was all simply a given, yet Chihaya's gaze got even colder once he heard that.

“I hate Court Ravens. We can't get along then.” He glared at them, all stunned into silence, before rushing to the exit and leaving the room altogether.

“Wait, Chihaya!” Yukiya tried to follow after him, but Shigemaru quickly stopped him.

Once he got him to stop, Shigemaru turned towards a shocked Ichiryuu and deeply bowed his head. “I'm sorry, senior, but could you wait for a bit?”

“Wait, why are you apologizing in the first place?”

“As a fellow Hill Raven, it’s not as if I can't understand how he feels. Would you leave this to me?”

Unlike Court Raven, Hill Raven was often used to talk about commoners in a derogatory way. Making a point out of using those words in specific was apparently enough for Ichiryuu to get the gist of the problem. There was clear tension on his face as he gave him a still dazed nod.

“——Fine, I'll leave it to you. Bring him back here immediately.”

“Thank you.” Shigemaru took his ornamented blade and flew out of the room.

It didn’t take him long to find Chihaya. He was right behind the building, sitting with his back against the wall. The light leaking from the inside dimly illuminated him, and there was a small bundle of belongings at his feet. Kimichika had thrown it at him when he kicked him out. It was all of Chihaya’s luggage, a shockingly small amount even for a commoner.

“..... Both Ichiryuu and Yukiya were at a loss.” Shigemaru called out to him as he made sure to keep his distance. Chihaya glanced at him for a second, before dropping his gaze back to the ground.

“I don't care.”

“Well, you should be a bit more humble if you plan to secure a place to sleep. Don't tell me you plan to pass the night out here?”

“That was the idea, yes.”

“Wait, wait—are you for real?”

Shigemaru had been fully intending to bring Chihaya back to the tenth room, yet he had never imagined Chihaya was truly planning to sleep outside otherwise. After thinking for a while, Shigemaru leaned on the wall by Chihaya’s side with enough space between them that it was impossible to reach the other even if they extended their arms.

“I doubt Yukiya and Ichiryuu have ever considered how much the Yatagarasu who end up as horses must truly hate it, you know,” Shigemaru mused as he looked up to the sky.

There was the waning moon, floating dimly over the dormitories’ lined up roofs. Soft moonlight shone over the persimmon trees, already covered in young green leaves, leaving shadows all over the ground. Shigemaru inhaled deeply—the air was different now than when they had first joined. One could feel the approaching summer in it.

“....... And, if you think about it, the most likely reason they can't imagine it at all is because they haven't ever mistreated one, right?”

He heard Chihaya quietly laugh at his side. “If that’s enough for them to ignore the problem, isn't that more cruel than actual mockery?”

“Maybe it is,” Shigemaru felt Chihaya relaxing beside him, so he intentionally employed a nonchalant tone as he spoke. “You know, during a famine long ago, my grandpa on my mother's side was left with no options to survive. He refused to sell my mom to the Red Light District, so he chose to become a horse for the local landlord. I wouldn’t have even been born if he hadn't made that sacrifice.”

Chihaya didn't say a word in answer, but he changed his pose. He was listening to what Shigemaru had to say. “He made the decision himself, so he turned into quite the well-behaved horse. It seems his owners were very gentle with him too, so much so that the entire family took personal care of him in his last moments. Is it cruel? Yes, maybe, but I'm glad my grandpa wasn't whipped or didn’t have to suffer unnecessarily at least. I would rather have it that way.”

“...... He protected his daughter.”

Chihaya was still very much a man of few words, but Shigemaru nevertheless understood what he meant—that he found his grandpa admirable.

“Thank you,” Shigemaru softly laughed. “If I had to make a guess, both Yukiya and Ichiryuu are ‘good owners’ as well and haven't ever had a family member become a horse. They're nice people, but I very much doubt there's any fixing that. There are things you can't truly understand until you experience them yourself.”

Chihaya didn’t speak at all, but he made a point out of his own lack of reaction.

“But, even if that’s the case, I think it would also be your loss to reject them altogether over that. Just as we cannot become Court Ravens because we want to, it’s not like they have ever experienced the life of a Hill Raven either,” Shigemaru stretched as he said that. “I’m fine if we don't understand each other perfectly. I don’t care for the kind of person who will force said understanding. You know, what actually matters to me is whether they comprehend that there's no reason to ridicule or look down on others over the world they live in.”

“So you’re saying I should remain silent to the Court Ravens’ abuse?” Chihaya spouted sarcastically.

“No way!” Shigemaru laughed. “Mock those small-minded enough to accept only their own worldviews all you want. But if you sneer at people just because they happen to be Court Ravens, you aren’t really any different from them.”

Finally, Chihaya sighed weakly, his eyes still fixed on his feet. “I'll keep that in mind.”

“Good, that should be enough.”

They stayed there for a long while. Shigemaru gazed at the night sky and Chihaya at the ground, his arms crossed inside his sleeves.

“...... People like family to me were falsely accused of stealing. They had their legs cut. The son of the landlord at the farm they worked at was the actual perpetrator,” Chihaya murmured.

“I see,” was Shigemaru’s only response. Chihaya probably meant the third leg that appeared in bird form, given the context.

——Someone close to Chihaya was falsely incriminated and Disarticulated.

While those who became horses by contract had their third leg bound with a special cord by their owners, and they couldn't transform back to human form without permission, there was no going back for those who had their leg cut, their other form forever out of reach.

For the first time since their conversation had started, Chihaya raised his head to look at Shigemaru.

“Don't—”

“Say anything, right? I won't, don't worry. I'll wait until you're ready to tell them yourself.”

“Will that day ever come?” 

While Chihaya seemed to have no such expectations, Shigemaru nodded with full confidence. “It will. At the very least, I believe so.”

Next: Akeru (Part 1)

—————————————

1: Sanpaku eyes or three whites eyes (三白目) refer to cases in which the sclera around the iris is also visible due to it being comparatively tiny.

2: The time measurement here is actually done in koku (刻). Historically, koku has meant many things, with a day being divided differently depending on time period and area. Probably the most well known form of koku has night and day divided in 6 koku each, for a total of 12 koku, each one named after one of the animals of the chinese zodiac. While, in practice, this meant the length of a koku changed depending on the time of the year and whether it was a night koku or a day koku, the overall average length would be that of two of our modern hours. As far as I know, this and koku-as-half-an-hour are the most well-known standards, but due to pure narrative logic I'm interpreting the koku in Yamauchi as 12-koku-a-day. Finishing dinner and cleaning in 15 minutes for so many people is unrealistic.

3: Once more, ancient forms of measurement are used here. In this case, it's the Ken (間). Unlike the Koku and its flexible nature, a Ken is precisely 1,818 meters.

4: Rokon is what we would call a 'dharma name' (戒名), which are either given to buddhist monks after taking their vows or, within japanese culture at least, given to the dead posthumously. The first category is the one that applies here. This is also the case for other characters who have taken vows like, for example, Natsuka. The men aside, Masuho no Susuki most likely got a dharma name as well once she became a nun, but as she uses her alias or karina (仮名) we never get to learn about it. As one would expect of a setting based on the Heian era, when one could say Zen Buddhism was most influential, a lot of details are affected by it.

[tommykinard217]

Monday motivation

Okay it is definitely no longer Monday but only by 30 minutes so it's fiiiineee. Anyways, have the first 600 ish words of that bucktommy s1 au. Yes I decided to include Abby, but who knows, I could completely rewrite this and take her out entirely. Or I could still write a s1 au without Abby and still write this. The world is my literary oyster lmao.

Buck had no idea what to expect when he called Abby, saying he was going to help her find her mom. Obviously, Abby was gorgeous, but also was going through a serious crisis, and he was promising to put his prior antics to bed. So to speak. 

He knew that it was going to be a rough day, and that finding Patricia wasn't going to be easy. 

But he didn't expect the knock at the door when Abby, Carla, and himself were trying to make a game plan. And neither, it seemed, did Abby. 

He stayed at the table with Carla, focusing more on the maps to try to get a decent idea of where to start, but he couldn't help but to be curious. Besides, the table wasn't exactly that far from the door.

“Tommy? What are you doing here?” Abby asked, seemingly confused. He looked up and saw Abby with her arms crossed. He couldn't exactly see the other figure in the doorway from this angle, but from the way Abby was looking up, he was probably around Buck’s own height. 

“You sent me a text. Patricia is missing? I know I'm probably the last person you want helping you but I actually have some experience with search and rescue. And I care about Patricia too, Abby. Even after everything between us.” 

Oh god. An ex? Was he going to try to win Abby back? Buck had no clue exactly what was going on between him and Abby, but he did really like her. He didn't want some asshole ex ruining things before they even started. But also, him stating he had search and rescue experience piqued Buck’s curiosity. Was he also a first responder? A cop, maybe? 

“You have search and rescue experience via a helicopter, Tommy. That's not exactly the same as doing it on foot.” Actually, that probably made him even more badass, though Buck hated to admit it. He could already feel his hackles rising at the mere thought of this Tommy dude helping. Which definitely made him an asshole considering any help was needed when it came to finding Abby’s mom.

Abby seemed to come to the same conclusion right before Tommy replied with whatever he was going to try to say to convince Abby to take him back. Or find her mom. Or both. Buck was starting to feel a little irrational already. 

“Fine. We need all the help we can get and we're wasting time standing in my doorway. I've already created a general radius of where she could have gotten in the nine hours she was gone.” 

Abby started walking over, Tommy in tow, and Buck couldn't help but stare. This was Abby’s ex? The man could have been sculpted by the Gods if he didn't know any better. Tall, built like a brick house. He even had a cleft. Man was basically Superman. And Buck had to compete with that? 

“And who are you?” Carla had said, breaking the slightly awkward silence that had built when Abby brought Tommy over. She looked him over appreciatively and honestly, Buck couldn't help but do the same. He was allowed to admire another guy, even if he was technically competition. 

Tommy had smiled slightly, a crooked little grin that Buck hated to admit was charming. “I'm Tommy. Abby's ex.” 

Carla’s eyes narrowed. “The guy who dumped her because she was taking care of the very woman we’re trying to find?” 

Tommy looked taken aback by the statement, and when Buck looked at Abby, she looked…sheepish was probably the best word, honestly. Tommy looked over at Abby, seemingly hurt. 

“That's what you're telling people? That I broke things off because of Patricia?” There was a hint of steel to Tommy's voice, checked in anger and hurt. “Damn, I knew I hurt you but I didn't realize you'd paint me as a total dick for it. You didn't seem the type. But I guess neither of us actually knew each other, huh? Anyways. We're here to find Patricia. You can clear things up later. Or not.” 

Abby looked regretful, and like she wanted to say more on the subject, but Tommy was right that time was being wasted on this. 

[roseofhybrids]

was gonna write this in the tags, but it got way too long for that, so

short answer: If we're going purely off of the cannon material we've seen in the series I have to say too ambiguous to answer

long answer:

on one hand she did a lot of bad things, abuse, murder, siding with robo-satan

but on the other, we never got the chance to see what she would choose to do when truly free to make her own choices through the series, she's either under control of the Elliots or the solver. Which severely limits just how in control she can be of her own choices. Would standing up for your "boss and coworkers" against people and entities bent on abusing and killing them be the right thing to do? Definitely, but it's also a fast way to get yourself and them killed this isn't meant as a justification of any of her actions, just an explanation of why she'd choose them

and we don't get the chance to see if she'd continue choosing to act the way she did in the series after the solver gets defeated

take N and V for example they also did a lot of murder of both humans and drones while working for the solver. While V didn't physically hurt N, as far as we know, she still did mistreat him. You can argue that it was to a lesser extent than what J did, but even if it wasn't as bad, it still wasn't good either All three of them were made to do horrific things while working under the absolute solver. But we only get to see how N and V change when free from that

N's change is pretty quick He didn't remember the solver at the time of the pilot, so he didn't have to consider the possible consequences of going against an eldritch space demon that has already eliminated at least 1 planet

V on the other hand did remember and as a result takes longer to change In episodes 2 and 3 we see she's still intent on killing the worker drones and tries to convince N to do the same. She asks him to stop looking into the solver and goes to the prom planning to kill everyone there. V can remember the deal she made with the solver, and she knows it's out there. She can't start slacking off just because J is gone, it could show up at any point and there would be consequences for both her and N In episode 4 we see this fear first hand. V sees Uzi is getting taken over by the solver and attempts to kill her. She justifies this to N by saying that if they do their jobs, that thing (the solver) will leave them alone. She is killing in order to protect herself and N from the solver

This is the exact same justification J gives to V in the finale. She justifies siding with the absolute solver because she believes there's no way to escape or defeat it. There's no escape even in death, so it's pointless to disobey it. Had J come back sooner and had a similar encounter with V in episode 2 or 3, maybe even 4. It's possible that V would have agreed with J back then

But when they do fight in episode 8, V now believes it's possible to overcome the solver and as a result rejects J's offer to join the "winning team". Cementing her evolution to a heroic character

J on the other hand has not had the chance to have that growth. While N and V had the chance to be free from the solver for a while. J spent that entire time by its side. J isn't free from it till CYN's core is destroyed

so, would J choose to better herself now that there's no obligation to please a violent master that will kill her for stepping out of line?

well we can't say for sure we can speculate, of course. There's certainly signs and evidence that she has the capacity for it, but we can't see if that change takes place. If it happens, it happens post canon

I personally believe she could if given enough time and the room to atone by the other drones.

But she could just as easily be rejected by the other drones and be left alone to stew and grow resentful

Maybe they try to let her in, but she ends up being unwilling to change and instead isolates herself. Be it because of ego or a fear of diverting from the life she's lived for so many years

How J turns out after the credits roll is left to interpretation. It's hard to call her bad when we take her situation into account and see the potential for growth. But it's also hard to call her good when we don't know for sure what happens

Rb and all that jazz

[uncanny-tranny]

You know... it's okay to trust your body. If you are separated from your body to such an extent you feel you cannot trust it, I truly from the bottom of my heart empathize and feel grief for you, but you can trust your body.

It's okay to listen to your body and to heed what it is telling you. I wish you (and your body) well wherever you go. You deserve the peace of mind to feel able to do what you want.

[pa-pa-plasma]

kind of frustrating that people took "fat does not equal unhealthy" to mean "fat is not unhealthy." sometimes being obese IS unhealthy & excess fat can cause a lot of problems. ignoring health issues isn't progressive. real "oranges kill people with depression" moment

[hanzajesthanza]

you guys… we did it!!!

just wanted to thank you everyone for being a part of this blog… “big things to come soon”

[narrator-navigator-storyteller]

Hi, I said I wasn't going to reblog this because I wanted to stay out of conflict, but I kinda had to.

This is a serious misunderstanding and misrepresentation of actual intersex experiences, and a very disingenous description of what it means for an intersex person to be AFAB or CAFAB (your daily reminder that those are not the same thing).

To be clear, for starters, assigned gender at birth is an event, not a permanent status. Your gender later in life can be medically changed without purposeful transition (such as, y'know, actual CAFAB people, who often develop male traits at puberty even if having gone through IGM, and get reassigned as male because doctors find it easier). Your assigned gender at birth doesn't inherently mean that you are going to look that gender, or be raised as that gender, especially for intersex people. People who are assigned female at birth can in fact have experiences identical to a transfeminine experience, even before you bring the complexity of the intersex identity into the mix.

As such, as much as you claim you aren't being bioessentialist, what part of this isn't? You explain to a person with a condition you don't have what her condition means for a possibility to identify as transfem, while using language that, honestly, reeks of this weird medicalization of someone's experiences ('struggles with virilization' reeks of 'disorders of sexual development' language, that shoves intersex people into "woman intersex" and "man intersex" boxes that don't actually exist). You paint AFAB and CAFAB people under one brush of this "woman but weird who could never be forced to identify as male", when that is not the universal experience. There are children who are AFAB and, even without having mixed genitalia at birth, go through an early mixed or outright male puberty. Sure, some of those children are going to be treated as 'women but wrong', but a whole lot of them are going to either be reassigned as male or just not be allowed to be either, and be punished if they try to break that assignment. You cannot go onto a post talking about the complexities of intersex identity with gender and transition and try to paint us all with the same brush. This applies to both transfemininity and transmasculinity: we have different experiences because we are intersex. Each intersex person will have a different experience with this. My friends who went through IGM and have had to go through the same HRT as transfeminine people in order to live as their genders are different from me as someone who is AFAB and CTF and still was not allowed to identify as female whatsoever for the majority of my life are different from my friend with turners whose womanhood was never questioned until her development was an issue and suddenly she was treated as an other, and all three of us have unique intersex experiences with womanhood. Not all three of us are transfem, but nobody else gets to decide that for us based on the idea of what doctors told us when we were born.

This is probably going to be massively controversial, but I just feel like it needs to be said at this point. I desperately need people to read this very carefully and approach this in good faith. General blanket warning for intersexism, transphobia, and intersectional misogyny with both of these I just wonder how many people in the intersex community just like… fundamentally don’t understand the way being intersex impacts your gender. I know that sounds fucking wild because obviously being intersex impacts your gender but like… it feels like a lot of people reach for comparisons to the binary over just, like, the label intersex itself. The thing on my mind in particular is the stark difference in what transfemininity seems to mean inside and outside the intersex community. This isn’t to refer to AMAB and/or CTM intersex transfems, but in particular people who were AFAB and/or CTF.

I want to clarify before I get into the main body of this post that I fully believe people can be AFAB and/or CTF and be transfem. This post isn’t to say that this never happens, no one ever experiences the combination of these two* things, or that people who identify this way are wrong for it. I just want to open up a discussion about why people are identifying this way, I guess. It’s not about invalidating anyone or their experiences, on the contrary, I really want to discuss the varied nature of the intersex experience.

I was AFAB, and I would generally consider myself CTF. I have simple virilizing classic CAH. I experienced many of the events which a lot of people talk about as why they relate to the transfem experience or consider themselves to be transfem. I grew up with a tenuous connection to girl/womanhood at best, I had the locker room harassment, I was widely rumored to be a hermaphrodite and transgender (no one could decide in which direction), I was put into situations specifically to attempt to uncover my “real” sex/gender. Even when I was seen as a girl/woman, I was Wrong about it. When I was seen as a boy/man, it was before I had ever come to terms with that identity for myself, and it was instead something thrust on me against my will for being a girl/woman Wrong. I was, for much of my life, locked out of womanhood in various ways.

I can very easily understand why people with experiences such as these would relate to transfemininity (and on a “relation” basis, yes, I would say I relate), and perhaps even identify with it based on how these sorts of things impacted them in particular. That being said… I have never understood why people think this is somehow not just being intersex. I’m not trying to say it can’t possibly be both, but sometimes it feels like people just refuse to acknowledge that this is a very common experience of the intersection of misogyny and intersexism. There are certainly transmisogynistic elements to it, I think transmisogyny and intersexism are deeply intertwined and always have been, but like… to act like this is solely transmisogyny feels like a denial of the intersex experience. For intersex people who were AFAB, are CTF, and/or likely some other types of intersex people depending on their circumstances, this is entirely par for the course because they are intersex. The things I described are, above all else, intersexist in nature. They happen to people for being intersex. There are aspects reminiscent of transmisogyny and perhaps even motivated by transmisogyny in many cases, but this distinct experience that I see many, many intersex people have experienced, it is to me such a classic experience of growing up intersex.

This is to say nothing of the appropriation of the transfem experience (no, I’m not accusing you or anyone else specifically of doing this, if it doesn’t apply to you, it doesn’t apply to you, but yes some people are objectively doing this). I am not focused on that. It is its own separate issue, but the thing I am trying to communicate here is why people struggle to find themselves in the word intersex when the thing that caused them these traumas is being intersex. The denial of intersexness and intersexism as explanations for the experiences directly caused by being intersex. The need to use terms broadly conceived of within perisex communities to describe perisex experiences of sex and gender to describe experiences inherently outside of the perisex view. To me, it seems like there is a very clear difference between using intersex transfem to describe “I have Klinefelter and also I am a trans woman” and “due to my experiences with PCOS, my relationship with femininity is deeply complicated and I use transfem as a sort of code for reclaiming my womanhood that I feel has been denied to me.” And like. I am not saying that these couldn’t possibly both be transfem experiences! I am not the decider of what makes people transfem, and it’s not really my business at the end of the day, but these are still just like, objectively different concepts being described. This is what I meant at the beginning of the post by the inside-outside usage of the term. It feels like transfem, in intersex spaces, is often used as a shorthand to describe a specific relationship to femininity and womanhood and this relationship is not necessarily “transitioning to femininity.” At the same time, it feels like it is being used this way because in some way, perhaps, the community is lacking in language that adequately communicates “my being intersex locked me out of womanhood, even though womanhood is what I was assigned and expected to conform to” which is, to me, a fundamental difference between most (not all, I’m aware we cannot ever make absolute statements when it comes to intersex experiences) AFAB/CTF and AMAB/CTM transfem experiences.

To me, I feel that intersex does adequately express these sentiments. Or, at least, it can if you let it. Intersex people pretty much inherently experience a complicated relationship to their sex and gender, and I wish we were allowed to talk about this without there being an obligatory comparison of how every intersex experience is always analogous to some equivalent transgender experience. Intersexism is intersexism, and intersex people experience it because we are intersex, and maybe we should fucking talk about that sometimes.