#One Impostor (this is why I asked for a transfer)

[writingwithcolor]

Representing Biracial Black South American Experiences…Through a White/Asian Mixed Race Character in Europe

@colombinna asked:

I have a YA story that's in very early development - pre-alpha, if you will. For now what I have developed is the characters: one of the MCs is a biracial asian queer girl (her dad is thai-american and japanese, her mom's white), she has a medium/dark brown skin, and lives in a very white context in a fictional European country. The contact she has with her extended family is limited to phone calls and regular visits because her dad moved from the US to said fictional European country.

I'm a biracial black queer girl myself, living in a very white community in South America, my extended black family also lives in a different place, and I'm taking a lot of my experiences of being not white and queer whilst living in white communities into her story (the feeling of not belonging, the impostor syndrome, standing out as one of the only POC kids in class, etc) and thinking back to what I've heard asian friends and classmates say about their experiences in the same school/community context as mine. But I want to know how different her experiences as a dark-skinned asian girl would differ from mine and my friends' in a similar context (white community, small number of other asian people - and POC in general - in the social circles, and limited contact to her extended family), and what experiences could make sense if the character was biracial black like myself, but won't if she's biracial asian.

Why not write a biracial Black girl if those are the experiences you want to represent? 

This MC is straddling, like, 3 different cultures. Having multiple immigrant identities in not-Europe is not the same experience as being Black in South America; while both are complex minority experiences, there are too many differences in intersections and histories to compare. Not to mention, it really depends on what European culture(s) you’re basing your not-Europe on. 

I think you’ll find that the written result will ring much more genuine and rich in depth if you either translate your experiences more directly or pick a more narrow focus, instead of assuming that there is a universal for racism and colorism against biracial people that is transferable across contexts. Because there isn’t. There can be overlaps, but if you’re looking to cover the entire range of What It’s Like in general, it won’t work.

This isn’t to say that people can’t use other identities to write about specific experiences of their own, but in this case you need to think about what story you want to tell and what your reasons are. Marika’s commentary will go more into when and how this can be done effectively. 

Also, if the point is to make her a dark-skinned Asian, as a white/asian mix myself, I implore you: why must you make her 1/4 Japanese and 1/2 white? Even with the Thai ethnicity thrown in, Thai people very much range in skin tone and have their own domestic issues with colorism. It’s not impossible for dark-skinned examples of your MC’s ethnic makeup to exist, but still I don’t recommend it for two reasons: 

It's going to make researching people whose experiences fit that much more difficult. Most experiences of colorism, othering, and other forms of discrimination that mixed white asians tend to face are completely different from mixed race asians who tend to have darker skin & features.

There's enough Japanese & white mixed Japanese rep in the Asian rep sphere as is. Consider that this individual could be mixed Asian (not Japanese) with something else (not white)! 

But again, think over your motivations. I’ll spare you the copy/paste of our Motivations PSA, but re-read it and consider. Why do you wish to write a mixed Asian character to tell the story of your experiences as a mixed Black individual instead of a mixed Black character? What does it add to the story? Is it an effective vessel for the experiences you want to convey? 

~ Rina

I think Rina brings up some good points here: I’m not hearing a lot of specificity in your query. As you doubtless know firsthand, the more intersectional and complex an identity, the more of a chance the identity may come with unexpected baggage and nuances that fly in the face of what is common sense for less intersectional identities. This can make writing such characters challenging just because there is so much choice on which identity themes to emphasize. 

I once spent about 15 minutes explaining to a person the thought process I used to determine when I could wear jeans depending on which country I was living in as a mixed race person who is perceived as different things in different places. It might seem trivial, but it’s actually very important to me for the purposes of identity, safety and gender presentation, so I personally think it’s interesting. But will my readers think a character’s multi-page internal monologue on whether or not to wear jeans is especially compelling? Does the writer-version of me want to research the version of myself musing on my specific jeans conundrum to that extent? Or do I want to talk about other things related to attire a lot of other people would relate to? I think those are all YMMV questions, but hopefully, they provide some perspective that will help you be intentional about how you might want to tackle something potentially very time-consuming.

When I say intentional, I mean that when covering a complex identity with which you are peripherally familiar, it will always be more effective and easier to use it to tell a specific story extremely clearly than to be extremely broad in scope and try to include almost everything about your own experiences, especially because some of those experiences might not be as relevant for your character’s background as they are to yours.      

One of my favorite childhood picture books is written and illustrated by a Nikkei writer-illustrator team. The book is titled Ashok by Any Other Name (link). The story features a desi child growing up in the US who wishes he had an American name his friends and teachers wouldn’t think was strange. It covers how being othered for his name makes him feel, and how he copes with that feeling. Speaking as someone both Japanese and desi, I think through the plot device of names perceived by the majority of Americans as foreign, this book aptly shows how many immigrant/diaspora creators are capable of relating to the pressures of assimilation experienced by other immigrant, even if the creator, the audience and the story’s subject’s backgrounds all don’t completely overlap 100%. 

There will be aspects of your Blackness, mixed identity, skin color, sexuality and living in a local community lacking diversity as a member of many minority groups that you will find resemble/ resonate with the experiences of mixed-race, Japanese individual in a Europe-themed setting, and I think any story that leans into those themes will be considerably easier for you to research. In other words, instead of asking us “How does my experience differ?” I would approach this issue by deciding what narrative you want to show about your own experience and then research the specific contexts within which your desired story overlaps with elements of mixed-race Japanese experiences. 

- Marika.

[sassymajesty]

may I ask what made you pick judaism, if it's not too personal & you're willing to share? i legit dont know enough about religions so i'm genuinely curious. like why not islam or something else? or why not transfer to protestant or orthodox church? you said you did some wandering, so i'm just curious what made you pick judaism over everything else. like i said i'm not judging or anything, just pure curiosity due to my lack of knowledge! but i'm glad you found something that resonates with you :)

short answer, jewish beliefs resonated the most with me and the more i learn about it, the more at home i feel

long answer, oh boy, i really did do some wandering. i'm putting it under a cut because i wrote a whole essay

i stopped going to the catholic church when i was 15, and the next... ten years? were spent trying to find myself. because i've always known that i believe in something more, but the idea of an old guy in the sky ruling over us with an iron fist felt very odd too me. and that's how i came out of the catholic church

my dad used to say that religion is supposed to bring you comfort and give you the support you need in tough times. that's something that has always stuck with me but then, which religion?

i tried the agnostic route for a while, but that didn't bring me any comfort. then i went to a buddhist temple a couple times, because the logic was sound to me, and i was at a time in my life where acceptance and kindness was what i needed. but still, i felt like there was something lacking

i googled a lot

being gay, i didn't quite vibe with most christian denominations in my town. but my cousin invited me to the presbyterian church and i went there for a few months. it kinda worked for a bit, because i was sure i didn't believe in saints and they talked about jesus with so much love, and tried to spread the love he taught the world. i used to leave the church service feeling very loved, and it was better to read from the bible than it was to just listen to the priest read it and being told that i'd never understand it myself

i just... didn't feel the same love as everyone else. i felt like a fraud even when i was annotating my bible as everyone else. theirs were full of devotion and mine felt flat, i didn't know how to pray without, you know, scripted prayers, i felt like an impostor. then, well. then it got to a point where i couldn't simply ignore being gay for the sake of being accepted there, and i stopped going

at the time, i was working at a health clinic and i worked with pious people from other christian denominations and they were so judgemental of everyone that came in, forgetting their own past and still claiming to be a good christian. which only pushed me away from any other christian denominations, the fanon interpretation of jesus bothered me too. it all felt too restrictive

that's around the time i started wondering whether or not i believed in jesus. it's always been complicated for me to make sense that god, jesus and the holy spirit are separate but still one. i could kinda figure out the holy spirit and god working together, but for me, jesus was a man, a human man who had been kind and drastically radical for his time, but still a man

honestly, at this time i was pretty lost and finding comfort in bits and pieces here and there. christian music actually helped me a lot during this time, go figure

it took me actually meeting a jewish person (that's how small judaism is in here, i had no contact of anyone jewish for 26 years of my life) for me to learn that you could even convert to judaism

i had the catholic thinking of "oh, judaism is an old religion that doesn't really exist anymore" and "the old testament god was barbaric", but getting to learn more about it with fresh eyes was a really breathtaking experience

i like that the rules make sense. there's no "because the church says so" or "because god will be sad if you do it". whatever argument you can think of, someone has gone over it at least a thousand years ago and have had people arguing for or against it ever since. i love it that you get to ask questions!!! you're encouraged to!! oh that's my favorite part, i can have doubts about whatever and no one will talk behind my back that i'm not a good catholic girl. and i get to learn about this practice that goes back thousands of years, and not to be a nerd, but i love how much incentive there is to read and learn and discuss and talk through things and question everything and think critically about every passage, every tradition, every book ever written on judaism

i'm reading "here all along" by sarah hurwitz and there's a chapter called "freeing god from "his" human-shaped cage in the sky" and in it, she talks about different conceptions about god that jewish people believe in. and that is when i realized oh yes, this is home. because god stopped being an old guy in the sky and became this force that no human being could ever describe or understand. god can be all knowing and all powerful, but they can also be all knowing and not all powerful. they can be everything — a shadow the tree casts, the good in humanity, resting on shabbat. god can be the "process of being" or the force that pushes you to be the best you can be. i haven't explored a fraction of those but i love it that i don't have to choose just one, and i don't have to believe in one version that's dictated to me

all my experiences with judaism have been incredible so far. i used to slog through an hour long mass, now two hours every friday feel like not enough. the community i found (both in the synagogue i go to and online) is very welcoming and there's so much strength in them. the more i learn about the practices, the why behind them, the more at home i feel

we had an event for people who want to convert and we talked about being gay and judaism and everyone was pretty much you just gotta find a rabbi that you're comfortable with but even the most conservative ones are mostly chill with it, and the conversation moved on to another question. and that? being accepted fully by who i am, that's incredible for me. i don't have to change, i don't have to force myself to believe in anything

i'm gonna end this here, otherwise i'll be talking about judaism until next week

[ocprompts]

Gay people from my imagination

Basically imagine if a bunch of random teens were heralded as the best of the best in the world for their specific talents and were sent to a ridiculously prestigious academy because of that, only for a vengeful one close to one of them to forge papers making her seem like one of the class, lock the school down and trap her “classmates” inside, and force them to kill each other to escape in a copycat killing game to the one that happened ten years ago (the events of the main Danganronpa series, sans the third game.)

These characters, as opposed to being from just Japan, come from every continent. The majority are still Asian, but this system actually developed because the protagonist was originally a self insert, but I felt weird making a self insert Asian since I’m Irish-American. Thus, he was a transfer from Ireland. Then when an online friend who became my co-writer asked if she could make a character for it, she made a transfer from the UK. Then I decided to make a canonical explanation for having several transfers in one class, and then the cast became mostly transfers from there.

There are seventeen of them, but I’m just gonna tell you about my favorites.

Rian ó Broin, the ultimate horror novelist, is an eccentric goth and the protagonist of the story. He has low self confidence due to the way he’s been treated for being autistic and transgender all his life, and because he’s never really been given praise but his talent in writing has, he views himself and his talent as separate entities, and thus has impostor syndrome. His perception of the world is a bit skewed thanks to his view of his talent, and one of the main themes of the story plays into his development in that regard. His sister Kira, originally planned to be over a year older but probably should only be like, a few months older, also goes to the academy, and is basically his best friend.

Kamiko Yoshioka, the ultimate academic, is far more straight-laced than Rian. She grew up in poverty, and has basically had to fight like hell to get where she is now. She sees her talent as the one good thing in her life, and she’s basically fighting to keep it so she doesn’t lose the one leg up on life she has. This ideology is why she seems so heartless and cold. That, and the fact that she resents the rest of her classmates, feeling like they haven’t worked hard enough to be where they are. She sees herself as nothing but her talent because her talent is the one good thing in her life. It’s a self-imposed spiral of pressure she holds herself in and because of that she hates how many of her classmates’ talents just come easy to them, and in particular she hates Rian, who believes he doesn’t deserve to be where he is. Conversely, Rian hates Kamiko and projects his insecurities about his talent onto her.

Alice Aldaine, the ultimate psychologist, is soft-spoken and stoic when first met, but once she warms up to someone she becomes bubbly, passionate and kind. She’s very emotionally and factually intelligent, and while she’s not great at making friends, she holds hers very close. She comes from a long line of researchers and academics, and her family has imposed a lot of pressure upon her to be perfect. For Alice, her talent is a representation of who she’s supposed to be, the pressure her family placed on her to be this great successor and do nothing but study, study, study, until she was their perfect prodigy, and she resents this idea of perfection, but feels she can’t really resist the pressure- who is she if not the ultimate psychologist?

Minori Mizuno, the ultimate detective, has a strong moral compass, even more so than classmates like Amara Kimathi. She had always felt like a victim of the world, and she began investigating criminal cases to bring the victims justice. To her, her talent is her one way of resisting the idea of victimhood. Her biggest fear is not being able to fix anything, and she fears helplessness more than death. Her talent is a desperate refusal to stop fighting. She’s not afraid to die for it. In a similar way to Kamiko, it is her life’s one good thing.

Masumi Kosuke, the ultimate artist, is ridiculously depressed! He acts wild and goofy, but he’s actually pretty mellow I’d rather immature. He’s basically been bullied his whole life partially due to being autistic and having adhd, and partially due to “looking weird” because of a skin condition. He’s learned to do whatever it takes to be liked. Despite being very artistic, he doesn’t really give his talent a lot of thought. Being passionate and emotional isn’t going to get people to like him. His talent is supposedly insignificant so he seems more likable. It’s the things he’s been bullied for and made to hate himself because of, but no matter what, those are always going to be a part of him, and he can’t really avoid that in the eyes of most, he is just the ultimate artist. He will never really fit in, no matter how hard he tries, and he’s resigned to that he may never be loved for who he is. He also has DID.

Amara Kimathi, the ultimate environmentalist, is not really a people person. She’s very grounded and very kind, but prefers being around her pet snake than any people. (Her snake’s name is Ground Beef, but he bit her hand the second she brought it home after adoption so she called him Shit Lump for a few days as punishment.) To her, her talent is a fear of the pain that will be caused if things don’t change, but her cause has been exploited as a talking point for people in high positions to make them look more environmentally conscious and thus better. Her passion and kindness is exploited and makes her into a puppet for people to show off without ever listening to her. While she’s more reserved, she knows how to demand attention due to this exact problem- her talent being a shallow label for her wanting things to be better, shown off like a toy by the people who don’t want to change to make them look good. If Amara has something to say, you will hear it. Despite that, she doesn’t like demanding attention. She’s pretty reserved, and tends to be more drawn to other introverts.

Heiran McKenzie, the ultimate makeup artist, is cold and apathetic. She hates her classmates for having their talents at all, no matter the circumstance, and she hates her own talent too. Moving up in the beauty industry has basically had her exploited by it in a similar way to Amara. People capitalizing off the self hatred of others, especially girls and young women, has left her completely jaded and hateful of it being called her talent. She just thinks it is the way of the world that people will make others suffer for their own benefit, and doesn’t really buy into the attitudes of students like Amara, who wants to make things better, or Minori, driven by a strong sense of righteousness. She’s just kind of going through the motions, and doesn’t care about a lot. Her talent, to her, is the reason she is this way. It is what has made her deal with all this. That’s something Amara empathizes with, though, so Heiran does have a bit more appreciation for Amara. By the end of the story, she’s a bit more grounded as well. She and Amara are minor characters without a lot of relevance, but they contribute to the themes of the story a lot in subtext.

they all sound fantastic!!

[smalls-words]

Demons Are Angels When It Comes To Love

Summary: Natasha loves a demon. And she definitely shows it.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Demon!Reader, Wanda and Pietro and Tony x Reader (besties), Carol x Brunnhilde (lovers <3).

Warnings: Demon stuff, Rhodey being an asshole, Tony not being an asshole (that’s a first), protective twins. Body image issues, shapeshifting causing mental harm, blood, injuries. 

A/N: I don’t know why I wrote with Demon!Reader. Just kinda came to me since I’ve been doing my Nat series. Enjoy.

*not my gif*

The world knows about aliens, androids and wizards, a few of them on the Avengers mighty team that stretched across galaxies. But the creator, Nicholas Joseph Fury, kept a small secret from them all.

Demons and angels walked amongst them.

He had found you when you’d gotten high off of a drugged mortal, who eventually overdosed six hours later. You were in a holding cell and it wasn’t your first time, but your powers were out of whack because of the mix of heroin, cocaine, MDMA and alcohol. He took you home after paying the fine for being drunk and disorderly, but luckily the blood wasn’t questioned since it was Halloween.

Nobody really questioned your appearance, it wasn’t unlikely given what they’d previously dealt with, but the whole demon side was new. They’d seen horns, wings and a tail before - yours were very much what they’d pictured in ‘cartoons’ and in biblical manners.

But then… Then you met Natasha.

Natasha was the best thing you’d come across in your entire life. Her soul was pure, even if she thought her actions and past made her darker than your own soul. Then you explained to her one night that you didn’t have a soul, which made her giggle.

You made sure you heard that sound everyday you could, and so far in your one and a half month relationship, you had. She would come around to your place almost every day, and on the days she couldn’t, you’d send her funny texts and she promised to use the voice messages to calm you down.

Natasha’s friends, however…

Being a demon came with pros and cons. Pros - shapeshifting, magic, immortality, general superpowers like invulnerability and super senses and reflexes. Cons - Hard-core Christians, old people, immortality. Most young people saw the pros and often asked for a demonstration, whilst older people threw crosses or swore at you.

You really didn’t want that to happen when you moved into the compound. 

It was an order given by Fury, who demanded you be transferred from a regular SHIELD agent to the Avengers, and Tony was very pleased to have you. He admired your ability to consume alcohol with no or little effect, your intelligence gifted by time, your powers that he could test his machines on with your consent, and he loved your personality and relationship with Natasha.

He never thought the Triple Impostor could learn to love. But, if it had to be anyone, it would probably be a demon. 

Sitting in his lab, you watched him fiddle with something in his suit’s knee before a knock came to the door. You smiled widely, giving the redhead a flash of your fangs, before she leapt into your arms and you easily caught her.

“Hey, sweetness.” You kissed her softly, holding her jaw and some of her neck.

“Hi.” She gleamed up at you.

“How was your mission?” You asked, seating her on your lap whilst your tail curled around her waist.

“It was good. We got two more Widows free, and Yelena’s gone to make more vials.” She murmured as she leaned into you, her hand coming up your shirt to tickle against your back.

“Come on, then. Let’s go and get you showered.” 

You stood, your tail keeping her by your hip, and you patted Tony on the back. “See ya, Stark.”

“Don’t forget about the party tonight! I need my demon girl there for drunk poker!” He called out as you left. 

You helped Natasha shower, washing her hair for her whilst she just leaned against you, and you thanked her when she washed your bat-like wings. You wrapped her up in your fuzzy towel, taking the rougher one instead, and helped her get dressed before laying her down in bed.

“Tasha, I have to do some work for Fury, so you should have a nap and when you wake up, I’ll be done.” You kissed her forehead, but she grabbed onto your wrist.

“But we always cuddle after a mission.” She whined.

She watched your eyes change from their dark auburn to their acidic yellow, looking over her. She stayed still and watched them change back, grinning when you sighed. “Come on, then.” 

You sank into your chair and opened up the files needed finishing, waiting for her to sit down on your lap. She nestled into you, kissing you gently as she admired your features.

“Are you excited for the party tonight?” She queried, braiding a small section of your hair.

“I sure am. Haven’t seen Wanda and Pietro for ages. I missed my speedy buddy.” 

“What about me?” She smirked, and you snickered into a kiss on her temple.

“I always miss you. If I was allowed, I’d come and visit you.” 

She grinned, proud of herself, but you saw in the reflection of the screen that she was getting sleepy. You warmed yourself up and exchanged her shirt with one of your own via summoning, leaving the buttons undone but her bra covered her boobs to stop tempting you.

“Sleep well, my sweet.” You kissed her head softly before dulling the sounds around you, giving her as much peace as she needed.

⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖⧖

When she woke in her bed, you greeted her by a surprise teleportation on top of her. She grinned sleepily at you and you gently sank on top of her, peppering her cheeks with little kisses. “Good evening, Sleeping Beauty.” 

“Have you come to wake me from my slumber, Princess Y/N?” She gently kissed your lips, tasting a bit of cinnamon.

“Doughnuts, my human.” You answered her thought and she quickly rolled on top of you. 

“What time is it?” She plopped down on top of you but you didn’t get winded.

“6. Party starts at 7.” 

She nuzzled her head into your neck and kissed your skin. “I don’t wanna go.” Her groan was muffled, but you caught it.

“I know, sugar. But we do need to make at least an hour’s appearance.” You gently ran your nails up and down her back.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fall back asleep and we’re gonna be late.” 

“I can get us ready in a flash, my darling.” You chuckled.

The hour passed quickly before Natasha and you made your appearance outside in the courtyard, your suit matching her dark velvet red dress. Eyes were drawn to you both, but you made no effort in your magical ability and Natasha’s arm linked in yours showed she was very much taken.

You made your rounds to whom you needed to before you spotted platinum blonde hair next to brunette, the two turning into blurs until they hugged you tightly.

“Demonica!” Pietro yelled in excitement.

“Hello, Pietro and Wanda.” You smiled at them both.

“This party is going to be so boring if you don’t do something.” He whined, the childish soul of his desperate for dopamine.

“You both look stunning.” Wanda complimented, especially on the little chains that hung from your horns and woven into your hair.

You kissed Natasha as she left, admiring how she walked with self-confidence and almost regality before Pietro sped you to the couch. 

“Alright, let’s play!” 

You looked at your surrounding opponents in this game of drunk poker - Carol and Brunnhilde were together, the blonde sitting on her king’s lap; Tony and Pepper, but the strawberry blonde wasn’t paying attention; Pietro and Wanda, the girl not knowing how to play; and Rhodey was your final opponent, sitting by himself on the couch to your right.

The game started off with everyone having 20 chips, divided evenly by Peter who was now talking to Happy and Fury. You won the first two rounds with a royal flush and a full house, earning yourself a total of 56 chips since everyone had bet highly. 

Tony won, then Carol and Bruni (as you nicknamed her), and Pietro won a hand with Wanda’s help. Rhodey, however, was getting pissed off as he was now down to 6 chips. 

“Hey, Demonica, want a drink?” Pietro asked and you nodded, thanking him for his offer before he sped away.

“Why does he call you that?” Rhodey questioned.

“Because he likes Metallica and I’m a demon.” You replied, answering Rhodey’s call of one chip.

“Wow, never would have guessed from your get-up.” He chuckled sarcastically, watching Carol/Bruni and Tony fold, Pietro having done so to get drinks.

You thanked FRIDAY for dealing the next card, your set of ace/king fairing well with the ten and nine. “I wouldn’t call it a get-up, for it is my natural shape. Our king is a kind one, and accepting of all shapes and sizes of us.” 

“But you know that everyone is terrified of you, right?” 

Your hand was outstretched to raise the bet, but Rhodey beat it to you and called all-in. “W-What?” 

“You don’t know? Really?” He scoffed. “Wow. You really don’t understand humans.” 

“How am I not understanding you?”

“Rhodey, cut it out, man.” Tony grumbled.

You turned your powers back on and sniffed Rhodey’s scent, almost gagging from the amount of alcohol in his veins. “You are intoxicated, James Rhodes. I will not be speaking to you anymore tonight.” 

You guided your chips to Carol and Brunnhilde before going to the bar, finding Pietro there with Wanda and Natasha. You came to Natasha’s side and placed your hand on the small of her back, kissing her forehead gently before listening to the conversation.

“So there was this one girl in HYDRA that Wanda really liked, and dare I say even kissed… and they were so cute!” Pietro grinned at his blushing sister.

“Shut up, Pietro! I told you that in confidence!” Wanda grumbled, looking over at you.

“Oh, hey Y/N/N.” 

“Hello, my favourite twins.” You smirked. “Is it okay if I steal my beautiful girlfriend from your conversation?”

“Of course!” 

You took Natasha’s hand in yours and gently guided her to the fountain outside, sitting down on a bench that faced the beautiful structure. Natasha sat next to you, still holding your hand, and sat in the silence with you.

She knew you struggled with your pure demonic side. The instincts that lay beneath the shell of an intelligent mind. The urge to drink from humans, to punish and make them serve you. She understood what it was like to want to fall back onto those instincts, and she gently kissed the back of your hand to gain your attention.

“What is it, Y/N?” She asked oh so gently, as if her very breath could knock over the tower of your emotions like they were cards.

“I am alright, Tasha. I just needed some air.” You murmured, gently taking her hand in yours to trace your nails over her hand.

Though she doubted your words, she didn’t question them. 

“Thank you for loving me.” You looked at her, eyes full of love.

“I could say the same, my dear.” She cupped your cheek and kissed you softly, pulling away ever so slightly.

“I think we’ve stayed past our hour. Let’s go to bed.” 

You nodded, guiding the shadows to encase you and your love.

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Natasha was right. She was always right.

Over the coming days, you were taken on less missions and nobody could enter your room. On one day that almost everybody had gone, you found yourself looking in the mirror at your reflection. 

“But you know that everyone is terrified of you right?” 

Really? Were you really that hideous to look at? You pushed and pulled at the soft skin of your stomach, the already red tone not showing any evidence. 

*I guess I could show a little less skin… Maybe even do…* You shifted into human colours, sifting through them until you found something you felt was normal.

You looked at your horns and gently shrank them until they disappeared, doing the same with your wings and tail before shortening your nails and fangs. You did a little google search and found the selection of eye colours, picking one that sorta matched the human skin.

*Hmm. I’ll have to get Rhodey’s opinion.* You muttered, looking around for your phone.

“Who… the hell… are you?”

You lifted your head to see Natasha aiming her gun at your forehead, calling out to FRIDAY to alert the team of an intruder. You quickly raised your hands and undid your magic to reveal your eyes, realisation flickering through hers.

“Y/N/N? What…? I don’t understand.” She threw her gun down and came over to you, patting her hands and walking around you.

“Where are your wings? Your tail, your horns, your fangs?”

She looked up at you and cupped your cheeks, her thumbs brushing over your skin - skin she didn’t see as yours.

“Bring it all back. Right now.” She demanded pleadingly.

You closed your eyes and easily broke down your façade, letting her check over you once more to make sure everything was back. She hugged you tightly and sat you down on the bed, taking your hand.

“Y/N, I need you to listen to me. I love you. I love you more than anything or anyone on every single plane of existence, and you need to know that so deeply that you will never doubt it. You need to know it in your bones. And if it takes me telling you every single day for that to happen, then so it will be.” 

You stayed quiet as she studied your hand. “Who made you doubt yourself? Because I certainly know it wasn’t me, Pietro, Wanda or Tony.”

She looked at you after you didn’t answer straight away, her stare piercing through your eyes and into your soul; if you even had one. “Who was it, Y/N? First name, last name, birthday, I don’t care how much information you give me, because I will hunt them down and make them pay for hurting you.” 

“Nobody can hurt me, my love.” You murmured.

“No? Then why do you wish to hide your true self? I do not love you for that other form, I love you for you.” She retorted hastily, your hands taking hers quickly.

“Okay, okay.” You kissed your hands that encompassed hers, closing your eyes as you sent the name through to her mind.

*James Rhodes.* It echoed as her vision turned red.

“Stay here.” She ordered and you did not move for the time she was gone. 

How long it was, you didn’t know, but she came back with bloodied knuckles and a split lip. You instantly stood, your eyes glowing as you towered over her. “Who hurt you?”

“I fought Rhodey for being an asshole to you. And I won.” She smirked, placing a hand on your chest.

“Breathe, my demon. Relax.” 

You took a deep breath and pushed down the instincts, most of which listened to her command. You then opened your eyes, taking another deep breath before you kissed her knuckles. “Come on.”

You took her to the bathroom and gently cleaned her hands, doing a little bit of magic so that they’d heal faster. You turned her around and kissed her deeply, holding her by her waist so that she wouldn’t fall back.

“Thank you, my love.” 

FRIDAY’s call for dinner had both of you wide-eyed, with Natasha leading you by the arm around your waist. 

“Where is your tail?” She asked.

“Right here, Tasha.” You gently wrapped it around her forearm and watched her visibly relax, realising something. 

Your form was what kept Natasha calm. The familiarity of it. Natasha needed you to be her demon to keep herself controlled. Unfamiliarity brought out the Widow hiding in the crevices of Natasha’s bones, and you knew she could do some damage.

As you entered the kitchen, you could feel the tension in the air. Well, actually, it was just your skin tightening from body language, but that’s the same thing.

“Where’s Rhodes?” Steve asked as he walked in with Bucky, the man giving you a pat on the shoulder with his metal arm before serving himself dinner.

“Medical wing.” Tony replied.

“Why?!” 

“Natasha beat him to a pulp. He had to resort to his War Machine hand to hurt her.” 

He looked over at Natasha and she glared at him. “Have something to say about it?”

“What did he do?” He asked instead.

“Insulted Y/N’s demon biology.” She shrugged, standing in front of you even as your tail stayed on her forearm.

“He did what?” The twins growled, Wanda’s eyes glowing and Pietro’s fists blurring in place.

“Good job, Romanoff.” Tony saluted her, dishing himself some dinner too.

“Wait. You’re all just going to agree with this?” You asked.

“Of course. You are a part of the team. You live here, which is a step up from Rhodey in the friendship circle. You are our friend, and we love having you around.” 

“FRIDAY, what is Rhodey’s assessment of injuries?” Bucky asked the AI.

“One punctured lung caused by five broken ribs, another two on the other side, snapped tibia, humerus and radius, dislocated shoulder, black eye and broken cheekbone.” She reported.

Everybody turned to Natasha, watching her curl your tail around her waist whilst wrapping your wing around her body. “My demon. Nobody hurts her without repercussions.”

The group laughed at her antics before sitting down for the movie, Natasha’s hand in yours as she took you over once she served your dinner. She fed you the dinner, making sure to give herself some too in case you scolded her, before snuggling up to you halfway through the movie.

“I love you, my demon.” She whispered against your collarbone, kissing it after.

“I love you, my human.” You replied, keeping her warm as she fell asleep.

You gladly fell asleep with her.

[the-despina-project]

“BananaSoda?”

The yellow-clad human looked up, brushing part of her peel from the front of her visor. The admiral of the other ship stood in the doorway, only defining feature of his white suit being the candied cherry resting on top of his head. Cherry juice dripped down the sides of his helmet, giving him the nearly horrible appearance of having been stabbed by an impostor.

But this was clearly not an impostor, and so BananaSoda rose and followed the other onto the dropship with a sort of uncertainty that was otherwise normal for the situation. “CherryDipp.” The crewmate said as the two sat on either side of a card table. “Captain of the Despina.”

“BananaSoda. Non-Essential Systems Maintenance of the Polus for the last three years.”

CherryDipp nodded, the stem of his cherry bouncing. “You put in a request for this transfer… why? The Despina is much smaller than the Polus Outpost-“

“And more prone to Impostors, I know.” BananaSoda said. “But I’ve been on assignment here for far too long.”

“Three years is admirable.” CherryDipp said. “How many Impostors have there been?”

“I lost count.” BananaSoda said. “So’s everyone else. That’s part of it. You find a body one too many times, people start thinking you’re not who you say you are.”

“Of course, of course.” CherryDipp said, flicking through the records on his tablet. “Hmm, your task quota is admirable. Of course, that may drop on your first few weeks on the Despina, but otherwise… I’m seeing a likely prospect. I will need an updated scan, though, overseen by the Despina’s personal medic. If you will.”

“Of course, of course!” BananaSoda said. “Here, or on the Despina?”

“In the lab, here.” CherryDipp said, standing. “I’m sure you know the way.”

BananaSoda brushed part of her peel out of her visor again, stepping out into the blistering cold. CherryDipp followed close behind, keeping an eye out for rogue Impostors. The lab doors were locked, a sight that made BananaSoda’s stomach flip. But she clicked the switches on the door, regardless, and stepped inside.

Thankfully there was no dead body on the other side of the door. BananaSoda went through to the Medbay, toward the two crewmates near the scanner. One was Cheddr, the orange captain of the Polus Outpost. The other was standing on the scanner- a dark blue crewmate with a plant on his head. BananaSoda didn’t recognize him.

While BananaSoda would normally be thrilled to see their captain alive and well, the knife in Cheddr’s hand said otherwise. BananaSoda grabbed her bullhorn and pressed the REPORT button, creating a loud screech that could probably be heard in space.

Everyone dropped everything and ran to the office; BananaSoda keeping an eye on Cheddr and CherryDipp keeping an eye on the unknown blue crewmate. As soon as it was clear that Chocc and Emil wouldn’t be appearing, all eyes turned to BananaSoda and the guests.

“Where was the body?” Scarret asked, tipping his hat back.

“Medbay.” BananaSoda answered coolly. “Sort of.”

“‘Sort of’?” Reactaur asked. “Hey, why are there two dark blues, anyway?”

“You’re right, Reactaur, it is suspicious that there are two dark blues.” Cheddr said. “One of them is clearly an Impostor. I think it’s the one from the Despina.”

“Cheddr was about to kill this guy!” BananaSoda exclaimed. “I saw it! He- sorry, I don’t know your name-”

“LabRat.” The blue crewmate supplied.

“LabRat was doing a scan, and Cheddr was going to kill him.” BananaSoda said.

“And why were you in Medbay, hmm?” Scarret asked.

“I was gonna do a scan for my possible transfer.” BananaSoda said.

Cheddr shrugged. “Sounds sus to me. Who reports a body where there’s not even a body?”

“I’m done with this pointless meeting.” CherryDipp said suddenly. “BananaSoda was right- Cheddr is an Impostor. And here’s proof.” The Despina’s Captain suddenly grabbed Cheddr, slamming his whole torso into the table and reaching into his pockets. With a flourish, he revealed the knife Cheddr had been carrying and tossed it onto the table.

The other crewmates gasped, but the vote was settled rather quickly. CherryDipp hoisted Cheddr onto his shoulder; the Impostor’s whole demeanor having changed on being found out, he began screaming obscenities and forbidden words as BananaSoda led them to the lava pit.

“Here’s what we do with Impostors.” BananaSoda said.

“Shame we can’t restrain him.” LabRat said. “He’d be perfect for my studies.”

“Goodbye, Cheddr, or whoever you are. This is what you get for threatening my crew member.” CherryDipp said, then threw the Impostor into the pit. The orange of his suit and the orange of the lava practically melded together before he burned to a crisp- a blackened, shriveled hand desperately reaching out as if to strangle the remaining crew as his final act, before sinking fully into the glowing liquid.

“Welp.” BananaSoda said. “That was something. Sorry it completely destroyed the interview, though. Should we reschedule?”

“No need.” CherryDipp said. “You’re hired.”

[stilldani24]

I Am Here

corpse husband x reader oneshot

words: 1233

request: “Corpse x reader where they’re married and no one knows and they’re a Broadway actor/actress and they come home and surprises him when he’s streaming” from anonymous

a/n: the title of this oneshot is a song title from the musical Come From Away, and if you haven’t listened to the soundtrack yet, you definitely need to. Also look for the documentary You Are Here: A Come From Away Story for an amazing dive into the real events and creation of the musical. 

You picked an unconventional career from the get-go. From the instant you told your parents what you wanted to do and where you were moving, they were skeptical but supportive. At eighteen, you moved to America to attend school for musical theatre. Not only were you out on your own for the first time, you were in a completely new country with no friends. Well, no. That was a lie. You had made many friends all across the country. Alex in Virginia, Rachel in New Jersey, Jade in Michigan, and a kid named Corpse in California you had met on Reddit. 

You learned his real name soon after you both developed feelings for each other and began a long distance relationship, but you were more keen in calling him Corpse. 

It suited him better. 

Even after you had officially met, you moved across the country for him, and had gotten married after three years of dating and one year of engagement. You still called him Corpse, especially since his YouTube career took off and that’s all anyone called him. You didn’t want to be caught saying his real name while he was streaming. 

None of his new friends he met playing Among Us knew he was married, or even in a relationship for that matter. He wasn’t at that point with these people yet, they only knew him for his voice and impressive impostor skills. He had gained a following over the years for his Reddit reading videos, so his fans already knew his voice and new fans immediately simped. You found it absolutely adorable, but it was even more reason to keep you a secret. Despite being married, you didn’t mind. 

While his YouTube following was increasing, your career was steadily climbing. Broadway had just been reopened following the pandemic and thus a new wave of auditions. You had since graduated and had an agent, and she sent you every audition that fit you. And surprisingly, you were cast in Come From Away, a musical about Operation: Yellow Ribbon following the 9/11 attacks. The cast only consisted of twelve actors, no ensemble, so you were front and centre every night. It was a dream come true, and you had a blast. You hated being away from your husband, but he understood completely and wanted you to chase every opportunity life gave you. 

After six consecutive weeks in New York City, you were granted a full month off from the show so you could go home and be with your husband. It was rumoured that Come From Away would be opening in Los Angeles so you were hopeful you would be able to transfer from Broadway to LA. But until then, you had a month off and were excited to go home before having to return back to your NYC studio apartment. 

You slowly opened the door to your shared apartment in San Diego, your huge suitcase of luggage behind you as you moved through the apartment. You didn’t call out for your husband, wanting to surprise him completely wherever he was. You were certain he wasn’t streaming, as he wasn’t talking or anything, so you looked around the apartment. When you deduced he was in his gaming room, you thought he was deep in the zone of editing something.

You swung open the door excitedly. “Honey, I’m home!”

Corpse was definitely streaming, just in the lobby as everyone was afk probably grabbing food or using the bathroom. He jumped in his seat, eyes wide as he made eye contact with you. You were frozen as you noticed he was streaming. He was probably speaking the entire time, just quietly so you didn’t hear him, and you had just revealed this huge secret.

Corpse didn’t care.

He threw his headset aside, a huge grin on his face, as he ran to you and scooped you up in his arms as best as he could. “Holy shit, you’re home! Holy fuck!”

You laughed as you hugged him tightly, burying your face into his neck as you just took in his warmth. You didn’t care about the fact that he was streaming anymore. “Hi, baby,” you murmured to him lovingly, then grabbing his face in your hands and planting a fat, juicy kiss on his lips. 

“Why didn’t you call me or text me, I could’ve picked you up at the airport!” he laughed, just holding your face in his hands and looking at you. 

“I didn’t think you’d be streaming today, so I wanted to surprise you,” you replied, laughing now as he gave you soft kisses on your forehead and cheeks. “Sorry, uh, I ruined our secret.”

“I don’t give a fuck, not a single one, you’re home,” he gushed happily, before looking back to his set up. He let out a low chuckle as he watched the chat scroll by quickly. “Come on.”

He led you to his set up, sitting down in his chair before pulling you down onto his lap. He placed his headset back on, one hand on his mouse while the other arm wrapped around your waist with his hand resting on your thigh.

“Chat, this is my spouse, Y/N. They, uh, they’ve been in New York on Broadway for a month and a half and I’ve missed them so much. Say hi, babe,” he smiled at you now.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you replied shyly, thankful there wasn’t a facecam so they couldn’t see how flustered you were. Or how fucking beat you looked after your long flight. 

“Woah, Corpse, you’re married?!” Sean’s excited voice sounded from Corpse’s headset, making you giggle. “Dude, why didn’t you tell us?”

“Jesus, Corpse, you had me here really thinking I had a chance,” Sykkuno then said, making the both of you laugh now. 

“It never came up, sorry, guys,” Corpse replied, giving you a slight squeeze. “Yeah, we’ve been together for four years, and we got married last year.”

“Don’t worry, you can still simp over my husband. But if you dare think of actually stealing him from me, I’ll tap dance all over you,” you warned. 

“Wait, Corpse said that you came back from Broadway? What show?” Rae then asked. Corpse had moved one of the ears off of his own and turned up the volume so you could actually hear. 

“Oh, uh, Come From Away. I’ve only been there since Broadway reopened, but I kinda got lucky getting cast,” you replied sheepishly, curling into Corpse a little bit more. 

“That’s bullshit, you have a gorgeous voice,” Corpse replied, pinching your thigh slightly.

“Sing, sing, sing!” his friends began chanting, making you blush heavily and bury your face into his neck. You could perform for hundreds eight times a week but as soon as you were in front of his close friends and over two hundred thousand viewers on his stream, you got incredibly flustered. 

“Alright, guys, relax, they just got home and probably need to rest,” Corpse came to your defence, kissing your cheek softly before letting you get up. “Before you leave, babe. I love you.”

“Awww, I love you too,” you cooed softly, leaning down and giving him a soft kiss. You heard his friends taunting him from his headset, making you giggle softly and leave the room as Corpse turned back to his computer to continue his stream.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.”

[vladdocs]

ENG Letter from the Voivode Vlad Draguli Tepes of March 14, 1457. *** By content: This letter finally clarifies the political situation between Wallachia and Transylvania, which became the cause of the conflict in 1457 and later. However, to understand the situation, it is worth reading first two other documents, the first, the agreement between the parties, the terms of assistance, the second, the document of the request for help from the voivode. This document follows in this chain the third, interesting from the point of view of the conflict. After the voivode did not receive an answer, according to the agreement, he goes to the lands where the applicants for the throne of Wallachia and their accomplices are hiding. According to the agreement, if you remember, the party on whose land the applicant and his people are hiding, preferably, betrays (meets the voivode as a friend) intruders, or does not interfere with their search. Probably, the governor did not meet any assistance in Transylvania, which is not surprising, given this attitude. Having crossed the Turnu-Rosu pass and arriving at the places where the aforementioned gentlemen were hiding, but faced with complete indifference, the voivode made an attempt to persuade Transylvania to reckon with itself. The result of this was the burned villages of Kasholts, Khosman and Nou Romyn near the very Sibiu. For decades, Transylvania, which had been shaking the nerves of the governors of Wallachia, was literally shocked by such an act, unprecedented in its kind, so that echoes of indignation reached us in the form of pamphlets, legends, stories, where from year to year, from decade to decade, the number of “innocents” increases, just like the number of "victims". In those stories, it comes to the point where the death toll during that period significantly exceeds even the number of all who lived at that time in one of the largest cities in Transylvania, Brasov. What exactly prompted the governor to take such a decisive, long-needed step? Was it the indirect participation of Transylvania in all the coups in Wallachia?, the murder of his family?, an attempt on his own murder?. It is unlikely that the voivode was so restrained and patient that, having come to power “without any help,” he concludes a strong peace with Transylvania and approaches it very responsibly. This letter is also very interesting, with a phrase that some historians even interpret as a threat: “If you don’t want even more, then immediately inform us so that we can rule and govern”. However, from the point of view of the choice of vocabulary, "quod nos regere et gubern {are p} ossemus" is completely neutral and, speaking figuratively in modern words, has the following content: the voivode, being a ruler, will be able to begin to regulate the current situation only when he finds out about the further political course of his neighbor, Transylvania, and does not want to be in the dark about that, therefore he asks to inform about his decision. There is nothing else in this phrase, "reign and govern", "herrschen und lenken", in any translation, that is, to be the ruler and therefore to control the situation. For all that, few people focus on the fact that they tried to kill the governor in Transylvania when he needed help. They also pay little attention to the fact that the voivode expresses, albeit tactfully within the framework of necessary diplomacy, about his attitude to the origin of the applicant: “his infringement on our right of the true (!) Heir”, “a monk from Wallachia who calls himself a son voivode ", the latter is twice specially indicated. Given these moments, I personally cannot understand why Vlad The Monk is definitely considered the illegitimate child of Dragul, when among his sons his father is not mentioned anywhere in the documents, not even once, and one of the sons frankly says that the Monk is an impostor. In my opinion, Vlad Monk is another Neagoe Bassarab, of which, as we remember, there were plenty of them. With only one commander Dragulya Tepes, duplicated Mirchi, Vlada and

forged documents suddenly appeared. Letter from the governor Vlad Draguli Tepes dated March 14, 1457. *** Noble, prudent and far-sighted men, advisers, fathers, brothers, our sincerely dear friends and neighbors, as you remember, and you should be well aware of that, there is a commitment between us, and vows backed by unshakable loyalty have been taken; and these obligations and vows must not be violated by anyone and never, while we are alive, at any time, which we personally specifically pointed out to you in a letter. From our side of evil, we did not do you and did not intend to start that. But today a rumor has reached us and we have learned about all that, that at a secret council you were with the people of a monk from Wallachia, who calls himself the son of a governor *, settled their affairs; Moreover, Peter Gereb * from Virishmort, and Peterman *, the son of the noble Peterman, who were neighboring with you, took part in this. You were personally promised to transfer all the fees to you in Rukar and Brail for a long time, promising that Wallachia's income. * Remember the time when I wandered and arrived in your lands *, you then did not let me into your council, but instead, out of loyalty to the noble lord, the governor of these lands, Vladislav entrusted the noble men John Gereb from Wingard and Nicholas from Salzburg to capture us in the city of Joaju and to end us. But by the will of God, we ourselves were able to return our lands without any help *, but with you, we made a strong peace and thus made your enemies ours. Today we fully understand that you support a monk from Wallachia, who calls himself the son of a governor, and his people in an encroachment on our right to be a true heir, and we also understand what bad consequences for us everything can lead, since you are already Advice with him, and he, having made his way to Amlash, remained there, and is there to this day by your own will. Therefore, with this letter we ask each and every one of you that in the name of the God and according to the commandments of the Catholic faith, as well as for the sake of maintaining fraternal peace and friendship between us, after reading our letter, you will certainly write to us or report back, whether you wish further observe the order established by us and you in writing and be loyal to it. If you do not wish that more, then immediately inform us, so that we can rule and govern. Given in Targoviste on the second day after the feast of Blessed Pope Gregory, in the year 1457. Vlad, Commander of the Transalpine lands, your faithful brother, son and friend in everything. Comments: * Identity of Vlad the monk is speculative only. * Peter Gereb * from Virishmort was a judge and head of Sibiu in 1467, later he was executed in the city square because of his participation in the uprising against Corwin considered bloodthirsty). Peterman was a wealthy Sibiu merchant from Wallachia, Kampulung; the city was located on the trade route from Rukar to Brasov. The German-speaking community living there maintained close relations with Sibiu. * Fees from you in Rukar were the most important source of income for Wallachia, therefore they were never the object of donation or lease. Braila Port, located on the Danube, was the country's most important port and was of exceptional importance for trade in the western Black Sea region. The decision of the self-appointed claimant to take away the income from the country and give it to Transylvania was also unprecedented, his desire to curry favor was painfully strong. * After an unsuccessful attempt to regain legal power in November 1448, the voivode fled to Moldavia. However, there is no evidence that he was present at the court of Bogdan II. Perhaps he found refuge among the Moldovan boyars who were supporters of his family. Later, the voivode is forced to move to Transylvania, after Vladislav finds himself in the same situation as many voivods before him and therefore loses the support of the Hungarians. * Joaju (Rom. Geoagiu, ung. Algyógy) is located in the Hunedoara

Sudce, where the Hunyadi family owned vast estates and were surrounded by numerous supporters. The authors of the book Corpus Draculianum contradict themselves, first they write that the Hungarians removed Vladislav because of his pro-Ottoman policy, and then that the murder of the governor could have been ordered by Hunyadi, so that, literally: “Hunyadi wanted to prevent Vlad's attack on Vladislav, so as not to violate the truce with by the Ottomans ". Several different statements. And why would Vlad even then be in Joaju, "where the Hunyadi family owned vast estates and were surrounded by numerous supporters." Honestly, I am alarmed by the attempt of the authors of the book to constantly challenge the words of the voivode in the documents (I often notice in the comments, they say, “the voivode is misleading,” or “in fact, the reason was something else, and not indicated by the voivode” (they apparently, instead of the governor, they know much better what was the cause of what was in the 15th century, in this case the same example, after all, everything is written in black and white, who attempted and why) and suppose “their own” version. I do not know the purpose of such comments. An example, one of the many about challenging, openly refuting the words of the voivode in his letter with his statement, is the commentary on the phrase “But by the will of the Lord we ourselves were able to return our lands without any help.” In the commentary to this phrase, the authors of the aforementioned publication, the governor is accused of lying, citing a completely empty formal oath to Postumus in March 1456 and arguing that (as it turns out, it was not Hunyadi who wanted to kill, as they had previously stated) with the help of Hun eadi. In support of the versions, documents are cited that are not evidence of the indicated facts, even indirectly. In some comments, the authors of the publication accuse the voivode of issuing an ultimatum without offering any negotiations, and this is for this phrase: “Therefore, with this letter we ask each and every one of you that in the name of the Lord and according to the commandments of the Catholic faith, and also for the sake of maintaining fraternal peace and friendship between us (!), after reading our letter, you certainly wrote or reported to us (!) whether you want to continue to observe the order established by us and you in writing (!) and be loyal to it. If you do not wish that more, then immediately inform us, so that we can rule and rule. " I don’t know how even softer it is possible to write after an attempted murder, after a betrayal and a secret conspiracy, the ruler who previously concluded an agreement with you asks you to inform us about your preference in actions. I cannot understand what the authors are pursuing with such comments. _____________________ RU Письмо воеводы Влада Драгули Цепеша от 14 марта 1457 года, перевод группы Воевода Валахии XV века Влад Цепеш Дракула. *** По содержанию: Данное письмо окончательно проясняет политическую ситуацию между Валахией и Трансильванией, ставшую причиной конфликта и в 1457 , и позже. Однако, для понимания ситуации стоит прочесть сначала два других документа, первый, договор между сторонами, условия содействия, второй, документ просьбы о помощи от воеводы. Данный документ следует в этой цепи третьим, интересным с точки зрения конфликта. После того, как воевода не получил ответа, согласно договору, он отправляется в земли, где укрываются претенденты на трон Валахии и их пособники. Согласно договору, если помните, сторона, на чьей земле скрывается претендент и его люди, предпочтительно, выдает (встречает воеводу , как приятеля) злоумышленников, либо не препятствует их поиску. Вероятно, воевода не встретил никакого содействия в Трансильвании, что и неудивительно, учитывая подобное отношение. Переправившись через перевал Турну-Рошу и прибыв в места укрывательства перечисленных господ, но столкнувшись с полным безразличием, воевода предпринял попытку убедить Трансильванию считаться с собой. Результатом этого стали сожженные

деревни Кашольц, Хосман и Ноу Ромын близ того самого Сибиу. Десятилетиями трепавшая нервы воеводам Валахии Трансильвания была в буквальном смысле шокирована таким поступком, беспрецедентным в своем роде настолько, что отголоски возмущения дошли до нас в виде памфлетов, сказаний, рассказов, где из года в год, из десятилетия в десятилетие, и число «невинно убиенных» становится все больше, и смерти все краше. В ряде рассказов доходит до того, что число погибших в тот период значительно превышает даже численность всех, живших на тот момент в одном из самых крупных городов Трансильвании, Брашове. Что же именно подвигло воеводу на такой решительный, давно нужный шаг? Было ли то косвенное участие Трансильвании во всех переворотах в Валахии, убийство его семьи, покушение на его собственное убийство. Вряд ли, воевода был настолько сдержан и терпелив, что, придя ко власти «без всякой помощи», заключает крепкий мир с Трансильванией и очень ответственно к тому подходит. Данное письмо очень интересно и фразой, которую некоторые историки даже трактуют как угрозу: «Ежели не желаете того более, то тотчас сообщите нам, дабы мы могли властвовать и править». Однако, с точки зрения выбора лексики, «quod nos regere et gubern{are p}ossemus» вполне нейтральна и , если говорить переносно современными словами, имеет следующее содержание: воевода, будучи правителем, сможет начать регулировать сложившуюся ситуацию , лишь тогда, когда узнает о дальнейшем политическом курсе своего соседа, Трансильвании, и не желает быть в неведении о том, потому просит сообщить о своем решении. Ничего другого в данной фразе нет, «reign and govern», «herrschen und lenken», в любом переводе, то есть, быть господарем и потому управлять ситуацией. При всем, мало кто акцентирует внимание на том, что воеводу пытались убить в Трансильвании, когда ему нужна была помощь. Также мало акцентируют внимание и на том, что воевода высказывает, пусть и тактично в рамках необходимой дипломатии, о своем отношении к происхождению претендента: «его в посягательстве на наше право истинного (!) наследника», «монаха из Валахии, кто величает себя сыном воеводы», последнее дважды особо указывается. Учитывая данные моменты, я лично не могу понять, почему Влада Монаха определенно считают внебрачным ребенком Драгула, когда среди сыновей его нигде не упоминается в документах самого отца, ни разу, а один из сыновей откровенного говорит, что Монах самозванец. На мой взгляд, Влад Монах очередной Нягое Бассараб, которых на деле, как помним, было полно. Только с одним воеводой Драгулей Цепешем внезапно появились и дублированные Мирчи, Влады и поддельные документы. Письмо воеводы Влада Драгули Цепеша от 14 марта 1457 года. *** Знатные, благоразумные и дальновидные мужи, советники, отцы, браться, наши искренне дорогие друзья и соседи, как вы помните, а о том должно вам быть хорошо известно, есть между нами обязательства , и даны клятвы, подкрепленные непоколебимой верностью; и сие обязательства и клятвы недолжно никому и никогда, пока мы живы, в любое время нарушать, на что мы вам лично особливо в письме указывали . С нашей стороны зла мы вам не творили и не намеревались то начинать. Но нынче дошел до нас слух и мы обо всем том узнали , что на тайном совете с вами были и дела свои улаживали люди монаха из Валахии, кто величает себя сыном воеводы*; пуще того, принимали в том участие и Петер Гереб *из Виришморта, и Петерман *, сын знатного Петермана, соседствующие с вами. Вам лично пообещали надо��го передать все сборы с вам в Рукаре и Брэиле , посулив тем доходы Валахии.* Припомните же то время, когда скитался я и в ваши земли прибыл*, не пустили вы тогда меня в совет свой, но вместо этого вы из преданности знатному господину ,воеводе тогда этих земель , Владиславу поручили знатным мужам Иоанну Геребу из Вингарда и Николаю из Зальцбурга нас в граде Джоаджу пленить и с нами покончить. Но по воле Господа смогли мы сами без всякой помощи земли свои вернуть*, а с вами же мы заключили крепкий мир и тем сделали ваших неприятелей нашими. Нынче мы всецело разумеем то, что вы поддерживаете монаха из

Валахии , кто сыном воеводы себя величает, и людей его в посягательстве на наше право истинного наследника, а также понимаем и то, к каким худым последствиям для нас все может привести, раз вы уж и совет с ним держите, и он , в Амлаш пробравшись , там и остался , и там доныне находится по вашей же собственной воле. Потому сим письмом просим мы всех и каждого из вас о том, чтобы во имя Господа и по заповедям веры католической, а также ради поддержания между нами братского мира и дружбы, вы, прочтя наше письмо , нам непременно ответ написали или доложили, желаете ли далее соблюдать письменно установленный нами и вами порядок и быть тому преданными . Ежели не желаете того более, то тотчас сообщите нам , дабы мы могли властвовать и править. Дано в Тырговиште на второй день после праздника блаженного папы Григория, в год 1457. Влад, воевода земель Трансальпийских , ваш верный брат, сын и слуга во всем. Знатным, благоразумным и дальновидным мужам, бургомистру Освальду, судье и советникам Сибиу, всем нашим мужам саксам из Семиградья, нашим искренне уважаемым друзьям и соседям. ___________________________________________________________________________ Комментарии: *Идентификация личности Влада монаха лишь предположительная. * Петер Гереб *из Виришморта был судьей и главой Сибиу в 1467 году, позже его казнят на городской площади из-за его участия в восстании против Корвина (последнему, выходит, отмечу от себя, можно так поступать с заговорщиками и претендентами на власть и не считаться кровожадным). Петерман же был богатым торговцем Сибиу родом из Валахии , Кымпулунг; город располагался на торговом пути от Рукара в Брашов. Проживавшее там немецкоязычное сообщество поддерживало тесные отношения с Сибиу. *Сборы с вам в Рукаре были самым важным источником дохода для Валахии , потому они никогда не выступали объектом пожертвования или аренды. Порт Брэйла, расположенный на Дунае, был самым важным портом страны и име�� исключительное значение для торговли в западно-черноморском регионе. Решение самозваного претендента отнять доход у страны и подарить его Трансильвании также было беспрецедентным, больно сильным было его желание выслужиться. * После неудачной попытки вернуть законную власть в ноябре 1448 года , воевода бежал в Молдавию . Однако, нет никаких доказательств того, что он присутствовал при дворе Богдана II. Возможно, он нашел прибежище среди молдавских бояр, которые были сторонниками его семьи. Позже воевода вынужден перебраться в Трансильванию, после того, как Владислав оказывается в той же ситуации, что и многие воеводы до него и потому лишается поддержки венгров. *Джоаджу (рум. Geoagiu, ung. Algyógy) расположен в судце Хунедоара, где семья Хуньяди владела обширными владениями и была окружена многочисленными сторонниками. Авторы книги Corpus Draculianum противоречат себе , сначала пишут, что венгры убрали Владислава из-за его проосманской политики, а потом, что убийство воеводы мог заказать Хуньяди , чтобы, дословно: «Хуньяди хотел предотвратить нападение Влада воеводы на Владислава , чтобы не нарушать перемирие с османами». Несколько различные утверждения. Да и зачем бы Владу вообще тогда находиться именно в Джоаджу, «где семья Хуньяди владела обширными владениями и была окружена многочисленными сторонниками». Меня, честно, настораживает ко всему попытка авторов книги постоянно оспорить слова воеводы в документах (не раз то замечаю в комментариях, мол, «воевода вводит в заблуждение», или «на деле же причиной было иное, а не указанное воеводой» (они, видно, вместо воеводы куда лучше знают, что же причиной чего и было в 15 веке , в данном случае тот же пример, все ведь черным по белому писано, кто покушался и зачем) и предположить «свою» версию. Бессмысленно то. А вот какова цель подобных комментариев мне неизвестно. Примером, одним из многочисленных об оспаривании , откровенном опровержении слов воеводы в письме своим утверждением, является и комментарий к фразе «Но по воле Господа смогли мы сами без всякой помощи земли свои вернуть». В комментарии к данной фразе авторы вышеупомянутого издания обвиняют воеводу во

лжи, приводя основой совершенно пустую формальную присягу Постуму марта 1456 и утверждая, что (как оказывается, уже не Хуньяди убить хотел, как ранее ими было заявлено) с помощью Хуньяди. В поддержку версий приводятся документы, не являющиеся доказательствами указанных фактов даже косвенно. В некоторых комментариях авторы издания обвиняют воеводу в том, что он выставил ультиматум, не предлагая никаких переговоров, и это к данной фразе : «Потому сим письмом просим мы всех и каждого из вас о том, чтобы во имя Господа и по заповедям веры католической, а также ради поддержания между нами братского мира и дружбы (!), вы, прочтя наше письмо , нам непременно ответ написали или доложили, (!)желаете ли далее соблюдать письменно установленный (!)нами и вами порядок и быть тому преданными. Ежели не желаете того более, то тотчас сообщите нам , дабы мы могли властвовать и править». Уж не знаю, как еще мягче можно написать после покушения на свое убийство, после предательства и тайного заговора, правитель , заключивший ранее с вами договор, просит вас сообщить о вашем предпочтении в действиях. Не могу понять, какую цель преследуют авторы такими комментариями.

[northernmariette]

Marshal Ney’s “Emigration” to the United States

There is a tenacious legend that Ney was not executed and that he emigrated to the United States. Personally, I don’t believe it for a second. Ney’s features were distinctive and well-known. The curé who rode with him never expressed any doubt that he was in Ney’s company; the gendarmes who rode with him in the carriage never expressed any doubt that they were in Ney’s company; the members of the firing squad never expressed any doubt they were shooting at anyone but Ney; none of those witnessing the execution expressed any doubt that it was Ney who died before their eyes; the nuns who were handed Ney’s body never expressed any doubt that this was indeed his body; those who put the body into the caskets never expressed any doubt that it was Ney’s body they were handling. Saving Ney from execution would have implied a massive conspiracy, organized with hours to spare and never yet revealed.

Here is what the Sénat has to say about this:

The legend of Ney in the United States

During the trial, a rumour already circulated among soldiers: "The Marshal will not be executed."

Before his burial, some veterans spread the word that the execution had been a sham and that the Marshal was still alive. Many wanted to believe this version of events, such keen interest did this individual and his military exploits generate; this rumour was all the more believable  as Ney had planned to leave France for the United States, as General Moreau and his family had done in 1804. This legend is based on an appeal by the Duke of Wellington to King Louis XVIII, of whom he is said to have asked for a pardon. The Duke is alleged to have been helped by adherents of Freemasonry, to which Ney belonged. So did many of the high-ranking military men surrounding Napoleon, who was himself initiated in 1801 into the Saint-Jean-de-Jérusalem Lodge in Nancy.

Ney is alleged to have moved to the United States, near Cleveland in North Carolina, where he supposedly worked as a teacher under the pseudonym Peter Stuart. In favour of this theory, this character was a tall, red-haired man with many scars, who spoke English with a German accent. He claimed to be Marshal Ney, and displayed comprehensive knowledge of Ney's life and of the battles in which he participated. In addition, a gravedigger called Dumesnil at the Père-Lachaise cemetery, given in 1903 the task of transferring the Marshal’s remains from his first grave to the current monument, always claimed that the coffin was empty. As for arguments against this theory, Peter Stuart knew Latin, Greek and Hebrew, which Ney did not. It is assumed that this impostor was an officer of the Grande Armée who knew Ney well. He died in November 1846, at the age of seventy-seven, thirty-one years after the Marshal's execution.

Ney's family seems never to have given credence to this legend, or even to have been made aware of it.

The original French text for this can be found here: 

 https://www.senat.fr/evenement/archives/D26/execution_et_rehabilitations/la_legende_aux_etats_unis.html

In the arguments in favour of the legend, it is not surprising that Peter Stuart spoke with a German accent: Ney’s mother tongue was German, not French, and he never lost his native accent.

In the arguments against the legend, I have to wonder why “Ney” would not have asked his family to join him in the United States.

[pollylynn]

Title: Devisal WC: 2000 Episode: Knockout (3 x 24)

What will she give to this? The thing she walked away from. The thing that gave chase. The thing she has since turned on and bared her teeth, her claws, but what will she give to this?

Time.

This has been the answer for weeks. It has been the answer for months.

She fetches down her mother’s ring from its nail behind the shutters, from the place where it stands watch among the photos, the ragged-edged news clippings, the tight scrawl of her own writing. She begins a new thicket of hash marks—sixteen weeks today. Sixteen times she has fetched down her mother’s ring.

She fetches her mother’s ring from its tucked away place inside her jacket, from where it nestles as close to her body as she can bear these days. She fetches it out and stares as it catches the sallow fluorescent light, as she waits for the buzzer to make the cage sting out. The tiny stone flickers with all its might, urgent as an SOS. The chain hisses against itself as the ring spins. It winds. It unwinds.

She mechanically thanks one guard—a different one each week. A different one much of the time? She’s not sure. There’s only the wait for the buzzer, the cage singing out. There is only the ring with its frantic shower of minute sparks.

And then there is the dance with the man beyond the cage. The man inside is a constant. Ryker. She knows his name. She doesn’t know his name. Now slides past then. This time swaps places with last time—with the last fifteen times. Time is what she gives. This is what she gets, a street punk’s game of Three-Card Monte. Find the Lady. Find the Lady.

She knows the man inside, but he does not know her. What will she give to this? Nothing of herself. Nothing of who she is. This is the bargain she has struck.

She grits her teeth. Officer Ryker, she says, and maybe it’s pleasant. Maybe it’s not. Either way, He has a smile at the ready and a lame joke teed up—today it’s a serial arsonist, an armed robber. For her part, there is the polite laugh. When did that start, she wonders? How much time trickled to the bottom of the hourglass before this became their version of Hi, honey, how was your day?

He—Officer Ryker—puts the kettle on, as it were. He dials up the next man inside, some other faceless inconstant, she thinks. A different one each week. A different one much of the time? Ryker rattles off Hal Lockwood’s prisoner ID from memory.

He does not know her. He has never asked why she comes, who Lockwood is to her, what it is she comes in search of, week after week. He simply does everything she does, backwards in uniform-issue shoes.

This is before, though. This is the fifteen times before, and time is suddenly not enough.

*******************

What will she give to this? The thing that has come for her at last. The thing that has the audacity to tell her that she is not predator, but prey. What is it now that she will she give?

A fucking show.

She blocks Castle’s apologies, his empathy, his pity, like so many blows raining down in the chaos of a bar brawl. She knocks him off balance. She makes a point of how off-kilter they are—how out of the loop he is. It’s all part of the show. He’s sorry about McCallister’s execution? He must not have the faintest idea what she’s been doing for all these weeks, all these months. McCallister’s murder goes in the win column. It’s the paper trail of her dreams. It’s Christmas in May.

Stricken by this, wounded and terrified, by her and for her, he still musters up the courage to point out that Lockwood’s cage is unlikely to rattle? She shows him her back. She struts away at speed, tossing revelations over her shoulder: Lockwood is the B-plot. He is nothing but a drop-kick lapdog. She’s going after the king of the beasts, armed with a chair and a whip.

And that’s all just Act I.

Act II. Interior: Bullpen. She is in constant motion. She she raps out unnecessary orders. The boys are on the case of who ordered Lockwood’s transfer. They are on the tail-chasing mission of trying to find something—anything—on the courtroom impostors. They are on the chopper and recordings of Lockwood’s calls. They are on the job of stating the obvious—say hello to Charlie and Mike: She is Lockwood’s next target, and that suits her just fine.

But it’s a plot twist. It’s an uproar. It’s a red herring? Maybe it’s a red herring.

Everyone’s blood runs cold when the Captain points out that she’d have already been dead on the courtroom floor if it were her back with a target painted on it. There’s no pause for a dramatic musical cue. Castle is on his feet. He is on exposition duty, desperate to change the narrative. his hands fly across the murder board, swapping file photos from slot to slot to slot until the letters that sprawl across each one to spell out deceased become nothing but a blur. Find the lady. Find the lady.

Her eyes are locked on her mother’s picture, the one fixed point she can find amid the frenetic show-time energy. Her ring is missing. The shutters and the nail that tips its head toward the ceiling are nowhere to be found. There is no shower of tiny sparks and no hiss of the chain against itself as it winds, unwinds, winds again.

.

And still, she’s putting on a show. They are putting on a show, and this is how it happens.

What will she give to this? Every poor player among them, piece by piece. Now. This is what she will give.

*******************

What will she give to this? The ravenous, undying thing that winds itself around her and drops its venom in her ear. There is no question of predator and prey now, there is only who she has been and this undying thing, entwined. The words of Gary McCallister, of Hal Lockwood bubble up—So much bigger than you realize. You can’t hide from him. These, whispers the ravenous, undying thing, are the only true words ever spoken. And for this truth, to this truth, what will she give?

Her mind. Her heart. The twanging snip of threads that have bound her to life—to everything other than this. She will give in. That is what she will give.

It begins in the hangar. It begins with the chopper, scrubbed down, reeking of bleach, looming. It begins with one pathetic bullet hole. Details swirl in the air—stolen, hedge fund, the Caribbean. Wherever her feet land, wherever her shoulders try to straighten themselves, the shadow of the hulking bird presses down on her. This is the metaphor.

Why now?

The question is hers. It is not hers. It is the slither and hiss of threads untangling in her mind, though her voice—out in the world—sounds normal. It sounds like a perfectly reasonable thing to ask, and he shrugs. He calculates exactly the gesture, his tone, the glance delivered on an oblique angle. He is wary. He is managing her.

Time, planning, resources, he says, and every molecule of air in that hangar thrums with black suspicion.

What if it was something else?

There is is again, the slither and hiss. What if it was him? That’s what the ravenous, undying thing wants to know.

I will do anything that you need, including nothing, if that's what you want.

What kind of fool believes that, when he’s standing there, perfectly at home next to a two-million-dollar toy,? He gives a makes sense, yeah, that’ll happen nod as Esposito explains the owner might never have even realized the fucking bird was gone without her one pathetic shot dimpling its tail.

Makes sense, he nods, and what kind idiot would never think to wonder what strings he has been pulling since Dick Coonan, since John Raglan, since she was pathetic enough, needy enough to name him someone she trusts? She lives with his ego, day in and day out. She lives with his savior complex, and what if it was him who set all this in motion?

That’s it. That’s it. The frantic blur of bent plastic cards comes to an end. Find the Lady.

She gives in. She lets the black suspicion rear up and bare its fangs, and when he comes to her—when he dares come to her as though he knows her—she strikes.

What about you, Rick?

Is that what we are?

We are over.

And just like that, she is free. She is swallowed whole. She floats, weightless, in the black.

She gives in.

*********************

What will she give to this? What has she given to this?

Her family. The one she has built. The one that has built itself around her. The one that lies in ruins at her feet, because she let this thing blot out everything else in existence.

What has she given to this that she can never reclaim?

A decade and more of her life, spent in hiding—spent behind the cheap plastic mask of a heroine, an avenging angel, a dutiful daughter, a warrior. There is the twanging snip of a frayed elastic band, the almost silent fall of an unconvincing disguise falling, falling.

What is left to her—of her—after all she has given to this?

Nothing.

That is the slither and hiss again. That is cowardice that will not see the shower of tiny sparks, that will not heed the urgent SOS sent out by what little of her mother she can carry with her.

And she does carry her mother with her on this day of days. She wears the delicate links of chain next to her skin, beneath the suffocating weight of her dress uniform. She feels her heart beating, beating, beating, against the solid circle of it. She feels unworthy of it. She knows she is unworthy of it. But she carries her mother with her on this day of days. She heeds that urgent message at last.

What is left of her—to her—after all she has thrown on the pyre? Not nothing.

There is a sea of stalwart shoulders around her, bowed by grief that is hers, that is theirs, that is a terrible weight shared among them. There is a sea of tear-streaked faces brave enough to seek the sun, even now. There is a sea of warriors and dutiful daughters, of shining examples, giving and receiving grace. There is a wordless chorus that knocks around the hollow remains of her mind, her heart, as if to say This is how it’s done. This is how we mourn. Together. This is how.

This is what bravery is—to hear them. This is what is righteous and healing—to be a shoulder, a face, a spark of grace, given and received.

What is left?

He is left. She is left. They are left, despite her craven pronouncements, despite his lies of omission and barbed-wire truths. They are left.

She speaks this into being. A tremulous, unfamiliar voice that seems to be hers speaks this unassailable fact into being.

You find someone to stand with you.

It is a beginning. Not a harvest, but a tentative vision for what might grow here. It is not a question. Not yet. She is still in pieces. He is still in ruins. They are still dragon’s teeth, scattered on still-smoking ground, waiting to be human. Waiting to see if they can be human, alone and together.

But still, it is a beginning—a nascent question: What can she take from this?

A/N: So. After taking on a spur-of-the-moment, enormous editing project with a tight deadline, There was total lack of morphousness until 3 AM. Sprawling, writhing lack of morphousness that was only half of this. So I had to add a second half of absolute absence of morphousness this morning, obviously. OBVIOUSLY.

images via homeofthenutty

[elyvorg]

Imagine if the students successfully “defeated” Monokuma in trial 5, and also that Kaito incidentally had about one more day to live as of that point in time. (This is the end result of my trial 5 AU, not that any of the story in that post is particularly relevant to the AU story I’m about to present here.) An anon suggested to me that, from here, the students could demand that Monokuma owes them a life – in other words, he has to nurse Kaito back to health for them.

I had my doubts over whether it’d be the right call to actually trust Monokuma with Kaito’s health in that situation… but then again, that’s the fun part. What if they did make the mistake of entrusting Kaito’s life to Monokuma? What cruel things could he do while still technically complying with their demands?

Here’s what I thought of: Monokuma “saves Kaito’s life” by making a huge Flashback Light full of Kaito’s backstory plus all his experiences throughout the killing game itself, and all those memories get shoved into a fresh body. This would create a new person who is essentially still Kaito and is also perfectly healthy. Ta-da, Kaito gets to live!

Meanwhile, Kaito – our Kaito, the one who actually went through the killing game with his friends – well, he’s not needed any more. So, completely unbeknownst to anyone else, Monokuma just leaves him somewhere to die.

Aaaaand my thoughts on this idea escalated rather a lot, to the point that there’s kind of a whole story here.

Kaito’s death

Kaito is taken to some empty room somewhere – I dunno, maybe there’s a bed in it to at least give a vague impression that it could be some kind of hospital room, but maybe not even that – and told to just wait for the nurses to come and see to him. So he waits, his suspicion growing, and it doesn’t take long for him to get the sinking realisation that nobody’s coming, are they. He goes to open the door to try and look for Monokuma and yell at him to stop screwing around and keep his goddamn end of the bargain, only to find it locked.

With a chilling dread, it hits him that this was all a trap – a really obvious one at that, one he literally walked right into like an absolute moron. Monokuma never had any plans to cure him at all.

He’s going to die here, in this room, completely and utterly alone.

Kaito wouldn’t just give up, of course. He’d furiously try to bust down the locked door keeping him trapped there, but… his body would be so weak by now that he wouldn’t stand a chance. He’d only end up hurting himself even more, and after a while he just wouldn’t have the strength to keep trying.

And he might have more or less resigned himself and been mentally prepared for the fact that he’s not surviving this illness – though losing that glimmer of a way out he’d almost thought he had really, really kind of sucks – but, this is worse than he thought it’d be. Up until now, he'd finally begun to feel some relief in that, even if he does still end up dying, at least he'll die something of a hero, surrounded by his friends. Not like this. He never wanted to die like this – pointlessly, uselessly, alone and forgotten like he never even mattered. He doesn’t even have anything to distract himself with or to do to feel like he’s making a difference in his final hours. There’s just nothing but waiting to die, the pain getting harder and harder to bear as he feels his body slowly tear itself apart.

This is probably the absolute cruellest possible way Kaito could die from his illness, so much worse than how it happens in canon. (And, damn it, he hasn't even been to space…!)

Kaito would have no idea what's happening outside of the room he dies in, so he might be able to console himself to some extent by thinking that, once he’s gone, when Shuichi and Maki never see him again and realise they were tricked, they’ll be furious and will fight to avenge him. (Or, perhaps there’s still a chance, if they realise that something’s up soon enough, that they might be able to come for him in time and somehow save him after all…? It’s such a long shot – his death feels so close, dammit – but they’re his heroes, they’re amazing, so maybe—!)

But in reality... they wouldn't even know. They’d just obliviously leave him there to die, because Kaito would be right there with them, cured like Monokuma promised.

Kaito’s survival

That’d be the second horrible part of this – but not because this new Kaito who meets up with Shuichi and Maki all “cured” would be like some hollow imitation who isn’t truly Kaito at all. No; that’s not how it works. Flashback Lights create real people.

While I said at the beginning of this post that the one who died alone was “our” Kaito, that wasn't really quite fair of me. The other Kaito who's here now deserves to be thought of in exactly the same way. He would be our Kaito too, one hundred percent. Much like how Alter Ego Gonta was another Gonta, this is another instance of Kaito, separate from the one who died, but still him.

On the one hand, the new Kaito could have been made from a clone of the original Kaito’s body, so that he looks completely identical and nothing seems amiss at first. But on the other hand, he could be in an entirely different body – which is the version I’d rather lean towards, because that’d make things get awkward and painful a lot more quickly.

(If you want something to picture him as looking like: because it makes sense that Team Danganronpa would have picked a body that looked kind of similar and still fit his character, I’m imagining one of Kaito’s beta designs. I went for the one with poofy hair and eyebrows to rival Taka’s, specifically because he doesn’t look too similar to our Kaito, yet he nonetheless still has a very dorky Kaito energy to him. Meanwhile, his clothes would presumably be exactly the same. That and, despite the poofy hair, Kaito would totally grab some hairspray at the earliest opportunity and attempt to style his new hair into his trademark spiky upwardsness, just to try and look and feel a bit more like his usual self. The result would be, uh… something. It’d be something, all right.)

Some time after taking Kaito away to be cured, then, Monokuma presents Kaito’s miraculous recovery, brazenly handwaving the new body by claiming that extensive plastic surgery was totally necessary to save him. Maki and Shuichi would initially be all “?????? don’t mess with us, how the FUCK do you expect us to believe that this is Kaito”. Except... it is. His face and voice are completely different, but everything about how his eyes light up when he sees them, and the way he talks, and how quietly hurt he seems when they question if it's really him - it's still absolutely Kaito. And he appears to be just as genuinely confused as they are by the different body once they point it out to him and show him to a mirror.

Maybe they'd also confirm it by asking him things that only the real Kaito would know – and he knows all of it. Not just knows it, he obviously feels it, too. After asking him his favourite spaceship and seeing him visibly restrain himself from launching into a huge excited ramble about why that spaceship is so cool (exactly like he didn’t restrain himself from doing last time)… they can't deny it's really him.

The last thing Kaito remembers is being led away by Monokuma, and then he woke up like this; he must have been unconscious for whatever the hell was done to him in between. He and his friends end up concluding that Monokuma must have saved his life by… transferring his consciousness into a new body? Which seems more possible than they might have imagined considering how the Virtual World worked, now that they think about it, so maybe they'd be able to accept that.

(Is transferring a consciousness like that actually possible in this universe, though? Or does the Virtual World computer just create a virtual copy of them from their memories while the original one sleeps, and then Flashback Light their virtual self’s new memories back into their real body when they log out? That’d mean the virtual person would have to be deleted afterwards. It’d be painless and they’d never remember it, but in a sense, it’d be killing them.)

Kaito himself is pretty chill with it once he’s got over the initial shock. Sure, it’ll take some getting used to looking like this – he’s gonna have to grow himself a new goatee, to say nothing of the hair – but still, he’ll take this over dying any day. (He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to not be in pain.)

It'd still be super awkward for Shuichi and Maki, though, trying to adjust to Kaito looking and sounding completely different on the surface, constantly reminding themselves that this face and this voice is still Kaito. The two of them – especially Maki, who has a harder time trusting people instinctively – wouldn't quite be able to shake off the nagging possibility this could be some kind of impostor aligned with Monokuma who's just really really good at acting like Kaito. Of course they'd want to believe in him, because a different body is still infinitely better than losing him, but it wouldn’t quite come naturally.

Kaito, being Kaito, would very much pick up on the signs that his sidekicks are still a little subconsciously suspicious of him. It’d sting, but he wouldn't bring it up. Kaito's always fine! Now that he's healthy again, he’s got absolutely nothing to worry about! …which is to say, he doesn't want to go admitting to his new worries, not when doing so would be giving them even more reasons to feel like he's not quite Kaito and secretly not really want him around.

Kaito’s existence

But just when Shuichi and Maki have started to really get used to Kaito’s new body and things are beginning to feel somewhat normal between them again, everything would come out during the equivalent of trial 6.

As Shuichi figures out what Flashback Lights really do and Tsumugi starts trying to make everyone despair over how “fictional” they all are, Kaito, because he’s Kaito, would be having none of her bullshit. (However, I’ll keep this part brief here since I’m hopefully going to do a regular trial-6-with-Kaito AU at some point that should really be the place I expand on this properly.)

Sure, learning that they’re “characters” created from fake memories when the killing game began is kind of a lot to take in, but it doesn’t change the reality of who they are right now. The only thing that matters is what they want to believe, and they obviously want to believe that they’re real, just like they always have! Hell, their pasts being fiction is great news in Maki Roll’s case – she never really killed anyone, and she’ll never have to!

And Tsumugi’s claims that nothing matters because it was all “fiction” for entertainment are even more bullshit. Their pasts may be made up, but the entire killing game really happened. All those people really died. Every bit of the pain and suffering they and their friends went through in it was absolutely real.

But as he’s saying this part, Tsumugi turns to Kaito with a scathing grin. “How would you know? You weren’t even there.”

Before anyone can question what she means by this, she turns on another video – and this one’s not an audition tape. There were Nanokumas in the room where the original Kaito died. His final hours were recorded, as proof that Kaito is dead.

They wouldn’t watch the entire thing – he was in there for something like twenty-four hours – but she could have put together a “highlights reel”, some of the moments where Kaito couldn’t help but express exactly how lost and scared and desperate he felt. And of course it’d culminate in the moment of his death, just to hammer it home and make sure they know that it’s far too late to save him.

As Shuichi and Maki are reeling in horror from the suffering Kaito went through and the fact that they let that happen to him, Tsumugi goes for the decisive blow. She explains how the new Kaito came to be here, calling him a “fake”, an “imitation” who “tricked” them while they left the real Kaito to die.

And… Kaito kind of starts to believe it.

…See, one of the reasons this scenario really grabbed my interest (other than the prospect of Kaito dying scared and helpless and alone while also not being gone from the story afterwards) was that until now I didn’t think it was possible to give Kaito existential issues. He just has too much conviction in who he is. Under regular trial 6 circumstances, the reveals about Flashback Lights and his backstory being fake memories would barely faze him at all.

His memories are fake and all those things in his past never really happened? Okay, so he’s kind of shaken to realise his grandparents and fellow astronaut trainees don’t exist – but in that case, if none of the people in his memories are real, then the only person those memories matter to is himself. And if he feels like they were real, they might as well have been, at least in terms of the person he is now because of them. Oh, but the person he is now isn’t real, because the “real” Kaito is that murder-happy asshole in the audition video? Well, no, that dumbass was just somebody else, duh. Maybe he had the same body and possibly even the same name, but that doesn’t matter. The real Kaito, the one and only Luminary of the Stars, is right here! That's who he wants to believe he is, so it's who he is, dammit. End of discussion.

But in this situation… the real Kaito was undeniably the one who died alone in that room. Not him. His memories might feel real, but he doesn’t have the right to feel like those events happened to him, not when the memories belong to somebody else – someone who actually experienced all those things, whose friends that he experienced it all with are right here. It’s like he’s just stealing those memories, stealing that identity, stealing Kaito’s entire life. That’s not fair.

He still wants to be Kaito; he’s never gonna want to be anyone else, but… there’s no way he deserves to decide that, does he? Not when the real Kaito died, and Kaito’s sidekicks are still here and grieving for him. Knowing that, and with Maki Roll and Shuichi giving him these hurt, horrified looks that say You're not Kaito… maybe he really isn't.

(But Kaito is the only person he wants to or even knows how to be. So if he's not Kaito, then… who the hell even is he?)

Kaito’s friends

With Kaito stunned into speechlessness, and Shuichi and Maki shaken from the undeniable demonstration of how easy it is to just fake an entire person, leaving them also questioning how real they really are despite Kaito’s earlier efforts, it seems like Tsumugi’s succeeded in making everyone despair.

(at this point Keebo is supposed to barge in with his hope nonsense, but hey, how about we don’t have that clogging this up when I’m trying to tell an interesting story here)

But after a little while of none of the others having it in themselves to protest Tsumugi’s claims, Kaito (or, well, someone who once mistakenly went by that name; it doesn’t matter now) speaks up – hesitantly, because he still isn’t sure he really deserves to. “Hey, c’mon, Shuichi… This isn’t like you. You can’t just give up like this.”

(He resists the instinct to add, “You’re my sidekick,” because no, he’s not.)

It doesn’t matter about him, but Shuichi’s still absolutely real. He’s Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective who’s gonna save everyone, right? Never mind what Tsumugi says – that’s who he wants to be, who he’s always been trying so hard to be, so that’s who he is. And if that’s the case, then he can’t let something like this get him down!

“I guess this doesn’t mean much coming from me, but… I believe in you. For real.”

Shuichi stares at him in dawning realisation. This is… exactly the kind of thing Kaito would say to encourage him at a time like this. Especially the way he’s selflessly helping someone else even though he’s the one who’s got to be suffering the most right now. He… really is Kaito, isn’t he?

Kaito doesn’t meet his eye, muttering that that’s not really for him to decide. But… if Shuichi and Maki Roll want him to be Kaito, then – he glances at Shuichi hopefully – then maybe…?

Shuichi firmly tells him that no, that’s wrong. Kaito was just asserting that Shuichi and Maki and everyone else here get to decide who they want to be, so why should it be any different for him? If he wants to be Kaito, then Shuichi’s with him all the way. And Maki feels the same, right?

Maki puts in, slowly, like she’s still figuring this out as she speaks, that she’s been thinking hard about things since he pointed out that this means she never really killed anyone. It’s true that it’s a relief to know that nobody ever died because of her, but… she still feels like she killed all those people. It still hurts, because all of those memories feel real to her.  So in that sense, it’s like she might as well have actually gone through all that hell.

Then… it must be the same for him, right? Even if it wasn’t really him who trained with them and supported them, he feels like it was, doesn’t he? So… he might as well be the same Kaito. If her feelings matter even if they came from fake memories, then so do his.

Hearing both their words to him, Kaito’s face gradually lights up into a huge, somewhat desperate grin. Of course he wants to be Kaito; there’s nobody else he’d rather be! And, Shuichi and Maki Roll, they… they still wanna be his sidekicks, right?

Of course they do. Shuichi and Maki were pretty shaken by the initial shock of seeing Kaito’s death and realising where the Kaito standing in front of them came from, to the point that their kneejerk reactions in that moment might have made him feel like they didn’t see him as Kaito or want him around. But having a little bit of time to process it and reflect on it, and seeing how badly Kaito was hurting from thinking this is how they feel about him… there’s no way that’d be what they settle on. They’re his friends – and they can’t bear to lose him twice.

Maybe they messed up in the sense that they let Kaito die on his end, but they also simultaneously didn't lose Kaito on their end. This person who's here for them right now is still him, and none of what happened to the other Kaito is his fault. How could they just throw away this second chance? They’re still going to need Kaito’s support – and this Kaito needs them, too, more than ever. It’s awful that they failed Kaito once, but they can at least make sure to never fail him again.

(Kaito tells them firmly that no, they didn’t fail him. There’s no way Kaito would have ever thought that, no matter how afraid he was at the end.)

Epilogue

After escaping and settling into the outside world, as the survivors put together a gravesite for the friends from their game who didn't make it, they make sure there's a grave there for Kaito as well. Kaito, Shuichi and Maki visit it from time to time. It only seems right to do so.

The other Kaito, the one who died scared and alone, would have been happy to know that this’d be how it ended, Kaito reflects: to know that he still gets to live on, in a way, and keep being there for his sidekicks. That he didn't just die useless and forgotten. He's certain of it - because he's Kaito, too.

  [part 2 to this post - because I had another fun idea that branches off partway through this one - here!]

[artnerd1123]

Among Us: CR3WM8TS

New Transfer

——————————————

The start of a mission is always simple enough...

Among Us archive/askblog Fic chapters post

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First chapter of an among us fic i’m writing! It’s like, really really short, but it was still fun to write. Gotta establish my writing patterns n all that. Hoping to get into more proper action in the next chapter. Here’s this one tho :3

                                                     ===+===+===

Mission Log 1

Ship Model: SKELD D34-H120 Designation: SUPPLY TRANSPORT, EXPLORATION AND DOCUMENTATION OF SECTOR G PLANETS Crewmate Count: 9 Crewmate Colors: DARK GREEN, WHITE, PURPLE, DARK BLUE, YELLOW, RED, LIME, BLACK, PINK - NEW

Incoming Transfer File: Full Name: Bonnie Evelynn Ambrosia Alias(es): Bunbun, Bun Pronouns: SHE/HER Age: 24 SEY (Standard Earth Years) Home Planet: PARAMOUR - SECTOR B Species: COLONY HUMAN - SECTOR B Medical Records: UP TO DATE Experience: 3 SEY SPACE TRAVEL EXP, 4 SEY SPACE ACADEMICS, 14 SEY PLANETARY ACADEMICS Role: ELECTRICIAN, JANITOR, TECH/SOFTWARE SUPPORT Recommendation: HIGH Suit: PINK Backup Suit: ORANGE Notes: extremely reliable, displays quick wit and many helpful behaviors, such as- updating ship software quickly and efficiently, finishing tasks quickly, frequenting security once tasks finished. Tends to be shy until comfortable on a ship. Displays extreme readiness to skip votes and hesitance to vote crewmates out unless proper evidence presented. 

===+===+===

Another month, another transfer. That’s how life had been since Bunbun gotten out of the academy. It’s not that she wasn’t trying to get along with whatever crew she was placed with. Quite the opposite, in fact. She might be nervous around every stranger she meets, but her careful monitoring of crewmate activity had saved more than one ship from disaster. Yet, every month, she’d have to say goodbye to any friends she’d made, and start all over with a new crew. She wondered if said “disasters” were why they were transferring people so often. To get people away from traumatic memories, perhaps? Then again, all the SKELDs looked the same. HQ wasn’t known for transferring crewmates between ship models if they were unfamiliar with the layout. She wondered if it was a good idea to keep crewmates so unfamiliar with each other, too. Wouldn’t it be better to learn your crew’s habits? To spend more time together? Wouldn’t it be easier to pick out inconsistency, rather than relying on shot-in-the-dark accusations? Wouldn’t the impostor stick out like a sore thumb? Or would it just give it more time to adapt? But, in the long run, what did she know? She was just the maintenance crewmate. She was just glad she’d left every ship breathing. Not every electrician was that lucky.

Bunbun eyed the docking port as she stood before it. Everything seemed properly hooked up. Nothing was out of place. The ship managed to look almost new, from what she could see. She heaved a sigh, hefting a bag over her shoulder, and checking that her emergency pack was attached. She would’ve liked to adjust her bandanna, too, but her fingers just brushed against the top of her pink helmet. That was the thing about boarding a new ship. No matter how well sealed a port was, one could never be too careful. So, full suit it is. Even if it could be a little inconvenient. The docking door opened with a couple clanks, the hiss of pressurized air greeting her before the captain could. Their dark green suit looked weathered, the star-shaped patch on their suit nearly faded gray with solar exposure. She could see bits of their face peeking through the usual visor glare. What she saw were the telltale signs of extended space travel exposure; their coiled hair had a fine dusting of white, their dark skin had wrinkled stripes, their deep brown eyes seemed just a bit sunken in their sockets. Despite all this, the captain’s smile was warm. They gave Bunbun a rather jaunty wave on their way over. She waved back shyly. “Hello there! I’m Captain Groud. Glad to have you aboard, Miss Ambrosia!” captain Groud hummed. They held out their hand, and she took it, giving it a gentle shake. “Th-thank you! I’m Bunbun. I’m, um, glad you requested me,” she replied softly, “Hopefully I can, um, stay for awhile. I-I didn’t realize how much transferring a crewmate goes through before I got out of school.” “Yeah, space work really throws you all over,” Groud chuckled, shaking their head. “But I promise you’ll have some good work on ol’ D34.” They glanced back at the ship fondly. “She might be an older model, but she’s served us well.” “I’d... hope so…?” Bunbun blinked. “It, um, looks like a very nice ship.” She tried for a polite smile. It probably didn’t come out right, seeing as she’d realized why this particular ship wanted her so badly. They’re probably decades behind on their software updates, she sighed internally. But she gave her head a little shake. Just means there’s plenty of work to do! I can handle that. “So, you ready to climb aboard? Got all your things?” Ground asked. Bunbun nodded, and they grinned. Stepping back, they made a sweeping gesture towards the gangplank. “Step right up, Bunbun! Let’s introduce you to the rest of the crew!” “E-eheheh, y-yeah,” Bunbun twittered. Shifting her bag, she slowly plodded onto the ship. She only stopped once, to gently knock her helmet against the entrance. For luck, of course. Here’s to hoping it’s a successful new assignment. 

[rogueariadne]

To Have A Villain’s Quirk

EIGHTEEN: CRASHING DOWN

Song: All On Fire - Coheed and Cambria

When she joined the girls again, they had asked about her jacket. Kaida didn't want to rat Bakugo out for having feelings, knowing how her classmates could get, and just said she got a little cold. Even though they were told to have fun, she didn't know how everyone else felt, but she couldn't relax that much knowing she was going to be in the tournament. Kaida knew she wouldn't really have to come up with a strategy for fighting Ashido, as mean as that sounds, so, she tried to just calm her nerves by being around the girls. They never failed to make her feel safe. Sure, she wanted to be ready for anything. And before she knew it, the finals began.

Kaida sat in the locker room, having just changed out of the cheerleader uniform into her gym clothes, letting her hair down to release some pressure. She could already hear Present Mic getting everyone pumped up, but she couldn't stop her body from trembling with nervousness. She wasn't first up, and that was okay, she had more time to calm down. She jumped when she heard her phone ringing from her locker, only noticing it was hers from the ringtone for her dad. She pushed herself up, slowly taking it from the little cubby, looking at the picture that popped up. It comforted her. After another ring, she answered it.

"Hey dad-"

"Kaida, don't ever wear something like that again, especially on TV. I can't have you dressing like that, you're still supposed to be my little girl. The one that was too afraid to even dress up in Halloween costumes because they were too scary.. You're growing up too fast-!" She could hear her father practically sobbing before there was a loud smack on the other end.

"Oh, sweetie, don't mind your father. You know how he gets." Her mothers voice came through, making her laugh. "You looked so confident out there.. It's a good change. But.. Don't dress like that too much, okay? You're still only fifteen.."

"For only a few more months."

"I know, I know. Anyways, that's not why we were calling. We just wanted to tell you how proud we are of you.. You're doing so well, but please be careful.. I know you want to be a hero but if something happens and you don't feel right there anymore, don't worry if you need to transfer to a normal school. You'll still be our hero." Don't worry if she has to transfer? If something happens? Did her mother really not have that much faith in her? There was a pause, as if her mother was waiting for her to say something, when actuality it was Takeshi staring Kaori down for saying such a thing. The woman sighed before continuing. "We just.. love you so much. We don't want you to get hurt."

"...Yeah, I get it.. I gotta go. My friends match is up. I'll talk to you later." Before Kaori could say another word, Kaida had hung up, throwing the phone back into her locker and dragging herself to the stadiums. Well, she felt like absolute shit.

*

"Why. The Hell. Would you say that to her?" Takeshi stared at his wife, teeth clenched after hearing the words she pointed at their daughter. She lowered the phone from her ear, gently setting it on the counter while keeping her back turned to the other.

"Those schools are dangerous, the sports festival is dangerous. We already almost lost her once, I don't think my heart would be able to take it if something else happened to her."

"I thought you were proud that she got into that school?"

"I am. I'd just wish she had gone to a normal school. Her choice is her own. All I'm saying is that, instead of getting wrapped up in something too big for her, for any of us, that maybe she should really take a moment to wonder if she's already where she belongs. With us."

"Kaori, I understand you're trying to protect her, but she needs to be able to do things on her own. You won't always be there." Her hand gripped the counter, the marble softly screeching beneath her fingers before she whipped herself around with fiery eyes.

"I'm the one who's been here. You're the one who's been off gallivanting over in the states. You haven't been here for her at all. You don't know what she has been doing, going through to get to where she's trying to be. Where were you for the past few birthdays? The days she stayed holed up in her room because of kids at her school? When she finally gained a friend in Izuku, and the happiness that she had? When she tried to fight a villain off with him to save another boy in her class, who was actually Bakugo, believe it or not." She took a few steps forward, staring the male ghoul down as she a tail raised from her back, snaking around her waist to point at him. "I don't want to hear you saying that I won't be here for her when you can't even say you have been."

"From what I've heard, she didn't talk to you, and you didn't really talk to her, until that villain incident. And don't hold me being overseas against me. It was for my job. I've been the one earning money for this family and send it over to you so you can take care of yourself and Kaida. I've done all of that for my family. You're only just now acting like a mother. After what happened when she was five, you distanced yourself. As if you couldn't bear to be around her. You called her a monster for fuck's sake! Your own daughter!" Kaori's eyes widened as he rose his voice at her, dark veins slithering from his eyes and down his cheeks with each word. "So, the one time she calls you mom, and acknowledges you, you can just suddenly forget everything? I want to know what happened to the woman I married. Who was sweet, and loving. I want her back. Not this impostor." All was quiet as the black haired woman lowered her head.

"..You know. I've had just about enough of you." The front door opened, catching her husbands attention but just long enough for her do what she needed to do.

*

Kaida shuffled through the halls to catch the tail end of Midoriya's fight, stopping just before 1-A's seating area. She leaned against the wall and watched the fight end with the green haired boy sending Shinso out of bounds. She saw that Midoriya was already hurt, making her shake her head at his recklessness. She wanted to sit there with her friends, to cheer the boy on.. but she just didn't feel up to it. Todoroki and Sero's match was up next. She didn't talk to them much so maybe she could just sit by herself for a while until her match.

She found one of the empty waiting rooms, gently closing the door behind her as she went to sit down at one of the tables. Letting down her hair, she ran a hand through it as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel her eyes start burning but she pushed the tears back, taking a shaky breath. She couldn't do this right now, she had a match she had to win. She needed to get herself out of her head but as the minutes passed, she just spiraled deeper down in her thoughts. Before she knew it, her face and the table in front of her were covered in years, her hand over her mouth to muffle any sounds that wanted to escape.

Just when she was finally happy with herself, her life.. something always went wrong. She got too comfortable, that's what always happened. She didn't actually know how much time passed until they announced the ending of Iida's match against the support girl. She wiped her face as best as she could, feeling like her body was numb. Kaida shuffled her way towards the arena, wiping at her face once again as Mic's face rang through the stadium. "Get ready for this next match between best friends! Both students from Class 1-A! The acidic, pink-skinned creature, Mina Ashido! Versus! The virago herself! Kaida Hiyama!"

Walking out into the open area, she almost hissed at the bright sunlight, eyes quickly adjusting as she saw her friend on the other side of the ring. She could see all of the eyes, hear all of the loud noises, the cheering, the screaming. The cameras were pointed at the both of them, and she just wanted to run away. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be at home, in bed. Where she was safe. She didn't want to fight. She just wanted to cry. No.. she didn't want to feel anything. She could forfeit.. yeah. That sounded like a good idea-

"Kaida! Don't go easy on me, okay?" Mina called to her, once they were both on the ring and inside the bounds. She met her eyes across the ring before looking away, the others smile fading.

* Up in the stands, their whole class sat, waiting for the match to start as Mic announced their classmates. Some of them were watching the cameras, others were watching the two down below, others were talking. Katsuki's eyes narrowed as he looked at his friends face. It looked like he wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Hey.. is it just me or is there something wrong with Hiyama?" Jirou asked, Kaminari and Kirishima agreeing while Bakugo clenched his teeth. What was wrong with that idiot? Midoriya watched with his friends, frowning as he leaned forward, a worried expression on his face.

* As their battle began, Mina immediately rushed her, Kaida was still a little distracted and too slow to dodge the girl, being knocked back. Their class, and even Mina gasped. She hadn't expected to actually land a hit. Kaida was usually so quick, so strong, that not a lot could but her. Normally, Bakugo was one of the only ones who could land a hit. That was when everyone knew something was really off with her. The maroonette carefully pulled herself to her feet, a little dazed but still conscious. Mina just stood there, confused and worried.

"Ashido managed to get a kick in, but it looks like Hiyama didn't even bother to block it, let alone move! What's going on?!" Mic yelled, catching Kaida's attention for a moment before Mina hesitantly came at her again. This time, Kaida tried to dodge but got hit again. She stumbled back but was caught, just before she was out of bounds. "What's this?! Ashido stopped Hiyama from going out of bounds!"

"Kai.. what are you doing?" The girl in question turned her head away, bangs covering her eyes. Mina's expression grew more upset, twisting her hand in the girls jacket. "You're not supposed to lose. I don't know what's gotten into you but you're the one who has to get further than this." No response came from the girl and Mina huffed, frustrated.

SLAP!!

A hush fell over the crowd as everyone was locked intensely on the two girls. Kaida's eyes widened as she slowly met the others, raising a hand to her cheek. "You promised me you wouldn't hold back, what happened to throwing me out of bounds, huh? I'm not just gonna walk out, Kai. This is as far as I go, so snap out of it and fight me." She paused for a moment, giving a small smile. "..And we can talk about what's bothering you later. Okay?"

She stared at the pinkette before nodding, the corners of her lips twitching up a bit. "Okay.." Her voice sounded so small, and it broke Mina's heart to hear it like that. But the answer was enough for her to drop the girls jacket and take a few steps back.

"Okay, let's go!" Mina grinned as Kaida regained her composure, taking a deep breath as she put one foot behind her.

"Looks like Ashido seemed to pull Hiyama out of whatever trance she was in and they're now ready to fight for real!"

The crowd began cheering the moment Kaida's Rinkaku was released, three tails flaring up behind her. Mina smirked and acid was flung towards her opponent, Kaida dodging a little quicker this time as the acid covered the area in front of her. She tried to get behind the other to take her out but Mina was faster, sliding around the girl with a grin. Kaida felt some acid fall on one of the tails, starting to burn it away. She hissed and jumped after the other, taking one tail to wrap around her waist. Mina, knowing she was caught, just smiled with a nod and Kaida nodded back, tossing her out of bounds.

"Ashido is out of bounds! Hiyama wins!" As soon as Midnight called it, Kaida rose her head to look at the sky before jogging after the pinkette, who was slowly pulling herself to her feet. Kaida helped her stand and Mina gave her a one shoulder hug.

"Congrats, Kai! You deserved it!" She didn't say anything but set her head on her shoulder as they both walked out. As they announced the next match between Tokoyami and Yaoyorozu, the two girls found their way to an empty waiting room. Just before they entered the room, footstep came jogging behind them.

"Hey, are you guys okay?" Kaida and Mina turned to look at their violet haired friend, the girl panting a little as she caught up with them. She was mostly looking at Kaida, her taking a step forward. "Are you okay, Hiyama?" The girl was silent as the other two looked at her and she felt her eyes starting to prick.

"Kaida..?"

"C-can we sit down.. please? I-I just need to grab my phone first." They quickly nodded and let her grab her things from the changing room before leading her into a vacant waiting room, the trio taking a seat on one of the couches. Jirou took one of her hands while Mina kept her arm around her shoulders.

"Okay, now what's going on?"

*

"Kaida.. I know that you're busy with the tournament but.. your father.." There were sobs from the other side of the phone. "There was an accident.. Kaida, I'm so sorry.. Please call me when you can, okay? If you go through with the rest of the tournament, just know that you'll be making your father so proud. I..I love you so much Kai, and I know he loved you so much. You were his Chimera, after all."

The message ended and hot tears cascaded down the maroonette's face, dropping her phone into her lap. She didn't hear the door open or her two friends talk to the group that entered the room. She couldn't see the look on Bakugo's face as he knelt in front of her, yelling at and shaking the girl. But nothing could get through to her.

Her whole world was crashing down.

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[calligraphist-artemisia]

Across Time and Space (Chapter 14)

Summary: Sequel to I’ll Take Her Place.  Slav is showing off a piece of experimental equipment, when it malfunctions and blasts Katie and Keithir to another universe. At the same time, it drags Pidge and Keith over into theirs, effectively swapping places. With their fate resting in the hands of Slav, will they be able to get back home? Or are they stuck to live the rest of their lives in the wrong universe?

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the username “kishirokitsune”.

--

I would say, “Here’s the final chapter”, but actually there is one more little chapter after this one. (Which will be posted in a few days.)

This is the last chapter to vote in the poll on what I’ll write next, and I’ll be closing it down the day I post the final chapter. ( https://forms.gle/cMMRtt9U7whewbdn9 )

Chapter 14

Keith didn't remember going to bed, but that was where he woke up, still dressed in the clothing given to him by the other Allura. He sat up and stretched, before glancing at the clock on his bedside table, curious to see how much time had passed.

“Lunchtime,” he said to himself at the same time as his stomach growled. He swung himself out of bed, surprised that a few hours of sleep had been enough to replenish the energy sapped by their journey home, and set off to check on Pidge.

Maybe it wasn't so weird. He was knocked out by the first trip and there was no telling how long that lasted. Or maybe it was because he was unconscious the first time that he didn't need to sleep.

Pidge would know the answer better than he did.

She answered her door, looking more awake than he expected, still wearing the cute dress and boots. She looked surprised to see him, but quickly recovered.

“I've been trying to think of a good way to tell the others about everything, but honestly? I... I don't know,” Pidge admitted, jumping straight into their biggest dilemma. “I thought we'd come home and everything would fall into place, but now that we're here it's even harder. I can't even look at him!”

Alarmed, Keith gently backed her into her room so they would have more privacy to talk. Just because he didn't see anyone else around, didn't mean there was no one there.

“I know what you mean. Every time I look at him, all I can think about is Shiro, all alone and not knowing if he'll ever get out. How many missions have been compromised because of him? How many lives put in danger?” Keith clenched his hands, staring hard at a spot on the floor.

“Keith...” Pidge slowly took his hand, keeping her movements simple. “I'm sorry. I just got so anxious thinking about it all. This isn't something we've had to deal with more and I'm not sure what to do, but I meant it when I said we'd figured this out.” She paused and took a deep breath, continuing to hold his hand. “We need to take this step-by-step. So first, we need to tell the others.”

“We'll need someone to distract... Shiro so he doesn't overhear,” Keith said, struggling to call the impostor by Shiro's name. He needed to though, so he wouldn't raise suspicion when they needed to talk to him.

Pidge nodded. “It'll have to be someone who makes sense. Someone who doesn't need to be told what's going on yet. So we start with who needs to know. Allura, obviously.”

“The rest of the team. Hunk, Lance, and Coran should all know what's going on. Kolivan should probably be told why we're taking a step away from the war,” Keith said.

“Matt can do it.”

“Are you sure? My dad could also...” Keith trailed off as Pidge shook her head.

“Matt just makes the best sense, so he distracts him while we tell the others. What then? It's too risky to let him know about Oriande, but he'll ask questions if we take off for an unknown location.”

“I've been thinking about that,” Keith said slowly. “Once we're done talking to the others, we should see what happens when we detach his arm. If he lets us near it.”

“You mean if he lets me near it,” Pidge corrected.

Keith frowned, hating the idea of putting her directly in danger, but what were their options? If not Pidge, then it'd have to be Hunk or maybe Allura. Hunk didn't need to be put under that kind of pressure; it'd be too much for him to handle all at once. And they couldn't take the risk of Allura getting hurt.

It had to be Pidge.

She squeezed his hand. “You'll be there with me, right? Just in case?”

“Every step of the way,” Keith promised, meaning it with all of his heart.

Gathering everyone together for a meeting was the easy part. As was asking Matt to distract Shiro for them. Convincing them that it was best if they didn't wait for Shiro to arrive? That was the hard part.

They wasted precious minutes trying to convince them that they didn't need to wait for Shiro, and then finally Keith was able to explain what he learned during his visit to the Astral Plane. Pidge helped calm things down after the initial explosion of surprise and once Keith was finished, she helped detail their plan.

“This is insane!” Lance exclaimed. “Shiro isn't really Shiro, he's some kind of... clone? Or whatever?”

“I'm not lying,” Keith snapped.

“And if you hadn't seen him for yourself, you would find this hard to believe as well,” Allura pointed out. “It's not that we don't trust that you're telling the truth, it's just difficult to wrap our minds around it. Can we be sure that he means to do us harm?”

Pidge crossed her arms over her chest. “Why else would the Galra clone him?”

Allura didn't have an answer to that.

“If we remove his arm, we'll know for sure what we're dealing with. Either it'll free his clone from Galra control, or...” Pidge hesitated. “Or it could be what houses Shiro's memories and he'll just... collapse. Like an empty shell.”

“In that case, we'll need a cryo-pod on standby. Though I have to admit, I'm curious as to how we'll get Shiro back into his body. Can the Black Lion do something like that?” Coran asked.

“Actually, that's where Allura comes in,” Keith said, looking to Pidge for help.

Pidge glanced over at him and nodded, before reaching into her pocket and taking out a smooth stone. She held it out for Allura to take. “This is from the other Allura,” she said, purposefully omitting Honerva's name. “She called it a compass stone and told us it's the key to something called Oriande.”

Allura frowned as she accepted the stone. “But it's only a legend; A bedtime story my father used to tell me. It doesn't actually exist.”

Coran leaned over for a better look, his expression one of awe. “Perhaps there's more truth to it than we thought.”

“But how will it help? Oriande is said to be the birthplace of Altean alchemy, not... I'm not sure what to call this. Soul transference?” Allura ran her hand over the stone, which began to glow beneath her touch. She gasped in surprise, lifting it out away from her as a star map shimmered into view, surrounding her to show an area of space none of them were familiar with.

“That's the Patrulian Zone,” Kolivan spoke up. He went on to explain before anyone could ask what or where that was. “It's classified as a highly dangerous area of space. No ship that has ever ventured there has been able to return.”

“Like the Bermuda Triangle?” Lance asked.

“What is the Bermuda Triangle?”

“Yes, that's basically what it is,” Pidge said, intervening before the entire conversation could be derailed. “Look, the other Allura said it will allow you to set things right with Shiro and I believe her. She also has another message: Take someone you trust, with all of your heart.”

“Someone I trust,” Allura mused with a frown.

Pidge nodded. “The way it sounds is that only you and one another can go in safely. The rest of us will have to stay back and wait for you.”

Keith stayed quiet, ready to back up Pidge if there was any disagreement on how to proceed, but no one seemed to have an argument against going to Oriande, or even against removing Shiro's prosthetic arm. There was still more to work out, but the hardest part – telling them about Shiro – was behind them.

He breathed in, his anxiety lessening.

Everything was going to be okay.

It was honestly bizarre, being around the clone and knowing he wasn't really Shiro. His mannerisms, his smile when he made a joke that he found funny or clever, the fondness in his voice when he greeted them – it was all the same.

No wonder they hadn't noticed.

It made what they were doing even harder. Keith wasn't sure he'd ever be able to look at Shiro again without feeling some form of guilt, but it had to be done. They had to be sure.

He was a little in awe of Pidge as he watched her act excited about taking off the clone's arm. She babbled on about learning stuff in the other reality and “wouldn't it be great to have an arm not made by an evil empire?” as she guided him to a chair.

“I suppose it would be nice,” Shiro agreed, though there was some confusion in his voice. “Are you sure it's a good idea? I mean, it has been useful to us and you and Hunk have both confirmed that it's safe for me to use.”

“Except that having it may have been what caused you to get captured by the Galra a second time. If I remove it, I'll be able to run a deep scan and you won't have to sit still until it's done. There could be more secrets, like the hidden coordinates that Ulaz left, and this is how we'll find out,” Pidge argued pleasantly. “If you really want to keep it, I'll give it back once I'm done.”

Shiro nodded as he got comfortable in the chair. “I have grown a little fond of it.”

Keith walked over to stand by the clone, ready to play his role of the supportive friend. If anything went sideways, it left him in prime position to respond. “Will it hurt?”

Pidge glanced up at him. “I'm not sure. We never did determine whether its connected through nerve endings or through some kind of quintessence-based neural link, but detaching it shouldn't cause pain. Reconnecting it... well, that may be a different story. Ready, Shiro?”

Shiro gave one short nod. “I'm ready.”

Keith unintentionally held his breath, watching as Pidge opened the panel on Shiro's upper arm. She took a moment to look it over and then cautiously began the process of releasing the connections, glancing up to Shiro's face for any sign of discomfort after each one.

“Still okay?” she asked.

“Feels strange, but it doesn't hurt.”

“Good.”

Pidge carried on with her work, slow and methodical, and just when Keith started to think they were in the clear, Shiro's face went slack, his eyes unfocused.

Keith moved purely on instinct, shoving Pidge away in the nick of time. He unsheathed his blade and lifted it to block Shiro's hand as he reached for Pidge. They clashed, rough and violent, and Keith trembled as he used all of his strength to try and shove Shiro away. His stomach twisted, unnerved by the malevolence in the clone's eyes.

“Shiro, you don't want to do this!” he yelled, hoping there was some part of the clone – the part who truly believed he was Shiro – who could still hear him.

“You're wrong,” growled the clone. “I've wanted to do this for a long time. Did you really think I enjoyed being around you? Why do you think we let you go running off with the Blade of Marmora? None of us wanted you here.”

Keith faltered, the words biting into his carefully crafted armor.

The clone bore down on him, easily taking advantage of the opening left for him. “We were glad to see you leave.”

“Keith.” Pidge's voice was quiet and fearful, but the reminder that she was behind him, relying on him to help set things right, gave him the strength to push back.

He could remember the tears in her eyes that day. The surprising sadness in Lance's voice. Hunk sobbing as he went in for a hug. Allura's concerned gaze. Coran, making no effort to conceal his emotions. And he knew it wasn't really Shiro, but he'd still checked in and supported him the way the real one always had.

The clone was lying.

The others did want him around.

His dad traveled from another reality because he wanted to be there for him! And Lance never pulled any punches when it came to his feelings (particularly in regards to Keith), so when he spoke of missing him, it was the truth.

“...anyone would be lucky to have you as their roommate. Seriously, Keith. I wasn't lying when I said this has been fun.”

Keith grit his teeth, straining to keep the clone's glowing hand away from his skin. “The real Shiro would never say something like that. A thought like that would never even cross his mind! And that's why I know, you're nothing more than a shallow imitation.”

The clone snarled and threw a punch with his left hand, knocking Keith aside before descending on Pidge, who scurried backwards in fright. Keith rolled to his feet, fully prepared to dive in and clash with the clone again to protect Pidge, but she surprised him by changing course, spinning to her feet and dashing forward. She dropped into a slide and as she raised one hand towards the clone's open chest, Keith realized she had her bayard.

The clone went down with an agonized shout and Keith swiftly pinned him to the floor, making sure to give Pidge ample space to get to the prosthetic arm and finish her task. Within seconds, there was a heavy clunk as the arm popped free of its socket and fell to the floor.

The clone's body went still.

Pidge's hands trembled as she lowered them to her lap, her bayard discarded next to her. Keith hastened to her side and pulled her into his arms.

“I... I can't believe...”

“You did what you needed to. We both did,” Keith reminded her. “Now we keep going with our plan. Shiro is counting on us.”

“You're right,” Pidge murmured, closing her eyes and resting her head on Keith's shoulder. “Those things he said to you... they aren't true. We all missed you.”

“I missed you guys too.”

Nothing more needed to be said.

ALTEA – CASTLE OF LIONS

Katie almost expected to be swept up into a Welcome Back party the moment she and Keithir returned, but the small group waiting for them was even better, especially considering the exhaustion that overtook them both. Even in the hours after, the most that was mentioned was a big family dinner once they were settled back in.

Before then, there was one important matter they needed to settle.

Ulaz hugged them when they arrived at his medical station. “It's good to see you both. I suppose you're here to make sure your journey did not cause any adverse effects?”

“It is something we're worried about,” Katie agreed, leaning back against Keithir for comfort.

Ulaz hummed in understanding and stepped away to gather the proper tools. It didn't take but a few ticks, as he'd prepared ahead of time for their visit. “Take a seat, Katie.”

He took her blood first, a tiny pinprick which barely hurt, and slotted it into a nearby machine to let it run its tests. Then, with a biometric wand scanner, checked her over from head to toe, focusing the longest over her middle.

Ulaz let her up while he checked over the diagnostics. “You're all clear. There's nothing I see that causes any concern, though you have lost a small amount of weight. How is your nausea?”

“Off and on,” Katie said with a shrug. “I'm still figuring out what's okay to eat and what smells trigger it the worst, but I can still keep down most food.”

“Not food goo,” Keithir teased.

Katie looked a little pale by the mere mention of it. “Coran isn't helping with dinner plans, is he? I'd rather not have everyone find out by puking at the sight of one of his concoctions.”

“That would be a question for Hunk and your mother. They are running the kitchen tonight,” Ulaz responded, gesturing for Keithir to take a seat next. “Any thoughts to how you will tell everyone?”

“A few. Right now we're still deciding on who to tell first. Our parents and Thace, of course, but Shiro will want a reason for why I can't go on any dangerous missions for a while,” Katie said.”It's just... it's a little early right now. I'm barely two months along.”

Ulaz didn't look up from his work. “Your cub is strong, Katie. I do not see any reason you should worry, but I will respect your caution and will continue to keep it a secret until you are ready.”

“Thank you, Ulaz,” Katie said, grateful for his support.

Ulaz inclined his head and then gave Keithir the all-clear as well, announcing with a smile that they were in perfect health.

From there, they went off to find Sendak, both eager to see Yorak and hold him in their arms once again.

OLKARION – CASTLE OF LIONS

“I can't believe he's been a clone the whole time,” Matt said, staring at Shiro's body in the cryo-pod. He could almost pretend that his friend was sleeping and not an empty shell. “Do you really think Allura can do it? Put him back into his body? Or this new body?”

“She's the only one who can,” Keith said from where he sat.

Pidge nodded in agreement. “The other Allura sounded sure that going to Oriande will give her the ability she needs to help Shiro, and I believe her. She wouldn't lie about that.”

“I still can't believe they're married in the other life,” Keith remarked.

Matt's gaze snapped to Keith, his jaw dropping in shock. “Wait, what?”

“It was a little surreal seeing the lives our alternate selves lead,” Pidge admitted, ignoring Matt's question. “I wish I'd asked them more about it, but we were so worried about getting back... I know mom and dad moved to Altea as part of some kind of Earth-Altea transfer program. You too, Matt. Mom had all kinds of new plants to study and talk about and I think you and dad were working on integrating Altean tech into Earth ships? I didn't catch much, except that the Galaxy Garrison's space exploration program has tripled in size and they can make it out to Kerberos in about a week instead of three months.”

“Wow,” Matt said, sounding dazed.

Pidge sobered up a little. “Speaking of dad, did you find anything while I was gone? Were there any bases or ships carrying intel on prisoners?”

Matt shook his head. “Nothing on that front, but I did get a lead that I need to tell you about. Katie told me that in her reality, Lotor was the one who held us captive, and she figured that he would know the most likely place he's being held.”

“Did he know?” Pidge asked, sitting up in interest.

“He gave me the name and location of a base and I passed that along to Kolivan to see if he knew anything about it. He's had Kr- one of the others help him look into it. I didn't want to say anything, because I don't know how much trust there is to it or if dad's even there. But if he is... I mean, I know this Oriande thing is really important, and I'd love to be there when Shiro wakes up, but if dad really is there, then I have to go.”

“And I'd have to choose...” Pidge murmured.

Silence permeated the air.

“Pidge, it's your choice,” Keith said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “All of us would understand if you want to go save your dad, and that includes Shiro. Do what you think is right for you.”

It was such a far cry from the start of their time together that Pidge couldn't help but tear up a little. He'd come a long way from the lonely boy who rode in on a red hoverbike to rescue his only friend.

How easy would it be, to go off with Matt and stage a rescue the way she'd dreamed of doing for so long?

The fact remained, she was being asked to choose between the two most important, most influential men in her life.

She needed a workaround. A way to look at the problem presented to her in a different way. There had to be something that would help her find the answer. Her dad or Shiro?

No, that wasn't the right question.

Who needed her there?

Her team, heading into unknown and dangerous territory?

Or Matt, backed up by a team of rebels and information cleared by the Blade of Marmora?

When she looked at it like that, the answer was clear.

Allura personally piloted the Castle of Lions into the Patrulian Zone, using the time to think about everything that happened in the course of one quintant. The most important thing was that Keith and Pidge made it back, and while the addition of Travis to the team was a surprise, it was a welcome one. (She tried not to get too jealous of Keith getting a second chance with his father, but those bitter thoughts kept creeping in.)

She breathed in deeply, checking the starmap, and slightly adjusted course. The Castle's sensors were picking up on a strange energy signature somewhere in the center of the zone, which Coran agreed was where they needed to go.

There was one other problem Allura had, and that was her lack of answer to the question: who would go with her to Oriande?

Her instructions were to pick someone she trusted, but how could she choose when she trusted each of the paladins? There had to be something more. Something she was missing. Had Pidge relayed the message word-for-word, or had she paraphrased?

“Take someone you trust,” she murmured to herself. Her gaze drifted to Coran, who busied himself at the center control, monitoring the ship and keeping an eye out for any more unusual readings.

She certainly trusted Coran. He was her father's oldest friend and had a large role in helping raise her. While his ideas were a little outrageous at times, there was no one else she relied on more.

If Shiro were an option, her decision would be made. As the leader of Voltron, he made the most sense, and aside from their brief hiccup at the start, they made a fantastic team. There were so many reasons why she trusted and looked up to him, but his sheer compassion for everyone was at the top of that list.

But Shiro wasn't an option. He was the reason she was going to Oriande.

Which left Keith as the current Black Paladin and leader of the team. While it was great to have him back and she knew she could count on him no matter what came their way, he didn't feel like the right fit for Oriande.

Perhaps Pidge, who would appreciate a trip in pursuit of knowledge, was a better choice? Hunk had also expressed interest in learning more about Altean culture, though his was more in regards to cuisine. She was hesitant to say either was the perfect choice.

Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine a day when she would consider going on a mission with just Lance, but there she was, contemplating exactly that. He'd become a true friend, unafraid to speak his mind (whereas Hunk often hesitated in fear of making anyone upset), but without the unthinking heat which often came from Pidge and Keith.

If the past movement had proven anything, it was that Lance was someone she could rely on. Someone she could be herself around without fear of judgement. Someone she genuinely enjoyed spending time with.

(And hadn't she entertained the idea of teaching him more about Altea?)

But was going to Oriande something he wanted to do?

None of them knew what to expect or why the other Allura said to only take one person with her. Would he be tested as well? Was there a test? She assumed there was, otherwise anyone could get in and learn the secrets.

What if she wasn't worthy?

“Uh, princess? We may have a slight problem,” Coran spoke up.

Allura snapped out of her thoughts, lowering her hands to slow the Castle. She was about to ask what was wrong, but words failed her as she saw exactly what had Coran worried.

A massive white hole loomed in the distance and around it, the bodies of numerous destroyed ships.

She eased the Castle to a stop, not wanting to get any closer or else risk them suffering the same fate. “I don't understand... Coran, are you sure we have the correct coordinates?”

“Yes, princess. The precise point in space that the compass stone pointed to is there, in the very center,” Coran said. He turned to her, worry in his eyes. “I could take another look, but there's something we have to consider – Oriande may not exist in our reality. Maybe it did once, but the existence of this white hole likely means it was destroyed long ago.”

Allura shook her head. “No, I refuse to believe that. I owe it to Shiro to try everything I can.”

“But, princess-”

“I'm calling the others to the bridge,” Allura interrupted. “We'll decide what to do together.”

That was what Shiro would want. A team decision.

She calmly made the call, asking everyone still on board the Castle to report to the bridge.

She had made her decision.

“Take someone you trust, with all of your heart.”

Waiting for Allura and Lance to return was one of the top five most nerve wracking moments of his life, just after Krolia's entire pregnancy with Keith. (Which had less to do with Krolia herself and everything to do with the panic of raising a half-alien child on a planet of people who would react with scorn and panic if they found out there really was intelligent life beyond their solar system.)

All contact with Allura and Lance was lost the moment they got near the white hole. Neither had sounded panicked leading up to that, so they had to trust that they were still alright.

Coran paced the bridge, pausing frequently to check for the faintest readings. He didn't speak and no one tried to start a conversation with him, each dealing with the situation in their own way.

Hunk sat and fidgeted with an old piece of Altean tech, either trying to figure out what it did or just using it as something to occupy his attention.

Pidge was at her station and had two screens pulled up to monitor. One was for communication with Matt and the other was set to help Coran scan for their missing teammates.

Keith had no distractions. He sat and did his best to find something even vaguely productive to do, but after a few minutes he leaned back to stare at the ceiling.

All Travis could do was stand quietly by.

Well, that wasn't true. There was one thing he could do, but that would mean disturbing the delicate tension of the bridge, and he wasn't entirely sure how Coran would react to that, as wound tight as he was.

Travis warred with himself for a few doboshes. It was something that needed to be said. Keith deserved to know his mother was alive and that she'd been on the Castle of Lions for a short while. He wanted his son to have time to prepare for meeting her instead of being dropped into it, which meant he'd have to tell him soon. Krolia had gone with Kolivan to help Matt and the rebels find Sam and would rejoin them once both missions were complete.

There would be too much excitement once Allura and Lance returned. Travis would have to take the chance while he had it.

He moved as quietly as he could, making his way over to Keith and tapping him on the shoulder. He gestured towards the door, and though it took Keith a moment to understand, he soon stood and followed his dad out into the hall, completely unaware of Pidge's curious gaze on his back.

“What's wrong?” Keith asked.

“There's somethin' I need to tell you about your ma,” Travis began awkwardly. There really was no easy way to say it, was there? “She's here, Keith.”

Keith looked startled. “Here? On the ship? I – but how? When?”

“She's with Kolivan on the prison break mission right now, but she'll be back. Not real sure how or when she got here. We haven't had much chance to catch up, everything's been happenin' so fast.” Travis paused, giving Keith time to process everything he was hearing. “I know you've got a lot goin' on right now, but we both figured it wouldn't be right to blindside you with this. It's up to you, when and if you wanna see her.”

“Of course I want to see her,” Keith said, his voice thick with emotion. “I just... Does she really want to see me?”

Travis nodded. “She does.”

He watched Keith take a moment to think, to compose himself and stand up straight, steeling his nerves so he could say what he needed to. His inner strength shone through, the resolve of someone ready to step up and take the lead.

“Okay. Once everything has calmed down – when we have Shiro and Pidge's dad back – then I want to meet her,” Keith said.

It was everything Travis could have hoped for.

“What happened to your hair?”

Lance nearly whined at the question, posed by Hunk the moment he and Allura stepped off of the Altean shuttle. He reached up and plucked at his newly white hair.

Allura quickly stopped him, taking his hand in her own and lowering it. “Your hair looks fine, Lance.”

“I'm more curious about the markings, to be honest,” Pidge said, peering closely at his face. “Is this a side effect of Altean magic?”

“Alchemy,” Allura corrected.

Keith stepped forward before anyone else could comment on Lance's change in appearance. “The important thing is, they're back safely. Do you think you can help Shiro?”

“Yes. I don't know how exactly, but I know I can do it. It's... difficult to explain,” Allura said.

“Your father used to say that a lot when he was building the Lions,” Coran said, smiling fondly at the memory. “There's no time to waste! I will bring the cryo-pod down to the Black Lion's hangar. It's time to bring Shiro home.”

Allura nodded and led the way as the team split up – Coran with Travis and Keith to help safely move Shiro's body, and Pidge, Hunk, and Lance with Allura.

“It actually is a good look for you.” Pidge tried to compliment Lance, but he pouted for most of the walk down, certain that he was being teased.

Hunk and Pidge tried to assure him that they were being sincere, but gave up after a few minutes and instead asked questions about what Oriande was like and what they'd learned while they were there. Allura did her best to answer, but fell short for most of them.

There were only so many ways to describe suddenly knowing something, without having actually learned it.

By the time they reached the hangar, Lance had relaxed enough to try and help Allura tell them about their trip, but soon encountered a similar problem when asked about his role in all of it.

“I don't really know,” he said with a shrug. “There was this old temple and statues that wanted to kill us, and also the ceiling that tried to crush us... Basically, everything there wanted us dead!”

“Everything was designed to test us,” Allura corrected, sounding amused by his descriptions.

“By trying to kill us,” Lance agreed and continued on. “And then we weren't in the temple at all anymore and there was this giant ghost lion who-”

“Wait, wait, let me guess,” Hunk playfully interrupted with a big grin on his face. “It wanted to kill you?”

Lance nodded emphatically. “I know you're just teasing me, but that's exactly what it tried to do!”

“Lance very heroically sacrificed himself to protect me,” Allura further explained, making him blush. “Every Altean who passes the trials and earns the blessings of the Ancients needs a Guardian – someone to stand by their side and help harness their new abilities and the knowledge gained. That's why the other me said I needed to take someone who I trusted with all of my heart.”

“That's so cool!” Pidge gushed.

“It's kind of like when we sit and bounce ideas back and forth,” Hunk said, looking to Pidge. “Neither of us hold all of the answers, but together we stand a chance.”

Allura smiled. “That's one way to look at it.”

The hangar doors slid open and everyone turned to look as Coran, Travis, and Keith maneuvered the hovering cryo-pod towards the Black Lion and set it down in front of her.

“We're ready whenever you are, princess,” Coran said. He waited near the keypad for her word, releasing it only once she and Lance were in position.

Allura closed her eyes and reached out with her mind for the answer to what she needed to do. Lance rested a hand on her shoulder, offering a steady presence to keep her grounded. He walked with her as she approached the Black Lion and placed her hand on the Lion's paw.

A purr rumbled through the hangar as the Black Lion's eyes lit up.

Allura began to glow with a soft white light, and soon after, Lance's blue markings did the same. They turned together, moving perfectly in step back to Shiro's body, where Allura placed her hands on his chest. The glow slowly faded from her, trickling instead into his body.

Everyone held their breath as she lifted her hands and then Shiro gasped in air and began to cough. She backed away into Lance's steady arms as Keith rushed in, shouting Shiro's name.

Shiro groaned as he opened his eyes, only for them to flutter shut against the harsh lighting. He turned his head and blinked a few times, trying to adjust. “Keith...?” he asked hoarsely.

“I'm here,” Keith said, relief soaking his voice.

“What happened to my arm?”

There was a momentarily pause where everyone feared he was suffering from memory loss, but Pidge quickly stepped forward to dissolve that fear.

“That was me,” she said, walking over to stand by Keith after a nudge and a pointed look from Hunk. “It was the only thing we could think of to do to keep the Galra from finding out what we were doing. Sorry, but it might be a while before you have another working one.”

Shiro turned his head to blearily peer up at them, managing a tiny smile. “I owe you both my thanks.”

“Allura did all of the hard work, transferring you back into your body,” Keith told him. “And Lance helped.”

“Thank you,” Shiro said, raising his voice as much as he could. Exhaustion coated his words and every action he took and he soon closed his eyes. “I guess getting pulled out of the Astral Plane and back into a body is more tiring than I thought.”

“We'll reset the pod for healing to make sure your recovery goes as smoothly as possible,” Allura reassured him. She nodded to Coran, who worked to do as she asked at once.

As Shiro slid into a deep, restful sleep, a sense of serenity began to fall over the inhabitants of the Castle of Lions. At last, everyone was right where they were supposed to be. The paladins were home.

Soon, they would have to return to the war and all of the problems associated with it, but for the moment they could exist in a bubble where everything was perfect. And once they did return, they could do so with renewed enthusiasm, ready to take on anything else the universe wanted to throw their way.

[transtech-zine]

Page 04:

CHARACTER BIOS

Cheetor – Supreme Commander

Not that long ago, Cheetor was an impulsive, speed-obsessed punk.  Then he was forced to step up as a squad leader during the Battle of the Sparks.  Now, for what he feels was merely being in the right place at the right time, Cheetor must face his most challenging role yet: leader of Cybertron.  He doesn’t doubt that he’s still the fastest cat on two or four wheels; it’s the responsibility of running a planet that weighs heavy on his shoulders.  After all, why should he and his team lead Cybertron just because they were the ones to liberate it?

Optimus Prime senses great potential in Cheetor, and has taken him on as a mentee – tutelage for which Cheetor is grateful.  While he chafes when Optimus oversteps his bounds and starts giving his team orders, on some level he’d like to be that cocksure rookie again.

Under Optimus, Cheetor has honed his Transcendence ability.  He no longer needs to dream to see a prophetic vision of the future; now his Transcendence allows him a flash of foresight.  Combined with his super speed, this makes Cheetor a dangerous and evasive adversary in any combat situation.

Optimus Prime – Mentor

The legendary leader of the Autobots.  Once, he singlehandedly ended the Great War by trapping himself and Decepticon High Command in the Millennia Dome, ensuring they would be suspended in time for all eternity… barring accidents.  Now, Optimus Prime finds himself on an unfamiliar Cybertron, surrounded by new faces and old enemies.  Allying himself with Cheetor’s squad of former Maximals, Optimus is committed to ensuring that Megatron’s forces do not shatter the peace that he has fought so long to establish.

After initial teething troubles, Optimus Prime has stepped out of the spotlight and into an advisory role, counselling Cheetor and the younger Autobots.  In this capacity, Optimus is a veritable fount of wisdom, with four million years’ worth of battle experience under his belt.  However, his charges sometimes find that his insight is more applicable to times of all-out warfare rather than the relative peace of Cybertropolis.

When called upon to battle, Optimus Prime is a force to be reckoned with.  Upgrades during the Great War have maxed out his abilities, giving him above average strength, speed, and firepower.  His Transcendence allows him to manifest hard light energy weapons, including his signature axe.

Transcendence

The Battle for the Sparks was the Maximals’ darkest hour.  Optimus Primal and his team had managed to seize control of the Grand Mal, the Vehicon Megatron’s stronghold, and with it the lost sparks of every civilian on Cybertron.  But they were outnumbered and outgunned, besieged by the Vehicons from all angles.  Primal retreated to the sparks’ chamber, where the spiritualist beseeched the Oracle – the supercomputer at the heart of Cybertron – to grant him the wisdom and strength needed to defeat Megatron and bring balance to Cybertron.  Speaking as one, the captive sparks granted the Maximals phenomenally boosted power and speed.  For a time, this allowed them to have the upper hand over their Vehicon enemies, but their newfound abilities faded when Megatron cut their connection to the Oracle.

However, part of the Oracle’s power still lingers within Cheetor’s team, beginning to manifest in ways they cannot control.  Optimus Prime recognises the effects; the ancient hero was similarly touched by the Oracle during the final phase of the Autobots’ war with the Decepticons.  Under Optimus Prime’s tutelage, each of the former Maximals can begin to harness that power and channel it into a unique special ability.

I wanted to bring some of Beast Machines’ sense of graphic design to the page layouts in this zine.  The font used for the headers is Neuropolitical, a wide font that screams 90s graphic design.  Rounded rectangles are used in this section, as they are on Beast Machines’s cardbacks.  The dotted and dashed lines in later pages are also from BM toy packages.

We start with a potted history of Cheetor.  Following Beast Machines’ finale, which feels like a definitive ending, the question is, what happens next?  The answer is: Cheetor gets anxiety.  It’s easy to write a story where the hero wins and becomes the king of the land, but to me there’s always the lingering doubt that swashbuckling heroism is transferable experience to governing.  Cheetor’s impostor syndrome is deliberately evocative of the G1 cartoon’s version of Rodimus Prime, including an episode where he gets to be young and reckless again.

There isn’t much of a close-up look at Cheetor’s head in extant Transtech concepts.  Notoriously, pictures of his toy prototype lack his finished robot mode.  As I’d intended to digibash said toy back into existence, I had to pick a pre-existing head to model his appearance on, so I chose his relatively obscure Titanium Series toy.  It’s not made clear in the credits, but I drew all the character profile art.

With Cheetor in the main hero role, Optimus Prime has to become a mentor.  This is patterned after the Robots in Disguise 2015 cartoon, where Optimus returns to life and finds himself at odds with Bumblebee’s leadership.

“Barring accidents” is a Doctor Who quote, for some reason.

At once stage I was committed to referring to the character as “Optimus Prime”, never “Optimus” nor “Prime” alone.  I’m glad I dropped that.

Look at me, retconning both Cheetor’s prophetic dreams and Optimus’ energo-axe into manifestations of the same ability.  It’s like poetry, it rhymes.

When my brother proofread an earlier draft of this zine, he fed back that Transcendence was quickly glossed over in the overview without ever being clearly explained what it was and who could use it.  I added this additional section in here; while not strictly a character bio, it does allow me a consistent three profiles per page.

EDIT: Just over a year later, the fan-run unofficial continuation of Ask Vector Prime here on tumblr would retcon Transcendence as a variant of Masterforce’s Chōkon Power, giving it the name Kijūchōkon, roughly meaning “Machine Beast Super Soul Power”.  Transtech is shonen now

[boringsundays]

Things are so surreal right now

My managers announced my promotion to the office today and I got so many congratulations emails from all my coworkers.

I was training a girl who will be my direct report. I will be her manager. I’m training someone who is in the same exact job title that I was a year and a half ago.

A year and a half ago I wanted to kill myself. I cried the entire night before my interview at this company. Because I felt lost and miserable. I felt purposeless and didn’t know why I studied what I did in college if I was too “stupid” to find a job in my field after graduation. I felt like i was stuck in LA with nothing and no one.

I went to the interview just to appease my mom and then I was ready to give up. Fly back home, cry, and face the shame my family was putting on me at the time.

I got hired on the spot. They asked me if I could start Monday.

I still felt horrible the entire 6-7 months I was in LA. I felt lost, self-conscious, disoriented and so distressed that I had no life plan. At the same time, my coworkers built me up. They were kind and encouraging. They said many nice things about me and frequently told me how good I was at my job.

I still felt like an impostor. I felt like I was in a “dumb” job that “didn’t count”. I felt like an idiot. But slowly their words of encouragement gave me the slightest bit of self esteem I needed.

I transferred back to my home state and started at a branch office here. I immediately clicked with everyone and, back in my comfort zone of home, I could finally focus on work and moving forward.

Within 3 months of being in this new branch, I was promoted.

I got happier and happier. I had confidence again. I felt good. I felt like i had a purpose waking up in the morning. Even if this job wasn’t what I wanted for the rest of my life. Even if it wasn’t at all what I envisioned for myself. It felt good to care about something and to invest myself in something.

6 months after that first promotion, I was promoted again. And now I am managing the admin team I started with. I am training the girl who was me a year and a half ago. My coworkers never stop telling me how much the appreciate me and what I do for them.

That recognition is so nice and always warms my heart. I work really damn hard for it. But now, finally, I don’t rely on the praise to nourish my motivation or my spirit. I feel good about myself. I trust my self.

That confidence is what led me to set a goal this year of having difficult conversations. If I wanted to progress in my life and in my career, I needed to stop being afraid.

This is what led me to cut off a friendship that had been toxic and traumatic for years.

This is what led me to be firmer at work. To stand up for myself. To show I could be a manager.

This confidence is what led me to start trying personal training in spite of being terrified of working out in front of ANYONE my entire life.

Through personal training, I met my very first boyfriend at 23 years old. I met the first man I feel comfortable being myself around, the first man I feel comfortable cuddling and kissing and talking to. The first who says good morning and calls me mid day just to say hi and ask how my day is going

Life is very very very strange. You never really notice your life taking nosedives or climbing to a climax until it’s already happened

I still don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing. But now...I’m okay with that. Because I’m a better companion to myself. I take care of myself better. And I push myself more

A year and a half ago on thanksgiving, I sat in my car sobbing in a Kohl’s parking lot. I texted a suicide hotline and looked up bridges near Los Angeles that were high enough for me to jump to my death from

Now life’s completely turned around. I’ve said “it’s get better” in my life a lot. Because it does. But it also gets worse. And better again. And then worse again.

But the more you go through it, the better you become at riding those waves. It gets better because you make it better, even when you don’t realize it. You’re fighting so hard to survive that you end up in a whole new life situation in a year

I can’t express my gratitude enough. To the universe. To every kind person I met along the way who raised me up without realizing it. To the people who challenged me enough to force me to grow, stand up for myself, and fight back when warranted. And most of all, I am thankful to myself

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 059: The Origin of One for All

Previously on BnHA: Deku said farewell to Gran and headed back to U.A. Bakugou’s Jeanist hair was featured in just one panel, but forever left its impact on me and henceforth I will observe a moment of silence for Bakugou’s dignity each year on the anniversary of this day. The kids discussed their internships. Iida, Deku, and Todoroki received extra attention due to the whole Hero Killer thing. All Might conducted some training. Deku showed off his new skills. All Might asked Deku to visit him after class SO THAT HE CAN FINALLY TELL HIM ALL OF HIS SECRETS AND EVERYTHING ABOUT HIS PAST AND ABOUT ONE FOR ALL. OH MY GOD SOMEONE HOLD ME, HOW I HAVE WAITED FOR THIS DAY.

Today on BnHA: Mineta gets some comeuppance. Deku chats with All Might. All Might reveals the origins of All for One, a man whose quirk allows him to steal other quirks as well as grant them to others. We learn that One for All came to exist when this same man transferred a quirk to his brother which mutated and allowed his brother to pass on that power from generation to generation. All Might warns Deku that he might have to face All for One someday. Deku says he’ll be fine as long as All Might’s by his side. (: Aizawa announces a summer trip to a forest training camp. All for One’s face is finally revealed (!!).

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 132 now, so any ETAs will reflect that. 

**There are manga spoilers in this post for BnHA chapter 131, which has not yet aired in the anime.** These spoilers are marked, but it’s the first time this has come up, so please take heed. If anyone has any feedback regarding ways to possibly do this better, I’m definitely open to it!)

something about that number 59 that I really love... can’t quite put my finger on it :)

(ETA: present me is feeling less playfully cryptic than past me, and realizes that not everyone reading a BnHA recap is going to have detailed knowledge of the KHR fandom and all of its weird idiosyncrasies, which include, among other things, a system in which each character has a corresponding number. so just to be clear, 59 is a reference to this asshole, a.k.a. my favorite character now and always. and I could, in fact, actually put my finger on it, and if there ever comes a day when I don’t associate that number with him, it’ll be safe to assume that I am either an impostor or dead.)

anyways I have skyhigh fucking expectations for this chapter now, so let’s hope it can deliver!

JIROU PROFILE!

imagine being able to fuck up someone’s internal organs with the sound of your own heartbeat

six meters is nothing to laugh at; that’s some pretty decent range there. and she seems to have full control over the jacks’ movements the entire time

so I read Jirou as a lesbian, and I’m curious what everyone else’s thoughts are. yay? nay?

and I mentioned this a while ago, but I’ve shipped her and Momo since like chapter 16, and I still ship it lol

on to the chapter!

the kids of class A are changing back into their normal uniforms after All Might’s training session. Deku is wondering what All Might wants to talk to him about, and he’s a little nervous

Mineta is calling Deku over and saying he’s made a discovery. Mineta how dare you pollute my chapter 59 with your garbage presence

yep it’s exactly what I thought it was. little shit found a peephole leading to the girl’s locker room on the other side

Iida’s telling him to stop, but he’s not doing nearly enough

omg

I feel like this should have some kind of trigger warning. in fact, I was originally going to post the closeup of the earphone jack stabbing right into his eye, but then I was like, you know what, let’s just err on the side of caution

have I mentioned how much I fucking love Jirou omgg. only regret is that she didn’t take out both his eyes

OH MY GOD SHE’S USING HER QUIRK TO FUCK UP HIS EYE EVEN MORE

“YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW” YESSSSSSSSSSSS. THAT’S MY CHAPTER 59!!!!!

NOW DEKU IS IN ALL MIGHT’S BREAK ROOM. OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING

OH MY GOD

RIGHT??!?!

All Might says he’s sorry he wasn’t by Deku’s side. “you’ve been through a lot”

omgggggggg

-- OH FUCKING SHIT

OH SHIT OH SHIT I JUST REALIZED

“do you remember what I said when I granted you this power?” omg. DNA. oh my god oh my god

THANK FUCKING GOD?!?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME, CHRIST

jesus. okay so he says One for All won’t transfer to a new recipient unless the user wills it to

so it can’t be taken by force, but he does interestingly point out that it can be passed on to someone else without their consent. which is true, and something I hadn’t considered! if you got someone to unknowingly take in some of your DNA (or hell, it doesn’t even have to be unknowingly, does it. can you also transfer One for All through makeouts or sexy times?? omg), you could pass the ability to them without their knowledge. or even against someone’s will. though I have no idea why anyone would ever want to do that

(ETA: actually, it’s since occurred to me that there is at least one scenario where someone might be forced to do that, and that’s to prevent the quirk from falling into All for One’s hands once again. and now I really want a plot line in which Deku is forced to do this. talk about the ultimate sacrifice play. I don’t necessarily see it happening in the series -- although it would be amazing!! -- but my god I would read the shit out of that fanfic. just so long as it has a happy ending in which Deku escapes and One for All is restored back to him, though. oh man. now I’m thinking about this wayyyy too much hahaha.)

he says One for All comes from another quirk!

ALL FOR ONE?!

-- it ROBS others of their quirks omg

okay so obviously All for One must have this quirk. and I mean, it’s the perfect villain quirk. it ties into what’s been going on with the Noumus. and most importantly, it’s the antithesis of All Might’s own (former) quirk. One for All vs. All for One. literally doesn’t get more balanced than that

exactly like with the Noumus

calling it right fucking now, someone Deku knows is going to have their quirk stolen

imagine if it was Bakugou. and all of a sudden he was rendered quirkless. the thing he despises the most. omg. I think I mentioned in a previous post that I know we’re gonna get some Baku angst at some point, and now that I know this is fucking possible, holy shit. it really could happen, maybe. omg

(ETA: lol get ready for all my speculation from the Forest Training Camp arc up until basically the end of the Hideout Raid arc to be tinted by this lens. I fucking spooked myself a bit there.)

okay so apparently this all started back when quirks were just becoming a thing. so we’re talking a ways back. and I guess that makes sense, given that Deku is supposedly the ninth-gen user of One for All

so basically when quirks first came onto the scene, it was like X-Men. everything was in upheaval, people were scared of people with quirks, and basically no one knew what to do and society went nuts

but some guy came along and “brought the people together”

wow the dude fucking took over the entire country of Japan. I would fucking hope Deku had heard of this guy, then?

he has heard of it, but only through “rumors”, and he thought it was all made up. apparently they kept this incident out of the textbooks. so this guy’s influence must be extraordinary even now

now All Might’s explaining how One for All came about from all of this!

just like fucking Noumu omg

that’s what I just said, Deku. geez. fine I’ll be quiet

so All Might says that in some cases when people were granted quirks, their quirks mutated and blended together

omg

holy shit

so he had a quirk that did nothing except allow itself to be passed down to someone else. but then for some unknown reason, Big Bad gives him a crazy powerful new quirk, and that new quirk merges with the passing-down quirk

can I just quickly say, I love that the brothers’ original quirks were so closely related, since it makes sense what with them being blood related

All Might says justice is always born from evil. that’s a good line, dammit

Deku’s asking so then how can that original guy from all those years ago still be around. I’m guessing he must have stolen some sort of immortality quirk

and All Might theorizes the same

holy shit. so the brother kept opposing him but couldn’t beat him, so he ended up passing his quirk on to the next generation, and the cycle kept repeating itself again and again

(ETA: I couldn’t think of where else to put this, but I just wanted to mention that since One for All works by stockpiling power -- meaning its power increases with every subsequent generation -- this means that Deku is destined to become even stronger than All Might, and that’s so damn exciting.)

what?! that’s all the detail you’re going to go into about this part??

so anyways, this is why he hadn’t told Deku about this yet. because of the whole “you’re destined to have to face this guy yourself one day, maybe” thing. wow

he’s more Dumbledore than I originally thought

but Deku is pretty damn Gryffindor

oh my god ;_;

the fact that he said “as long as you’re with me...”

and now All Might is looking so fucking anguished all of a sudden

oh my god don’t be dying. please don’t be dying All Might

oh god

oh my god. don’t tell me it’s what I thought earlier. that once you give up One for All that’s it and you’re doomed. please don’t let that be the case. if it comes to him thinking he’s going to die, I’d rather it be from the injury. like, something about how modern medicine can only do so much. because at least then there’s hope that someone will come along with some miracle cure quirk or something, maybe. but if his own quirk is killing him, then there probably isn’t anything that can be done, and I don’t know if I can handle that after the bond that these two have formed!! I don’t care if it’s thematically perfect!!

(ETA: ***SPOILER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 131***)

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okay so! this has finally been explained and of course, it’s perfect. the idea of a prophecy is something I didn’t see coming, but once Nighteye’s quirk was established, it made a whole lot of sense. and yet somehow if you can believe it, I still didn’t see it coming lol.

but I like this a lot! because it works as both something that feels inevitable, and something that the characters are determined to fight nonetheless. and it adds an ominous clock-ticking-down feel to everything that’s going to come after this point. although I’ve only read one chapter since then, lol, so I don’t actually have any idea where this is going to head just yet.

but anyway, I’m just happy it was finally addressed, and that Deku’s reaction was as angsty as I could have hoped for, and that All Might’s subsequent response was more perfect than I could have ever dared to dream, and have I mentioned to you guys how much I love Toshinori and Deku’s relationship because oh my god. I love it so damn much.

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(END SPOILERS)

ALL OF A SUDDEN WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO CLASS A. FINE. GOOD. LET’S PUT THESE FEELS ON HOLD FOR NOW

Aizawa says summer break is approaching. I feel like this is a good time to pause for a sec and take stock of who is still fifteen and who is sixteen, because I realized the other day that Bakugou’s April birthday means he’s among the oldest in the class (ETA: in fact he is the oldest), and already turned sixteen before the sports festival

okay, so Aoyama, Hagakure, Satou, and Kaminari have already had their birthdays for sure, and Deku, Iida, Sero, and Mina either also just turned sixteen or they’re going to shortly, because they all have birthdays in the back half of July, and the Japanese summer break is usually in August

interestingly (well it is to me), Todoroki is actually one of the youngest kids in 1-A; his birthday’s not till January. the only younger ones are Kouda, Tsuyu, and Shouji of all people (Shouji you sure are a big guy aincha)

okay now back to your regularly scheduled programming

oooh Aizawa says they’re going to a summer break forest lodge!! yessss omg. this immediately sounds amazing

lol these kids have seriously misinterpreted what kind of trip this is going to be. what fucking school do you all think you’re attending here

yeeees this is my favorite thing, not even gonna pretend. I wonder just how many fanfics are set during this arc hahaha

Aizawa says that if any of them fail the end of term exam, they’ll be stuck in school, and I guess that means they miss out. YOU’D ALL BETTER PASS THEN. EXCEPT MINETA -- YOU CAN GO TO HELL

aww, poor Deku is still sitting there completely distracted by his conversation with Dumbledore -- I mean All Might -- earlier

he really didn’t. and I’ll try not to let any associations with Dumbledore cloud my fondness for that bravest and most selfless and noble of men, the Symbol of Motherfucking Peace, who just doesn’t want to dump all of this on Deku just now, and wants to let him be able to enjoy school and being a kid for as long as he can like normal

and I mean, similarities aside, All Might never pulled any shit like dumping Deku in an abusive household for eleven years, or basically raising him for slaughter and keeping mum about a prophecy that said he had to die

so yeah. All Might, you’re good

my god this has been a good chapter 59

oh my god we’re cutting to THE OTHER END OF THE SKYPE CHAT OH MY GOD. HOLD ME I CAN’T BREATHE

WHERE’S YOUR HEAD OH MY GOD I CAN’T TAKE IT?!

he’s chatting with some mad scientist-looking guy

so he has that same regeneration quirk that the Noumu had, but he received it after All Might wounded him. actually, his fight with All Might was supposed to have taken place five years prior to the start of the series (so six years ago), right? so that would mean he only just got the regeneration power recently

OH SHIT!!!!!

YESSSSSSSSSSS

OH MY GOD HE’S PERFECT. EXACTLY AS CREEPY AND THREATENING AS HE NEEDS TO BE. THE LACK OF EYES REALLY HELPS. WHAT WITH THEM BEING THE WINDOW TO THE SOUL, IT’S ONLY FITTING THAT THIS GUY DOESN’T HAVE ANY

SERIOUSLY, IT IMMEDIATELY MAKES HIM THAT MUCH MORE THREATENING IN MY BRAIN, JUST, LIKE, INSTINCTIVELY. LIKE A SLENDERMAN VIBE ALMOST

and he says All Might should enjoy this “transient peace” while he still can

holy fucking shit

I’m so fucking hyped omg. like this dude absolutely can be the final villain for the next 140 or 240 or 540 chapters, however long it takes to tell the rest of this story. he’s got it. All for One. so fucking perfect holy shit