#THE PROLOGUE WAS UPSETTING ENOUGH SURELY IT CANNOT GET WORSE FROM HERE

[redhotarsenic]

Maybe the ending of bayonetta 3 won’t be as bad as I heard it was and everyone was overreacting a bit :)

[yoursecretmuse]

My Perception On No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai

🥀 This year has brought me many joys, that have left me with melancholy victories. I have been venturing out of my usual book genres and I've found a selection of well to do books that I simply cannot live without. How I've existed this far without them, I will never know. There are many different types of literature out there and of course I only focus on English and European Literature. Not because I'm bias  in some way. But I've always found American and European culture very interesting. Despite ignoring my very own culture. It had never occurred to me, that until now, I have never heard of Asian Literature. It's like an unknown phenomenon that no one speaks of. When I think back of my studies in school, I've never even heard of my teachers mentioning Asian writers at all. It was like they didn't exist or people found Asian culture not important enough to read about. Which is odd because in Asian countries they have liberties filled with European novel and American novels. Is it safe to say that Asian people find European and American culture interesting, though we do not share the same feelings toward them. Nevertheless, I stumbled upon Osamu Dazai after reading a mutual friends post about Vincent Van Gogh. It was a silly meme that consisted of Van Gogh and Osamu talking over their depression. Which is not something to joke about but I must confess I found it humorous. Through that humor, I decided to research Osamu and the rest is history. So, here is my thoughts on the exceptional book, No Longer Human. I want to give an in-depth review without giving the book away too much (if at all). But I must warn you that spoilers may become a possibility. No Longer Human is broken into three parts, including an introduction in the beginning by Donald Keene, as well as a Prologue & Epilogue by Osamu Dazai himself. So, to make things easier to understand, I'm going to review each part individually.

The Introduction Normally, I would skip this part of the book because at times it can be very boring and bland. But after reading The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johaan Wolfgang Von Goethe, I found it important to read book introductions because they can have valuable information about the writer. In this section, Donald Keene noted how under appreciated Asian writer are in literature. For some odd reason, American & Europeans cultures specifically seem to feel like we cannot learn anything from Asian culture. Perhaps it has something to do with our history with going to battle with certain Asian countries. Yet, that did not stop countries like Japan and China from filling their liberties with American & European literature. Which upsets me. Had it not been for Van Gogh, I would have missed out on an extremely talented writer. I'm not sure who is to blame for this but I find the idea of not representing Asian writers outside of manga is shameful and sad. There is more to their culture than just that. However, as a whole our world only views Asian people in a small and certain light, that barely gives them any kind of positive recognition outside of the obvious stereotypes. In short, I really urge everyone to take time and read the introduction and share your thoughts on Keene's and my views. What do you think and why is Asian literature so lost and underrepresented? Why do Asian writers rather be on the bottom of American top writing lists, than the top of Asian writer lists? It is very interesting.

🥀

The Prologue In this section, you learn of how Ōba Yōzō (aka Dazai himself) feels alienated and very much of a misfit. He tells you how all of his life he has worn a mask to hid his true sensitive and self destructive self. He harshly criticizes himself and informs you of how he feels about the nature of "humans" and how he never felt like one, thus making him believe that he is not. I like this part of the novel because I can relate to it in so many ways. Many things he explained and said is how I felt (and still very much feel) about myself. Not only of my appearance and state of being but also without people. We both share the same reflection on our confidence or lack there of as a child. I shared his thoughts on normality being ugly and being bland and not standing out is worse than being ugly or beautiful. He even goes on to explain that death has more of a soul or an expression than him. The ugly/void he felt as a child (as well as his whole life) has manifested into a visible void, that crept from his inner darkness and it carries a bland look. Which to me speaks volumes. 🥀

The First Notebook Unable to cope with the world around him, Ōba begins to become a jokester and class clown, in order to mask away the alienation that he feels. He engages in planned fails and acts as if he has no clue as to what he does. He tells us of his environment at home. His father always being gone on business and his mother he did not mention much. He speaks of his maids/servants mistreating him, but he never reported them because he sees it as pointless. We also learn he views a "human" as someone who is happy and hopeful. Perhaps, attractive in some way and could possibly have a great deal or comfortable amount of money. Which is strange because his family were quite wealthy and well known. He speaks of how he feels his life is a shame and the life of a "human" was not cut out for him. There is much more to be said here but I do not wish to spoil everything. I still want readers to get a wow factor from this book, without knowing every details and topic. 🥀

The Second Notebook A very key factor in this part is that Ōba is caught by another student named Takeichi who suspects and confronts him on faking his fall during "gym" class. This sends Ōba into a manic behavior and he somewhat becomes obsessed with Takeichi and fears that he will expose him for being a fraud. I found this interesting given Takeichi had no intention on exposing Ōba or telling anyone about his opinions on his stunts. Certain things happens and the two become somewhat of friends and Takeichi began to mention things to Ōba that were predicting and in a way life changing for Ōba. Ōba also finds an strong interest in art, which leads him to start painting. Ōba also becomes apart of a communist group and becomes a respectable member. Though, he does not share their same views and is only there because he views them as misfits. In this section, a young man now, Ōba meets someone by the name of Horiki. Horiki is also a college student but exposes Ōba into an unfortunate and dreadful life cycles, that pleasures and destroys him further. He also tries to commit suicide with a woman named Tsuneko, who dies but he does not. This even tears him apart and causes his family to the verge of disowning him. 🥀

The Third Notebook: Part One Ōba begans to have multiple affairs with different women, from different walks of life. He becomes a heavy drinker and is expelled from college. He becomes too focus on self destruction, he was not able to create or focus on his artwork. He tries to quite smoking and drinking. But struggles terribly. He marries a young girl, who tries to encourage him to stop drinking and for awhile it works. And for a moment Ōba is happy. The two both marry and move in together. 🥀

The Third Notebook: Part Two Working as a cartoon and sober, Ōba feels somber toward marriage life. He thinks of his wife as native and innocent. But he falls into bad habits once he is visited by an old friend named Horiki, who (with Ōba) witnesses Ōba's wife being sexually assaulted by an associate friend. Ōba begins to blame himself, as well as his wife and becomes manic and fills himself with alcohol and is committed into a mental hospital. After leaving his wife for another woman. This parts ends with him being brought to a home that his brother purchased for him and given the money he needed for living and personal interest. Ōba is left feeling empty and recounts his choices and views of hisself. 🥀

Epilogue We are then given the prospective of an outsider, who wanted to meet Ōba but fails. He then meets a friend of Ōba and she gives him the three notebooks. The man is intrigued by the notebooks and decides to publish them. We are left with a reflects of Ōba's friend telling us that he was a kind and gentle soul, who made everyone laugh and smile. 🥀

My Final Thoughts I believe this is one of the greatest books that I have read. I love the rawness of this book and I adore how the events were true. I feel that Osamu Dazai was a great writer and his death is very unfortunate. I find the way he told his life very interesting and beautiful and poetic. I wish I was able to meet him and praise him for being an amazing artist and writer. But the result would probably remain the same. There is so much that we can learn from Osamu and his life. His perception on life and people is very interesting and a very rare viewpoint on life. I highly suggest that everyone checkout this novel and spread the works of Asian Literature. Thanks For Listening. -𝓒

[doubleshotofsomething]

Needy

[This is my submission for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​ ‘s Little Darlin’s Mystery AU challenge. This is a three part soulmate au inspired by the song “Needy” by Ariana Grande, the prologue does not count as part one.]

The world is a big place and not everyone gets to meet their soulmate. You’re lucky enough to find the man you’re bound to. There’s just one problem. You’re not the one he wants.

…

Summary: And this is why we can’t have nice things.

Pairings: Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader

Warnings: Angst... angst? anGST?? [idk what other warnings I can put], definitely no fluff. Everyone is still an idiot, more so than ever.

Prompts: soulmate au. song prompt.

----

Prologue Part One

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Part Two: [But all that I know is I need you close]

Soulmate.

That's what he called it. That's what you were to someone else, to another man. Their soulmate.

Bucky's soulmate.

"Uh—" Thor blinks. He was having a hard time processing the information. "You're her what?"

It was laundry day. He was in the middle of separating the colours from the whites, like you taught him, to lessen the load for you, when there was a knock. You were supposed to be back in a few hours - today was the day you had the least work hours - to finish the task of throwing each load in the washer. He never could work that thing.

He had let Bucky in as soon as he opened the door, offered him a beer and scrambled through the drawers for a clean shirt to wear. Turns out you were the only one that didn't mind him walking around in a pair of sweatpants.

Both men were confused at first, finding each other on opposite sides of your apartment’s door. Thor assumed there was a mission he was needed for, so he had a paper and pen in his hand and was halfway through scribbling a note for you - something along the lines of 'work emergency'. Bucky assumed he had gotten the wrong apartment; Sam hadn't been particularly useful in helping him locate you.

If she wanted you to find her, she wouldn't have moved, were his exact words.

Bucky knew he was right. But he still had to see you. He hadn't felt the bond in a few weeks, and it was honestly starting to worry him. The least he could do was make sure you were okay, right?

Imagine his confusion when he found out that yes, this is Y/N's apartment and yes, I'm staying with her and no, she's at work, why are you asking?

"Soulmate," Bucky repeats himself, leaning against the kitchen counter as he eyed Thor. "She seriously didn't tell you?"

Thor shakes his head, mouth slightly agape as he stared back at his co-worker. You would have mentioned having a soulmate, that's something people generally tell each other before they make plans to buy a couch big enough for both of them—

"Are we talking about the same Y/N?" He knows that they're both talking about you, because it is the only thing that makes sense. Of course, you would be soulmates with an Avenger, he was just hoping that he was lucky enough to find an unmatched woman like you.

Bucky nods solemnly, taking a sip from the beer he had been cradling as he continued to lean against the counter.

"And you're matched?" Thor asks, hoping the answer is yes.

Because if you're matched, then it's fine. If you're matched with Bucky, his co-worker and friend, then being in love with you was absolutely fine. He could still have you, you could still be his, he could still slice up the peppers for you like you had asked - like you had shown for tonight's dish - and he could still help you make that dish without worrying about—

Bucky shakes his head, eyes scanning your new apartment again. "Mated." He mumbles, frowning slightly at how much smaller it was than your first one, too small for two.

"Mated..." Thor breathes out, and he stares at the man that was made for the woman he wants.

Because that's so much worse. Because he can't have you now, not when you were made for someone else.

It shouldn't surprise him, that you would be a matebond. He thought it was odd for you to not have a match or a mate. The universe could never create such a being, soft and sweet and right, and not have made her for someone like Barnes, rough and edgy and in need of the love you could provide. Fate would never have it.

But it did. It honestly surprised him. You hadn't mentioned having a mate or that he was Bucky. And Bucky had married another woman. And you lived in an apartment that was made for one, when your entire nature was to nest for two, prepare for two, exist for two.

"You're married." is the only thing Thor can seem to say, the only thing his mind can force out of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at Bucky. Your habits were definitely contagious.

Bucky nods, his face neutral as he looks back at Thor. "I am."

"You were made for someone, literally made for her—" he doesn't mean to get angry, to let the thought of losing you get to him, but it does. "—and you married someone else?"

Bucky grimaces, putting the bottle down. He hates that he has heard those words before, hates it even more that it's always from people involved with you in some way, from people in love with you - as if they even knew you like he does.

Steve. Sam. And now, Thor.

"Yeah," he sighs, "I married someone else. That's part of the reason I'm here—"

"—You're here to do what?"

How do you do it? How do you keep on getting his friends, his team, to love you like this? To bat for you like this.

He had barely gotten on good grounds with Sam, then you showed up and ruined a potentially great friendship.

Steve had broken laws, disobeyed orders, took on Hydra countless times, because of their friendship. But, one look at your pretty little face and that annoyingly contagious smile, and he couldn't even leave his best pal alone with you. Not when he had seen that look on his face before. Not when he came back from being with Peggy for you.

And now, Thor, a man who had left Asgard – and came back to help the team – on his quest to win Jane back, was in your kitchen. In sweatpants. Doing laundry.

How do you keep making everyone love you?

How do you keep finding ways to hurt him like this?

"I'm here to fix things, Thor." He shouldn't hate the way it makes him feel, but he does. "I can't feel her, not like before, and that's not right. It... it didn't used to be like this, ya know?"

Thor doesn't. He was made for a throne, and royalty could never have matches or mates. A kingdom could only ever prosper if the ruling party was unmatched, historically speaking, and Kings had to be able to marry whomever was fit to rule beside them - without the prospect of a soulmate intervening.

He didn't know what it was supposed to be like. He had always wanted to know, wanted a soulmate, having loved the notion of it all – having someone made for you. A person so intricately made for another, that it was impossible to be with someone else. So, how could you both be with other people, when you had already found each other?

The weather outside had changed, a darkening sky and a flash of lightening somewhere in the distance. Thor didn't mean to let this upset him, but all he could think about was how he would have to let you be with someone else.

"Thor—"

"Leave, before—" before the temperature drops, before the weather worsens, before it starts to storm—

Because all he could think about was that short-sleeved shirt you wore to work and the jacket you didn't take and the umbrella that was still in the coat closet, because he had said it's going to be a good day, you won't need the jacket and now it wasn't.

Because you were a matebond.

 --

 What you had, the type of soulmate you were, was called a bond – or a mate. It was a rare type, but not uncommon. While most people grew up with matches or were unmatched, you were part of the minority with a mate.

Matches are actual soulmates. It is decided, unchanging. As a match, you live your life knowing that you are just a half – that you have another half somewhere out there. A match's instinct to want their half cannot be fought or changed or challenged. It is inevitable.

Unmatched are as common as matches. They are born from matches who breed with non-matches. The world is a big place, and only 30% of matches ever find their soulmates.

Mates are only ever born because of certain events. Nothing specific, it could be major or minor, an earthquake or the parent of a mate nursing a wounded animal back to health. There wasn't any science to prove the specifics or the nature of the events, only that fate chose which event was significant enough to give parents—matched or unmatched – a mate for a child.

You, along with Sam, were a mate. The science called your kind a bond, because of the biology that linked you and your mate. The stories, folktales, myths, called your kind matebonds, because of the unsettling similarities to the bond’s werewolves had with their mates.

Matches were their own people, regardless of being halves. They could do as they pleased, whenever they pleased. That is why unmatched can only ever come from matches.

Mates, however, could only ever do what their bond to their mates allowed. Everything about a mate was made to correspond with their significant other. Your biology was made for your mate, only him, and vice versa.

You couldn't feel their emotions, like some matches, but your bond - your closeness to each other - could accelerate their healing. Your blood mixing with theirs, your presence near theirs, your smell, everything about you was made for them. You can't feel their pain, but you can feel their presence and them. The bond pulls you towards them - always.

Only 30% of matches ever find each other. But mates will always find each other.

Bucky could never really reject you; it could literally kill you both. He could never be apart from you for too long, it would make him unbearable to those around him. He would constantly need you near, around him, within arm’s reach, because that was his biology.

He would need you, always, and you would always be ready for whenever that was. It was your biology.

When you arrived home and found bags by the door, and Thor waiting for you in the kitchen, a part of you knew why.

He was dressed in the same outfit he was in when you had hit him with your car, stormbreaker placed on the kitchen sink and out of the closet you had insisted it be kept in. His arms were folded across his chest and his expression was one of disappointment. And you didn't need to look into those clear blues to know he was disappointed in you.

You walked into the kitchen cautiously, body shaking slightly from how cold you were – the rain had caught you on your way back to the office from your lunch break, and again on your way to your parking spot across the street – and your hair was drenched.

"He came, didn't he?" You whisper, eyes assessing the giant of a man standing in front of you.

"Your mate?" He hisses.

An actual hiss, directed at you, and not at the waitress who had gotten your order wrong, or your neighbour who could never lower his music and was too scary for you to ask, or the caretaker who would give you a hard time whenever he had to fix something that Thor couldn't.

You hate what that does to you, what his stare does to you. You could take Bucky's angry glare and his temper tantrums, but not Thor's. You couldn't have this with him too, you couldn't survive it.

"Uh..." You don't know what to say. You can't deny it, because he's not wrong. But Bucky hasn't been your mate since... ever. He hasn't been what a mate should have been. "It's not—"

"It's not what? True?" He's leaned back against the sink and, even though stormbreaker is behind you on the counter, you don't like how intimidating he looks. "Please tell me it's not. Please tell me that Bucky is just an ex-boyfriend that's still attached, or that he got the wrong address, and that you're not the girl he's trying to fix things with—"

"—he wants to fix things?" You didn't mean for that to come out as it did, as hopeful, as slightly excited.

But it did, and Thor's light blues darkened so quickly that they nearly remind you of Bucky's.

"You let me into your home and into your life, knowing, knowing who I was and what you were, and you didn't bother to—" he doesn't mean to yell, he really doesn't, but he's angry and he feels betrayed and you have a mate. "What was your plan?"

"Thor—" you're trembling and it's no longer from the cold, "—calm down, please, I can explain."

He scoffs at that, rolling his eyes. "You're not denying it."

"I'm not gonna lie to you!" Your voice is shaky and high-pitched, and you don't mean to escalate this into a screaming match, but it's too late. "Just—I promise it's not what it seems—"

"It seems like you belong to another man!"

"He's not mine!"

"Neither am I, dammit!"

That shouldn't have hurt you. That should not have hurt you. You have heard it so many times, seen it in so many different ways, that it shouldn't have hurt.

But it did.

It hurt more than it should, you had never thought of Thor as yours, but you were beginning to care deeply for him like he wasn't made for anyone else. And, to make it worse, it took this moment, right here and right now, it took the look of disappointment and betrayal, it took the darkening of his eyes, for you to realise that. To realise that this man, this being that had done nothing but give instead of take, had somehow managed to make you fall—

"We're not even together, he and I." you say softly, wrapping your arms around your waist and looking away from him. "We've never been together."

He seems to find that funny because he laughs. It's a bitter laugh, cold and humourless, and you hate how it sounds nothing like his actual laugh.

"You're mates, Y/N." He says, as if you don't already know that. "What you haven't been doesn't compare to what you will be. I can't do this."

"Do what?" Your eyes widen as you look up at him, gaping at him, at what he was trying to say. "Do what, Thor?"

"I can't do this. I can't be with you—"

"Because of Bucky?"

"—because of you. Because of what you are!"

"What I am?" There's a crack in your voice when you say this.

You're shaking and it's his fault. He knows it. You're easily frightened, and you have never liked yelling, or loud noises, or fast movements, as they always seem to set you on edge. He knows this.

He hates this. He hates that this is your conversation right now, that your first fight together will be your last, that he can hear your heartbeat and it's beating too fast for you to still be standing.

He hates that he wants to hold you, and forget about all of this, because he can't. He hates seeing you like this, hates it even more because he's the reason.

Most of all, he hates that you were made for someone else, when everything about you seemed to have been created for him.

You weren't his, but his entire being responded to all of you like he was yours.

"You are made for—"

"I am made for a man who is programmed to want me dead!" You yell, even though you hate it. You yell because Thor isn't Bucky, and there aren't any holes in your walls or shattered glasses around your feet. "This isn't fair—he can't kill me; his biology won't let him but that hasn't kept him from trying! You can't—we can't—he doesn't get to do this again. You can't leave me— please."

His stomach shouldn't churn the way it is, you're not his.

His anger shouldn't be trying to consume him, because you're not his.

You're not his. You're not his. You're not his. He doesn't get to be enraged by—

"Kill you?" He all but growls, the rumble of it mimicked by the thunder that followed.

"It's not fair—" You don't hear him though; your ears are ringing, and your racing heart seems to be louder than your own voice. "—he doesn't get to do this. No!"

"Y/N!"

"No!" When had your life turned into this… "You don't get it. I want this, I want you. I know I can't give you anything-- I don't have anything left to give. But I want you and I want what we have, okay? Because this is good, this is great. We can have this."

You know you can't. That's why you kept your soul-type a secret. With nothing to show for it, no signs or birthmarks, you could be passed off as an unmatched. Until Bucky shows up... and he always shows up.

But you're hoping that this time, it's different. That he isn't like everyone else, like Bucky.

You're hoping that, this time, your reasons are enough for him to want to stay. That you're enough for him to want to stay.

That you're worth the decision to stay...

"The bruising around your neck..." He trails off and you visibly stiffen. "That's why he can't feel you right, isn't it? That's because of him."

"Say you want this too." You say, choosing to ignore his question – as rhetorical as it may be. "Say you'll stay."

He doesn't.

He doesn't say that, and he doesn't stay.

And, once again, you're left to deal with the mess that Bucky created.

[elyvorg]

Still a Hero - author’s commentary (part 2)

I spent almost all my time for two months planning and writing this fic of mine centred around Kaito’s issues, and that amount of thinking-about-something doesn’t just go away once the thing is finished. This is the second of two posts (the first being here) giving a kind of author’s commentary on the fic. For this one, I’ll be (mostly) taking off my Kaito-analyst hat and putting on my author hat, talking about the writing process and how I came up with the ideas for each chapter given how I knew Kaito’s character arc needed to go.

I say I spent two months “planning and writing” this fic, because the first month of that really was all planning. At first this was figuring out the broad strokes of how Kaito’s character arc should work, while also entirely separately imagining him going through various different kinds of torture that seemed like fun. Then I began to slot these torture methods that I’d already decided I liked the idea of into whichever points in his character arc they fit best for, resulting in me beginning to get a coherent set of scenes together.

As my ideas for the story solidified more in my head and grew more elaborate, I began to get them down on paper (well, virtual paper) to help me keep it all straight. I could remember the broad strokes of each scene well enough, but smaller details of ideas I had for the little things Kaito would be doing to indicate his mental state at any point were nice to get down. That way, I didn’t have to try and keep all of that in my head at once and inevitably forget a whole bunch of it when I started actually writing and was using most of my headspace on coming up with good prose. I could craft the progression of Kaito’s mental deterioration more carefully like this, rather than just winging it as I went along, which I think helped a lot considering that said progression was so vital to get right.

Plus, it was nice to be able to have a phase to the writing process where I didn’t let myself worry about wording and just got down all my raw ideas for the… okay, look, I’d call them “beats” of the story, and also possibly use the term “blow-by-blow” to describe how detailed this plan was, but in this particular context those words can be taken very literally. It wasn’t quite that literal. You know what I mean. And that way, when I actually was doing proper prose writing, it was easier to get started in each writing session (something I often have problems with), since the idea for what needs to happen next is already there and all I need to do is think of a good way to word it. Splitting the writing process into separate idea-splurging and prose-writing periods is a really productive way of doing it, at least for how my mind works, and I’ll probably do it again whenever I next write a fic.

While the plan was so detailed that I probably could have done the actual writing in a haphazard order, jumping all over the place just like I did while doing the plan, I wrote everything linearly from the beginning (with one exception that I’ll mention later). It still helped me be able to keep myself in the right headspace for Kaito’s mental deterioration to have gone through that progression with him, at least while actually writing it. Especially since Kaito’s mindset did still do a few unexpected things that I hadn’t quite anticipated in the plan.

Also, geez, did you notice how I called the chapters “scenes” up there? Yeah, once upon a time I thought this’d just be a longish one-shot fic, so in my head, they were scenes and not chapters for a good while. I did not realise quite how long things would turn out. Which is perhaps a good thing, since if I’d known that this would end up 64 freaking pages long, maybe that’d have made me think twice about actually writing it. And I’m really glad I actually wrote this.

The realisation that this was being so ridiculously long that it really needed to be chaptered happened some way into chapter 6, which at least meant that I got to come up with all the chapter titles all at once. I had fun making them all work together; I knew chapter 6 shouldn’t be titled anything but “Hero”, so I made the rest all fit around that to describe the hero. Kaito is a Vulnerable posturing helpless unimportant losing deluded HERO With Friends; the capitalisation or lack thereof is very deliberately meaningful. The non-capitalised titles are meant to give a sense that Kaito is sort of subconsciously beginning to feel these things are true about him by the end of each respective chapter while not wanting to admit it, and then the all-caps “HERO” is him shouting down those self-deprecating intrusive thoughts once he realises he really is a hero after all. The “Vulnerable” is capitalised not because it’s the beginning of a sentence, since “With Friends” is, too, but rather because those two are the only descriptors being applied to the “hero” that are actually true about Kaito. Really, he’s just a vulnerable hero with friends, which is something I think we can all agree on.

Now to go chapter-by-chapter for some more specific thoughts about my ideas behind each one.

Chapter 0

This chapter isn’t strictly necessary since it’s not part of Kaito’s character arc, but I felt it’d be useful to include to help establish the stakes, in terms of why it makes sense that Kaito needs to hold on for quite a while to protect his sidekicks from being killed, and yet his sidekicks can also be the ones to come and save him without being killed once enough time has passed. (I really love how my cult-takedown AU just naturally lent itself to me getting the best of both worlds here. I didn’t think of the torture scenario until after solidifying this AU in my head, so this was just a lucky coincidence.)

It was also nice to get Shuichi and Maki’s perspective on things to help establish the basic principles of the fic that it’s going to take Kaito six chapters of torture to figure out himself. Is Kaito invincible? Of course not. If he’s not, does that mean he can’t protect his sidekicks? Of course not. I figured it might help readers who aren’t familiar with all of my analysis about Kaito’s hero issues to be given a sense that that’s the angle I’m taking here.

Plus it was neat to show Shuichi and Maki both having their own much faster shift in perspective on this. Shuichi would have answered yes to that first question and Maki to the second question before this scene happened. But they each had one piece of the puzzle from the beginning, which is more than can be said for Kaito.

Not that they knew how much of an idiot Kaito was about this, mind you. They assumed he was perfectly healthily aware of these concepts himself, because they had no reason to believe he wouldn’t be. They knew he’d be suffering, but it didn’t even cross their minds that the worst part of it for him would be the near-destruction of his self-esteem. In chapter 7, when Shuichi hears Kaito say “I didn’t let you down,” and “I’m still a hero,” he’s bewildered and concerned by the implication that Kaito had ever thought those things might not be true. (It’s okay, though; Kaito will be willing to actually talk about it to them at some point during his recovery, so they’ll come to understand.)

This is chapter 0 and not chapter 1 because it felt right to have the real “start” of the fic be with Kaito himself. This fic is after all entirely about his character arc, and the Shuichi and Maki bit is more just a bonus. Unfortunately, AO3 apparently cannot comprehend the concept of prologues (I don’t understand why they’ve never accounted for this; prologues are a perfectly common thing in fic-writing as far as I’m aware), so this makes the chapter numbering kind of awkward on there. I could have just thrown up my hands and accepted the numbers AO3 wanted to give my chapters, but no, screw that, I spent two months thinking of the chapters by my numbers and I refuse to stop doing that just because some silly website hasn’t heard of the number zero.

(If anyone knows how to get this to work properly on AO3, please tell me. I did try manually messing with the “chapter number” field in the chapter-submission page, but that ended up screwing up the order in which the chapters were displayed, which, nope, that’s even worse.)

Chapter 1

I chose a relatively straightforward torture method to start things off with, because this scene was less about pushing Kaito’s mental deterioration and more about just establishing the baseline of his stubborn posturing and insistence that he’s an invincible hero in its purest form before there begin to be many cracks in it. That said, there’s still some psychological stuff getting to Kaito a bit here, aside from the generally terrifying (nope, not terrifying at all, what are you talking about, Kaito is a hero) realisation that he’s about to be tortured.

It may seem like an odd choice that I let Kaito wake up unrestrained, and I must admit that the idea of him waking up and panicking as he finds himself already tied up did seem fun in some ways. But it was very on purpose that I left him free to start out with, because that gave Kaito the sense that he should have been able to escape and not let any of this happen at all. If only he’d been stronger and more of an action hero, he totally could have taken out all five cultists and made a break for it, couldn’t he? Not managing to do that is Kaito’s first small sign in here that he’s not that good of a hero, actually. Sure, he knows that he’s massively outnumbered and the chances were really slim, so he’s not really that consciously upset with himself about it, but the subconscious sense of failure is still there. If he’d been tied up from the start, there’d have been none of that, and it’d have been much more obvious that it’s not his fault and he simply couldn’t do anything.

The kickings were also very much a part of this. Those aren’t a proper structured part of the torture, the kind of thing Kaito can basically expect from this situation; they’re just casual cruelty from his captors, hurting him not even because they need to but simply because they can. The first one wasn’t quite so bad because at the time Kaito felt like it was a retaliation to his attempt to escape, as if he was just paying the natural price for his recklessness not succeeding. But the second one, which came out of nowhere just to make a point, really drove home the horrible sense that they can do anything they want to him in here and there is nothing he can do to stop it. It’s not like these kickings physically hurt any more than the upcoming beating was going to, but they got under Kaito’s skin a lot more than the beating did, and far more than he’d ever admit this early on. (Though he does finally briefly allude to it in the depths of chapter 6.)

Like I said in part 1 of this, I was on a mission to make Kaito feel helpless in every way I could think of. He’s not really consciously thinking about it or tearing himself down that much yet, but this is already beginning to wear at him beneath the surface.

Chapter 2

Somewhat inspired by some articles I’d read about the phenomenon of learned helplessness (hence me referencing that in this chapter), I had the basic idea of some kind of restraints that inflict more pain on the captive the harder they struggle to escape from them, with the intent of eventually making them give up trying. Put Kaito in something like that and he would absolutely stubbornly torture himself with it for hours without his captors even having to lift a finger. I just had to; it was too perfect for the kind of person he is, and so good for creating the first big dent in his confidence when he fails to escape it and inevitably starts to feel more and more hesitant to even try.

I was originally envisaging it taking two or three “rest” chapters of Kaito fully throwing himself at this contraption and getting noticeably more tired and hesitant to do so each time until he gives up. But as I streamlined the plan (in an attempt to not make this any more ridiculously drawn-out or repetitive than it needed to be), this got cut down to basically just this chapter, with him barely even trying at all in chapter 4.

Good thing, then, that Kaito is so counterproductively overly-stubborn that it really only did take one spectacularly self-destructive session for him to be traumatised enough to never want to do that to himself again. (And, again, that’s less from just the pain alone – this probably didn’t hurt any significantly more than the beatings before or after it – and more from the horrible sense of helplessness it gave him along with that.) If he’d been more accepting of the idea that this is obviously going to take him a while and he needed to pace himself, maybe this would have needed multiple sessions to wear him down into giving up.

But nope, no way Kaito’s going to accept any kind of compromise like that. It’s never going to occur to him that stopping before he reaches his limit rather than pushing himself way too far past it, or, god forbid, not even taking the bait at all, is by far the better option. A more sensible person would be able to see that that’s strategically saving his strength for when he knows he’s going to need it, and it’s not even giving up when he knows his sidekicks are coming for him in the end. But Kaito’s definition of a hero can’t afford to do any of those things. Heroes have unlimited strength, and they certainly don’t need anyone else to save them.

Kaito feeling this way about this is just putting himself in a horrendous lose-lose situation: even if he somehow happened to choose not to torture himself pointlessly (or rather, when he does that in chapter 4), he’ll instead be taking the psychological hit of feeling like he’s lost. There is no winning here, not if you’re Kaito. Which, again, is why a contraption like this was perfect and I just had to do this to him.

Shout-outs to a scene in the Breaking Bad movie El Camino for inspiring this contraption, by the way – I edited it significantly to better suit my purposes, but that gave me a foundation to start from. I liked this idea more than just some sort of basic electroshock-triggered-by-pulling-against-chains mechanism that I’d been vaguely envisaging at first, because being physically dragged across the floor gives far more of that visceral sense of helplessness that I needed to inflict so much of on Kaito.

…And, uh, thankfully, it also made sense that the child-slave assassin cult might already have a contraption like this for other reasons, because it would have been a bit much to buy that they built something that elaborate just for Kaito. My original plan for this scene mentioned the device being used on the kids but otherwise didn’t have that big of a focus on Kaito initially trying to escape it on their behalf – he was mostly supposed to throw himself into it on his own behalf. I guess I just hadn’t properly thought about that enough during planning, since the kids weren’t the reason I created the contraption. Thankfully, when I was actually writing the scene, my mental simulation of Kaito became exactly as horrified and furious about what’d been done to those kids as Kaito should, and I let him run with that, because that was far more fun and far more Kaito than him only really thinking about himself.

(This never happened to Maki in particular, though. The fact that she “willingly” volunteered herself meant she was never desperate enough to escape that they needed to do this to her.)

Chapter 3

At one point while brainstorming possible ideas, I was hit with the thought of Kaito finding out that his lead torturer was the same person who trained and tortured Maki. I had some fun imagining Kaito’s reaction to that and a hypothetical back-and-forth exchange between him and the torturer about the awful things he’d put Maki through. Except then I realised that having this conversation, fiercely standing up for Maki and calling out her abuser’s awfulness, was giving Kaito way too much emotional strength – and as fun as that was, I couldn’t let him have that, not when I was trying to erode that emotional strength of his as fast as possible.

So then it occurred to me: maybe his torturer could also realise that having this hero-versus-villain confrontation would give Kaito strength, and so he deliberately completely blanks Kaito’s attempts at this, entirely refusing to engage with him and give him what he wants. That’d deflate the strength Kaito was trying to get from it and result in him feeling even more powerless and useless, excellent!

This incidentally meant that Kaito needed to realise that his torturer was Maki’s trainer by chance, without the torturer actually being the one to bring it up and tell him. This was when I realised that I’d need to give this guy a name, even if it was just an alias. It needed to be a Japanese name, and I’m not familiar enough with Japanese names to be comfortable just picking a random surname in case it had a meaning or connotation that didn’t fit at all. Therefore, I figured (especially since it’s an alias and not his real name), screw it, why not deliberately make it meaningful – and the best way I could think to do that was through the kabuki theme.

I’d already looked into the significance of the kabuki pattern on Kaito’s shirt and the meaning of red (hero) versus blue (villain) a while back, upon realising thanks to this post that that was why that pattern was there. I could not believe that I’d been fixating on Kaito for like a year and a half at the time while being completely unaware of such a delightful detail about his character design – so I guess I wanted to make up for lost time or something by making such a point of it in this fic. That’s why I went and had Kaito’s torturers be thematically-conveniently wearing kabuki-villain-makeup masks to contrast his shirt, giving Kaito an extra excuse to think of this as an overly-simplistic Hero Versus Villain thing that he is therefore totally going to win because heroes always do.

So in order to come up with a name for the “villain” here, I looked into that a bit more. I spent a while looking up famous kabuki plays on Wikipedia, and after a false start in which I was looking at totally the wrong style of kabuki theatre – turns out it’s only a certain style that even uses that makeup – I found a famous play in the overexaggerated-makeup-style called “Shibaraku!”, which turned out to be hilariously appropriate. The hero of the play is apparently the “stereotypical bombastic hero” of kabuki theatre, who shows up in the nick of time to stop a prince and a princess from being wrongfully executed (cough cough, he’s saving two people, a guy and a girl, from an undeserved certain death, how very fitting). He monologues lengthily about his supernatural powers that he just randomly has because of course he’s that cool, proves that the villain has unlawfully usurped the throne and gets him to back down just by using words, and then there’s a gratuitous fight scene at the end in which he effortlessly takes out all the villain’s henchmen anyway, solely to show off his awesome superpowers. I absolutely could not with how perfect a match this was to the kind of over-the-top invincible hero Kaito thinks he needs to be, and so I just had to name Takehira after the villain from that play.

And ultimately, the fact that I’d given him a name that Kaito could think of him by for the rest of the fic meant that this was kind of the point at which Takehira started to take shape in my head as an actual character, rather than just an empty placeholder inflicting this torture on Kaito because someone had to do it. I think that was definitely a good thing for the fic… though I can’t believe that as a result I now technically have a Danganronpa OC who is a manipulative child-torturing asshole. How. How did it come to this.

The actual torture method for this chapter wasn’t inspired by anything in particular; I just used my imagination to add some variations to the regular beating that’d give Kaito more of that all-important visceral sense of helplessness. Again, this was conveniently something the cult might be used to doing, since it happened to fit Maki’s description of what’d been done to her quite well. I guess I also now have a very weirdly specific headcanon of exactly what Maki is talking about in her third FTE.

Chapters 1 and 3 both fade to black in the middle of the torture sessions, and then the next chapters cut back in once it’s over and Kaito’s resting. This was mostly just a decision I made early on out of what was essentially writerly laziness. I knew things were going to go on for long enough that it wasn’t remotely reasonable to cover all of it directly, but my writing style focuses so much on just writing things directly as they happen that I find it difficult to get less direct and more summary-ish in order to imply things happening while a large amount of time passes. I managed it in chapters 2 and 5 and kind of 6 here, so apparently I can do it when I need to, but in the planning stages, the thought of doing that was daunting enough that I just tried to avoid it whenever possible by taking the lazy way out and using a scene break.

I lamented later, after I’d started writing and my scene plans were too finalised to change, that it could have been fun to write Kaito’s physical and emotional reactions to the end of these beatings: after the pain had built up so much and become more and more overwhelmingly hard to bear, his desperate relief at realising that it’s finally over (for now) and he’s going to be able to just rest. There’d have been a lot of weakness and vulnerability from him in those moments that he’d have had a difficult time hiding.

But then again, while this was completely unintentional of me and just born from my hang-ups as a writer, maybe there’s also something fun about the fact that I never showed that vulnerability. As soon as he could once he was resting, Kaito would have mentally pulled himself back together and convinced himself that he never really felt that weak and vulnerable towards the end of the beatings, nope, that just didn’t happen at all. So not showing that vulnerability and only jumping back into Kaito’s inner monologue after he’s managed to paper over it is perhaps an appropriate way to go about this, given the way I’d been pointedly having the narration only directly mention things that Kaito was letting himself think about in general. It really didn’t ever happen, see!? Kaito is still basically fine!

Chapter 4

My idea for this chapter was for it to appear to be setting itself up to be another chapter in which Kaito tortures himself trying to escape the contraption – and then he just… doesn’t, because he’s too hurt and exhausted, not to mention legitimately traumatised from how awful an ordeal it ended up being the last time he tried. And because he’s telling himself that he should be trying to escape, expecting himself to go at it again, he ends up feeling like he’s failing, even though all he’s really doing is making the sensible decision to take the chance to rest and not torture himself unnecessarily. He knows his sidekicks are coming for him, so he’s not really giving up at all, but he feels like he is.

I therefore originally thought of this as actually being just a rest chapter that pushes Kaito’s mental deterioration along a bit more, but in which he isn’t actually being tortured for once (aside from the one time he triggers the contraption). However, as I was writing it, I realised how awful it is to not be able to sleep properly when you’re exhausted and desperately need to (which is precisely why the cable was left higher this time so he couldn’t even sit down), and that that’s definitely a type of torture too. So, whoops, guess this is still a chapter in which Kaito is being tortured after all. He gets absolutely no real chances to rest here. (He would have done if he hadn’t taken the bait in chapter 2, but.)

This was also supposed to be the halfway point of the fic, and it still kind of is in a narrative sense, but in terms of length? Ahaha, not quite.

Chapter 5

My general brainstorming had already given me the idea of Kaito stubbornly declaring that his sidekicks are on a lengthy series of different planets upon being repeatedly asked where they are, as both a coping mechanism and a fuck-you to his torturers. This idea also included the notion of him eventually running out of planets not because he didn’t know any more, but just because the pain got too overwhelmingly much for him to think straight, leading him to be unable to deny that this was getting to him and beat himself up about that, spurring his transition into phase 2 of his character arc. At first I was just vaguely imagining this happening without a specific torture method to go with it, but I decided on the water torture for it in the end. This particular method gives convenient regular intervals in which Kaito can give his series of planets and long periods in between in which he can be stubbornly distracting himself with space facts. But most importantly, it’s a torture method which is less about pain and more about fear, aka the exact thing I needed to force Kaito into finally acknowledging he was feeling.

Another shout-out goes to a scene from the How to Train Your Dragon book series (a series I highly recommend in general) for making me realise the potential inherent in water torture. I knew “water torture” was a thing but had never quite understood how you could torture someone with water or why it was awful and terrifying until reading that scene. If it wasn’t for that, this chapter would have been something entirely different and probably less fun.

Also, can you believe that the mirror wasn’t even a part of this scene until quite late into the planning? I’d pictured Kaito being able to look straight at Takehira while above water in order to stubbornly yell at him about space, except I realised that wouldn’t work when, whoops, sinks are generally against walls. Then I realised that sinks often come with mirrors on said wall and that would work. Then I realised that Kaito would also be able to see far more interesting and relevant things in a mirror than just Takehira’s mask, and that this would also be perfect for pushing Kaito into admitting how weak he (supposedly) is. So that part happened kind of completely by accident.

Because of the fact that I’d been picturing Takehira as standing opposite Kaito until I realised the sink would be against the wall, he also wasn’t originally the one holding Kaito underwater. It was only after I’d written the scene without it that I realised, wait a minute, of course Takehira should be the one doing that to Kaito personally; it’s way better that way (he’s the one Kaito is specifically thinking about trying to win against, after all) than if it’s just one of the random mooks. The one stepping on Kaito’s face at the beginning of the chapter also wasn’t originally Takehira until I realised that that obviously made the most sense and had the most impact. Can’t believe I missed both of those obvious choices in the planning. I guess I was still figuring out Takehira’s character as I went along.

Since Kaito ended up so viscerally traumatised in particular by Takehira grabbing his hair, and since that’d have been a lot less possible if Kaito had still had the hairstyle, can we talk about how I completely accidentally foreshadowed this in my original cult takedown AU post? Maki told Kaito to ditch the hairstyle, so he… stuck his head under some water for a couple of minutes. That time it was a shower and he could breathe just fine, but still. (I edited in the interjection about how there must be a downside to it later, after having written enough of the fic to have decided it was canon that he ironically said that in mock-indignation while never genuinely believing there would be one. But everything else about that bullet point was written before I’d even remotely started wanting to write this fic and conceiving this chapter’s events.)

Obviously I had to do some research about SPACE for this chapter, because Kaito would definitely be reciting accurate Space Facts. Originally he was only going to be listing planets, starting with the solar system and then moving onto exoplanets. Except, just like Kaito awkwardly remembered once he got to Proxima Centauri b, I learned during my research that actually there aren’t really any other exoplanets with unique names, so that option was kind of a bust. Then I remembered that there’s a ton of moons in the solar system with unique names, so I figured Kaito would go for those too and started looking those up. (Takehira wasn’t surprised when Kaito moved onto Phobos and Deimos because he’d read Kaito’s public Hope’s Peak file and knew he was the Ultimate Astronaut, so he was expecting Kaito to do something like that. But the henchmen hadn’t been told that fact, hence why they were surprised. Still, this was probably not the weirdest impromptu coping mechanism they’d seen from one of their torture victims.)

Then I saw during my research that Saturn’s moons included Atlas and Prometheus, and I just couldn’t resist the gratuitous-self-referencing potential. See an ask reply from earlier for more of my thought process with this bit. This was also the moment I realised that Pandora was such a great fit for Maki – I basically just looked at all the feminine-named moons of Saturn in the hope that one of them would fit her because I really wanted to do this shameless-symbolism thing and didn’t want to leave Maki out of it, and luckily I found one. (The reason I brought this up kind of out of nowhere when a slightly less recent ask related to my P4 AU gave me an excuse to do so was very much because it was going to be in the fic and I wanted people to potentially be able to get the reference if they cared.)

Knowing the well-known moons for each planet makes it possible to count just how many times Kaito would have been forced to the brink of drowning here. It was three times before he started the space thing, then he did space, the moon, Mercury to Pluto (minus Earth), Phobos, Deimos, Europa, Io, Callisto, Ganymede, Titan, Enceladus, Titania, Oberon, Triton, Charon, Proxima Centauri b, the Andromeda Galaxy, like four other galaxies, Kerberos, Styx, Nix, Hydra, Pandora, Prometheus, Atlas, then five or so more times before Takehira realises he still isn’t breaking and gives up. That all adds up to something a little over forty times Kaito had to endure that. He is so strong, and his space-facts coping mechanism genuinely helped so much in that it meant he was only consciously terrified for a small fraction of it all.

I also did a little bit of rather more hands-on research for this chapter, namely holding my breath for as long as I could to get an idea of how to describe what it feels like when it seems as if you can’t possibly hold it any more, since I had to describe that quite a lot. And I may have also filled a sink with water and stuck my face in it a few times to get a sense of the physical sensations one would be most immediately conscious of when that happens. (Don’t worry; this was emphatically not done at the same time as holding my breath for as long as I absolutely could. In fact, I found my brain automatically making me surface much sooner than I’d expected to need to, leading to the conclusion that, damn, water torture must be even more horrendously awful than I’d imagined and Kaito is amazing for being able to endure it for so long.)

So if I ever get asked, as an author, “what’s the weirdest research you’ve ever done for a story?” – well, now I have a very good answer.

Chapter 6

There was also some hands-on research done for this one, involving lying on the floor, folding my arms behind my back, trying to keep my ankles together and then seeing how easy it was to move around in that position. Answer: it’s really difficult and awkward even when you’re not horribly injured and in a lot of pain, so Kaito must have had a great time.

And my final shout-out for torture method inspiration goes to Danganronpa V3 itself, of course. There’s canonically a poison that inflicts horrible pain and is explicitly used to torture people for information? Excellent. All I needed was a quick handwave as to why it won’t kill Kaito here despite being explicitly lethal in canon – which really is just a bonus because that means that the pain can get even worse and last even longer than it would normally – and I was good to go. You may have noticed that I had Kaito be injected with Strike-9 in his left arm, aka exactly where Maki’s poisoned arrow hit him in another universe. …Honestly it’s kind of impractical for them to have injected him in the arm when the ropes would have made the poison’s circulation from there way slower (though I guess we could pretend that was meant to be the point). I might have otherwise gone for Kaito being injected in the neck – easier to access and much more viscerally unpleasant – but screw it, I wanted the parallel to how he was poisoned by Strike-9 in canon, sue me.

For this chapter, I needed a torture method that’d really push Kaito into being convinced that he absolutely couldn’t take it, and that’d let him see just how amazing he was being when he realised that he still could. So it seemed appropriate to use this one, in which the only real limit to how painful it could get was my imagination – and I like to think I’ve got a pretty good one of those. (And, for that matter, Kaito’s imagination let him become incredibly scared of it before it’d even remotely reached its full effects on him. Because he’s so scared already, he’s imagining the absolute worst, which he’d never have done until he was in phase 2. That helped, too.)

Although, I say I could just use my imagination here, but I actually based this quite a bit on some more research I did. (This fic required more research than probably every other fic I’ve ever written combined; I guess I just don’t usually write about stuff that requires particularly specialist knowledge.) I looked into the effects of strychnine, the real-life horribly painful poison that Strike-9 is named after and loosely based on. …Well, technically it’s only named after it in the game’s localisation – in Japanese it’s just called “lethal torture poison”, a fact I also referenced in-fic – but it does still seem to be based on strychnine either way based on a comment Kokichi makes about finding it harder to breathe, which is indeed the usual way that strychnine kills somebody.

Since fictional Strike-9 is not exactly the same anyway (real strychnine does not have an antidote), I knew I could take some liberties, such as with the non-lethality handwave drug, but I still got inspiration for quite a few of its effects on Kaito from things I’d read about strychnine. One of the biggest effects of strychnine appears to be painful muscle spasms, which admittedly doesn’t seem to fit with canon Strike-9 based on the fact that neither Kaito nor Kokichi are ever shown spasming while under its effects. I dealt with that minor detail by deciding it was possible to consciously hold down the spasms up to a certain point – but also that doing so still hurts anyway, of course, because what would be the point if it didn’t.

It was also appropriate, given that this was when Kaito’s self-loathing was at its absolute peak, that this was a kind of torture that essentially felt to Kaito like it wasn’t even being inflicted on him by the torturers (even though he knew it was) and was just coming from inside him. So it was almost as if everything making Kaito suffer here was all from himself. Having him not be distracted by what the torturers were doing to him from the outside here also made it easy for him to get as introspective as I wanted him to. These aspects were actually unplanned; it was just a happy coincidence that the torture method I’d already chosen for this happened to work so well in these ways, too.

My friend antialiasis deserves credit for the part later in the chapter where Kaito’s realisation that he’s still a hero sends him into a weird triumphant euphoria that actually makes the pain go away for a bit. She proposed that while we were throwing ideas around in the conversation that sparked off me realising this’d be a really fun fic to write. Or, well, most of the conversation was me throwing ideas at her and her going “yes good” – but this one was hers, and I liked it a lot so I included it. It seemed so right that, upon Kaito finally realising how proud he deserved to be of himself, that feeling should have a real tangible impact on him despite all the pain.

Chapter 7

At first, my ideas of how Kaito would eventually be rescued were rather vague and… sort of unsatisfying? Not that Kaito didn’t absolutely need to be reunited with his friends, of course, both for the cathartic relief of everything finally being over, and to explore how he was now comfortable showing vulnerability in front of them. But it seemed kind of narratively awkward that he’d gone through so much hell to finally learn how being a hero really worked, only for his friends to then come along and end things in a way that was completely unrelated to the psychological conflict and character arc that he’d been having.

My original vague scenario for the rescue was something like Maki bursting into the room where Kaito’s being held and taking out his torturers to free him. Then I considered that if Maki and Shuichi were coming as part of a big government raid, the torturers might have already rushed out to try and deal with that as soon as it got there, leaving Kaito tied up and alone and hoping for someone to find him (especially if he’s still in need of an antidote, which I’m pretty sure was one of my ideas at that point). But then it occurred to me that, wait, if they were going to deal with the raid, then wouldn’t it make the most sense for the cultists to want to use Kaito as a hostage, knowing he’s important to Shuichi and Maki?

Which at first was a big problem, because I couldn’t quite see a way for Kaito to get out of that situation alive, and yet I refused to imagine an end to this story in which he didn’t. I came up with the way he got out of it purely in a desperate attempt to let him survive somehow (having concluded that the hostage situation really was the most likely way for events to unfold and it’d be kinda contrived for it to not happen at all). And it just so happened, purely by accident, that this escape method I’d come up with involved Kaito feigning weakness, something he’d never have dreamed of doing at the beginning before his character development – which suddenly made the rescue finally feel narratively satisfying. Kaito was saved not just by unrelated outside factors that would have happened anyway, but because of something he did thanks to what he’d learned from his character arc (while still not having been able to do it without his friends’ help, which he’d also learned to be okay with!).

And it was around this point that I started to seriously decide I was going to write this fic. It was finally starting to come together and feel like more than just some fun hypotheticals that were interesting to self-indulgently think about, but also an actual satisfying story that really deserved to be written.

Since I had a detailed outline and could start the actual writing from pretty much any point, the first part I fully wrote was in fact the hug in chapter 7. This was, after all, the Most Important Part that deserved the most passive editing time to give it as much polish as possible. By that, I mean that I’ll often reread bits I wrote just for fun and make small tweaks without consciously thinking of it as an Editing Session – which would usually mean, if I wrote in order, that the end of a thing naturally winds up a bit less polished than the beginning. I didn’t want that for the Very Important Hug, so I wrote it first on purpose to avoid that.

And while I was never not having immense fun writing this, sometimes it would also get a bit emotionally exhausting to write the more brutal torture parts while so deep in Kaito’s head. So it was nice to be able to wind down from a writing session like that by reading over the hug scene and having the catharsis of knowing that Kaito was going to be okay in the end.

Fun with Ctrl+F

The types of words Kaito was willing to use in his inner monologue to describe what he was going through underwent some pretty big shifts as things deteriorated, some of them deliberate on my part and some just unconscious. And, thanks to AO3’s feature of loading all chapters of the fic on one page, and my browser’s word-search feature putting a marker on the scroll bar at each instance of the searched word, I can get some data that actually visualises the distribution of certain key words throughout the fic.

So what the hey, let’s take a look at some of this. You want graphs? I have graphs. Sort of.

The grey bars are a screenshot of my scroll bar, with the yellow markers on them being instances of that word. Also with indicators to separate the chapters, and to mark where I consider each of the three key phases in Kaito’s character arc (discussed in the previous post) to shift into the next. (Daaaaamn though how did chapters 5 and 6 end up so long. Also I told you phase 1 was the longest one; it’s about as long as phases 2 and 3 combined.)

Pain: 110 words Hurt: 54 words

As you can see, Kaito spends the first chapter and a half – more like chapter and two-thirds, really – definitely not being in any pain at all (or at least, if he is, it’s totally irrelevant and not worthy of mention). But when the pain finally does show up, it’s suddenly all pain all the time with no gradual build-up. Funny, that – almost like it was really all pain all the time from the beginning, too.

It was very freeing once I got past that point in chapter 2 and could finally just have Kaito’s inner monologue say that it hurt whenever I wanted to communicate that fact. Getting that across without directly acknowledging it had been kind of fun, but it’d have driven me mad if it’d gone on for much longer than this.

Chapter 5 is a somewhat less pain-filled chapter than the rest, for obvious reasons. There’s also this interesting patch in the depths of chapter 6 where “hurt” became more common than “pain” for a little while. This wasn’t at all conscious of me, but it might be because “pain” is a slightly more detached way to think about it than an immediate, reactionary “it hurts” – and in the desperate, near-broken state that Kaito was in at that point, he was more likely to be doing the latter.

Agony: 26 words

It was very deliberate of me that the first use of this word was during the hellish near-drowning ordeal that caused Kaito to completely forget Atlas and “lose” his Very Important Space Competition. And then after that point I just let myself use it whenever it felt appropriate, so naturally there’s a lot of it in chapter 6. There were definitely some points earlier than this in which the average person would have described what Kaito was feeling as “agony” – heck, that probably happened as early as chapter 2 – but Kaito was not willing to admit so early on that he was hurting that much. It was only once his mental state had grown weaker that he began to actually describe it that way to himself.

Scream: 33 words

Kaito was a little more willing to admit this one earlier on (though not quite as early as this makes it look – that first one was a scream of rage, which is way more acceptable than a scream of pain, and the second is just his shoulders “screaming” at him in protest and not a sound Kaito made). Actual noises that he physically makes do, after all, have a lot less plausible deniability to them. That said, he had some “piercing yell”s in chapter 2 that most people would have called screams, but nope, they definitely weren’t that, not when he’s totally not even in any remotely significant amount of pain yet.

Scared: 33 words Weak: 32 words

“Scared” isn’t the only fear-related word, but it’s the most common one. And yep, of course this one doesn’t show up until phase 2. (That one in chapter 3 is an outlier; he’s talking about how the cult is scared of Shuichi taking them down.)

It was also deliberate of me to not have Kaito use the word “weak” until phase 2 (the chapter 1 instance is another outlier, talking about the kids and not himself). In fact, I consider the moment he calls himself weak for the first time to be the moment phase 2 begins. Up until then, he’d been doing a lot of questioning how strong he is and worrying he might not be strong enough, but once he starts to outright think of himself as possibly being weak, that’s something that’s him actively failing at being a hero and is a lot harder for him to take back and deny.

But though these two words both show up at around the same time, look at how “scared” is then still used a lot in phase 3 (some of those are about the cultists being scared of him, but plenty are still Kaito’s own fear), whereas “weak” is used a lot less from then on, and never to describe Kaito as actually being weak. While him being scared was always true, him being weak never was, at least not in the sense of weakness that really matters.

Pathetic: 28 words

There are various ways in which Kaito expresses his self-loathing, but this is probably the most common single word that’s always used in that way, so it’s the best way to get us a measure of this. It first appears near the end of chapter 2 but is more scattered earlier on, disappears in chapter 5 while he is in SPACE and obviously Totally Handling It, and then reappears with vicious abandon as he tumbles into phase 2 of his arc. I remember thinking to myself at one point while writing around then, “Kaito, you did not need to call yourself pathetic three times in the same page, calm down.” Turns out it was definitely more than one particular page he was being like that for.

Interestingly, this kind of lessens itself out around when he’s finished his uncontrollable sobbing fit over getting his friends killed. I guess at that point he just couldn’t possibly drag himself any deeper than he already was, and so there was no need for him to be quite so vicious to himself? I’m not sure; this part wasn’t on purpose.

Helpless: 30 words

This one’s honestly kind of less about Kaito’s mental deterioration and opinion of himself. A lot of the time it’s more about the fact that he’s just being externally rendered helpless whether he likes it and would want to agree with it or not. But I was curious as to how many times I used that word: quite a few, it turns out. Still in a somewhat higher concentration during chapter 6, too, as you’d expect.

Tortur: 26 words

(Without the “e” so that the search also catches “torturing”.)

You might expect this one to be used a lot more, since the entire fic is almost nothing but Kaito being tortured. But… most of the time, he doesn’t really like to think about that fact. He’s not precisely lying to himself about it and trying to tell himself he’s not being tortured or anything because that’d be a bit too obviously untrue, so it’ll come up occasionally whenever it’s necessary for him to think that word. But still, he’s trying not to dwell on it.

(Also, fun fact, “waterboarding” is, as antialiasis informed me when she read the fic, a term for a very specific kind of water torture that is not actually what was done to Kaito in chapter 5. However, since it seems that’s a fairly common misconception, I let Kaito have that misconception too and left his line about that as-is, mostly because I didn’t want to change it to “water torture” and have him use the word “torture” again when he didn’t have to.)

The exception here is chapter 6, where that word’s a little bit more frequent than in the other chapters, now that Kaito is openly terrified and can no longer stop himself from freaking out about the fact that he’s being tortured and it’s awful and he doesn’t want any of this. As phase 2 set in, I deliberately had Kaito quietly switch his mental terms for the cultists from “henchmen” or “captors”, to “torturers”. They were his torturers the entire time, obviously, but he only began to actively think of them that way when he could no longer hide from how nightmarish this whole thing was.

Hero: 85 words

Man, Kaito uses that word a lot in this fic. Honestly, this is way more than he’d usually use it – normally it’s a lot more frequent to hear “sidekick” from him than “hero” – but in this instance he is fervently clinging to that concept as the thing that he needs to be, or else. Which is really incredibly unhealthy of him, considering what his standards for living up to that are, up until he figures out what it really means.

There’s considerably less “hero”ing in chapter 5 despite him being very stubbornly Totally Fine for most of that chapter. I mentioned that and the reason for it in part 1 of this author’s commentary, and it’s only because of these Ctrl+F-ing shenanigans of mine that I’d even noticed that.

Sidekick: 34 words

The use of this one has less to do with Kaito’s mental state – except when it vanishes for most of chapter 6 – and is more just because this really is how Kaito will naturally refer to Shuichi and Maki together when not using their names. It still shows up at a lot of the same points that “hero” does, for obvious reasons. And then also in chapter 5 when his sidekicks are in SPACE, even though his mental jury is out at that point on whether or not he’s really a hero.

Friend: 29 words

This word only shows up once Kaito breaks down upon thinking he’s getting his friends killed. Impressively, he then manages to use it almost as many times as he used “sidekick” throughout the entire thing. Which is good. They are his friends and that is Important.

Having him not use the word for most of the fic was deliberate. I’ve talked in one of my commentary posts about the kind-of-heartbreaking fact that Kaito almost never refers to his sidekicks as “friends” and might not even quite realise that’s what they are. So at some point during this fic, along with getting Kaito to realise it’s okay for heroes to be vulnerable, I also wanted him to figure this one out, too. I wasn’t sure exactly when that’d happen, mind you, and just kind of winged it when I saw the best opportunity during the actual writing process. Being broken into believing that he doesn’t even deserve to call them his sidekicks any more and that he’s going to get them killed is, uh, not exactly the happiest way for Kaito to finally realise and fully accept that they’ve always been his best friends, but, well, it got him there.

And most importantly, he kept thinking of them that way even after regaining the ability to think of them as his sidekicks, too. They can be his heroes, sidekicks and best friends all in one.

[chandlerwilde]

My Perception On No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai🥀

🥀

This year has brought me many joys, that have left me with melancholy victories. I have been venturing out of my usual book genres and I've found a selection of well to do books that I simply cannot live without. How I've existed this far without them, I will never know.

There are many different types of literature out there and of course I only focus on English and European Literature. Not because I'm bias  in some way. But I've always found American and European culture very interesting. Despite ignoring my very own culture. It had never occurred to me, that until now, I have never heard of Asian Literature. It's like an unknown phenomenon that no one speaks of. When I think back of my studies in school, I've never even heard of my teachers mentioning Asian writers at all. It was like they didn't exist or people found Asian culture not important enough to read about. Which is odd because in Asian countries they have libraries filled with European novels and American novels. Is it safe to say that Asian people find European and American culture interesting, though we do not share the same feelings toward them.

Nevertheless, I stumbled upon Osamu Dazai after reading a mutual friends post about Vincent Van Gogh. It was a silly meme that consisted of Van Gogh and Osamu talking over their depression. Which is not something to joke about but I must confess I found it humorous. Through that humor, I decided to research Osamu and the rest is history.

So, here is my thoughts on the exceptional book, No Longer Human.

I want to give an in-depth review without giving the book away too much (if at all). But I must warn you that spoilers may become a possibility.

No Longer Human is broken into three parts, including an introduction in the beginning by Donald Keene, as well as a Prologue & Epilogue by Osamu Dazai himself. So, to make things easier to understand, I'm going to review each part individually.

The Introduction

Normally, I would skip this part of the book because at times it can be very boring and bland. But after reading The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johaan Wolfgang Von Goethe, I found it important to read book introductions because they can have valuable information about the writer.

In this section, Donald Keene noted how under appreciated Asian writer are in literature. For some odd reason, American & Europeans cultures specifically seem to feel like we cannot learn anything from Asian culture. Perhaps it has something to do with our history with going to battle with certain Asian countries. Yet, that did not stop countries like Japan and China from filling their liberties with American & European literature. Which upsets me. Had it not been for Van Gogh, I would have missed out on an extremely talented writer. I'm not sure who is to blame for this but I find the idea of not representing Asian writers outside of manga is shameful and sad. There is more to their culture than just that. However, as a whole our world only views Asian people in a small and certain light, that barely gives them any kind of positive recognition outside of the obvious stereotypes.

In short, I really urge everyone to take time and read the introduction and share your thoughts on Keene's and my views. What do you think and why is Asian literature so lost and underrepresented? Why do Asian writers rather be on the bottom of American top writing lists, than the top of Asian writer lists? It is very interesting.

🥀

The Prologue

In this section, you learn of how Ōba Yōzō (aka Dazai himself) feels alienated and very much of a misfit. He tells you how all of his life he has worn a mask to hid his true sensitive and self destructive self. He harshly criticizes himself and informs you of how he feels about the nature of "humans" and how he never felt like one, thus making him believe that he is not.

I like this part of the novel because I can relate to it in so many ways. Many things he explained and said is how I felt (and still very much feel) about myself. Not only of my appearance and state of being but also without people. We both share the same reflection on our confidence or lack there of as a child. I shared his thoughts on normality being ugly and being bland and not standing out is worse than being ugly or beautiful. He even goes on to explain that death has more of a soul or an expression than him.

The ugly/void he felt as a child (as well as his whole life) has manifested into a visible void, that crept from his inner darkness and it carries a bland look.

Which to me speaks volumes.

🥀

The First Notebook

Unable to cope with the world around him, Ōba begins to become a jokester and class clown, in order to mask away the alienation that he feels. He engages in planned fails and acts as if he has no clue as to what he does. He tells us of his environment at home. His father always being gone on business and his mother he did not mention much. He speaks of his maids/servants mistreating him, but he never reported them because he sees it as pointless.

We also learn he views a "human" as someone who is happy and hopeful. Perhaps, attractive in some way and could possibly have a great deal or comfortable amount of money. Which is strange because his family were quite wealthy and well known. He speaks of how he feels his life is a shame and the life of a "human" was not cut out for him.

There is much more to be said here but I do not wish to spoil everything. I still want readers to get a wow factor from this book, without knowing every details and topic.

🥀

The Second Notebook

A very key factor in this part is that Ōba is caught by another student named Takeichi who suspects and confronts him on faking his fall during "gym" class. This sends Ōba into a manic behavior and he somewhat becomes obsessed with Takeichi and fears that he will expose him for being a fraud. I found this interesting given Takeichi had no intention on exposing Ōba or telling anyone about his opinions on his stunts. Certain things happens and the two become somewhat of friends and Takeichi began to mention things to Ōba that were predicting and in a way life changing for Ōba.

Ōba also finds an strong interest in art, which leads him to start painting.

Ōba also becomes apart of a communist group and becomes a respectable member. Though, he does not share their same views and is only there because he views them as misfits.

In this section, a young man now, Ōba meets someone by the name of Horiki. Horiki is also a college student but exposes Ōba into an unfortunate and dreadful life cycles, that pleasures and destroys him further.

He also tries to commit suicide with a woman named Tsuneko, who dies but he does not. This even tears him apart and causes his family to the verge of disowning him.

🥀

The Third Notebook: Part One

Ōba begans to have multiple affairs with different women, from different walks of life. He becomes a heavy drinker and is expelled from college. He becomes too focus on self destruction, he was not able to create or focus on his artwork. He tries to quite smoking and drinking. But struggles terribly.

He marries a young girl, who tries to encourage him to stop drinking and for awhile it works. And for a moment Ōba is happy. The two both marry and move in together.

🥀

The Third Notebook: Part Two

Working as a cartoon and sober, Ōba feels somber toward marriage life. He thinks of his wife as native and innocent. But he falls into bad habits once he is visited by an old friend named Horiki, who (with Ōba) witnesses Ōba's wife being sexually assaulted by an associate friend.

Ōba begins to blame himself, as well as his wife and becomes manic and fills himself with alcohol and is committed into a mental hospital. After leaving his wife for another woman.

This parts ends with him being brought to a home that his brother purchased for him and given the money he needed for living and personal interest. Ōba is left feeling empty and recounts his choices and views of hisself.

🥀

Epilogue

We are then given the prospective of an outsider, who wanted to meet Ōba but fails. He then meets a friend of Ōba and she gives him the three notebooks. The man is intrigued by the notebooks and decides to publish them. We are left with a reflects of Ōba's friend telling us that he was a kind and gentle soul, who made everyone laugh and smile.

🥀

My Final Thoughts

I believe this is one of the greatest books that I have read. I love the rawness of this book and I adore how the events were true. I feel that Osamu Dazai was a great writer and his death is very unfortunate. I find the way he told his life very interesting and beautiful and poetic. I wish I was able to meet him and praise him for being an amazing artist and writer. But the result would probably remain the same. There is so much that we can learn from Osamu and his life. His perception on life and people is very interesting and a very rare viewpoint on life.

I highly suggest that everyone checkout this novel and spread the works of Asian Literature.

Thanks For Listening.

-𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓻 𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓮

Chandler Wilde

[fallen-imagine-angel]

Arranged Marriages & Forbidden Love - Chapter 3

Notes: Here’s chapter 3 of AM&FL! I hope you guys enjoy it. Please like/comment/reblog because it really does help! And Steve Harrington requests are still open! Thank you!

Summary: You throw a college acceptance party and there are a few twists in store for your night.

Arranged Marriages & Forbidden Love - Chapter 3

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 3,324

Warnings: underage drinking, small sexual harassment, angst & fluff

| Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

You’re back at the compound the next morning, faced with your very angry billionaire father. Things have been worse.

“Dad, hear me out--” You try to reason with him but he won’t hear it.

“No, you went behind my back deliberately and applied for Harvard! I told you that you were going to stay here and do an online college while I prepare you to take over the business.” Tony slams his fist down on the table. He doesn’t like it when you’re rebellious.

Unfortunately, you’re rebellious quite often.

“I’m going to Harvard whether you like it or not, dad. I’d just rather you be proud of me than disappointed.” You stand your ground, crossing your arms as you stare defiantly at your father. He stares back.

“Fine.” He gives up, knowing he won’t change your mind now. Not when you’ve already made it up.

“Are you still disappointed?” Your face falls, not wanting him to be disappointed in you after you’ve come this far. You’re still going to Harvard, but you want him to be proud of you for getting accepted into such a prestigious college.

“No,” his face softens, “I was just being difficult, as we Starks often are. I’m proud of you, (Y/n/n), I just wanted you home. I suppose we can do training after college, though. I still want you to be happy.” He kisses your forehead. You smile in relief.

“Thanks, dad. I am happy.” You tell him a small little white lie. He won’t notice in the long run.

“I suppose we should throw a party, then! My little girl’s going to Harvard!” He ruffles your hair and walks away, already on the phone with his party planner. You get out your phone and try to call Peter.

No answer.

“Dangit, Pete.” You groan and shove your phone back into your pocket.

“So you convinced your dad to let you go, huh? You’re going to leave me all alone with him for four years?” Harley leans on the wall, surprising you.

“Harley! I didn’t know you were there.” You press a hand to your heart, letting out a sigh. He laughs.

“I can be sneaky when I want to be.” He grins at you, but you see the hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll be back for breaks, I swear.” You smile at him. He holds out his arms for a hug. You hug him tightly.

“I know.” He lays his head on top of yours. You smile and pull away from the hug.

“Now come on, it’s time to plan a party!” You grab his arm and drag him in the direction you saw your dad going.

~+~

A few hours later, the party has been planned. It’s currently being set up and your father has already sent out an invitation to everyone in your class.

You tried to stop him from inviting a few key people like Flash and his posse, but he wouldn’t listen. He claimed that everyone needed to know how amazing you are.

“What’s up, I heard there’s a party.” MJ walks into the kitchen, a piece of toast in her hand.

“Yeah, but it’s not until later tonight--” 

“Doesn’t matter. Best friends help each other get ready, right?” She raises her eyebrows at you and takes a bite of her toast. Harley laughs.

“Right.” You nod. 

“What is it, two hours before the party, now? Yeah, come on, we’ve got to get ready.” She drags you to your room.

“MJ, you’re usually not the type to dress up and stuff.” You point out as she sits you down in front of your vanity.

“Oh, please. I’m not dressing up, I’m dressing you up. Plus, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m pretty good at this stuff.” She scoffs, bringing out your makeup. 

She gets to work on your makeup.

While she’s working on your makeup, Natasha walks into your room.

“You called for me, MJ?” She asks, hand resting on her gun.

“Yeah, are you good with hair? You switch yours up a lot so I thought you might be.” She mumbles, still concentrating on your makeup.

“Yeah. What do you need?” Nat asks. MJ hands Nat her phone. Nat looks at the phone for a few seconds.

“Can you do that?” MJ hums, taking out a red lipstick from your bag.

“Easy.” Nat hands her back the phone and gets to work on your hair. You stay as still as possible.

After almost an hour and a half, they’re finally done.

“Hair and makeup look perfect,” MJ smirks and holds up a mirror to you. You admire your makeup and hair in the mirror, hugging MJ and Nat tightly.

“You guys are the best!” You giggle, running to your closet.

“Have fun, I have to go.” Nat waves and is out in a hurry. You stare at your vast closet, picking what dress you should wear for the party. Then you spot it, at the very back. A red dress with flower embroidery.

“That’s the one,” MJ says immediately once you take the dress out. She grabs a matching pair of heels and throws them at you.

“Go get changed, I’m going to get ready while you do.” She shoves you into your bathroom. You get changed.

You walk out to see her already in her baby blue dress, doing her makeup. She turns around and looks at you, her jaw dropping.

“What do you think?” You ask, looking down at yourself.

“(Y/n), you’re gorgeous. Harley may have some competition.” She laughs, turning around to finish her makeup. You chuckle.

“As much as I wish, I don’t think so.” You sigh, playing with the ends of your hair.

MJ cannot know.

“I thought you were happy with Harley. You always seem happy. I mean, you guys aren’t really dating yet, but still.” MJ locks eyes with you in the mirror. You frown.

“I mean...I’m happy because he’s my best friend, but it’s nothing more. I don’t know.” You shrug, suddenly seeming defeated as you plop down on your bed.

“Well, we’re going to talk about this later, but for now we have a party to attend. Come on, it’ll help you take your mind off things for a bit.” She finishes her makeup, spinning around to help you up. You begrudgingly go with her to the front door as the doorbell rings. 

Harley answers the door and you see Flash and a few of his friends walk in.

Oh, boy.

“I’ll be right back, I gotta use the restroom.” You slip away from MJ into a lesser-used hallway.

You dial Peter’s number

No answer.

“Dangit, Parker!” You sigh and shove your phone back into your clutch. You walk back into the room to find a few more people already there. MJ spots you and walks over.

“Drink?” She holds out what looks like a margarita.

“Where’d you get this?” You quirk an eyebrow, taking the drink. You’d probably sip on this one drink the entire night, to be honest. You’ve always been careful around drinking because of your dad’s old habits.

“I dunno, I guess your dad accidentally left the alcohol cabinet behind the bar unlocked.” MJ winks. You smile lightly.

“Right.” You nod, rolling your eyes playfully. 

An hour later, the party is at a high. Everyone’s drinking and having fun. Except for you.

All you can think about is Peter. Is he okay? Why won’t he answer his calls? Is he upset at you?

All of these questions and more are rolling through your mind. 

“(Y/n), lighten up a bit! Have a drink!” A random kid in your class punches your shoulder like he’s known you your entire life.

“No.” You push him away. He turns around, not affected by the rejection, and goes to find another girl to harass.

You’re about to leave the room when you see a familiar mop of brown hair walk through your front door.

��Peter?” You gasp, trying to get a better look over the crowd. Sure enough, Peter is walking toward you with a significantly less sad look in his eye than the look he had the day before.

“Is that Peter?” MJ asks, walking up next to you. You nod.

“(Y/n)--” Peter finally arrives in front of you and MJ, a smile on his face.

“Spit it out, Parker.” MJ raises an eyebrow.

“It was a mistake. I made it into Harvard. They sent me the wrong letter.” He wheezes out, a large smile decorating his face. You gasp.

“Oh my gosh, Peter, that’s amazing!” You hug him tightly. He laughs and hugs back, lifting you into the air briefly.

“We’re going to be college buddies after all!” He hollers, finally breaking from the hug. You grin and get an idea, running to the stage.

“I’d like everyone’s attention, please. I have an announcement to make,” you wait until everyone’s eyes are on you, “Peter Parker will be joining me at Harvard, so this is now a party for the both of us!”

Everyone, even the people who don’t like Peter, cheers his name. You smile and walk back to him and MJ.

“Thanks, (Y/n/n).” Peter nudges your arm.

“No problem, college buddy.” You giggle. MJ grins.

“You know, (Y/n), you look, *hic* you look really pretty tonight.” Flash slides up next to you, the smell of alcohol sending you reeling.

“Oh my gosh, Flash, you reek.” You cough, swatting his hand away.

“Why, thank you.” He grins, taking your hand.

“Get away from her, Flash.” Peter tries to intervene, to no avail.

“What’s it to you, Puny Parker? You’ve already got a girlfriend.” He waves dismissively at Peter. Peter’s about to talk back but you send him a look.

You’re a strong independent woman who can deal with creepy guys on your own.

“Flash, get off of me.” You demand as Flash goes to grab your other hand.

“Dude, she said to get off of her.” Harley comes up behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You sigh.

“Oh yeah? And who are you to stop me?” Flash grins slyly, thinking he has the upper hand.

“I’m her boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Four voices chime in unison. You, MJ, Flash, and Peter all stare incredulously at Harley.

“You heard me. I’m her boyfriend, so get off of her.” Harley shoves Flash away. Flash mumbles something under his breath as he walks away. You’re too shocked to say or do anything else.

First, you look at Peter. He stares back at you, in just as much shock as you are.

You had literally just told him yesterday that Harley’s not your boyfriend.

Harley walks away from the tension first, still angry about Flash. He probably needs to cool down before you talk to him.

“Harley’s your boyfriend? You just said...” Peter asks, an undefinable emotion in his voice. You can’t speak, just open and close your mouth like a fish out of water.

“I think the party’s starting to dwindle...I can take Peter home.” MJ offers, looking over at you. You look at her and nod shakily. Peter can’t look you in the eye anymore.

This whole thing was blown way out of proportion, but the problem is, you don’t know how to fix things this time.

So, you march up to the stage and grab the microphone.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming to my party tonight! It was a blast. I’ll see you all at school!” You plaster on a fake smile as everyone starts bidding each other goodnight.

You watch MJ and Peter leave from the stage, making your smile falter for a split second.

Instead of waiting for the crowd to disperse before you leave, you just go ahead and run to your room. You can’t be bothered with cordialities right now.

As soon as you get to your room, you flop on your bed. No tears come, because this is not something you are willing to cry over. It’s a stupid misunderstanding, nothing more. You’ll fix it in no time, so that means you shouldn’t waste any time crying over it.

After about an hour of sitting in your room and staring at the ceiling in deep thought, there’s a knock on your door. You don’t say anything, but the person opens the door anyway.

“Hey, (Y/n/n)...I’m really sorry about what happened earlier.” Harley walks in with an apologetic look on his face. His hand is rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. 

You sit up.

“Tell me, what made you think that you should have butted into that conversation? I fight crime, Harley, I can handle a hormonal teenage boy.” You remind him, sarcasm thick in your tone.

“I know you can. I just...I didn’t like how he was touching you. I’m your best friend, (Y/n), I want to protect you.” He sighs, dropping his head.

“Harley…” You trail off, looking at his dejected form. Your anger turns to sympathy, he was only trying to do the right thing. He looks up with hope in his eyes.

“Yeah?” He mumbles.

“I forgive you.” You get up and hug him. He melts into your embrace, glad to know that you’re no longer mad at him.

“Thank you.” He whispers, hugging you tighter. After a minute, you both pull away from the hug. 

You lift a hand up to his face and turn his head, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks for saving me, Harley. I know you only had good intentions. You’re my hero.” You pull away from the cheek kiss and smile at him. He smiles back.

“Get some rest, you need it. I’ll see you in the morning.” He ruffles your hair and walks out. 

You sigh and turn around, starting to take down your hair and wipe your makeup off.

You can tell that you’re not going to get a lot of sleep tonight.

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

Tag List: @savedbystark @spiderhemlock13

[pinetasticapple]

A Miraculous Carol: The Prologue of our Tale

Set after the events of "Ladybug". Adrien might be learning to stand up for his friends, but the path of doing the right thing is not as easy as it seems. With his princess fading more and more, can three spirits of the past, present and future help him fix the situation?

AO3    FF

"And in the end, I could have been cast as a very important role in the latest Bond movie. If it wasn't because of my humanitarian work with the orphans, I would have done it in an instant."

Adrien sighed, his head propped on one hand as he listened to what had to be another infamous Lila Rossi lie, with most of the class enthralled by her new tale. He was sure oral presentations had to be about something educational, not whatever Lila was blabbering about.

"And in the end, I could have been cast as a very important role in the latest Bond movie. If it wasn't because of my humanitarian work with the orphans, I would have done it in an instant."

Adrien sighed, his head propped on one hand as he listened to what had to be another infamous Lila Rossi lie, with most of the class enthralled by her new tale. He was sure oral presentations had to be about something educational, not whatever Lila was blabbering about.

Ever since she had returned, it had proven to be difficult to keep up with his school work. Between her lies and being prone to akumatization quite often, Adrien couldn't help but wonder if waiting for her stories to fall was a good idea after all. Her "spontaneous" visits at his home weren't any relief either, where he had to subject himself to tutoring attempts and taking longer showers to wash off the itchiness sensation of having Lila clinging to his space most of the time.

If he had used Plagg's cataclysm in some of those outfits, well, no one but him was going to know.

And to make things worse, now Adrien had to see her during photo shoots. On hindsight, he should have planned better how to deal with that situation. But he was just so mad he didn't think through. If anything, he was surprised Hawkmoth didn't akumatize him from his anger.

He spared a glance to the back of his seat, but the occupant wasn't paying much attention either. Adrien frowned, Marinette's expression was vacant as if her mind was somewhere else.

Things hadn't gone any better or worse with Marinette either. Since that day Marinette hadn't tried to call out Lila as he had strongly suggested, but Adrien noticed how little by little her smiles disappeared. Not only that, but her usual behaviour around him had also changed. Long gone were the stuttering and nervous glances, replaced for vacant staring and polite smiles. He knew about those better, Adrien had to master how to give model smiles, but he missed Marinette's real, bright as a shiny star smile.

Even when he tried to defend her from getting expelled without reason, it hadn't been enough. Adrien looked down at his papers. He should have pushed more, should have, as Chloé told him once, 'grow a spine'.

None of that took away that Adrien was worried for her. Maybe, Adrien chewed the inside of his cheek, maybe he had given her bad advice. He went back to that time, that day where he suggested the high road. Sure, with paparazzi and tabloids, ignoring the lies worked, because if he acted on them it would just create more gossip and lies. But the more time it passed, the more outrageous the lies had been in his class. And the more he thought about it, the more he started to think his advice wasn't the answer Marinette needed.

Adrien turned back to the board and back to his paper to absently draw lines on it, waiting for the bell to ring. As long as they both knew the truth it couldn't hurt anyone, he had said. But when he heard at Lila's chatter of how she had all those connections to push his classmates to achieve their dreams, the uneasiness in his stomach grew. It was like a cup of water, Adrien thought, each lie was a drop filling it and now it was at the very rim, about to spill out. When Marinette was falsely accused he thought it was the spill of water, but Lila made up some other lie to cover her tracks. He never got to know what she said to convince the principal. But sooner or later it would all come to them, like a tidal wave to obliterate them all.

If he feared Lila's akumatization, he feared more his entire class.

The bell finally rang and students gathered up their things to get out, happy to enjoy the weekend, with his classmates going after Lila to hear more about her stories. Adrien pushed with more force than necessary his stuff in his bag and walked out as fast as he could, but he only gave a few steps out until he spotted Marinette walking out as well, along with a vacant stare.

He had to talk to her.

"Marinette?" he called for her, bluebell eyes glancing at him but not paying him much attention, it made his insides churn "ah, are you ok?"

"Oh? Y-yeah," she fixed the strap of her bag "I couldn't sleep much, thanks for asking."

"Oh, I mean," Adrien couldn't find what he wanted to say. He knew just a moment ago, why couldn't he say the words now?

"Anyway, I have to go home" Marinette started to walk "have a nice weekend Adrien."

"W-wait," Adrien walked after her, his hand about to grab her but it remained frozen in the air. He didn't feel that was going to help "Marinette I…"

"Dude!" Nino called him from behind "good, I thought you were already gone" he pulled him to a side "oh hey Marinette."

Marinette made a small sound but she just gave them a small smile Adrien knew wasn't real and turned around to walk out of the building.

"Hope I didn't interrupt,"

"Actually-"

"Because dude, I know you are still learning social cues but flirting while you have already someone is not cool."

Adrien turned to look at his friend with shock. Since when did he have someone? What?

"Anyway, the class is organizing a picnic tomorrow, you know, since Lila couldn't be with us the last time."

Because she was too busy creating havoc with that illusion that caused Scarlet Moth, Adrien bit his tongue.

"Wait," he took a step back "why didn't you say it while Marinette was here? She's our class representative and part of the group."

Nino shuffled his feet and looked sideways. It didn't take a genius to figure out he was nervous about the answer.

"Well, you see," he tried "Lila has told us, and dude, it's not that Marinette is a bad person but" he sighed "she and Lila just, they don't seem to get along? And no one could believe Marinette was going to harass Lila to the point of threatening her in the bathroom but pushing her down the stairs? Not cool dude."

Adrien's brain short-circuited. Marinette? Sweet, determined I stand for no bully Marinette? Adrien couldn't believe his ears. No, he was sure that was a lie. And to think Nino, of all people, was buying it. The stair incident was a lie and they had to know that too.

"I'm sorry," Adrien's eyes turned firm "I don't think I'll be able to make it."

"Oh, but dude what about- "

"Another time perhaps," Adrien turned on his heels and walked away from the school. He hurried his steps and bypassed the car waiting for him.

"I need to speak with a friend, it's really important" he looked at the Gorilla, his hands holding the strap of his bag until his knuckles were turning white; he didn't even bother to wait for a response, instead of crossing towards the bakery and greeting Tom Dupain with decisive voice.

"Is Marinette home?"

"She arrived a moment ago," Tom eyed him and Adrien tried not to shrink under the stare. It wasn't menacing or cold, like his father, but he could tell there was some cautiousness in Tom's eyes "did something happen at school again?"

"Yes," Adrien said. He was not going to lie or hide the information, even if he was starting to fear a possible ban of the bakery "I don't know what Lila said that day at the office but I'm sure it wasn't true."

"The girl has a disease that makes her unable to lie,"

That's what she said? Adrien wanted to roll his eyes so bad he only restrained himself because he was in front of someone he respected a lot.

"No sir," Adrien braced himself for the next part "she has been lying to all of us, telling overdone stories and getting her way out of working or doing stuff, framing my friend of things she would never do and- "he hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much he could really bring without Marinette around "and I did wrong in telling Marinette to not call her out on it."

"Adrien?"

Both men turned to look at Marinette, who was entering the bakery with her mom behind, both women looking at the model with a mix of surprise and disbelief.

"Marinette," Adrien turned to her "I'm sorry Marinette, I… I shouldn't have said you had to take the high road, it's obvious to me now that Lila lying is hurting someone," he took a step closer "she is hurting you."

"I- "

"I should have never let you carry all this burden alone, I said we were together in this and I failed you" he continued "and I don't expect you to forgive me Marinette but… but I cannot stand you being hurt from her actions."

Marinette's lip wobbled, her eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall at some point, but the one who pulled her to an embrace was Sabine, who was looking at Adrien more surprised than upset.

"Adrien, care to explain what has been going on at school?"

He wanted to shrink, maybe he had messed up by saying it in front of Marinette's parents.

"No," Marinette shook her head and pulled away from her mother's hug, but remained close to her as she wiped her tears "I want to tell you…"

Adrien didn't notice when Tom had moved past them to turn the sign of the bakery to closed, nor where he was pulled to the apartment above with Marinette next to him until they were both seated on the couch, a plate of biscuits in front of them.

Marinette took a deep breath and looked at Adrien, who nodded encouragingly at her. She turned to her parents and started to explain everything, since the first moment Lila had shown up. She looked down in shame when she said that yes, she had followed Lila and Adrien that time, but Adrien caught on more on how Lila had been the one that stole his father's book. He heard Marinette explaining how she knew Lila was lying again when she came back, every fake injury, false meeting with celebrities, all of them. But what made Adrien turn to look at her in shock was when Marinette, with her hands in fists, told them about how Lila threatened her in the bathroom, how she had declared war with her because Marinette refused to buy her lying.

What Nino had said had been true, Adrien thought as anger crept on him, but it had been the other way around.

"It was a good thing I wasn't the one akumatized that day-"

Wait, what?

"You were almost akumatized?"

"Ah…but I stopped it!" Marinette looked up at her parents and Adrien "I guess Lila was the one that caught it and-"

"But, Hawkmoth targets those with emotions being overwhelming and from what you said…there's no way Lila felt any bad emotion…"

"And you are saying she's the one that got akumatized?" Sabine inquired, the teens nodding in response.

"And after that…well,"

Marinette ended with the day she got expelled, with Adrien backing up how all those accusations were false.

"But, we saw her modelling with you Adrien" Sabine's expression was stern now, no wonder she was concealing all the anger she had against the Italian girl.

"That… I don't know how she even convinced my father" Adrien had wrinkled the end of his shirt from the entire time he was on that couch it was a mess "but when she came to tell you that she 'had a disease that made her lie' I coaxed her into it."

Marinette looked at him in disbelief.

"I… I didn't know what else to do," he looked down "I couldn't let her get away with it but I didn't know how to help you Marinette, and I keep screwing up with you."

"I…" Marinette wiped her eyes, puffy from the afternoon "I can't say I forgive you right away Adrien, I just…" she sighed "I need time, to feel I can forgive you."

"I understand," but it didn't take away that it hurt.

"That doesn't mean we aren't friends," Marinette offered him a small smile, the first real one Adrien had seen in weeks "friends sometimes argue, disagree and have ups and downs."

"I…yes, I guess it makes sense."

"Adrien," Tom called for him "thank you for coming and telling us."

"Indeed," Sabine stood up and went to hug her daughter again "and I'm sorry Marinette, we should have never doubted you, and we should have been there for you since the beginning."

Marinette squeezed her mom in retaliation, a pang of bittersweet feeling creeping up on Adrien. He stood up and took his bag.

"I… I have to go now, but Marinette" he looked at her and remembered the picnic they were going to organize, his anger coming back at him. He was not going to tell her about it, and he was not going to go. But he was going to fix things "if anything, don't hesitate to text me, ok?"

She nodded and wished him well, as her parents showed him out of the apartment, both looking at him with a mixture of sadness and gratitude Adrien didn't know what to make out of.

It wasn't until he was back in his room that he flopped on the bed and let out a long sigh.

"That was a plan," Plagg said while munching on his cheese "good progress kid."

"I think I could have done more," Adrien sighed "maybe Chloé is right, I'm a spineless worm."

"Don't sell yourself that short" Plagg hovered above him "or maybe, yes, learn from this kid."

Adrien glared at the kwami and moved to his night routine, even if there were still a couple of hours before his usual bedtime, he was just too tired to deal with everything. Wrapped in ladybug style pyjama pants –that he was not ashamed of wearing- and an old t-shirt, Adrien flopped on his bed prepared to let go of the day.

However, the moment he lied down and almost closed his eyes, a blue light blinded him, followed by a ghostly presence hovering right in front of him.

"Good evening Chat Noir," the figure said, "I think we need to talk."

[nikanndros]

The Post-Canon Time Travel AU

[Prologue] [Act I: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5] [Act II: Part 1]

Act II, Part 2.

When he’s finished talking to Nikandros, Damen orders him to be brought food, water and candles regularly. Nik himself warned Damen against seeming too sympathetic to the man who killed his brother, and refused Damen’s offer of a book or something to sleep on.

He assumes he’ll need to send a few groups of men to search various places where Jokaste could be. Last time, Laurent had found her on the border of Aegina and Patras. She had looked happy, Laurent had told him, with tanned skin and a three-year old at her ankles. They’d decided not to make contact in the end. 

It turns out that he doesn’t need to look though, because apparently it is known that Jokaste has gone to the Summer Palace for some solitude. Damen sends men there, and then has to collect himself. He’s not sure he trusts a world where Jokaste is allowed to go off to his mother’s palace whenever she chooses.

-

It’s surprisingly easy to slip into this world as if he belongs there. He goes to his meetings for the day and, while some people look surprised by a few of his decisions, no-one comments on him doing anything different from the norm, so Damen takes from that what he can.

That being said, talking to his fellow countrymen holds a lot less stress when he’s not also trying to make sure he doesn’t offend or upset Vere.

Dinner is non eventful, although Damen does notice that everyone takes great care not to mention Kastor or Nikandros. By the time he’s retired to his chambers for the evening, Damen is fairly sure that he’ll be able to handle things here, despite his memory complications.

Then there’s a knock at the door, and a small, dark haired woman pops her head in.

“Apologies, exalted,” she says, avoiding his gaze. He’s met her before, he thinks. One of Jokaste’s ladies?

“What is it?”

“I’m just here to see if you want to say goodnight to the children before I put them to bed?”

Damen is silent for so long that the girl actually looks up in concern.

“Ah,” Damen says. “The children. Yes, I- Why don’t you lead the way?”

She leads him to the royal nursery and Damen regrets not having a glass of wine before this. Or griva. Just something strong, because she opens the doors to reveal-

Three children.

The one that looks the oldest - although Damen can’t even begin to guess her age, less than five maybe? Old enough to walk, at least - looks up at his entrance and grins.

“Baba!” she exclaims, running over to him and raising her arms.

Damen is pretty sure he isn’t breathing properly. “Hello,” he says, awkwardly. He picks her up because that seems to be what she’s gesturing for.

The Lady - Kyrina! Damen remembers suddenly - smiles. “Ione’s been insisting that she can’t go to bed until you kiss her goodnight.”

“Of course,” Damen says. He looks at the little girl in his arms. She’s smiling at him very widely, a mess of dark curls in front of her eyes. “Uh, goodnight,” he says.

“Baba,” she says again. “You have to give me kisses!”

“Yes,” Damen replies. He kisses the top of her head. She giggles. Damen hands the child to Kyrina, who does a good job catching her.

“...I’ll just put her to bed then,” she says, slowly. Kyrina puts the little girl, Ione, into a small bed, covered with dark blue sheets. “Cassi and Leo are already asleep, obviously.”

Beside Ione’s bed is another bed, where another girl - presumably Cassi - is sleeping. All Damen can see of her is a bundle of golden ringlets poking out of a sheet. And in the corner of the room sleeps a little boy, and he is so tiny that he must be almost new. It’s a sweet picture - a roomful of sleeping Akielon children. It’s not something Damen has properly thought about having, but he thinks he could get used to it.

Kyrina hesitates. “Pardon me, Exalted. While you’re here: Lady Jokaste left many instructions for me to look after the children, but I wondered if you knew when she would be back? The children miss her.”

“They… miss Jokaste?”

“She is their mother.”

“Ah,” Damen says, faintly. “I have to go.”

-

“Nikandros,” Damen says, entering the cells. The torch in his hand sends the shadows in flickering directions that somehow manage to made the jail look worse than when it was pitch black moments earlier.

“Damen,” Nik says, from where he’s lying across the floor. He looks tired. “What can I do for you?”

Distracted by the grim surroundings, Damen says, “Are you sure you don’t want candles and a book?”

“You cannot be seen giving your brother’s killer favour,” Nik says patiently, sitting up.

“I am the only one visiting you. Who will know?”

“The slave you have bring them to me, and anyone who sees them do it.”

Damen remembers the fear and helplessness he had felt, his first time in Arles when Laurent has threatened to lock him away, alone and chained, for who knows how long. “I’ll bring it myself.”

Nikandros sighs, but he doesn’t refuse, so Damen knows he has won. “Surely you didn’t just come down here to check on me.”

“I should have brought wine,” Damen says, and then he sits down at the bars, so he face Nik and pretend this is a normal conversation. “I’ve discovered I have children.”

“Oh,” Nik looks shocked. “Forgive me, I didn’t even consider that they might not… Are the children different, in the other world?”

“Different in that they do not exist,” Damen replies.

“You have no heirs?”

“Not yet,” Damen says. “We were working on that, but there was a lot to consider.”

“Hmm,” Nik pauses thoughtfully for a moment. “Well, you have three children. Iona, Cassiopeia, and Leo. The girls are three and two; Leo was born almost four months ago.”

“Are they all with,” Damen winces, “Jokaste?”

“Yes.”

He really doesn’t want to ask this next question. “Is Jokaste my wife?”

Nik laughs. “You’ve gone pale.”

“I am not ready for all this,” Damen admits. “I don’t even know what I’m meant to do with children.”

Nikandros looks amused. “I think you said exactly that to me, when we found out Jokaste was having Iona.”

“At least I am consistent in something.”

“You’re not married to her,” Nik says. “But it is expected. Or it was, until you two fought and you sent her away to the Summer Palace.”

“Why did we fight?”

“She kept trying to make you see sense about Kastor. You told her that you had no intention of marrying someone who wasn’t loyal to your family. You thought she was lying because she didn’t like all the things Kastor tried to advise you on.”

Damen sighs. He can’t believe he ever thought this wouldn’t be entirely complicated. “Okay,” he says. He needs to think. “Priorities. I need to focus on you getting out of here, first.” Nik insists there has to be a trial - people can’t just get away with murdering members of the royal family - but if the trial goes wrong, Damen is prepared to handle the consequences of overruling it. “Then I’ll deal with Jokaste.” And after that - finally, when things are in order - then Damen is going to go to Vere, and find his husband.

At least he can take comfort in the fact that with Auguste alive - things are probably going much better for Laurent then they are for Damen.