#i think we had fundamentally different points that were flying past each other like they were saying iq is real and it's valuable for

[vraska-theunseen]

i keep dismissing societal concepts i think are silly in my head and so i go around being like we made this up it's so pointless... abt like copyright law or whatever but then i kind of lock myself in an echo chamber of my own brain where i go around thinking stuff and then i have a conversation with a friend where i find out they put weight in [concept] i've dismissed like they're talking about how IQ is real and measurable and important for statistics and im like WHAT THE HELL...

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Facebook thrives on criticism of "disinformation"

The mainstream critique of Facebook is surprisingly compatible with Facebook’s own narrative about its products. FB critics say that the company’s machine learning and data-gathering slides disinformation past users’ critical faculties, poisoning their minds.

Meanwhile, Facebook itself tells advertisers that it can use data and machine learning to slide past users’ critical faculties, convincing them to buy stuff.

In other words, the mainline of Facebook critics start from the presumption that FB is a really good product and that advertisers are definitely getting their money’s worth when they shower billions on the company.

Which is weird, because these same critics (rightfully) point out that Facebook lies all the time, about everything. It would be bizarre if the only time FB was telling the truth was when it was boasting about how valuable its ad-tech is.

Facebook has a conflicted relationship with this critique. I’m sure they’d rather not be characterized as a brainwashing system that turns good people into monsters, but not when the choice is between “brainwashers” and “con-artists selling garbage to credulous ad execs.”

As FB investor and board member Peter Thiel puts it: “I’d rather be seen as evil than incompetent.” In other words, the important word in “evil genius” is “genius,” not “evil.”

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1440312271511568393

The accord of tech critics and techbros gives rise to a curious hybrid, aptly named by Maria Farrell: the Prodigal Techbro.

A prodigal techbro is a self-styled wizard of machine-learning/surveillance mind control who has see the error of his ways.

https://crookedtimber.org/2020/09/23/story-ate-the-world-im-biting-back/

This high-tech sorcerer doesn’t disclaim his magical powers — rather, he pledges to use them for good, to fight the evil sorcerers who invented a mind-control ray to sell your nephew a fidget-spinner, then let Robert Mercer hijack it to turn your uncle into a Qanon racist.

There’s a great name for this critique, criticism that takes its subjects’ claims to genius at face value: criti-hype, coined by Lee Vinsel, describing a discourse that turns critics into “the professional concern trolls of technoculture.”

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

The thing is, Facebook really is terrible — but not because it uses machine learning to brainwash boomers into iodine-guzzling Qnuts. And likewise, there really is a problem with conspiratorial, racist, science-denying, epistemologically chaotic conspiratorialism.

Addressing that problem requires that we understand the direction of the causal arrow — that we understand whether Facebook is the cause or the effect of the crisis, and what role it plays.

“Facebook wizards turned boomers into orcs” is a comforting tale, in that it implies that we need merely to fix Facebook and the orcs will turn back into our cuddly grandparents and get their shots. The reality is a lot gnarlier and, sadly, less comforting.

There’s been a lot written about Facebook’s sell-job to advertisers, but less about the concern over “disinformation.” In a new, excellent longread for Harpers, Joe Bernstein makes the connection between the two:

https://harpers.org/archive/2021/09/bad-news-selling-the-story-of-disinformation/

Fundamentally: if we question whether Facebook ads work, we should also question whether the disinformation campaigns that run amok on the platform are any more effective.

Bernstein starts by reminding us of the ad industry’s one indisputable claim to persuasive powers: ad salespeople are really good at convincing ad buyers that ads work.

Think of department store magnate John Wanamaker’s lament that “Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted; the trouble is I don’t know which half.” Whoever convinced him that he was only wasting half his ad spend was a true virtuoso of the con.

As Tim Hwang documents brilliantly in his 2020 pamphlet “Subprime Attention Crisis,” ad-tech is even griftier than the traditional ad industry. Ad-tech companies charge advertisers for ads that are never served, or never rendered, or never seen.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost

They rig ad auctions, fake their reach numbers, fake their conversions (they also lie to publishers about how much they’ve taken in for serving ads on their pages and short change them by millions).

Bernstein cites Hwang’s work, and says, essentially, shouldn’t this apply to “disinformation?”

If ads don’t work well, then maybe political ads don’t work well. And if regular ads are a swamp of fraudulently inflated reach numbers, wouldn’t that be true of political ads?

Bernstein talks about the history of ads as a political tool, starting with Eisenhower’s 1952 “Answers America” campaign, designed and executed at great expense by Madison Ave giants Ted Bates.

Hannah Arendt, whom no one can accuse of being soft on the consequences of propaganda, was skeptical of this kind of enterprise: “The psychological premise of human manipulability has become one of the chief wares that are sold on the market of common and learned opinion.”

The ad industry ran an ambitious campaign to give scientific credibility to its products. As Jacques Ellul wrote in 1962, propagandists were engaged in “the increasing attempt to control its use, measure its results, define its effects.”

Appropriating the jargon of behavioral scientists let ad execs “assert audiences, like workers in a Taylorized workplace, need not be persuaded through reason, but could be trained through repetition to adopt the new consumption habits desired by the sellers.” -Zoe Sherman

These “scientific ads” had their own criti-hype attackers, like Vance “Hidden Persuaders” Packard, who admitted that “researchers were sometimes prone to oversell themselves — or in a sense to exploit the exploiters.”

Packard cites Yale’s John Dollard, a scientific ad consultant, who accused his colleagues of promising advertisers “a mild form of omnipotence,” which was “well received.”

Today’s scientific persuaders aren’t in a much better place than Dollard or Packard. Despite all the talk of political disinformation’s reach, a 2017 study found “sharing articles from fake news domains was a rare activity” affecting <10% of users.

https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/sciadv.aau4586

So, how harmful is this? One study estimates “if one fake news article were about as persuasive as one TV campaign ad, the fake news in our database would have changed vote shares by an amount on the order of hundredths of a percentage point.”

https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/jep.31.2.211

Now, all that said, American politics certainly feel and act differently today than in years previous. The key question: “is social media creating new types of people, or simply revealing long-obscured types of people to a segment of the public unaccustomed to seeing them?”

After all, American politics has always had its “paranoid style,” and the American right has always had a sizable tendency towards unhinged conspiratorialism, from the John Birch Society to Goldwater Republicans.

Social media may not be making more of these yahoos, but rather, making them visible to the wider world, and to each other, allowing them to make common cause and mobilize their adherents (say, to carry tiki torches through Charlottesville in Nazi cosplay).

If that’s true, then elite calls to “fight disinformation” are unlikely to do much, except possibly inflaming things. If “disinformation” is really people finding each other (not infecting each other) labelling their posts as “disinformation” won’t change their minds.

Worse, plans like the Biden admin’s National Strategy for Countering Domestic Terrorism lump 1/6 insurrectionists in with anti-pipeline activists, racial justice campaigners, and animal rights groups.

Whatever new powers we hand over to fight disinformation will be felt most by people without deep-pocketed backers who’ll foot the bill for crack lawyers.

Here’s the key to Bernstein’s argument: “One reason to grant Silicon Valley’s assumptions about our mechanistic persuadability is that it prevents us from thinking too hard about the role we play in taking up and believing the things we want to believe. It turns a huge question about the nature of democracy in the digital age — what if the people believe crazy things, and now everyone knows it? — into a technocratic negotiation between tech companies, media companies, think tanks, and universities.”

I want to “Yes, and” that.

My 2020 book How To Destroy Surveillance Capitalism doesn’t dismiss the idea that conspiratorialism is on the rise, nor that tech companies are playing a key role in that rise — but without engaging in criti-hype.

https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59

In my book, I propose that conspiratorialism isn’t a crisis of what people believe so much as how they arrive at their beliefs — it’s an “epistemological crisis.”

We live in a complex society plagued by high-stakes questions none of us can answer on our own.

Do vaccines work? Is oxycontin addictive? Should I wear a mask? Can we fight covid by sanitizing surfaces? Will distance ed make my kind an ignoramus? Should I fly in a 737 Max?

Even if you have the background to answer one of these questions, no one can answer all of them.

Instead, we have a process: neutral expert agencies use truth-seeking procedures to sort of competing claims, showing their work and recusing themselves when they have conflicts, and revising their conclusions in light of new evidence.

It’s pretty clear that this process is breaking down. As companies (led by the tech industry) merge with one another to form monopolies, they hijack their regulators and turn truth-seeking into an auction, where shareholder preferences trump evidence.

This perversion of truth has consequences — take the FDA’s willingness to accept the expensively manufactured evidence of Oxycontin’s safety, a corrupt act that kickstarted the opioid epidemic, which has killed 800,000 Americans to date.

If the best argument for vaccine safety and efficacy is “We used the same process and experts as pronounced judgement on Oxy” then it’s not unreasonable to be skeptical — especially if you’re still coping with the trauma of lost loved ones.

As Anna Merlan writes in her excellent Republic of Lies, conspiratorialism feeds on distrust and trauma, and we’ve got plenty of legitimate reasons to experience both.

https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/

Tech was an early adopter of monopolistic tactics — the Apple ][+ went on sale the same year Ronald Reagan hit the campaign trail, and the industry’s growth tracked perfectly with the dismantling of antitrust enforcement over the past 40 years.

What’s more, while tech may not persuade people, it is indisputably good at finding them. If you’re an advertiser looking for people who recently looked at fridge reviews, tech finds them for you. If you’re a boomer looking for your old high school chums, it’ll do that too.

Seen in that light, “online radicalization” stops looking like the result of mind control, instead showing itself to be a kind of homecoming — finding the people who share your interests, a common online experience we can all relate to.

I found out about Bernstein’s article from the Techdirt podcast, where he had a fascinating discussion with host Mike Masnick.

https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20210928/12593747652/techdirt-podcast-episode-299-misinformation-about-disinformation.shtml

Towards the end of that discussion, they talked about FB’s Project Amplify, in which the company tweaked its news algorithm to uprank positive stories about Facebook, including stories its own PR department wrote.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/22/kropotkin-graeber/#zuckerveganism

Project Amplify is part of a larger, aggressive image-control effort by the company, which has included shuttering internal transparency portals, providing bad data to researchers, and suing independent auditors who tracked its promises.

I’d always assumed that this truth-suppression and wanton fraud was about hiding how bad the platform’s disinformation problem was.

But listening to Masnick and Bernstein, I suddenly realized there was another explanation.

Maybe Facebook’s aggressive suppression of accurate assessments of disinformation on its platform are driven by a desire to hide how expensive (and profitable) political advertising it depends on is pretty useless.

Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_(41793470192).jpg

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[kuromantic]

Tales of Zombish: Haikyuu Light Novel Translation

*This is my translation of the Zombie Knight Zombish snippets from the light novel. It’s split into 5 parts, and inserted between each chapter of the light novel. Don’t copy this to another site. The translation is under the cut!

Zombie Knight Zombish

 1: Zombish is Born!!

Nightfall. A lone swordsman wakes up. A swordsman that does not know of true death, because of experiencing a false death. 

“...Wait, it’s still evening, you stupid crow!” 

The man yells at the small crow beside him, having just woken up by a thin bush. The man’s body was wrapped up in an old, tattered cloth—which must have been a cloak some time ago—which covered his entire body. 

“I could have gotten burned by the setting sun…” The man blocks out the sunlight with the tattered cloth, and the crow caws apologetically. 

“Well, it’s okay. I don’t even have a body that can be burned.” 

The man laughs, and the crow flaps its black wings, flying ahead up into the sky. The man follows it with his gaze, squinting at the brightness. He stands up. 

“Oh, well. Guess I’ll go.” 

The man starts to walk. His frame was thin and delicate, which could be seen even when it was covered with the tattered cloth. And on his back, was a sword. 

The sword, which is large enough to not be recognized as one at first glance, does not suit the lean man. 

“Man, I wonder if a car will pass by… Eh, I guess no sane person would have gasoline now.” 

There’s no road where the man looks ahead. 

In the dead world where smokey, dried up wastelands stretch out for seemingly forever, the man continues to walk alone today.

“Yeah, isn’t this good? Isn’t this good? It sounds like the story’s just begun, right?” 

The rookie mangaka, Udai Tenma, stands up with an excited face and gets another drink from the self-service fountains. He returns to his table with a glass of cola in his hand. He continues working on his storyboard. 

The only equipment on the table is a notebook, a pencil and an eraser. On the open page, there are scribbles that nobody else could decipher. It’s the storyboard Udai made with all his effort. 

I wanna try and make a manga. I like it. With that, Udai had drawn a manga during his college years. And it had won an honourable mention in the rookie awards. He had gotten an editor and debuted as a mangaka. But the reality was, he wasn’t quite reaching serialization. 

But now, “Zombie Knight Zombish”, is being created in the restaurant. And there’s a confidence that hasn’t been there before. 

“‘Everything but death is nothing but a scratch’? He needs to get over himself… No, maybe ‘Mortal bodies, they make me jealous.’...” 

Udai mumbles dialogues to himself, changing his expressions to suit the main character’s. The other customers at the restaurant glance at him. 

But he can’t afford to care about those gazes.

Zombish needs to help the heroine attacked by the enemy, in an extremely cool and overdramatic manner. 

And the enemy has to be a fated opponent that Zombish has known before turning into a zombie. The heroine needs to be a key person, for Zombish to return from zombie to human. And of course, she needs to be cute, a little strong-willed, who tries to join in on the fighting sometimes. But also a girl who you just want to protect…

A flash. 

The girl’s eyes can only capture the white hand, emerging from the tattered cloth and gripping the sword on his back. 

She feels wind brush past her cheeks, and closes her eyes. She opens them again, and the bandits have already collapsed onto the dry ground. 

“Huh? What…?” 

As the girl struggles to comprehend what had happened, Zombish is already starting to walk away. 

“Hey, don’t leave me behind!” 

She grabs the knight. At that moment, the tattered cloth on him rips and falls to the ground. 

What appears is not the handsome knight she expected. Nor a fighter that’s big and well-muscled. It’s a skeleton. 

“...Wait, bone?! Why bone! Bone? Wait, do bones even talk?!” 

“Yeah, I’m bone! So sorry I’m bone, sue me!” 

The knight picks up the truly tattered piece of rag, and hides his body. It truly looks like a skeletal model. He turns his back to the girl. 

“Anyway, I’m bone. So I can’t go with you. Protect yourself, you’re on your own.” 

The “bone”, that had slain a crowd of bandits instantly, tries to walk away from one single girl, as if to escape from her. 

Staring at Zombish’s lanky, weak-looking back and the huge sword on it, the girl shouts over at him. 

“Hey, bone! Can you eat?” 

Zombish turns around, lifts the tattered cloth, and points around his stomach with a laugh. 

“You wanna see me eat? It’s hilarious.” 

“If you don’t eat… That means I don’t have to share my food or water with you, right?”

“Huh?” 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re bone or not, if you can defeat these guys. You’re pretty strong.” The girl points to the iron-clad, muscular bandit with a mohawk. “And I should sew that cloth I ripped back together…” 

Zombish laughs, his hard skull distorting a little. “I’m not strong. Those guys are just small fries. But I guess I’ll have you fix this cloth for me.” 

At those words, the girl runs up to him. 

In the dried-up world of death, two footsteps mark their paths. Up above in the sky, a crow flies around in circles. As if to watch over them. 

Zombish’s journey has just started!! 

“I wonder what my editor will say…” 

 The man, once the “Little Giant”, leaves the restaurant and returns home. And without changing his clothes, collapses into his futon for the first time in a while.

2. VS Editor A!! 

“Zombies aren’t usually skeletons, right?” Akaashi Keiji opens his heavy mouth, holding his coffee in one hand. It makes Akaashi heavy-hearted to meddle with a work an author brought to him. 

Kanda, Chiyoda City, Tokyo. 

In the editorial department of Weekly Shonen Vie, there’s an extreme lack of people in the afternoon. 

The rookie mangaka, Udai Tenma, freezes momentarily in the meeting space. And he attempts to brush it off with a laugh. 

“Yeah, I thought, ‘Is a skeleton okay?’ for a bit. But maybe a Japanese-style zombie would be new, and I thought I could pull it off. We all get cremated in Japan, too. Hahaha.” 

“I see.” 

Akaashi looks at the copy of “Zombie Knight Zombish” on the table, and Udai laughing in front of him. And he says one more time, with force behind his words. That this is the last time he’ll say this, and he won’t say the same thing again. 

“Zombies aren’t usually skeletons, right.” 

The question mark had disappeared. 

It’s not a question, but a confirmation of fact. 

“...Yeah.” Udai replies weakly. He drops his shoulders, and bites the straw of his cola. 

 It’s tough. 

It had been his best work. He had a confidence in it, that he hadn’t before with his other works. But his concept had been fundamentally criticized. 

The editor continues talking to the crestfallen Udai. 

“And one more thing.” 

“...What is it?” 

Udai hunches his shoulders, looking up at Akaashi like a scolded child. Akaashi sips his coffee, adjusts his glasses and lets out a breath. He opens his mouth slowly. 

“We’ve established that a skeleton is not a zombie. But I think this skeleton’s design is a little lacking, in the first place. It’s no different to any old skeleton. For the main character, I want a quirk that will tell you it’s Zombish with just one look.” 

“Any old skeleton?” Udai says, and draws a normal-looking skeleton into his notebook. 

“Yes. For example, he could be wearing glasses, or he could have a large scar. I want a unique design. Even if you draw him simply, you would know it’s him. If I were to ask for more, I’d even say make his silhouette recognizable. That’s how strong his design should be.” 

Udai adds a scar to his skeleton, and mumbles, “I guess it can’t be a scar, if his silhouette has to be recognizable.” 

“The scar is just one example.” 

“I’m sorry…” 

Udai slurps the cola at the bottom of the glass, which is pretty much melted ice. He laughs disappointedly. 

“I thought the skeleton was fine, since he was cremated. Like a Japanese-style zombie. Well, there’s no zombie-ness, I guess…” 

At those words, Akaashi’s glasses shine. 

“Then… How about you make Zombish look more Japanese? It could link with his sword, too.” 

“What?” 

“Well, this is just one what-if scenario.” 

“...No, I think it could work. I’ll think about it! Then maybe he can look different from any old zombie!” Udai grabs his pen, and draws a Japanese-style zombie in his notebook. “If it’s Japanese clothes and a sword, he’d just be a samurai… How do I give him the zombie knight feeling…”

Watching the pen move busily and create many versions of Zombish, Akaashi feels a weight lift from his heart. 

It makes him heavy-hearted to meddle with other people’s works. But sometimes, his words make the author take a step in a good direction. That must be why he can continue with this job. 

“So now, please brush up on the work. And, depending on the edited manuscript, I may bring it up during the serialization meeting.” 

Udai’s pen stops moving. “Wait, why?! You’ve been talking about my work so harshly and tearing into it this whole time!” 

“...I haven’t been tearing into it. It’s entertaining, so I just want to make the story even more entertaining.” 

Udai’s face crumples, as he looks up at Akaashi. “Akaashi-san, you weren’t just an unpleasant person, after all!” 

“I’m an unpleasant person…?” 

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean it that way! I meant it in an um, good way!” 

Akaashi doesn’t ask what exactly he means by that, and organizes the manuscript. “Zombish is very entertaining, compared to the works you have brought me so far. I think you have a chance.” 

“Thank you!” 

“Oh, and lastly…” 

“There’s… still more?” Udai tenses. 

 Akaashi chuckles, before talking. “I’ve been thinking for a while, but this bit on the edge of the page, saying ‘Zombish’s journey has only just begun!’. You don’t need to write that. It’s the editor’s job.” 

“...!!”

4. Get Serialized!! 

It’s just past noon. Noticing that the phone is ringing, Udai reaches out from under the futon. He checks, and realizes it’s Akaashi. He gets out of the futon in a hurry, and answers. 

“You were asleep.” Akaashi says, in the same straightforward tone. 

“...I’m sorry.” 

“No, I’m sorry too. I’m going to get into it. Your one-shot is well-received.” 

At those words, Udai’s hand begins to sweat. He had been told to make a one-shot for the extra issue, and had made “Zombie Knight Zombish” with everything he’d got. 

He had changed Zombish’s design into a young man with patchwork skin, after Akaashi’s critique. He likes the way the bandages show around his collar. It can’t have been a skeleton, he thinks. It’s hard to relate to a skeleton. 

The “recognizable by silhouette” task had been cleared with the axe on his head. The zombie knight element was incorporated, by making him detach his left arm to wield his sword. Maybe they’ll make a movable figure out of the character. 

Above all, it was a work he’d been confident in. If it had still been absolutely hopeless, Udai wouldn’t have been able to recover from it. 

“Thank god…” Udai feels the tension drain out of him, and Akaashi continues. 

“And now, I would like to brush up Zombish to prepare for serialization.” 

“Of course! With pleasure!” Udai answers with gusto, almost like an izakaya employee. 

“Firstly, your heroine.” 

“Yes!” 

I should probably fix up the heroine a bit more, Udai thinks. Make her cuter, better… But Akaashi doesn’t steer the conversation in that direction. 

“In the one-shot, Zombish saves her, and they decide to go on a journey together, and it ends there.” 

“Huh? Oh, yes.” 

“If the one-shot will be chapter one, are they going to be travelling together in chapter two and beyond?” 

It’s not anything fun, like about making the heroine have a good figure or about how revealing her clothes should be. 

And really, Udai hadn’t been thinking what would happen once it got serialized. Well, he supposes it would be like what Akaashi just said. 

“Wouldn’t the readers grow bored of that?” As if to read Udai’s mind, Akaashi says. 

“What?” 

“The main character and the heroine go on a journey together the whole time, an enemy appears, he saves her, he defeats the enemy, and then moves on. And they continue like that until the final boss.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Wouldn’t that bore people?” 

Wait, am I getting given out to? 

No, he’d only been thinking of the one-shot as a base, so he hadn’t set anything beyond that in stone. He had only thought that leaving the readers hoping for more would be enough. 

“...Um, if it’s possible, I’d like to talk about this in person.” Udai says, wiping the sweat off his palms with his t-shirt. 

“All right. When are you free?” 

And so, in the editorial department the day after, the brainstorming session in the meeting space had continued for more than two hours. 

“So then, instead of a heroine that just keeps getting saved…” 

“She’d be like a buddy that also gives witty comebacks.” 

Udai draws a bunch of expressions for the female character. Flustered, angry, glaring… He stops his pen, and looks at Akaashi. 

“Then maybe Zombish will have a goofy side, instead of just being cool?” 

“But please don’t make it into a gag manga. Looking at the survey results, there are a lot of people saying that the manga is interesting because Zombish is cool.” Akaashi answers, looking at the survey chart. 

“I see… Balancing it out is hard.” Udai draws out a bunch of Zombish’s expressions in his notebook, and laughs. “But it’s fun. It feels like I’m making a manga.” 

“It’s good to hear that.” Akaashi smiles for a moment, and continues. “And also, about the enemy. Instead of them being a group of bandits in the harsh world, making them an organization would add depth to the story.” 

“Oh, maybe they’re the reason Zombish turned into a zombie?” 

“Sounds good.” 

Udai’s mood lifts from Akaashi’s acknowledgement, and opens up a page earlier on in his notebook. 

“Look here! The final boss is a fated opponent from before Zombish turned into a zombie. And the heroine is a key person for Zombish to turn back into a human. So I thought right now, maybe the heroine is the daughter of the final boss.” 

In contrast to the excited Udai, Akaashi lets out a low groan of uncertainty. 

“...So what, exactly, is Zombish fighting for?” 

“You always ask questions that can make the whole thing fall apart, Akaashi-san.” 

“Well, isn’t that the most important part?” 

Expanding ideas simple-mindedly is fun. The more he expands, picking up the pieces and making the story coherent will be hell, though. But knowing that, talking about final bosses and rivals is genuinely fun. 

“Secret hideouts are great, aren’t they?” 

“If they’ve taken over this world, isn’t there no need to keep it a secret? Something that would display their power…” 

“A castle!”

7. Secret Technique: Bolster Up! 

Just after serialization, the response had been very good. It had been. Udai had been in a good mood, asking “This will definitely be turned into an anime, right?” 

But now, it had gotten to a point where they couldn’t let it get any lower on the survey rankings. 

“........” 

“Are you okay?” Akaashi’s senior sees him with his head in his hands, and speaks to him. 

“...Oh, yes.” 

“It’s about Zombish, right? You should bolster it up with something. Like, with a pretty girl or a handsome guy,” the senior says. “Well, I don’t know.” He returns to his seat, after saying his part. 

“Bolster it up…” 

Akaashi’s brows knit together. 

Would that be enough? Could such a hasty, superficial solution entertain the readers? Well, the current results point to the fact that they’re not entertained. But even so, shouldn’t they be charming the audience with the protagonist’s appeal, or how interesting the story is? 

“The protagonist’s appeal, huh…” 

But what are the features of a protagonist that will be loved? 

What kind of story makes the readers want to come back for more? 

“.....” 

It would be the anticipation the readers have for the main character. What will happen next week? What will he show us next? Expectations as such. There must have been a lack of absolute protagonist strength, if he thinks about it. 

But that was the result of trying to create a dark fantasy, painting a delicate picture of emotions. Precisely because it was an absurd world with a zombie knight appearing in it. Was that what they had done wrong? Was it impossible for his literature department-aspiring self to make an entertaining manga, after all…?

After pondering for a long time, Akaashi lifts his head with a start. 

“....!” 

Wait a minute. 

Am I making the same mistake again? 

Am I thinking I could control the author and the readers? 

“...No. Pour your spirit into each ball, pour your spirit into each ball…” 

Yes. Focus on the next point, the next ball. Focus on this week’s story, the obstacle the protagonist must overcome. 

His desk becomes messier each day, as if to reflect inside his heart. Akaashi closes his eyes, and focuses his mental state. 

“Don’t think about what’s easy, think about what’s fun. What’s fun…” 

The survey rankings going down, getting discontinued isn’t fun. Then what is he meant to do…?

“Give feedback… Connect it to the next step… The next…” 

The seniors look at Akaashi worriedly, in front of the printer. 

“Akaashi is muttering to himself again, is he okay? He won’t quit, will he?” 

“He always comes back to life afterwards, you can leave him alone.” 

“Yep.”

“I want an absolute, strong main character.” Akaashi says to Udai, during their meeting. 

“Absolute?” 

“Yes. Like a star that hits any ball with his utmost ability.” 

“Am I going to get discontinued?!” 

Udai stands up with a clatter, face growing pale. Akaashi shakes his head quietly. 

“...Please calm down. It’s not getting discontinued, yet.” 

“...Yet…” Udai shrinks, and sits back down. 

“It’s a tough situation, but let’s turn things around.” 

They’re burning their bridges behind them. 

On the walls around the meeting space, there are many posters of works that had been turned into anime and movies. And the cardboard boxes blocking the corridor are packed with samples of goods. 

They have to join the ranks of those popular works, at all cost…!

Akaashi brings his gaze back to Udai, and starts to summarize the things he had thought about for the past week. 

“The main character… Zombish is a ‘star’. The readers have expectations for the star. What will he do next? What awesome moves will he show us? What kind of crazy risks will he take?

“We want the main character to amaze us with unexpected, yet charming actions. Whether Zombish sinks or swims will depend on how he overcomes next week’s desperate situation.” 

Akaashi lifts the paper bag on the floor. “And there’s a favour I want to ask from you.” 

“What’s this? I was wondering about it for a while.” The paper bag handed to him is unexpectedly heavy. Udai glances inside. “A blu-ray?” 

“Yes. I picked out swashbuckler films of all types, that have useful scenes for composition and pose references. At this point, we should take in anything cool and flashy.” 

“Thank you!”

“Also, it will be hard for you to watch it all, so I wrote the times for scenes I want you to watch.” Akaashi gives him a note. 

“I’ll definitely watch it! I’ll use them as references!” 

“I’ll do anything I can as well. Let’s both try our best.” 

There’s no way Akaashi can control what story the author will bring to him, what the other works will be like, how the readers will react. 

So, he should think about what he can do, what he should do. 

Avoiding discontinuation— it’s hard, but it shouldn’t be impossible.

10. Our fight has only just begun! 

“Zombish is getting discontinued… You have seven chapters left…” 

After getting the phone call informing him of the discontinuation, Udai had gone outside. Staying in his room felt too painful. But why, and how he’d come to the editing department, he doesn’t remember. 

Akaashi had been taken aback, after Udai had come without contacting him. But one look at his face, and he knew he couldn’t leave him by himself. And so he had taken him to a nearby coffee shop to talk to him. It was just his luck that he hadn’t gone outside the company. 

“Please order anything you like.” 

Akaashi gives the menu to Udai sitting opposite to him, but Udai drops it onto the table, not having enough energy to hold it. 

Akaashi pulls the menu closer to himself, trying not to show his shock. “Is coffee all right, then?” 

“........” 

There’s no answer, but Akaashi asks for two cups of coffee from the waiter. He chooses his words carefully, and begins to speak. 

“We had unfortunate results this time, but…” Akaashi continues, to the dejected Udai. “And as a suggestion from me…”

“........”

“I would like to get a fresh start with a new work. We should solidify the concept more for your next work, and compete with a work only you can make.” 

“Next…?” Udai raises his head at last, only to slam it back into the table. “There’s nothing! There’s no such thing that only I can make!” He lifts his crumpled face, and yells. 

“That’s not true. There must be something…”

“It is too! There’s nothing!”

Akaashi can only bite his lip, while his assigned author descends into total panic. 

What should he do…

He can’t just say “Bye, then,” and leave him feeling downcast. He had wanted to part ways with him in a positive manner, connecting him to the next step. That might just be his own ego talking, though.

“...I’m sure there’s a good theme for you. Is there anything you liked as a child, or something you put your heart into?” 

“I’m just a jack-of-all-trades, average guy. I’ve just gotten by in regards to study, sports, art and music…” 

When Udai had been in good form, he had preened about it, saying “I can do pretty much anything!”, but now he’s totally dejected. Well, that can’t be helped. He’s getting discontinued, after all. 

The only thing Akaashi can do, is to tell him his completely honest thoughts. 

“I don’t think a serialized author is just a jack-of-all-trades, average person.” 

“I’m not a serialized author anymore, I’m a discontinued author…”

At that moment, the waiter arrives. He shows a slightly intrigued face at Udai’s words, but immediately puts on his professional face and turns on his heels. 

Akaashi takes the cup, and inhales the aroma of coffee to calm himself down. He thinks. Maybe he should make some small talk, and change the mood. 

What should he talk about? Not about his work, or about what lays ahead. Then, about Udai himself? He wonders what he had talked about with him recently. What club had he joined in college? Where was he from? 

And he remembers. 

“Udai-san, you told me before that you’re from Tohoku. Were there any unusual traditions there? That you can write a manga about.” 

“...Yeah, I’m from Miyagi. But I lived in a normal estate, it was all pretty normal.” 

Udai says with a hoarse voice, and absentmindedly puts sugar cubes into his coffee. Many, many sugar cubes. Akaashi thinks he’s adding a bit too much, but there’s an atmosphere around them that makes him unable to say that. 

“Well, maybe where I live is in the middle of nowhere in the countryside, to you. You’re from Tokyo, after all.” 

“That’s not…”

Akaashi thinks that Udai is getting a little too dejected with him, but he can’t be blamed. “Zombie Knight Zombish” is Udai’s first serialization, and his first discontinuation. 

Food, sleep… Udai had sacrificed such human necessities, and yet his work had not been well-received. Of course he would be dejected. 

And as a new employee, “Zombie Knight Zombish” was Akaashi’s first work that he had launched from nothing. Due to being emotionally invested in it, Akaashi had felt deeply disappointed about the decision made for Zombish. 

Which is exactly why he had wanted to end it on a positive note. Surely there’s something in common with them, that they can talk about…

Akaashi, feeling cornered, opens his mouth. And starts to talk about something unexpected, even to himself.

“...Actually, I have someone I know in Miyagi. It was in relation to the club I was in during high school.” 

“I see.” 

Udai stirs his coffee with lifeless eyes, not picking up the conversation at all. He doesn’t even drink the coffee that is surely too sweet. 

“........” 

Of course. Someone else’s high school years is the most irrelevant subject to Udai right now. But really, what should he do? Telling someone they’re being discontinued, and thinking of what happens afterwards, is a first for Akaashi. And it’s a big job. He isn’t sure what the correct thing to do is. 

Akaashi falls silent, and Udai opens his mouth. “...What club were you in, during high school?”  He asks, not sounding that interested. It feels more like he asked out of obligation, because there was a break in the conversation. 

Akaashi feels regret, after realizing he’s made Udai read the room for him. But at the same time, he feels relieved that some of Udai’s energy has come back. 

“Volleyball.” 

“I see. I did volleyball, too.” Udai says. “During my years, we went to the Spring High nationals, too.” 

At those words, Akaashi places the coffee he had lifted back onto the table. 

“Oh, me… too.” 

“Really?! That’s amazing, Akaashi-san!” 

“No, you too.” 

And with a light premonition, Akaashi asks. “...Which school did you attend in Miyagi?” 

“It’s not a powerhouse, so I don’t know if you’d know…” Udai laughs, before answering. “It’s called Karasuno.”

Please look forward to Udai-sensei’s next work, “Meteo Attack”! 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs, “A Visiting Delegation.”

Writing on another request I received a few times. I hope you like it.

Government officials filed into the room one after the other speaking quietly. Their voices raised towards the ceiling and echoed off of the walls. Little drops of water glittered in the darkness as the mass of packed bodies caused a heat that disturbed the thin layer of ice which covered most of the room. 

The ice itself lent to excellent acoustics, and the dull roar of voices never seemed to fade as the delegations slowly filed down onto the staggered platform seats.

There was a buzz of nervous energy about the room, emanating from all corners as they sat waiting for the meeting to start. 

Off in the corner a white furred scientist clad in a heavy winter coat sat meekly to the side.

She was very nervous.

It had taken months to convince the Tricarian council that the creature existed, and even with the proof it had provided, things had gone very slowly. Only after the vaccine was synthesised and distributed did they even begin to consider what she said to be true, even then, she knew they didn’t really believe her, and who would. An alien had broken into their polar research fort and handed her a cure for the the plague?

Even saying it to herself seemed crazy.

When she handed over the device to other government scientists, they had managed to make contact with…. someone , but they spoke too well for the leaders to really believe that they were another species. Most just thought it was some sort of elaborate prank or conspiracy.

Either way, today was the day they were going to find out.

Their world was slowly recovering, and now they could turn their attention to other matters.

The first lunar launch would be happening within the week, if all things went according to plan, and if there was something out there… something already capable of space travel, they would like to know about it.

Again she shifted nervously in her seat.

What if this supposed….. GA delegation never showed up.

She, and her colleague were the only ones to have seen the creature in person, and he refused to come forward and speak about it, so that left only her. IF the creature didn’t show up she had no doubt they would have no problem pointing fingers at her and calling her insane.

She glanced towards the window, which looked out over the icy tundra and towards the coast, where large fishing barges were slowly creeping up through the ice, their nets cast into the sea.

No matter how today turned out, it was going to change everything for her.

Either alien would descend from the sky and walk into the council chamber for peace talks, or she would be labelled as a crazy loon committing conspiracy against the government, and her life would be ruined.

She slumped back in her seat, the fur of her chest bunching up under her coat.

She flicked her large ears in annoyance, and wrapped her tail tight around her legs nervously.

Oh please strange alien visitors come and help me.

It was a very strange thing for her to be thinking. The first time she had seen the creatures, she wanted nothing more than for it to go away and back where it had come from, but now, well now she wanted nothing more than to see it again, if not to prove to everyone else that it had been real, but to prove to herself that it had been real.

The noise around her died down, and she looked up to see members of the trichar head council filing in to the other side of the room and taking their seats.

There was some discussion between them for a few moments and then one of them stood and the entire room went silent.

“Brothers and sisters, I welcome you today, today of days, to an unscheduled interanual meeting under…. Very strange circumstances.” He looked around the room, eyes scanning up and down the seats, “For the past few months we have slowly been recovering from the virulent plague that wiped out fifty percent of our population.”

There was a sad murmuring about our room.

“A plague that was well on it’s way to taking ninety percent of us from the face of this planet.”

The mood in the room grew somber.

“Now, I know we have all heard the circumstances around how the cure was discovered…. Or given as the story goes, and I am sure most of you, just like me, are questioning the validity of these statements. Today is the day whether we learn if these are true or not.” He glanced around the room, his tail swishing slowly over the ice, “As of now I am still skeptical that anything of the sort happened.” he glanced over at her and she wilted back in her seat.

“Regardless of what happens today, perhaps we can be assured that we will survive, life will go on and we will rebuild, though we mourn for those we lost.”

There was another soft muttering around the room.

She sensed some anger in the air knowing that the chancellor had failed to mention that the fifty percent of people who had died mostly came from the lower uneducated classes. There were those whisperings in the government, that many didn’t see it as such a great loss. The uneducated masses were gone, leaving behind them only the elite to live upon the face of the earth. They no longer had to think about sustaining such a large and useless population.

Not all of them could be used on the fishing barges, and many of them didn’t have the skill to harvest ice fruit, so what use were they really.

The thought made her sick.

“According to our preliminary discussions with the entity that calls itself the Galactic Assembly, we have agreed to meet today with one of its ambassadors to discuss peace talks and joining the galactic community.”

There was laughter from around the room.

The Chancellor smiled, “I myself am skeptical of course, and the words shock me even as they come out of my mouth. It would be an amazing day if intelligent life existed out in the universe. For it would change our fundamental understanding about how we see ourselves. We would no longer be alone, but If I am being honest with you, I am more inclined to believe that this is some sort of clever and audacious ploy from our enemies trying to take over our power after our sudden weakening due to population loss. If that is the case we must plan accordingly, and since I have seen no aliens up and walk through that door, I am inclined to believe the latter argument.”

There was a chorus of agreement from around the room.

She wilted even further in her seat.

“The agreement was to meet at this time and this place, and our scientists have been monitoring radio activity out of orbit, and we have detected no such alien vessels in or around our orbital ring, and neither have we seen any strange alien ships descending from the sky, no Unidentified flying objects as it were.” He turned his head to look in her direction, and by this time she had sunk so far into the cavern of her coat that only her ears and eyes peered out.

“What have you to say for yourself.”

She took a deep breath and straightened, “Chancelor, I am sorry, but we must give them time. The creature made it very clear to me that it was not meant so readily for cold weather conditions like us. They probably had to make special preparations and lost track of time, I am sure they are going to be here.”

There was a great rumble about the room mostly chuckling from skeptics who thought her to be just another hystric member of the lower class.

She knew what they thought of her.

She had come from the uneducated masses originally and her climb to the top had been arduous.

In many ways she didn’t really consider it to be over.

She stood.

“Please, I implore you, the creatures are five minutes late in arriving and already you doubt the truth of what you saw on that drive. There was information there, images and pictures of all different kinds of lifeforms, and sounds and videos. WHat reason would another government have to fake all of that, especially at a time like this. No one had the resources to be working on such a thing, and when it was given to me much of the world was sure we were going to be dead in the next ten years, it hardly makes any sense.”

As she spoke, voices in the crowd rose and she was drowned out as groups began shouting over each other to be heard.

She curled up tighter inside her jacket, tail wrapping around her legs again in a self soothing gesture as the uproar grew louder and louder. On the ceiling above, decorative ice moldings vibrated and shed water.

This was going to be a disaster.

She melted further into her coat, expecting for them to take her away to a sanatorium at any moment.

And then the door opened.

Clean unfettered light spilled in from the outdoors, and across the ice encrusted floor causing it to glitter like a billion tiny diamonds encased in blue and fractured ice.

The entire room went quiet and then looked up.

Anger was replaced with gasps of shock, as the entire room pushed back in their seats.

She felt a sudden and marvelous wave or relief wash over her as she looked up and saw the strange alien creatures step into the room.

They were tall, almost a foot taller than most in the room, and just how she remembered them, with their long arms, and legs.

When they walked their boots thudded heavily on the ice.

The front rows shied away as the creatures entered in a small group of four.

They were dressed, from head to toe in thick padded gear with artificial fur sticking up around the neck and face.

Their noses and mouths were covered by another layer of covering, leaving only their eyes peering out from the inside of their hoods.

Behind them, the door swung shut.

For the longest moment, there was nothing but silence in the room, until the lead creature slowly reached up and pushed back his hood, causing it to fall over his back. When he did he first revealed the top of his head, covered in a thin and unproductive layer of light yellow fur that seemed to have no other purpose than to rest on its head.

The rest of its face, once it pulled down the front of the mask was clean from hair, and cold air bit at it’s skin as it breath plumed up and around it.

It had no ears of which to speak, unless perhaps, those strange folded…. Things on the side of its head were ears.

As she remembered, the creature itself had a very flat face and a large jewel-like emerald eye. Based on the others standing behind it, it should have had two eyes but one of them was covered.

It turned its head to look around the room, before falling on her with a depression of recognition.”

It showed its teeth at her, teeth surprisingly similar to their own. Sharp teeth for tearing at the front and flat teeth for grinding at the back.

“I am glad to see you well.” it said, and its voice echoed across the room for all to hear and understand,

There was a murmuring of surprise. Underneath the strange voice, she could hear the even stranger grunting and hissing of it’s natural language.

It walked forward with its companions in tow, “Forgive our tardiness, but we had to prepare ourselves for your child weather.”

The room remained silent.

The creature looked around at them and tapped its foot on the ground, “Ok then, introductions are in order. I am Admiral Adam Allen Vir of the Galactic Assembly and United Nations Space Corps, leader of the Galactic  armada, ambassador of the Galactic assembly and explorational representative. A few months ago I was sent by my benefactors to provide a cure to your people and sew the seeds of invitation to the galactic community.” He looked around at them, “Our other delegates apologies for not being able to visit with you today, but your planet is very very cold, and we are the only species that may survive with any sort of….. Regularity on the face of your planet.”

Even as she watched, the skin on the side of the creature’s ears were beginning to turn red, and then purple.

Finally after many long minutes the chancellor stood, staring and wide eyed.

“So it is true.”

“Yes.”

“How can we be sure this is not some elaborate hoax.”

The creature stepped forward over the ice,which popped slightly under his weight. He walked closer to the chancellor who cowered back in his chair.

He paused just before the desk and pulled off the coverings on his hands, and then unzipped the front of the jacket, allowing it to fall open.

WHen he pulled it off, the skin of his arms and hands were bare, leaving only another thin covering over his chest.

He held out a hand.

“Feel for yourself, and tell me if any of your enemies could prejudice a facsimile of life that is so convincing.”

Not sure what to do, the chancellor reached out a hand and gingerly touched the creature drawing back in surprise and some measure of disgust. When he came back again, he took the hand in both of his and turned it over, palpating the structure of the bones and flesh underneath, examining a fine layer of useless hair on the back of the hand and arm.

“I…. see your point.”

The chancellor gave the creature his hand back looking on nervously as the creature began to spasm and vibrate. He pulled back, but the creature shook its head, “Forgive me chancellor, it is very cold here.”

He reached out and pulled his jacket back on, followed by the gloves and pulling his hood up around his ears.

It stopped its strange vibrations a moment later.

“As it is, the GA has invited you to join in peace talks with them. They are eager to trade resources and knowledge for precious combinations of minerals found in your ice. They would provide the means of space travel, or assistance in building your own, and offer protection from unknown factors in the rest of the galaxy. We simply desire to be allies in a far reaching cooperative conglomerate.”

The Trichar eyed him, “And why would your people be so interested, there is nothing that we can offer you that surely you could find somewhere else.”

“We are not so arrogant as to think we have a monopoly on knowledge and experience. For example your ability to live in such cold climates intrigues us. This entire room is made of ice and steel, hardly worth keeping out the cold. Even I cannot remain here for too long. I believe there is much we can learn from each other.”

The Chancellor sat unblinkingly staring at the alien.

“There are many opportunities that we can provide you. There are icy worlds ripe for the picking that much of the GA hasn’t bothered to touch considering their harsh conditions. There is plenty of room for industry and the transfer of knowledge. We would do nothing but benefit from you joining with us. If you so choose we would be willing to take one or a small group of your number to meet with the entire assembly on the capital, though there is no pressure to do so. We also have broadcasting and camera equipment which would suffice for you to meet them over long distances. There are many ends and possibilities, but…. Out of my own experience, I believe you would do well to take this offer.”

There was silence around the room.

She could hardly blame them. A strange alien benefactor seeking peace with them and offering opportunities and a great wealth of knowledge was certainly too good to be true. Also, the creatures were kinda…. Strange looking. In the full light of day and with the sun streaming in through the windows, she would have sworn that she could see little circulatory structures peeking as blue veins from it’s skin.

Almost as if it was partially translucent.

She shivered, it really creeped her out that she could see its interior structures from the outside.

No wonder it wasn’t meant to survive on such an icy planet as their own. Granted it had looked a lot stranger and more intimidating in the dark, but there was something about seeing the whole thing in it’s true form in daylight that still threw her off.

Looking around at the rest of the room she saw a mixed bag of emotions.

Awe.

Disgust.

nervousness .

Excitement.

The alien tilted it’s head casing its wide eyes about the room. She turned her head away, feeling that if she looked for too long, she might fall into that depthless green pool. That was the strange thing about it, though it had a body and physical presence like the rest of them, it seemed so….. Strange and….. Other, as if it was only showing them a part of itself.

That was silly of course.

She was just being paranoid.

And focusing on that paranoia because another part of her was very excited.

She wanted to see what this creature was talking about.

She wanted to experience it.

She wanted to go with them.                        

[the-silentium]

A story of shirts

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 -  The survivor - Part 4 - Epilogue

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader, Hunter x Reader, Crosshair x Reader

Words: 2774 words

Warnings: TESTOSTERONE.

A/N: Reader’s native language is *roll drum* French! Really original, I know! Translations will be at the end of the chapter ~

Taglist: @haloangel391​

"You gonna eat that?" Wrecker asked from your right, his chubby pointer finger signaling to your half-eaten piece of bread. 

"Yeah." You confirmed, taking more of the ration pack, reaching for the bread to illustrate. 

"Too bad." He stole the piece before you got a hold of it, hurrying to stuff it in his mouth as soon as you reached forward to take it back. 

"Wreck! It was mine!" You whined, hitting his shoulder multiple times in retaliation. 

"Cut it out." Hunter called from his spot on the other side of the fire, shooting the both of you an unimpressed glance over his water canteen. 

"But he-!" You cut yourself, not wanting to pout like a baby, instead taking a deep breath in and planning your revenge like a petulant child. 

You've been with the Batchers for a good year, flying them around different systems, perfecting your flying skills as well as developing some basic medical ones to help them when needed. 

So far, no one from the GAR noticed that you were a fraud among the army, letting you enough time to read about the GAR and become more familiar with the whole system and chain of command. You had now all the knowledge necessary to keep the lie going without a hitch. Hell, even Cody never connected the dots. 

Over time the relationships between you and each of the boys improved to the point where Wrecker would call you his vod'ika and you'd call him your frangin. 

Tech exploited his extended knowledge to gain a serious advantage over his brothers once a month. He would generously share his secret stash of candies with you whenever the first day of your period started (you were sure he did that to stay in your good favors and keep your irritation away from himself - which was working, fortunately for him). 

Crosshair would share some of his precious secrets blackmails so you could use them when the others were being annoying shits and kindly taught you how to properly shoot with blasters so you could defend yourself better.

Hunter used you as his personal enhanced senses painkiller, meaning that he'd requisition you for an hour when his head felt like it was on the verge of exploding from overstimulation, sit on the floor facing you, lean his head on your chest and listen to you singing a soft lullaby in your native tongue. 

Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Wrecker getting up from his seat on the ground beside you to get to the ship, passing right behind you to get to his destination. Swiftly, you straightened your hand, turned around and pushed the back of his knee forward to bend it with ease. 

Smirking, you admired your handy work when Wrecker yelped in surprise that his knee just gave up underneath him and crashed to the ground. 

You laughed wholeheartedly, covering Crosshair's snickers who watched you the whole time because he knew you'd serve his brother a good payback for taking your precious food. 

"You want to fight vod'ika?" Wrecker asked jokingly from his kneeled position a few feet away. 

"Bring it on frangin!" You replied, pushing your dry rations down your throat with a big gulp of water. That was something else that took some time to get used to. Tasteless water meant good water. Don't spit the good water. 

"Here we go again." Sighed Tech, rolling his eyes at banter. 

"Don't be a grinch, Tech. That's Crosshair's role." You flicked his shoulder and ignored Cross glare to get up and meet the big man who instantly went to poke your side. 

He'd learned his lesson a while ago when he punched your shoulder playfully and let you a gigantic bruise on your skin that lasted for weeks. Hunter genuinely thought that he'd hit you hard (he did, but Wrecker was excited, so you weren't mad) leading to the 'no hitting your teammates' rule. Wrecker felt bad for a while but soon you got him to cheer up and instead of fake fights, you'd do poking fights. 

Jumping to the side, you moved your foot behind his knee to repeat your previous trick, effectively making him fall on one knee and pushed him on his back with all your strength. 

As soon as he was on his back you poked his stomach, not too hard to make him sick, he just ate after all, but enough to mark your point. 

"That's for my bread!" You laughed, dodging his hands trying to grasp yours to stop you from assaulting his abdomen. 

He finally got a grab of your wrists, joined them in one of his hands and attacked your sides with his free hand, poking to the right places to have you yelp and trash around. 

"Stop! Stop!" You shrieked, pulling on your arms to free them. 

"As you wish." He grinned, opening his hand when you pulled with all your might, your elbows hitting your own abdomen and emptying your lungs from their precious air. 

You groaned for a few seconds, recovering from the blow sprawled over Wrecker's chest unceremoniously. His laugh resonated through your body, the vibrations shaking your bones and making your teeth clash together. 

"Still wanna fight?" He teased, head lifted from the ground to meet your unimpressed gaze. 

"Enough for tonight." Hunter cut you off as you opened your mouth to sass him back. 

Closing your mouth without another word, you rolled your eyes and got to your feet, following Wrecker inside the ship to retrieve an extra layer to keep you comfortable under the stars. 

You walked past Wrecker who stopped at the fresher, to enter the barracks to rummage under your pillow for Hunter's top blacks he threw at you the night prior. 

He noticed that you often stole his blacks whenever you felt cold at night in the ship, sliding under the fabric only when you thought they were asleep. You always made sure to replace it before he woke up, always neatly folded like it never left. But he knew. Your scent lingered on the fabric, a fact you forgot to think about, not that he minded. After a couple of times, he started to simply throw the blacks at your face before laying down on his bed. He knew you never got used to the cold of space, your skin remembering the constant warmth of the jungle, letting you vulnerable to any change of temperature. 

You slipped the blacks over your head, the fabric covering your three-quarter sleeve shirt without a hitch and offering you the extra warmth needed for you to be able to find sleep instead of chattering teeth for the whole night. 

Now ready to go out and bury yourself under your blanket near the fire, you walked out with a pep in your step, eager to lay down and relax for the remaining hours before a new assignment arrived and forced you all away on some dangerous mission. 

"Acceptin' the markin'?" Wrecker appeared from the fresher, wiping his hands on his pants. 

"What?" You stopped, confused at his question. Did you have ink on your face or something? 

"He means this." Crosshair answered for his brother, walking further into the ship to pinch the shoulder of the blacks on his way to his bunk where he retrieved an extra blanket for himself. 

"What about it?" 

"You're only wearin' Hunter's." He remarked, toothpick dancing between his lips. 

"Wrecker's are way too big and you'd strangle me with the sleeves if I took yours." You pointed out, a hand moving to your hip. What was his point?

"Why not Tech's?" He approached closer, clearly trying to intimidate you. It may have worked in the beginning but this era was long gone. 

"Last time I did he started hiding them so I wouldn't do it again. What is this about?" The two of them shared a look and you knew they had information you didn't, and the mere idea of it made your heart speed up a bit. 

"It wasn't Tech who hid them." Crosshair faced you again, his arms crossing at his chest, the blanket folded over one of his arms. "It was Hunter." 

It took you seconds to connect the dot and make sense of everything. Hunter started throwing you his blacks the night after you borrowed Tech's and after that, you couldn't find his anywhere again. You'd accepted the gesture and never questioned it afterward, simply thinking that he cared about your sleeping habits or something. 

He did care. But for a totally different reason. 

"He's jealous." You whispered, eyes widening to Crosshair's delight. 

At the back of your mind, a part of you was melting, the sergeant's possessiveness flattering you to no end, although another part of you found it was stupid to be jealous of his brother. You noted to talk to him about that later, but you were sure that the subject would arise rather sooner than later if the mischievous glint in the sniper's eyes was anything to go by. 

"He is. So you'll wear this instead." He took a top of his blacks from within the blanket and shoved it onto your chest until you picked it up. 

"Your blacks? Wait. Are you angry at him or somethin'?" You eyed the fabric in your hands, rolling the hem between your fingers. This wasn't a good idea. There were ulterior motives to his actions. Always. 

"Just wanna see him boilin'." He replied, rolling his head on the side a bit. 

"You wanna call him on his bullshit." You pointed out, one eyebrow slowly lifting in the air, unimpressed.

He didn't respond but his smirk told you enough, and the longer he held your gaze, the wider the grin creeping its way onto your lips became. Yes, you had feelings for the dark-haired clone, but you were fundamentally a prankster. Always in for a good laugh. Plus, what problems can a shirt do? It's a shirt!

You removed Hunter's blacks, keeping a hold of your undershirt so you wouldn't show too much to your brothers and quickly slipped into the new shirt. Sadly, the sleeves were a bit tight so you had to adjust your undershirt sleeves but you manage to replace them easily. 

You rolled Hunter's black into a ball and throw it onto your bed. 

"Don't be mean." You threatened Crosshair with a finger under his chin.

"And you don't drool all over it." He took his toothpick from his lips to poke your fingers with it. You hissed and he threw it away. 

You walked out with Cross at your side, Wrecker choosing to walk before you so you would all be close enough to see the shift in Hunter's expression. If the boys were right, that is. 

Unfortunately, Hunter seemed too engrossed in his conversation with Tech to notice your shirt so as soon as you all sat onto your respective blankets, yours placed between Wrecker's and Tech's, you leaned slightly forward toward Crosshair. 

"Thanks for the shirt Cross!" You smiled at him. 

In the corner of your eyes, you noticed Hunter straighten, head moving to you despite Tech still addressing him. Cross grunted in acknowledgment, already watching Hunter and was clearly enjoying what he saw. 

Your eyes moved to the sergeant's, who was now deeply frowning, too concentrated on analyzing your shirt that he didn't notice the four pairs of eyes scrutinizing his face, three playful, one confused. 

"What's wrong?" Tech asked, head-turning to you to see what disturbed him that much. As soon as his eyes fell on you he knew. And you felt stupid for being the last one to notice that this was happening. "Ah." That you've been stupid enough to let yourself fall into a territorial fight. 

"Not to your liking, Sarge?" Crosshair sassed, enjoying the tightness in his brother's jaw.

You started to feal really bad. And confused. Was Crosshair really interested in you too? You knew Hunter cared about you, the kisses, the hugs, the moments of vulnerability shared with one another, they all told you that you meant something more. But Crosshair’s behavior really started to contradict everything you thought you knew about him.

"What's that?" He turned to confront his brother, catching on to the fact that he'd been played as soon as he registered the smugness coating Crosshair's face. 

"Cut the crap. 's just a shirt." He rolled his eyes at Hunter's barely concealed annoyance. But it wasn't just a shirt. Not to them. 

It started to dawn on you that this was a terrible idea and that you've been played and that- oh shit Hunter's fingers closed to form a fist entangled in his blanket.

"Stop right there." You hurried to cut Hunter's words that you just knew would start a bickering war. You had to stop it before it could deteriorate to something bad because you didn't trust Crosshair to not put oil on the fire and hit every single one of his brother's nerves. To top it all, he was the one right next to Hunter. This was getting dangerous.

" 'm not wearin' anyone's shirt." 

You removed the blacks, ignoring the concert of grumbles telling you not to, rolled it in a ball, switched the ball with Tech's and used it as your personal pillow. You laid down on your back and pulled the blanket tightly around yourself, eying the stars above like you used to on Fors. 

You seemed to have done the right thing, because the rest followed your example, Tech's head burying itself in his new pillow inches from yours. A yelp from Crosshair soon followed by a smack in retaliation made you sigh, effectively cutting short their childish behaviors. 

It took a couple of minutes until the sergeant heard what he was waiting for, a soft clattering muffled by the blanket covering your mouth, the sound of your hands moving up and down your arms in hope of creating warmth and your irregular breathing that you controlled enough to keep it down but not enough to keep it steady. 

The boys had fallen asleep, Wrecker's snores echoing between the trees around, Crosshair's and Tech's soft regular breathings were easy to distinguish. 

"Y/N." He called softly to not wake his brothers, his eyes already on your subtly shaking form. "I know you're cold." 

You turned your head in his direction, frowning. 

"So? I won't get the shirt back on." You whispered, gaze moving to Tech to make sure he was still sleeping. 

"Good. C'mere." He lifted the corner of his blanket, to which you raised an eyebrow. 

"Sharing your blanket to prove yourself better, now?" 

"Just…" He pointed to the spot next to him with his head. "C'mere." 

You huffed while sitting up to look around, the three remaining clones were still out, their peaceful face illuminated by the dying fire in the center of your circle. Carefully, you got up with the fabric tightly wrapped around your shoulders, stepping over Tech's hand and reached the offered spot. 

Immediately you felt the warmth radiating off him and like a moth to a flame, you wrapped yourself around him without shame because you needed this. And because it was so unfair that he could regulate his temperature while you couldn't, so you decided that he had to share. 

Clearly, he didn't mind, his arms sneaking around your waist to keep you close and offer you more of his body heat, his head leaning down a bit to breathe in your bewitching smell and place a kiss onto your hair just as you snuggled closer and leaned your head onto his chest, one of your legs sneaking between his to get more comfortable. 

"Better?" His chest rose and downed slowly, unlike the beating of his heart beneath your fingertips. This was the first time you had this much contact with each other, the feeling not lost on either of you. 

"Yeah." You moved your head to place a kiss under his jaw and reposition yourself. "Didn't know he even liked me." You whispered, finger moving in circles over his heart, asking yourself how did this happen?

"He liked you after our first time on Fors. He was a goner after the second time." He explained truthfully, the memory of the second trip onto this godforsaken planet made him shiver in dread. How people could live in this hell was beyond his comprehension. 

You noticed his reaction and automatically reached up to dissipate the trauma with a slow movement of your fingers over his cheeks. 

"But I was there first." He smirked, arms tightening around you somewhat.  

"Don't start." You smacked his chest softly to which he quietly laughed.

--

Frangin = Brother

Next part here: A story of having each other’s back

[boonesfarmsangria]

Foals frontman, Yannis Philippakis, discusses the future of live music in the metaverse

“Are people really thinking about doing this from the position of a fan’s experience, or is it driven by commerce, commodification and a way of monetising music more than it already has been?"

I grew up around live music. My father is from a tiny village in Greece called Olympos, and music is deeply embedded in the social life there. It takes place in constricted spaces where everyone is rubbing up against each other, so it’s very intimate. Perhaps it’s unsurprising, then, that I started going to shows in Oxford at a young age, right when I was learning how to play the guitar. Attending those underground gigs resulted in a deep hunger to start writing songs, but from the beginning that was really just a vessel to being on stage. It was somewhere where I instantly felt at home, an environment that is hedonistic and rebellious but also welcoming and private. The room is dark, your parents aren’t there and there’s a bar. These sound like simple things, but going to watch loud stuff with interesting strangers when you’re 15 is a big thing. It will change you in some ways maybe. 

Over the past decade that I’ve spent playing in bands, my motivation has been to construct a kind of family out of it and a feeling of togetherness. I craved that growing up because I didn’t feel like I got that from my own home and upbringing. For me, a way of filling the void was to form my own band and communicate with people in a way that is nourishing for the self, to feel like there is some potency between what we do on stage and what the crowd is experiencing. From the start that’s what really propelled me. There haven’t been any other goals.

Of course, there was some trepidation initially. When we played Reading for the second time, after [our debut album] Antidotes was released, there was an enormous crowd that we didn’t expect. I came off the stage and remember feeling possessed. It came from the energy that had been given out by the crowd; I felt like a lightning rod for them, almost in a shamanic way. I’d never felt that before – it was so powerful that I remember thinking it should be treated with caution. Really there’s not much difference between the role of a shaman or a religious figure in an ancient civilisation and what we’re doing now. It’s the same expression, just different contexts. 

Lockdown was the longest period of time that Foals had gone without playing any shows. It resulted in a type of restless existential questioning where we wondered who we were without the rhythms of touring and live shows. Pivoting online was something that came up in conversation but was quickly swatted away; it felt like the tail wagging the dog. If we play a show and there’s a livestream of it, that’s different from fabricating something to play virtually. It’s to do with the way we play as a band – the physical volume of our shows, the fact that we need to see a crowd and a mosh pit. It needs to be sweaty, chaotic, and that’s just not going to happen in a virtual space or the metaverse, because right now at least, it’s intrinsically sterile. 

I’m all up for playing a show and having methods for that to be democratised and accessible so people from disparate places can plug into the show in a way that is affordable. This would also mean that we’d be able to tour less, which is beneficial from an environmental and personal standpoint. We’d fly and freight less, but bands are also making the majority of their money from live tours these days, meaning that they often perform to the point of burnout. It would be nice to have some kind of correction, so we’re able to do both without the maniacal drive we have when we know that our income rests on performing live. 

Fundamentally, though, we’d have to feel like the performance isn’t compromised, nor the ability for the performer to lose themselves in it. Dabbling in this stuff would have felt calculating and sanitised over the lockdown period, but I’m not sure to what extent that was determined by the quality of the technology at hand, which is now advancing rapidly. Currently I don’t feel like there is an immersive experience that would have the wow factor, they’re all pale facsimiles of the real experience. If there were a virtual experience where you’re plugged in like in a Black Mirror episode, and it’s more intense than reality and can fry your neurones, then you’ll have something to discuss.

And one probably needs to question the motives. Are people really thinking about doing this from the position of a fan’s experience, or is it driven by commerce, commodification and a way of monetising music more than it already has been? I don’t believe it will be structured in a way that would be of real benefit to artists, and even if it does become organised enough and the technology is there, it will undoubtedly become another front of business. I don’t think I’m being overly gloomy, but we’re not looking at some democratised, unfiltered, musical utopia when the metaverse takes shape. 

As a band, Foals is more susceptible to the crowd than many others because of how porous we are with the audience. If they’re going bonkers and throwing out all this energy, that in turn shifts the show into something rapturous. And when we’ve played to a crowd that is disinterested or in a corporate environment, we don’t play well and no one has a good time. That’s my concern with the metaverse: are we going to walk away from a virtual performance and feel like we cheapened something that was powerful, spiritual and joyous by putting it into something cold, remote and sanitised? If there were a creative, enriching way of facilitating something like that we would be interested, it just has to feel and be right from all angles.  

Still, it’s interesting that we’re even talking about this right now. Surely, after a period of protracted social isolation and a lack of live events, the timing is strange. It’s so powerful to be back in a room with people, and one aspect of the Covid-19 pandemic was realising just how precious and fundamental being together is to being human. What is so powerful about live music exists in the corporeal reality. It’s in the smell, the darkness, the fact that you’re looking the performer in the eye, that your body is physically reacting to volume. It’s going to the bar… the journey to and from the gig, when you talk with your mates. Hopefully it won’t be replicated. It should remain in the here and now.  

HUNGERMAGAZINE || Interview || hunger.tv

[kerie-prince]

We're Worlds Apart (3)

Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader

series m.list | general m.list | previous chp

warnings: cursing, angst(?), Draco being a meanie :(

summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.

a/n: not my best lmao kinda gets cheesy. anyways, Y/M/N = your mother’s name and Y/B/N = your brother’s name

(gif cred)

“Do I really have to get one?” Draco whined in the middle of the phone store, getting his very first cellular device.

“Yeah, man. It's 2008 and you still write letters. Plus, your bird took a shit on my car,” Blaine said matter-of-factly. He found it funny that Draco still used an owl post for communication; the only other person Blaine knew that still uses an owl is his 97 year old grandmother. And even she has a landline in her house. “It's just easier and quicker to use. Why wait a whole day for a letter when you can just text me and I’ll respond in two seconds?”

“I’ve never even used a wall phone, how do you expect me to use a bloody cell-phone, Blaine?” Draco was fidgeting in his seat as he waited for the store employee to finish, what was it called, a credit score? Muggles sure are weird.

She came back shortly with a small, black box that had a weird word on it. What the bloody hell is an iPhone? She explained how it turned on, all the applications it carried, and details about billing and more. Draco was still confused about the whole thing but Blaine said that he would help him understand it better.

“Well look at you, Dray. A modern wizard in America,” Blaine jokes. Draco played with the new device, working out all the kinks of it. He sent his very first text message to Blaine at that moment. Took him precisely 5 minutes to type out a very bland, simple ‘Hello. -Draco L. Malfoy’

It made Blaine laugh so hard that he held his stomach. “My god, we’re gonna have to work on your texting skills, man. First things first, you don't have to sign your name at the end of a text. I know it's you.” Blaine explained to Draco all the fundamentals of texting as they walked through the halls of Santa Marie.

Throughout the day, Draco shared his new number with his department. The more he shared his number, the faster he became at typing.

At the end of his shift, he went to a nearby restaurant where he usually picked up dinner —not one to know his way around the kitchen — and headed home.

It's been a good week for him; his mother had sent him a letter everyday, he finished setting up the guest room for Theo and Blaise, he has this new phone, and best of all, Y/N had not crossed his mind once.

Now he still hasn't accepted what she does in her free time, but also he realized that she’s not exactly harming him nor did she know what he was. He's usually busy with all the work he does, anyway. It was quite a sudden change of heart. But mostly, it was his mother that was able to talk to him and change his views.

My dearest son, had it been during the time before the war, I would have agreed with you. But you have to understand that things are different now. You're different now. Now I am not forcing you, but maybe you should just talk with her just once. If not, just ignore her. After all, she only lives next door.

When he read the letter, he could practically hear all of his friends telling him ‘She's right, you know.’ And deep down, he knew it too. So he went with her advice: ignore Y/N.

—

You’ve had a terrible week; your assistant manager forgot to count the inventory which meant she also forgot to make an order for inventory. A group of teens stole a bunch of little vials of oils you had put on display. And to top it all off, a man stood in front of your shop with signs that had biblical verses written on them, blocking the entrance way and essentially driving away any potential customers. You called security but they never came.

You were used to this happening, it's happened all your life. But that didn't mean that it didn't hurt. I'm not harming anyone, so why does this happen to me? Next week, your mother was flying in from Maine to look around the house to make sure nothing would ‘freak Stephanie out.’ 

Driving back home, you were just waiting to mix some bath salts in your tub, play music, and relax for the next couple of days. By sheer coincidence, as you pulled in you noticed your neighbor that you now knew as Draco pull into his driveway.

This week can't exactly get worse you thought as your legs carried you to his front door. With gentle knocks on the door, you waited patiently. Being rejected once more didn't bother you, but you at least wanted to hear him speak to you and try your chance to become better acquainted.

Draco opened his door, his tie was undone and he looked confusingly at you. “Can I help you?”

Panic overcame your senses and without thinking, you blurted out, “Do you hate me?” You noticed his shocked face as it was probably not something he expected to hear.

“Excuse me, what exactly are you talking about?” he asked in his entrancing British accent. It was too late to take it back, so you just kept going with it. “I’m sorry, but you moved in here four months ago and you seem to have made friends with everyone around here but for some reason, you won’t even say ‘hi’ to me. Did I offend you or something?” You sounded exhausted and sad. Not only at the week you just had, but how Draco wasn’t being so neighborly with you as he was with everyone else on the street. It bothered you so much to no end. And the most frustrating thing was that you didn’t understand why.

“Uh, I apologize that we haven’t been on speaking terms but I don’t think I have to talk to you now, do I?” Draco scoffed. Why is he being such a jerk? “I’m not saying that you have to talk to me, but it’d be nice if you could at least wave or something. But instead, you look at me funny and ignore me. It’s kinda rude.” 

“Merlin, you muggles are so temperamental.” Draco said under his breath. The word sounded funny to you.

“Muggles? Did you just call me a muggle?” The look on Draco’s face didn’t go unnoticed. He stared at you for a few moments, not saying anything. What does that mean? “Is that what you call Americans in the UK? Doesn’t really sound nice.”

Draco started laughing mockingly at you, his grip on his door tightening and knuckles turning white, “Look, I don’t understand what it is exactly you want from me but I will say this; the fact that you are so offended that I won’t acknowledge you is honestly quite fucking childish and if you couldn’t get the hint then I’ll say it plainly for you now. I don’t. Wish. To. Be. Friends. With. You. Got it?” and with that, he slammed the door in your face.

Groaning out, you yelled at him through his door, “Fuck you then! I don’t wanna be friends with some rude prick!” You ran to your door and slammed it pretty hard. The sudden noise frightened your cat and made her run from her tower into your room. What the fuck is his deal? 

You walked to your room, pissed off and tired. Looking up, you saw Draco in his room. You stared each other down before you walked up to your window to close your blinds, flipping him off before it fully closed. Afterwards, you took a regular shower and went to bed. Anger built up inside you, and for probably the first time, you hated another human being. And you had to live next to him for god knows how long.

-

“I mean, did you really have to say that to her?” Ian and Ashley had just listened to Draco explain what had happened the night before. Ian just sat in the chair eating his lunch as Ashley responded to him. “I know things might be different in England, but you should’ve given her a chance. She could be nice. I have a couple No-Maj friends on my block.”

“I’m on Ash with this. Is it really all because she’s Wiccan? Be honest, Dray,” Ian chipped in. At that point, Draco didn’t really know what to say. He thought he could look past it, but he couldn’t. “Maybe, yeah. I come from two families that had very strict traditions and views of muggles. I thought I dropped those views but seeing first hand what they do and-”

“And it makes you feel like a freak? Because you’re a real wizard that can do magic and they sit in some weirdly drawn circle and ‘do’ magic?” Ashley finished Draco’s sentence, making quotation marks with her hands. “I get it, I really do. I was offended too when I had to read about No-Maj’s doing this during school. And then to see movies where witches are viewed as ugly, green-skinned hags with warts on her face and wear rags for clothes. Kinda brings you down as a kid. But I got over it. You should, too.” Ashley held Draco’s hand for a bit before she grabbed her coffee mug and left for her appointments.

Ian sat quietly, watching as Draco was sinking in everything he was advised. “Look man, it’s not really my business to be telling you what you should or shouldn’t like, and who you should or shouldn’t like. And you know what, you’re not exactly in the wrong to get mad about what happened. After all, she just kinda picked a fight with you out of nowhere.” Draco had a face that looked as if he was saying ‘Right? I’m not crazy here’

“But,” of course there’s a ‘but’, “from what I hear around the street, Y/N’s really nice. Super weird for sure, but an overall nice person. I think you should think about it.” Ian nodded at Draco before joining Ashley out of the breakroom. Draco sat there, thinking about what his friends said and also thought back to his mother’s letters. I’m such a child. And I’m the one that called her childish. If he was honest, you were but it didn’t make him better.

He knew what he was going to do after work. It pained him to have to apologize to someone. Apologizing wasn’t something he was exactly used to doing. He’s only done it once to Harry and his friends nearly three years after the Battle. He didn’t even really know what to say to you. But he’ll figure it out. Right?

-

You stood shocked at your doorstep, hands holding onto the sweater as you looked before you. “Mom, you’re here early.”

“I had been given an extra week off of work so I thought I’d just come and see my oldest baby before your brother and Stephanie comes. Also gives me a head start to plan our dinner and get this house situated,” your mother walked past you with her two large luggage cases and dropped them on your living room floor. She looked around the house and eyed all the decorations and pictures on the walls.

To her, everything was nearly normal. You had family pictures posted and some pictures of you and your friends from college. In the living room, you had a tapestry hung up behind your couch that used to belong to your grandmother. “Y/N please, will you take down that blanket? Why don’t you put up a picture of some flowers, or maybe something abstract?”

“Because I don’t want a picture of flowers and that’s not a blanket. It was Grandma’s. I want it hung up there. Ma, you gotta understand that it’s my house now.” Your arms were crossed due to the cold. You had the day off and tried to spend it well as you did your cleansing spell in the morning, but it seems that it wasn’t very effective seeing as your mother came in and immediately started nitpicking everything.

“It was cute in your room when you were a kid. But you’re 26 now. How would your boyfriend feel if he walked in here and thought ‘oh, didn’t know I was dating a 16 year old.’” Her constant criticism was nearly pushing you to the edge. “Ma, I don’t really want to argue with you tonight so I’m just going to bed-” a doorbell rang throughout the house and you were thanking whoever was listening for giving you a reason to walk away from your mother. 

As soon as you opened the door, you were met with another face that you weren’t exactly excited to see. “Can I help you?” you repeated Draco’s words from last night back at him in a spiteful tone.

Through gritted teeth, he looked at you and said, “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for being an arse yesterday. I hope we can look past it and become well-acquainted neighbors.”

“Huh, you’re sorry? You don’t really sound it.”

“I know, I’m not really used to doing this,” Draco quipped. “But nonetheless, I would still like to apologize.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’m sorry too.” You were about to close the door until your mother came up and pushed the door completely open, “Honey, who’s at the door- oh! Hello, I’m Y/M/N. And you are?” She looked at Draco with the nicest smile that you had ever seen on her.

“Hello, My name’s Draco. Nice to meet you,” he awkwardly shook your mother’s hand. He didn’t smile, but he also didn’t have the usual scowl on his face when he would look at you. Guess he does have manners. “Y/N, is this a friend of yours?” your mother insinuated with a less than discreet wink. Without missing a beat, you replied, “No. Ma, this is my new neighbor. I just met him. But it’s late, so nice meeting you Draco. See you around.” And you closed the door.

“That was rude, Y/N. You should have invited him in. He’s very cute,” your mother grabbed her bags and headed into the guest room. From a distance, you could hear your mother speak to herself, saying ‘At least this room looks normal’. “It’s kinda late. Besides, we have all the time in the world to talk.” 

You walked to your small closet and grabbed the special bath salts for stress relief and walked to your bathroom. Starting to strip, your mother barged in. “Ma! Privacy, please!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I gave birth to you. Anyways, how long has it been since he moved in? Do you think he knows about your witchy stuff?” She asked as she stood by the door, checking her reflection as you continued to undress for your bath. “I don’t really hold a sign around my neck that says I’m a Wiccan, Mother,” you said with closed eyes. Your mother said, “I hope not. Night, baby,” and closed the door.

This is going to be a long three weeks.

-

The morning came and you woke up before your alarm and did your daily routine. The only difference was that your mother was going through your pantry looking for ingredients to make breakfast. “Morning, honey. Do you want some pancakes? I’ll make your favorites! It’s still blueberry, right?”

“No, that was Y/B/N. Mine are chocolate chip and peanut butter.” You said flatly as you grabbed your watering can. “Oh that’s right. But I already bought the blueberries.”

“That’s fine, they still taste good.” Your mother was satisfied with your response and started right away. You walked out to your front yard and watered your plants along the fence. The betony plants were beautiful, its sight was calming your nerves as you poured water over them. The sound of a door closing caused you to look up, watching Draco as he was standing in his yard with what seemed like a cigarette attached to his lips before he took it out and placed it onto an ashtray that was on his porch.

He walked over to the fence that separated your yards. The smell of the cigarette was in the air and it reminded you of your late father. “I meant it last night,” he mentioned his apology. You didn’t really know what to say so you just nodded and went back to watering your plants.

“But if I recall, you did start that fight,” he chuckled. You glared up at him for a few seconds before returning to your task. “Alright, I guess I’m sorry too.” Draco scoffed and just whispered ‘Whatever’ and walked away. “Wait,” you called for him before he walked back into his house and luckily, he stopped. “I’m sorry,” you said with sincerity. “Can we just start over?”

He stared at you, visibly contemplating your question then finally said, “Sure.” He walked into his house and you stood shocked in your yard. Your mother walked out and announced to you, “Honey! Breakfast is ready! Come on, I think your plants are watered enough.” With the snap of your screen door, you were released from your daze and walked inside. Maybe this week is turning around after all.

-

Draco sat in his room, not exactly sure what exactly happened. Was he really going to try and become friends with a muggle? He could imagine the look on his fathers face. Just because he had lost in the Battle, didn’t mean that he magically accepted muggles and muggle-borns. Narcissa didn’t like them much either but she also didn’t hate them as Lucius did.

This would shock not only his parents, but also his friends, Blaise and Theo. Merlin, the person that would probably have a field day about this would be Hermione Granger. He sat there, imagining Granger either laughing at him or cursing him after all the bullying he put her through. All those years of calling her a mudblood and he becomes friends with a muggle. A No-Maj. A Wiccan No-Maj. But then he thought about what Ian said at work. Y/N is really nice. Weird, but nice. And when he agreed to having a fresh start with you, he figured that it would give you a chance to prove him wrong about what you were like.

Or she could be exactly what I always thought muggles to be. Foolish.

—

next chp

(っ◔◡◔)っtaglist: @beiahadid @malfoy-styles-wife @fivenightslaughter @juneballoon999 @leydileyla @fangirlanotherjust @originalsoulcollector @opiomancy @lipstickandloveletters

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

More therapy thoughts part 1/?

Behavior Theory Frameworks/Conditioning and What the fuck does Master Chief talk about in therapy?

Ramblings below - like a lot, like I spent too much time writing this and you should not read this

Behavioral Theory could work well as a framework with rehabilitating Spartan IIs if the case worker focused on Operant Conditioning Theory and Cognitive Social Learning Theory, which I talked about in this ask because I think I’m funny and this blog is an archive of me applying human behavior theories to video games.

Spartans have always been taught the mission comes first! Always! The 2s are indoctrinated from age 6-14 and then have that reinforced the rest of their lives. From the beginning they are taught to push themselves to the limits, earn their food by winning, form bonds with teammates but be ready to sacrifice them for the mission. The whole lives wasted vs spent conversation between John and Mendez after the augmentation surgery!

What the UNSC/ONI wants comes before their lives, the lives of other soldiers, civilians, AI etc. This constant conditioning of expectations and rewards has created the norms cemented in their minds. This becomes standard operating procedure.

Spartans are also an entirely separated social group, other people have made really great posts on how they are Othered and have their own way of communicating with body language. ODSTs hate Spartans, marines see them as cyborgs or saviors, and while they’re allies, Spartans are not seen or treated as human, by literally everyone. They are a means to an end, with the original goal being to maintain the UNSC’s position of power and crush the insurrectionists in the outer colonies, but uh oh Aliens!

Maybe the 2s aren’t as expendable as the 3s but the mindset and reinforcement of “mission first, people second” being repeated their entire lives is going to stick. So is the constant mistreatment and abuse from their fellow soldiers and handlers. 

Addressing the cognitive distortions that come from their upbringing while also balancing the fact that Spartans are so fundamentally different from the way they developed to survive would be so much work, especially considering how much information on them is given to their therapist.  The main distortion I would apply is minimization, making large problems small and not properly dealing with them, and specifically for John, personification, accepting blame for negative events without sufficient evidence. 

Like these are grown ass super soldiers who can kill you in less than a second and calculate the amount of gravity in a room on the fly but then also can flounder when trying to comfort civilians or make small talk because their experiences and values are so alien to adults who had more developmentally “normal” lives. 

Literally applying therapy to Spartans would be like, what was done to you was wrong, the ends do not justify the means, you were children and the adults in your life failed to protect you. You are a human person who is fallible and did the best you could with what you had. And the Spartan would say, “sounds fake but okay, can I pass my psych eval and go back to war now please?”

Jumping back to Behavior Theory

Different approaches to therapy under the Behavior Theory umbrella help modify negative behaviors with treatments like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical behavior therapy that teach individuals adaptive coping like emotional regulation, distress tolerance, cognitive distortions, and interpersonal communication. And that’s just one framework under the umbrella of human behavior theories.

Social work therapy is different from psych as it approaches individuals with heavily researched, evidence-based theories and frameworks in a holistic viewing of person-in-environment, instead of a strong focus on internal psychology. 

Social work looks at all the interacting systems, environment, history, and internal and external factors affecting an individual. One of the most useful frameworks is the Biopsychosocial-Spiritual Frameworks (BPSS) when helping a client. It helps with identifying all the intersecting factors, both risk and protective, that shapes a client’s lived experiences. The most important thing to remember is that the individual is an expert in their own life, they know their experiences best.

The hardest part is applying this to Spartans because they Are So Fucked, their lived experiences, their environments and systems and institutions interacting with them, and the amount of their personal information that is probably so classified.

BPSS is a tool to help social workers assess individuals and their situations by collecting info that is related to the presenting issues and current and past circumstances. Info like medical history, hospitalizations, substance abuse, mental illness, personal relationships, family history and background, culture and norms, education, legal history, spirituality and participation etc. is all under this framework. 

For Spartan 2s most of this info is lost or classified and helping someone who has repressed every negative emotion they've had for the sake of the mission would be so much to unpack but that’s also why you’re reading the mad ramblings over an over caffeinated nerd on the internet.

Life Course Theory which looks at developmental milestones and the individual’s experiences versus the socially expected markers, how do you apply that to children who were taken and have lived such different lives? 

While early adolescence is when “normal” development of thoughts of self and identity take place alongside the physical changes of puberty, Spartans were being turned into emotionless calculating weapons. Sorry John, no forming a sense of identity and peer bonds for you, go kill that Watts guy who betrayed us and joined the insurrectionists. 

And now that I’ve gone this insane and opened 2 whole textbooks up, let’s get to Master Chief thoughts. If you’ve read this far thank you, I swear I’m normal, 2020 has just been a weird year. 

Why the fuck did I think I could write a therapy fic on a guy with 20 minutes of actual dialogue across almost 2 decades of games?

I make fun of him and call him a himbo, but he’s smart, he knows he’s being used and there is resentment there that’s been building for years. 

There’s also decades of trauma and combat experience, physical, and emotional abuse, the lack of a support network,  lack of an identity, the biological factors and aftermath of the augmentations and injuries he’s received, a whole lot of grief and self-inflicted guilt. 

The loss of a third of his peer group with the augmentation surgery, Sam’s death, the loss of Reach (the only place he’s considered home), Keyes, the Pillar of Autumn crew, Miranda Keyes, Johnson, Cortana. He cares about the marines who fight with him!!!

He just stands there and takes it and rarely snaps, and even then it’s just small cracks on the surface with fissures running deep. The few details I will pull from Halo 5 are Blue Team’s reactions to John pushing himself so hard from the beginning of the game, and the literal crack in his armor from the fight with Locke. Like dude.  

John’s a leader and will get the mission done but he tugs on the leash. He’s earned enough of a reputation and uses it to get his way.

Halo 2’s “Permission to leave the station” with Mr. “I’m going to hand deliver a bomb to the fusion reactor of a covenant supercarrier and hope my friends catch me”. 

Halo 4 is when we see him say no to a superior officer and then 5 is him going AWOL. Palmer literally points out that no one is going to stop him.

Halo 5 kills me for many reasons but John bringing up Halsey and what she did to him and also pointing out that he knows Halo 5 Cortana is trying to manipulate him with psychological tactics hurts. 

He knows what’s been done to him!

I cannot remember which book it was but John isn’t used to working alone. He literally takes fire because he was expecting someone to have his back! 

He’s lost without Cortana! She was in his brain! Y’all! I played Halo Combat Evolved on the original xbox when I was like 8 and I knew these two were meant to be together. From the moment they met they had great chemistry and relied on each other! Cortana literally goes after people who have it out for John! John wants her approval and shows off for her in one of the books. 

I’ve already written too much here but like all of the games have John showing off for Cortana, making dry jokes, jumping out of things he shouldn’t. 

The whole point of this rambling is to try and get my thoughts about how to approach John’s character under control.

And that’s the thing. He’s lost control. He’s lost people, he’s losing his position and being phased out as an aging spartan, a relic. John’s used to following orders and making some decisions on the battlefield but it was always short term.

He has no identity beyond being a weapon. Complete the mission, clear the LZ, get put in cryo. Rinse, repeat. 

The timeline of the games are what I'm most familiar with but with the comics and books too it’s one long run from Halo 2 to Halo 4. Cairo station to the Dreadnought to the crash landing to Forward Unto Dawn to Requiem to “The Didact is Dead but not really but we’ll deal with him off-screen”.

I know Hood apparently gave John R&R orders before Halo 5 that he ignored and kept running himself into the ground. This is a man who has to keep moving and keep being useful. 

I imagine him giving in and seeking help as a last resort to fix any problems he has with performing his duties rather than helping himself be healthier. 

Any professional he sees is going to have to approach him like they’re approaching a self sacrificing feral cat, with lunch meat and quiet. This man needs to have his support network closer, set up long term goals, and do some serious, and most likely incredibly painful, self reflection on where he’s come from and where he wants to go. Get him out of that tin can and into therapy. I don’t have a nice neat ending because this was a ramble and also therapy is not neat and tidy. Thanks for reading my words about mr halo

[purplerose244]

Thoughts journal about Season 13!! 💪💪 (1/4)

Phew, I actually made it to the English release without spoilers! 🤩 I do know general things about little plots for the ninja, hopefully nothing major! Finally, the Cole season we've all been waiting for, with Rock Mom and possibly plenty of our Earth baby development! COLE IN THE SPOTLIGHT AT LAST!! 🖤🖤

Well, I know I'll be shooting rainbows from my eyeballs if I see even one Nexo Knights reference! For the rest I don't really know what will happen, I'm curious! 🤔

It's the 6th of July, and here we go!!

GENERAL THOUGHTS

Is it just me or the dialogues sounds better? More built up, funnier, cohesive just like in the earliest seasons of Ninjago? Maybe it's just me but I'm really appreciating 🤷‍♀️

It also doesn't feel that rushed anymore! Which was my biggest problem in Prime Empire really. The episodes seem to me like fragments of a nice movie, not a too long story forced into 11 minutes. I'm very happy with the quality so far, I feel good about this for now! 👍

No matter what season it is, you can count on The Fold to make an AMAZING intro!! Freaking awesome, it was epic and very final battle like 👌👌 I WANT THE FULL VERSION ASAP!!!

SHINTARO

I do appreciate we are not forgetting about the adventures we had until now, it feels like from season 11 forward we are building a new backstory of. But they still show stuff from the very first seasons so I'm happy anyway 😍

Pff, Cole plays Prime Empire right after being trapped in it. And Lloyd joins in! YES!! Maybe there is hope for a season without greenie being traumatized! 👍👍

Also he's doing laundry because I DON'T WANNA DO THE DISHES NO MORE~ 😎

The chicken is back 😂 The constant reference to the movie we are all kinda attached to a this point (well I am, LOOK AT THE LITTLE HAT 💕💕)

Is it me being a "I've rewatched this show way too much" type of fan to feel that Nya saying that Jay using Spinjitzu for chores will get Wu mad might be a reference to how the guys had cleaned the very first Destiny Bounty with that? You think that Wu found out and got crazy mad? That would be kinda cool 😂😂

Okay, poor sensei and all, but he's kinda right 😅 I like Wu, I really do, but Aspheera was a problem kinda because of him, they all going to another dangerous realm could have been dealt a lot better if he hadn't been so on edge and in Prime Empire he freaking got kidnapped by NORMAL PEOPLE. Maybe he is getting old 🤷‍♀️

At last, he has returned...

THE ONE AND ONLY RULER OF NINJAGO, THE POSTMAN!!! 💜💜💜 Was he missing since March of the Oni? I can't remember if he was around for the Aspheera part 🤔

Soooo, not to be that person, but a secret group of royals asking the ninja to meet them in a place that was never open for outsiders before then? Kinda... feels familiar... *SoG flashbacks* 😰

Okay, not the biggest fan of Misako, but her scolding Wu was kinda fun 🤣 Needed to change the animation for her to get a bit of personality apparently 😉

Ah, you left Pixal behind to let her do... chores. Well, if you guys are happy 😒

Ninja babies all excited ❤💚💙🖤🤍💦 Also I'm excited because there is FINALLY a white heart between the emoji! I didn't notice it until now, I just need a gray/maroon heart now 😍

Jay screaming NOT MADE UP cracked me up so much 😂😂 Gosh I love my bluebell

A bit of action scene, nice, nice, also Cole going full buddy mode to save Jay gives me my beautiful Bruise vibes 💙🖤💙🖤

Well hello Brian

Looking good 💕💕 The designs are rocking in season 12 and 13, I cannot tell it enough! Super super cool

Overall nice episode, seemed more nicely focused than usual, I don't know if it's just me. I'm happy anyway 😁

Ooohhhh, so the sails were ripped off by the bats, and they were flying thanks to the soldier guys with wings. It makes sense, I was confused by the trailer, now there's the answer!

IN THE DARK

Okay, Vania introduction, I wonder what kind of princess we will get after last ti-

Vania: I'm such a big fan of you, I was the one that insisted at having you here! 🤩

... besides the fact that she sounds and looks absolutely ADORABLE, I'm kinda with Lloyd about feeling suspicious... because that's exactly how Harumi introduced herself back then 😅 And away it goes, the possibility of Lloyd spending a season without feeling disturbed or traumatized...

Ah, there we go, Cole and Vania. Soft looks, instant attention and... that's it? Idk, Jay and Nya's meeting had that one very awkward color question (💙❤💙❤), Kai literally heard romantic music while looking at Sky (❤🧡❤🧡), Lloyd was being mocked all the way by the guys as he looked at Harumi (💚😰💚😰). This one seems a bit weak? I don't mind it actually, I'm actually a bit curious about how it will develop since it started like this 🤷‍♀️

References to Hiroshi's Labyrinth and the Tournament of Elements, my fangirl heart is happy 😍 Is it too much thinking that the maze was a reference to Shadow of Ronin, since they all went there in the game while in the show only Lloyd was at the Labyrinth? Idk 🤷‍♀️

JAY SAYING COLE IS HIS BEST FRIEND, YES!! YES!! FINALLY, HAVEN'T HEARD IT SINCE SKYBOUND!!! BROTP IS BACK 🖤💙🖤💙 Also Jay confused that Vania is interested in Cole, pff, you clearly don't know the fandom 😂

But it is a bit fishy, does she knows stuff? Now I'm into it...

Lloyd sneaking in, that was creepy 🤣 And ninja like, of course

I kinda like how this is going, Cole straight up saying dude, I just met her, calm down. Like, I do understand green bean and I'm kinda on his side, but still 🤷‍♀️

Cole: I'm not just gonna jump on the lovesick wagon like you weirdos, geez

"It felt like a cloud of warm contentment." I'm gonna use this whenever someone asks me why have I been in my bed all day 😎

I know they all believed Cole was just dreaming the purple guy, but honestly they could have just said "Cole, we had flaming snakes raining on Ninjago a few weeks ago, what are you so worked up about?". But yeah, ROCK MOM FINALLY!!! I wanna know more!! 😍😍😍

Mr Sparkles 😂😂 So cute

Vania is cool for now, she is basically the innocent Harumi without a scarring tragedy from her past changing her into a vengeful villain... yeah 😅

Did Cole notice that she talks a lot and loud, kinda like Jay? Is that why he seemed a bit annoyed? 😂😂

For now they don't seem that annoyingly into each other, they look chill, no major lovesick moment or anything. I like it, I don't know if this ship will be super important or something, but at least I'm happy they are dealing with it in a different way 👍

With all these creatures chained up and a crazy dude making them work, Cole must have one HECK of a flashback from back in Chen's island 😵

Okay, I get the drama, I get the lair which is

Legit cool, with that nice Underworld vibe, but really? A wood door with ropes behind a lava fall? Security measures who? 😂😂

So Skull dude is the bad guy, and has a mask. People with masks means big reveal at some point. I like dudes with masks 😗

Aaaahhh, figures it was too easy being in a literal mine with the power of Earth. They really can't keep their powers for more than five seconds now can they 😂😂

But this seems interesting, is it connected with the burst thing they said in the trailer? Or even Cole's mom? Is this Skull Sorcerer connected to her? I HAVE QUESTIONS PEOPLE!!!

I am legit enjoying this 👌 They are building up questions and I do hope we'll get a good flashback moment with Rock mom... or even finding out if something else happened to her... EXCITED 🤩🤩

So to be the main ninja of a season lately you have to be either without powers (Kai Fire Chapter) or trapped in an unknown place (Zane Ice Chapter and Jay Prime Empire). Cole got them both 😅

IT REALLY IS ROCKY'S SEASON FINALLY 😎😎

WORST RESCUE EVER

Mm, the king is being weird, what's up with this mountain thing? Does he know who the Skull Sorcerer is? QUESTIONS

So Vania keeps being extremely adorable, I think I really like her character 💕 We'll see what will happen with her, how she will interact with the others, especially Lloyd since he seems very suspicious... can't really blame him 😅

Kai ready to argue with a king because one of his friend is in danger, THAT'S MY FLAME BABE ❤❤❤

Okay, the conflict between the two tribes, I read about this in some plots of the season. Not sure how that will play, but

I did laughed at this 😂 Sorry Mole

Okay, seriously, have we not learned anything from letting Kai come up with a plan? The notoriously bad planner Kai? The think before talking Kai? The let's follow the sun because yes Kai? I love him to dead but really, it was meant to go bad right away even if the title wasn't that 😅😅😅

AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GOT EMOTIONAL AT COLE'S NINJA-GO WHILE DOING SPINJITZU?? 😭😭 They don't say it that much anymore before spinning, it kinda hit my tornado shaped heart 🖤🖤

I expected at least a comment about them being similar to the Skulkin, too bad. Not fundamental though, I'm really enjoying this so far 👍

Well, all of the ninja are trapped now 😅 Is Wu going to come for the rescue? Is Vania? I know they will be separated and will all go on separated quests, and I'm kinda more looking forward to it now. Let's see what happens!! 🤩

THE TWO BLADES

Considering how big of a fan Vania seems to be of the ninja, I bet she had those figures way before this moment 😂

Wooooo, hearing someone addressing Cole as the leader, does this count as a major throwback to pilots and season 1? I would make it count 😍

Okay here Vania does seem into Cole, we'll see how that plays out 🤷‍♀️

Ooooooooohhhhhh, vengestone! This actually make more sense than the last two times they were left without powers 😅 We never actually saw where that material came from, and here there's an actual mine full of it! Very cool, I like this! Big question is, what does Skull dude need all this vengestone for? 🤔🤔

Okay, the legends fits, sounds good enough but... she? SHE?!? WAS THAT ROCK MOM??? She was clearly a ninja and she did spinjitzu!! I didn't even considered the possibility, I only saw Misako, Doubloon and Aspheera knowing Spinjitzu before!! An actual mom?? THAT WOULD BE EPIC!! 🖤

Pff, these tribes are a bunch of idiots, I actually like them 😂 I like them better than the rats of Prime Empire that's for sure, but maybe that's just me 🤔

Aww, this Mino creature is cure! Cole did pretty good with him, does he remind him of Rocky? ☹

Nice, this I was waiting for! Cole and Lloyd together, leaders collaboration 💚🖤💚🖤 It didn't last much, but I think there will be more of it? I HOPE SO!!!

So the blades must be somewhere hidden, if they really have been taken by the Skull Sorcerer. I mean, even in Prime Empire they thought for sure Unagami was Dyer, so I wouldn't jump on it right away 🤔

There we go, the divided team! I knew about Kai and Zane stuck together, I remember stuff not too promising about Nya having to fight for Jay, but I'm honestly really enjoying the season so far! I like the pace and it doesn't seem as rushed as before! I hope we get to some good plot twists and backstories soon!! 🤩🤩

[lu-undy]

Chapter 98 - SBT

Here it is!

"G'bye, Prof L!" 

"Goodbye, and remember to revise these crucial points, oui? This is fundamental geometry." 

"Yes, Sir!" 

"Fine, enjoy your weekend." Lucien smiled at his pupils. 

"See ya!" 

The kids excitedly left the room and the professor turned to wipe his blackboard clean and wash it. He sighed and looked down at his own clothes, dusting the chalk off of his suit. Lucien made sure that the room was in order before sitting down at his desk and correcting the papers of the week. He knew Mundy would be at the workshop still working and going back home alone didn’t feel right. So Lucien readied his red pen and took the first paper of the pile at the corner of his desk.

He was used to this routine. It allowed his lover to finish his day of work as well as not burden himself with too much over the weekend. 

After slashes of red, crossing mistakes, underlining approximations and appreciating his pupils’ work, the Frenchman needed a cigarette. He raised his head off of his papers and lit one up. His eyes swept across the room, the wooden desks, the back breaking chairs… He smiled. Teaching was something he never expected to like. And yet, making a positive difference on those children not only earned him his bread, but filled his soul. 

Children have always been an unbreakable force of nature. But dear is the price to make them thrive. They are a boiling concentrate of energy, of potential, and of hope. Lucien remembered his younger days as a rookie spy. He saw barbarism, butchery of men beyond what should exist. He saw men die on battlefields and away from them. Sometimes he himself was the one responsible for their deaths. And yet, after the deed was done, he would walk out scott free and in the streets, children would continue to play, oblivious to the danger surrounding them. 

But were they really oblivious? Non, they knew that war was raging, but even the massacre of their fathers, brothers and uncles didn’t break them. It made them, like Jérémy, kinder. Those children were growing and would no doubt refuse to subject their own children to the same amount of atrocities, to the same hard childhood. Theirs had been hard enough, too hard, unfairly so. 

Maybe that was what Lucien’s mother meant when she called him her reason to live. After his father’s death was confirmed, her mourning had lasted forever, but she rarely showed it to young Lucien. She always smiled to him, and turned away to cry. She always showed him the best of her. That, to him, was a proof of courage and strength beyond what he had seen among war heroes. His mother would remain, to the end, his model for endurance. 

“Grand Dieu, pourquoi je pense à ça…?”

[Good God, why am I thinking about this…?]

He went to the window and drew the curtains open. 

“Oh…”

His daydreaming and reminiscing had put the sun below the horizon. The streets were dark and the few people still there were moving out of the city centre. Lucien turned to the clock on the wall, above the blackboard and his eyebrows jumped. It was proper late and Mundy hadn’t come back to him yet.

“Hm.”

Lucien collected the remaining papers and put them in his leather bag before exiting the classroom. He walked to the workshop and looked through the window. A light was still on on one of the desks and a hunched silhouette so familiar to Lucien was looking down at the desk.

“Yeah, Maurice, I’ll go…”

“It is not Maurice.”

“Oh…?”

Mundy turned on his stool and his eyebrows jumped when he saw Lucien.

“What are you doin’ here?”

“I could ask you the same.” Lucien came behind his lover’s back and laced his arms around his neck. He kissed his cheek from behind. “I was waiting for you but you never came.”

“What time is it..?” Mundy looked at his watch. “Oh, bugger, I’m sorry, I didn’t see the time fly…”

“I am not surprised about this as much as I am surprised that Maurice did not kick you out of here yet.”

“He tried, but I uh… I got carried away, sorry, luv'..." Mundy lowered his head and ruffled his hair before he rubbed his eyes. 

Lucien scanned the workbench and saw the pile of broken toys and small electricals. A toaster, a radio, an alarm clock…

"You have had a productive day, hm?" 

"Well…" Mundy sighed. "Nah, not really." 

"What is the matter, mon amour?" Lucien hugged his lover from behind and stuck his cheek to the Aussie. Mundy leaned to him and closed his eyes. 

"Still thinkin' about it all. Can't really take my mind off of things."

Lucien pulled a stool and sat down next to his lover. The workshop was silent apart from the buzzing of some heater. The only light was shed by the lamp on the workbench. 

"Tell me." Lucien took Mundy's hands between his own. 

"It's my dad… I don't wanna sound dramatic but…" Mundy raised his eyes to Lucien. "How can I be sure he… I mean… He likes me still. Maybe he's never really seen me as his son, I mean…"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Lucien shook his head. "Your father is a lot of things, Mundy, one of them is your father. He does love you, he just doesn't know how to contain it or show it."

"But if he really loves me, wouldn't he be happy for me?"

Lucien sighed. 

"One would expect so, oui. But again, remember that you being with a man is far outside what he imagined you were. Give him some time." 

"If your son was with a bloke, would you yell at him like that?" Mundy asked with a serious tone of voice. 

"Of course I would not, because I myself understand the attraction towards men." Lucien answered. "But your father doesn't. It was never in his mind, he never thought it could even exist. It is a lot to take in, give him the benefit of the doubt, and trust your mother."

"Mum?" 

"She said she will talk to him. Women have a way with us that is beyond our reach…" Lucien smiled sweetly. 

"No." 

Lucien's eyebrows jumped.

"Pardon?" He asked in his mother tongue. 

"Mum's never stood up to Dad, ever. She just said that to make me feel better." 

"Mundy, a lot has happened for the past few months. I am sure your mother will talk to your father."

"Nah, you saw her. She didn't say much when we were there."

"Yet what she did say had an impact on your father." 

"What?" Mundy raised a curious eyebrow. 

"She reminded him that by faking my own death to protect you, I wasn't so different from him. In fact, I did exactly the same thing as he did. His eyebrows twitched and his breath cut for an instant. He certainly did not like the comparison but what could he argue? It was the plain truth." Lucien explained. 

"Still. Not convinced Mum would change his mind."

"Stubborn as he is, she certainly will not. However," Lucien tilted his lover's chin up with a gentle index finger. "She will plant the seed of doubt." 

Mundy looked away. 

"Yeah, well… Can't help thinkin' that he doesn't really love me." 

"Why?" 

"If… If you got a son, and you got plans for him but he keeps on not goin' according to them, wouldn't you lose hope at some point and just say 'oh, right, fuck it…'?"

"Non. I did not conceive a human being, the most fragile of creatures, to not carry the responsibility of them all my life until I am six feet under ground." Lucien answered in one go. 

"But he didn't!" Mundy raised his arms before they flopped to his thighs again. "He didn't conceive me! He found me and… and he took pity on me…" He admitted, muttering in his breath. 

Lucien put his hands on Mundy's shoulders. 

"He did take you in, didn't he?" 

"Mh." 

"Did he, yes or no?" Lucien repeated, staring at Mundy in the eye. 

"Yeah…"

"Did he raise you?"

"Yeah…"

"Did he ask you to stop hunting because he was scared for you?" 

Mundy raised his eyes to Lucien. 

"Yeah, he did…"

"This is how you know he loves you. His anger, his frustration are also proof, albeit twisted, of him caring about you. If he didn't care, then he wouldn't become half as angry as he is, would he?" 

"Yeah but… You keep on sayin' he wants me to get a sheila and stuff to be happy. So it'd make sense to think that what he wants at the end of the day is for me to be happy, right?" 

"Oui."

"Then why the hell isn't he now?!" Mundy asked. "I'm happy, I've managed, I-I've done everythin' and he can't be happy!" 

Lucien sighed and frowned. 

"I do not know." The ex-spy admitted. "I just want you to keep some hopes up, Mundy. From what I saw of your father, he is a tough man, strict on his ideas and wouldn't change them for the world. But one cannot stop hoping."

"Think I just might. I'm tired of hoping. It's so bloody tirin'..." Mundy rubbed his face with his rough hands. 

Lucien's eyebrows relaxed. 

"Then, stop." 

"Stop what?" 

"Stop hoping." 

"But you just said that I should keep my hopes up?!"

"And you answered that you don't want to, so just stop." 

Mundy stared in Lucien's eyes. It lasted a few seconds before he looked away and sighed. 

"I can't."

"Then, keep some hopes up, but don't let it eat you on the inside. Give your mother some time to work her magic on him. Things are not what they were more than a decade ago. Your mother has lost you once. She knows what it feels to lose you and from how quickly she accepted us, she is ready to make a lot of sacrifices before she loses you again."

"Yeah but if she has to choose, she'll go with him." Mundy said. "And Dad would say that the choice is in my hands. Either stay with you and lose him, or the other way around…" Mundy put his hands on his face.

"I wouldn't be so sure." Lucien answered, kissing his head. "And if it ever boiled down to that, I will be where you want me to be." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mundy raised his head to his lover. 

"That means that, as I said all that time ago, more than year ago now, making me happy is something that I cannot do. Making you happy however, is all I ever think about. And so, if you ever felt like you have to make a choice, whatever you choose, I will do what leads to your happiness."

"Lu'... Are you sayin' that you'd… You'd leave me?" 

Their eyes met and hung there. Lucien took a deep breath and cupped Mundy's face in his hands. He leaned forward and they rested their foreheads against each other.

"I will do whatever to make you the happiest of men alive on this Earth, Mundy, do you hear me?" They closed their eyes and silent tears ran along their cheeks. "I know how tired you are to run after your father, after his blessing and I understand it… I… I understand it…" Lucien put a hand on his mouth, his fingers were shaking. "This is ridiculous… I am crying now… I apologise…"

"Lu'...?" Mundy pleaded with a broken voice. "Lu', no…" 

"Non, Mundy… Your family is… It is very important to you and I understand that. You cannot replace your family." Lucien sniffled. 

"Can't replace you either!" Mundy exclaimed. "I can't! Bloody can't!" He put his hands on Lucien's waist and stood up to pull him into an embrace. "I won't leave you, love, I won't…! You left me once and I couldn't live anymore, no, please…"

"Mundy, I just want you to know" Lucien's breath cut. He sniffled and went on, his eyes still closed. "I just want you to know that… Whatever you do, I will support you… It might be hard for the both of us, but I will… I will…"

"Shut up… Shut up, I love you…" Mundy pulled Lucien to him in one go and the pin in his hair sank, freeing his long locks of salt and pepper. Mundy slid his hand under Lucien's hair, behind his head and pulled him close. "No, I won't choose. I'm tired of feelin' like shit as if it's my fault. It's not my fault, it's no one's fault, there isn't any fault… I just love you…"

"I love you too." Lucien clung to his lover's chest, digging his fingers hard, as if Mundy was slipping away from him already. "I… I never thought I could love this way… Thank you…"

The Frenchman's tears wetted the Aussie's polo shirt but neither of them cared. Mundy was almost more saddened by Lucien's tears than by his own predicament. It was rare to see Lucien in tears, especially outside of the intimacy of the sheets. Mundy clung back to his lover, his silk hair and his thin waist.

"I hope Mum'll help, I really do…" 

"Your mother is very close to you, in her heart." Lucien wiped his tears with a handkerchief and then raised it to Mundy's face to wipe him. "She will do any and everything she can to avoid the choice for you and for her. Moreover, she loves you with all that you bring with you." Lucien said and held Mundy's hand again. "The other day, she asked me to teach her how to cook a ratatouille the way that you like it." He smiled.

Mundy raised tired eyes to his lover, yet his lips pursed into a smile too.

"She loves you, Mundy. She took you in, not out of pity, but because in her heart, the moment she saw you, she knew." Lucien poked Mundy's chest.

"She knew what?" 

Lucien raised his hand to Mundy cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.

 "That she was your mother."

-- Earlier, in the street -- 

"How long've you known?" 

"Very long. Almost as early as it started."

 "Pfff…" 

"But believe me, they didn't fall in each other's arms at first sight, far from it."

"Mmh…" 

The old man grumbled, a bit disgusted, and walked in circles in the dark room. His fists were clenched. 

"Were you goin' to tell me?" 

"No, why would I?" The king of the beggars asked. "It is none of my business, Mike." Maurice paused. "Neither is it yours, strictly speaking." 

Mike froze and turned to the beggar in the long, ragged clothes. 

"Course it is! It's my bloody son!" 

"What do you want from me?" Maurice asked. 

"Is it botherin' only just me?!" 

"It depends. What does Caroline think?" 

"She's fine with it! Goes to visit them, stays for dinner and all! Pfff…" Mike removed his hat and shook his head. "How could we go so wrong with that kid…?"

"Well, then, yes." 

"Yes, what?" 

"Yes, it is bothering only you." Maurice answered. 

"Maurice…!" 

"Fine," The tall man stood up from his throne and faced Mike. "What is it? You are unhappy about their relationship."

"Yeah, that's puttin' it mildly!" He exclaimed, looking up at the taller man.

"And why is that? They are grown, reasonable men, and they both are doing it of their own accord. None is forcing the other." 

"Maurice, it's blokes."

"Yes, exactly! They are grown and old enough to know what suits them best. It just so happens that it is each other!" 

Mike sighed. 

"He told me you know him for service, right?" 

"Who?" 

"That Lucien guy."

"Indeed, I do." 

Mike walked to a chair and sat down, in front of the empty throne. 

"Tell me about him. I wanna know what kind of a man he is." 

"Ah." Maurice took a seat opposite the old man and cleared his throat. "I hope you don't have anything planned for the next hour or so." 

"What?" 

And Maurice recited Lucien's life as best as he knew it. Of course, the ex-spy had left areas of shadow and doubt in his official files, such that Maurice couldn't exactly say where he came from, or his family whereabouts. But the key message was there. Lucien was a selfless war hero who turned his back to the country that he helped to create, because that same country had attempted to backstab him, ironically enough. 

"Yeah, well…" Mike tried to feel indifferent to it all. "Does Micky know all that?" 

"He was there for his fake funeral." Maurice answered. "For which war veterans flew from across the world immediately, without receiving formal notice. All they heard was the whispers in the air flying from mouth to ear and spreading faster than light."

Mike frowned.

"Michael," Maurice started and Mike raised his eyes to him. "What is the problem?" 

The old man put a hand on his tired head and shook it.

"I… I don't know anymore. Caroline tells me all these things about how happy Micky is, how much he smiles and laughs now, how… cute they are together."

"You don't see it yourself? You think she is lying?"

"No, I know she's not lying. I know she's tellin' me the truth, I saw it with my own eyes. Never saw Micky look at someone the way he looks at him."

"But…?" Maurice anticipated. 

"It's wild. A man with another man? Pfff, I wouldn't care if it wasn't my own Micky." 

"When Lucien died, Mundy broke as hard as he did when you supposedly died. I had to push him to work, because his mind was in shambles, I had to push him to continue living even."

"He wanted to…?" Mike asked, frightened of what that last sentence implied. 

"I remember his words when Lucien's death was made official. 'It's happened twice, I don't want to live this shit life anymore.'.... God knows what he would have done if not for one reason."

"What was it?" 

"Lucien had a cat, back then a kitten. He asked me to tell Mundy that he wanted no one else but him to take care of her."

"He… He stayed alive for a cat?"

"No, Michael." Maurice answered. "He stayed alive for Lucien's cat. And that has made all the difference." 

Mike sighed and wiped his face as Maurice patted his shoulder. 

-- Mundy and Lucien's house, a few days later -- 

Lucien looked at Mundy. They were both at the table, having lunch. The Aussie had had trouble sleeping ever since that night at his parents, waking up repeatedly through the night. Holding Lucien or being held by him wasn't enough to bring him comfort. 

Lucien had woken up every time with his lover. He would hold his head against his own chest and kiss him back to sleep. Sometimes, he would get out of bed and go to the kitchen to prepare a tray with a glass of milk and biscuits or something to pass the time with Mundy before both decided to lie down and try to sleep again.

Each time they would get a visit from Caroline, Mundy's face would brighten a bit, every time they did something just for themselves too. But it was always only temporary. Mundy's mood would always gently slide down the dangerous slope that his darker thoughts paved. 

It was high time that the Frenchman tried to take his lover's mind away from his problems, for one night at least. 

"Will you go back working this afternoon?" He asked and Mundy nodded. 

"Yeah. Gotta finish some stuff. You done with your classes?" 

"Oui, I am." 

The concerto of cutlery on plates filled the air. 

"Mundy?" 

"Mh?" 

"When you come back home tonight, put on a suit." 

The Aussie frowned. 

"What? Why?"

"Put on a suit and wait for one of Maurice's boys. They will tell you where to go. You may take the motorcycle to go there."

Mundy raised his head from his plate. 

"Where am I goin'? You won't come with me?"

"Non, I won't."

"Lu', what is it?" Mundy asked, genuinely at a loss as to what to expect.

The Frenchman smirked as he wiped the corners of his mouth elegantly with a napkin.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you." 

-- Later that day --

"What are you doing still here?" Maurice pushed the workshop's door and peeked his head in.

"Workin'."

The king of the beggars fully entered the room and went to put a hand on Mundy's shoulder. 

"You should go, L is waiting." 

"Waitin'? Oh, yeah, I forgot… I need to go back home and wear a suit, he said."

"Yes, and when you are all set, go to the Maravilloso." 

"The Brazilian place?" Mundy's eyebrows jumped. 

"Yes." Maurice answered. 

"Right…" Mundy shifted away from his stool and Maurice tapped on his shoulder. "What?" 

"Have fun." 

"I'll try." 

Mundy had gone back home and quickly took a shower. 

"Meow? Meoow?" 

"Yeah, babies. C'mere… I'll give you your food…" Mundy took the stairs down and went to the cats' bowls. "Hold on… You have food and water? Why're you following me everywhere like that?" He asked, adjusting the towel around his waist. 

"Meow…!" Perle stood up on her back legs and Mundy knelt down. 

"What is it? Oh…" Both cats were begging for pets, hugs and cuddles. The Aussie ended up sitting on the floor and taking care of them for a while. "Hey, babies… What's wrong with you?" 

"Meow…" Perle gently headbutted Mundy's chest while Soot's ears flopped down. 

"What is it? What's the problem, eh?" 

"Meow." Soot answered and raised his paw to lay it flat on Mundy's chest. Perle copied him. 

"Me? Somethin's wrong with me? What did I do?" 

"Meow…" Both meowed long and sad. 

"Yeah, I might've hugged you less over the past week or so, I'm sorry. C'mere both of ya…" He hugged them both, Perle in one arm and Soot in the other. He lowered his head and headbutted them softly while hearing them pur. "I'm so sorry, babies…"

He whispered his apologies in kisses, cuddles and scratches until Perle broke the embrace and trotted away. 

"Meow?" Soot asked.

"Meow…" She swang her fluffy white tail and the male followed up the stairs. 

"Right, now… Off to put on a suit." He climbed the stairs after the slithering black and white clouds and headed straight for his room. After opening the cupboard and looking around, he found that beige suit that Lucien had ordered and got delivered to him more than a year ago now. Mundy smiled in nostalgia and took it out of its hanger. 

The Aussie started with the white shirt and beige trousers, as he remembered the last time he had worn that attire. It was to go and see Lulu, back when Lulu wasn't L yet. Ah, those days… Who would have thought that down a year from then, L and M would be together, inseparable and as close as they were in the alphabet…

Then came the bowtie and vest, before he threw the jacket on his shoulders. 

"Meow!" 

"What?" Mundy looked on his bed. Perle was sitting, observing him, while Soot was lying down. 

"Meow." 

"Love you too, baby, but Dad's gotta go. Papa'll be home hopefully, or somethin'... I don't really know what's happenin', Papa needs me to be somewhere." 

When the words exited his mouth and he heard himself, Mundy froze. 

I don't really know what's happenin', Papa needs me to be somewhere.

Now take that sentence, swap Papa for L and that was time travel, right there. That was exactly how their relationship had started, even if it was just professional. L was pulling the reins and sending the Aussie left and right where he needed him to be. And Mundy had always followed whatever Professor Ski told him to, blindly. He smiled out of nostalgia. 

"Right, I'm all set. Babies, you behave and don't go to bed too late, yeah?" 

"Meow!" Perle shouted.

"Oi! Why're you yellin'?" 

"Meow…!" She stood on her back legs and planted her claws on his legs, to climb him. 

"Claws, claws! Ouch! Let me come down to you…! There, what is it?" 

Perle started to bathe Mundy's face. 

"Yeah, I showered and shaved, no need to clean me more, baby… Oh?" 

"Meow…" She was now doing his hair. Mlem, mlem, mlem…

"Want me to comb it better?" 

"Meow." She said and sat down, backing off of Mundy's head. 

"Alright, I'll go back to the bathroom, then…" 

A minute later, Mundy came back to the front door and put his shoes on. He heard the trotting of soft paws on the floor. 

"Better now?" 

"Meow." Perle confirmed. 

"Thanks, baby, c'mere." He cupped her head and kissed her brow. When he heard the sound of the kiss, the black cat slithered from the living room to his Dad. 

"Meow?" He asked. 

"Course you can get a kiss, c'mere." Mundy opened his hands and Soot came closer. He brushed himself on his master while Mundy kissed him. "There we are, now, can I go? Papa's waitin'." 

"Meow." Both cats sat and looked up at their Dad who unlocked the door. 

"You be good babies, yeah?" 

"Meow." They both answered. 

"Right, see ya later." 

The Aussie shut the door and went to the motorcycle.

"Well, guess I'm off to the Brazilian steakhouse then…" 

He put on his helmet and the engine purred.

[cherrylining]

Kakuriyo Light Novel Volume 5: Finale

I debated whether to translate this chapter for a long time, but in the end they didn’t confirm it in the anime, so...... you’re welcome, everybody. 

Picks up after the ceremony, when Orio-ya and Tenjin-ya are saying their farewells to each other. This is from Ranmaru’s perspective (mostly. I guess.)

If you were waiting for this, thanks!

Previous chapter

My body, will be imprisoned here forever. 

My destiny, will forever be watched over by the cradle of this sea. 

Sometimes, I will suddenly want to return back to a certain destination. 

I feel that I can hear, from the far end of the sea, from the far end of the country, that there are compatriots who are calling me. 

But my body however, is still bound to this southern land. 

Maybe one day, my soul will be able to travel through the storm, and return to that country.

Dear children, please forgive my waywardness.

Isohime-sama wrote down these words in her notebook. 

This is the handwriting left by her after the failure of the ceremony, just before she slept forever in the filthy cave. 

.

“Ranmaru, do you hate me?”

While looking at the majestic sea in the south, Ginji asked me. 

I stroked Nobunaga’s back in my arms, and laughed. 

“You ask me this even now? Didn’t you make up your mind to leave Orio-ya already?”

“But……”

Ginji’s silver hair fluttered in the wind, and his face still carried an earnest look. 

“In the end, I just evaded the fate of the southern land and put all the responsibility on you.”

“......”

“Only I was free. But Ranmanru, you have always been here……”

“Ha! Ginji, you are still as naive. I thought you were using your own way to accomplish this mission.”

“What?”

What does this mean- Ginji showed a dumbfounded expression, as if these words were written on his face.

He has so much capability in doing business, but sometimes he could still be so natural. Really, it’s unbearable. 

“Your decision to leave then was a turning point, just like this time, and triggered a series of fates in the end. You returning, this fact alone, has already brought many additional good things.”

“Additional…… are you referring to Aoi-san?”

“Not only that woman. I’m also referring to the Odanna of Tenjin-ya, the Fuyin couple, and many others that were also affected by you. Thanks to them, this ceremony ended with a great success- I knew by my intuitions that this time it would be successful, and until I had been notified by that messenger of the water mirror in the palace giving out a good omen, could I really confirm it…… But this success is by no means only on the surface. I also feel that I, who had been trapped for so long within the stagnant waters, being unable to escape, has finally been able to take a step forward.”

“......Ranmaru.”

These words, so different from what I would usually say, made Ginji feel overwhelmed. 

However, the truth is that aside from achieving success for the ceremony this time, we have also received considerable gains in reviewing the form of the ceremony. 

Although there is no way to know how long the ceremony of the southern land will last in the future, we must rethink how to receive the Umi-bouzu. 

‘Entertainment’ should not be a ritual dominated by fear and silence in the past, but should be full of warmth. 

Being able to find a view like this, that not even Isohime-sama had seen, could be possibly because we work in the industry of ‘inn’, and thus were able to find such an answer. 

“In the end, the Umi-bouzu was just an ayakashi who was locked in the darkness and led a lonely life.”

“That place…… is it actually the dark side of the Eternal Realm?”

“Who knows. The only thing that is certain, is that the Black Sea at the other end will open once every hundred years, allowing impurities to pour out, causing disasters. But the Umi-bouzu isn’t an impurity, I think…… he probably exists to manage the impurities there.”

“An ayakashi to manage the impurities……”

Assuming that both the treasures and kagura dance were both necessary procedures to purify filth, the function of the ‘ocean treasures’ was different from the beginning. 

--Only to satisfy the Umi-bouzu. 

As for why his displeasure with the banquet would lead to the ceremony to fail, one of the reasons probably lie with whether he had enough “power” to keep the filth back.

In some respects, this power may refer to whether he ate enough and whether he was in good spirits. Although it sounds cheap, I think everyone can understand that without this banquet, the ceremony would not be successful.

From this point of view, the food and hospitality provided by Tsubaki Aoi this time were indeed surprisingly good. The reason lies with the fact that her cooking improves the “spiritual power” necessary for the survival of all youkais. 

“Ginji, you made the right choice to initially leave. If we had both remained here, maybe we would not have been able to see these facts. It was you who led this ceremony to success.”

“No…… how could it be, Ranmaru. The effort that I could give was limited, and it was all thanks to Aoi-san’s help���…”

“Ha! And that was all thanks to you that we could get her to act. DIdn’t she do all this, just to bring you back?”

“......”

Ginji suddenly looked up at Tenjinmaru, which was stopped at the docks.

His eyes followed the target of Tsubaki Aoi, who had poked her head out from the deck to bid farewell to the twins. 

Even I, who had known him since young, seemed to have never seen before the warmth that was contained in his eyes. I think to myself, this really is……

“Haha! I really think you are a guy who likes picking the hardest road to walk.”

“What?” 

“Falling in love with that woman…… you will be the one who suffers in the end.”

“......”

Ginji’s eyes slowly widened.

Seeing this guy’s surprised and speechless appearance, I could only speak happily. 

“Alright, you should quickly go back. Your home is not here anymore.”

I patted Ginji on the shoulder, then left him and walked towards the front of the pine forest to meet the other groups in Orio-ya who came to see them off. 

Glancing back at Ginji, he looked thoughtful and stared at the sea again. 

After a while, he quickly climbed onto Tenjinmaru. 

“Ah ah, that’s right, you should quickly go back. Just cherish the most important person in your heart right now, and it will be fine. Take care, my stupid brother.”

That will definitely change our way of survival in the future, and bring us good luck. 

Tenjinmaru, which Ginji had boarded, set off not long after, and left here. 

Carrying Ginji and the hero of this time, Tsubaki Aoi, returning back to where they should go. 

“Goodbye!”

“Take care!”

“The clouds are gathering in the sky, watch out for the rain!”

Orio-ya’s employees and Tenjin-ya’s were fundamentally enemies of each other, but by the time they parted, they had formed a connection worthy of saying farewell to. 

I thought this was a strange chance, and I smiled wryly. 

“Hmph!”

“What’s wrong, Nobunaga?”

The normally well-behaved Nobunaga started rubbing his nose against my chest, whining frequently, looking up at the sky with an uneasy expression, and extended his tongue. 

Do you want to leave this place also?

--He seemed to question me like that.

“Ha! Nobunaga, what nonsense are you saying. I like this southern land…… I, and my body, will coexist here with Orio-ya forever.”

My body, will be imprisoned here forever.

My destiny, will forever be watched over by the cradle of this sea. 

Sometimes this heavy burden will also make me feel overwhelmed, thinking of what Isohime-sama said.

But I have never thought of flying far away, nor did I want to run away. 

This magnificent southern sea endows me with grace, and I will be able to dare continuously. I have only this awareness.

Together with the companions of Orio-ya.

The beam of light shot into the sea from the other side of the sky illuminates us, who have struggled in the dark clouds and are finally breaking through.

Just like a blessing brought from the deceased person I love and respect, Isohime-sama. 

[waiting-for-ciena-ree]

Why does it matter if Kreia is Arren Kae?

Solving the mystery of Kreia’s backstory was the most fun I had playing KOTOR 2. I think that her past as Arren Kae is brilliantly woven in the game’s subtext. I don’t view it as an inconsequential theory; to me, it is fundamental to understanding both Kreia’s character and the game itself. As I played through the game twice, I loved talking to my crewmates, because they each helped me understand the nature of Arren Kae and Revan’s relationship. However, in my experience in the KOTOR fandom, I’ve noticed how everyone interprets Kreia differently. And I was disheartened to see that a lot of people don’t like the idea of Kreia being Arren Kae. Other fans simply think it doesn’t matter if she is or not. So I decided to articulate myself why I love this theory so much!   It boils down to this: it matters that Kreia is Arren Kae because Revan tried to kill Arren Kae on Malachor V. That betrayal transformed Arren Kae into Darth Traya, and it informs Kreia’s present relationship with the Exile. Arren Kae was one of the Jedi Knights that Revan sent to fight on the ground when the Exile unleashed the Mass Shadow Generator, destroying almost all life on the planet. In spite of this betrayal, Kreia still cares for Revan. She constantly makes leaps in logic to justify Revan’s actions, calling their descent to the dark side a “sacrifice” instead of a “fall.” If we want to understand why Kreia betrays the Exile, we must first understand why she would justify Revan’s betrayal of Arren Kae. For Kreia, the lesson she internalized at Malachor V was the paradoxical idea that you must be willing to kill the people you love in order to save them. This is why Arren Kae “died” and Darth Traya was “born.” “I kill them because I love them” is a recurring motif in the game, expressed by Atton, Hanharr, Sion, and even Atris. It’s only natural that this theme resonates with the game’s most important character, Kreia; and with the game’s most important relationship (the mother-child relationship between Kreia and the player); and with the game’s most important setting, Malachor V. For all these reasons, Kreia’s secret past as Arren Kae is essential for my understanding of the game.

I see two primary reasons for why fans either dislike the theory, or else they enjoy it but don’t take it seriously:

Fans often consider “Kreia = Arren Kae” to be an unfinished idea that didn’t make it through the game’s development, since much of Kotor 2 is already woefully unfinished.

Fans may think that the most important fact about Arren Kae is that she is the Handmaiden’s mother. Since Brianna only joins your party if you play as a masculine Exile, and since Kreia’s relationship with the Exile is more important than her relationship with Brianna, you could argue from this perspective that it doesn’t matter if Kreia is Arren Kae. After all, Brianna and Kreia barely interact.

Neither of these reasons work for me. First of all, while the writing for Kreia’s past is subtle and mysterious, I believe her past is important enough that all of the necessary clues are there, even in an unfinished game. I also prefer the writing if it is implicit rather than explicit.

Secondly, I think it is deliberate that Kreia’s relationship with Brianna is less developed than her relationships with Revan and the Exile. According to the Disciple Mical, Arren Kae was Revan’s Jedi Master. Since Arren Kae was forced to give up her biological daughter Brianna, the only child she was allowed to love and raise within the Jedi Order was her Padawan Revan. Therefore, it only makes sense that Revan would have a bigger impact on Arren Kae’s life than either Brianna or Yusanis.

It also gives an extra layer to how painful it would be for Arren Kae to be betrayed by her “chosen” child, Revan, since Arren Kae had already sacrificed a potentially happy life with Brianna in order to remain a Jedi.

I also think that a lot of fans miss the plot point that Revan tried to kill Arren Kae, since it isn’t stated directly. Additionally, the idea that your beloved OC Revan would want to kill someone as nice-sounding as Brianna’s mother is distressing. I’ve seen how some fans dislike how KOTOR 2 adds further backstory for “their” Revan, since it is beyond the player’s choice. But personally I love that Obsidian did that, because I think it’s smart writing. After all, the entire point of the “Darth Revan reveal” in the first game is that you are supposed to be appalled at your player-character’s secret uncontrollable past. So, adding on that Revan tried to kill their own mother-figure? That works for me.

While other people have focused on showing the clues for how Kreia is Arren Kae, I’m just going to focus on why Kreia is Arren Kae. So let’s simply look at the three clues that tell us that Revan tried to kill Arren Kae:

By talking to Mical, you learn that Arren Kae was Revan’s Master.

By talking to Brianna, you learn that Arren Kae “died in the battle that shattered Malachor V, and her body was never recovered.“

And by talking to Revan’s droid, HK-47, you learn that Revan’s "true target” at Malachor V were the Jedi. Not the Mandalorians. The Jedi.

I believe that HK-47’s speech is one of the most important revelations in the game. He is the party member who was closest to Darth Revan during the Jedi Civil War. As an assassin droid, he gives a cold, calculating “observation” that “Revan was ‘cleaning house’ at Malachor V.” He notes that “if you examined the records of the deaths on Malachor, […] you cannot escape that many of the Jedi and Republic soldiers who died were not Revan’s strongest supporters.”

Significantly, the game distinguishes between Revan and the Exile’s motivations at Malachor V. No matter how bloodthirsty or dark-sided you make your Exile in the present, the Exile was still unaware of Revan’s master plan in the past; the Exile believed that the true target were the Mandalorians.

Beyond HK-47, other characters speak kindly of the Jedi who were targeted on Malachor V. If Mical is in your party when you fly there, he will say, “And all the Jedi who followed Revan, the true Jedi, died at Malachor V.” He is praising the Jedi who went to fight to defend vulnerable people in the Outer Rim against the Mandalorians, but did not follow Revan into the Jedi Civil War. To him, they are the only “true Jedi.”

While HK-47 gives a cold, calculating analysis of why Revan wanted to kill Jedi, there is another character who gives a more romantic analysis: Hanharr. The dark-sided “robot” and the dark-sided “monster” each have a different reading of Malachor V. Speaking for myself, I had trouble understanding Kreia until I met Hanharr as a Dark Side Exile. Hanharr, the “mad wookiee” who killed his tribe to save them from slavery, is the only crew-member that Kreia invites on board. When you ask her why, she tells you that “the beast is a lesson in strength.” I think that Kreia sees herself in Hanharr, more than anyone else. When Hanharr finally tells you his “true lesson of strength,” I think it gives insight into Kreia’s own beliefs:

Hanharr: Madness is not always that to one who can see it for what it is.

Hanharr: The lesson of strength is this - it is not having the strength to kill those you hate, but those that you love. Strength is when you crush their lives beneath your hands, murder them to save them from falling into the Shadowlands, as you have.

Hanharr: You know what happened when you killed the tribe of Mandalorians. And why the Jeedai had to die, so they did not become as the Mandalorians do. It was a coward’s way of killing, but the choice was strength. To kill your brothers and sisters, those of the tribe who stood with you in battle.

Hanharr: I am here because you showed me what chained me, and there is much I may learn from you. There is strength in such things - and you will know this, when you go into the place all exiles go. When you are willing to kill everything you love - and everything that walks and breathes hates you. When you are willing to leave paradise behind, to curse your life for all time. And know that you did to save another. And to show the galaxy what prey is. This is the lesson of strength, human.

Again, Hanharr is misidentifying the Exile’s motivation for using the Mass Shadow Generator on Malachor V, because the Exile did not mean to target the Jedi. But if we take HK-47 at his word, and if we accept that Revan was the true mastermind behind the destruction of Malachor V, Hanharr is instead justifying Revan’s choice to target the Jedi. And Hanharr’s analysis is quite remarkable. He is saying that Revan targeted the “true Jedi” because Revan loved the Jedi. Because Revan wanted to prevent the good “true Jedi” from becoming monsters themselves.

If we apply Hanharr’s analysis to Kreia’s situation, he is saying that Revan’s attempted murder of Arren Kae was an act of mercy, not simply “cleaning house” of “disloyal soldiers.” It was an attempt to “prevent a greater evil”–the evil in which Arren Kae is compelled by the Force to join the dark side. Which is exactly what happened to all survivors of Malachor V, except for the Jedi Exile, who exercised their free will by abandoning the Force in that moment.

Now the question becomes: is Hanharr right? Did Revan actually love Arren Kae? This time, my answer is: it doesn’t matter. It only matters that Kreia wants to believe this is the truth. If you ask Hanharr, “What prey does Kreia seek?” He will answer, “She hunts truth, I think - and she seeks it in you. And truth is dangerous prey - difficult to seek, and difficult to face. And with greater desperation, she hunts that which runs against that truth.” What runs against the truth? I think that a person’s longing to be loved often “runs against the truth.” Kreia’s love for Revan and the Exile “runs against the truth” that these two people worked together to destroy all life on Malachor V, including her own.

What better way to show the emotional impact of Revan’s betrayal of the “True Jedi” than by making the game’s most important character a survivor of that attack? And by characterizing her as someone “who has been betrayed in the heart, and who will betray in turn”?

Kreia was betrayed in the heart. Kreia did not love the Jedi Council, and her alliance with with the Sith was “fragile” and “based on hatred.” Even though the Jedi Council exiled her, and the Sith violently exiled her, they did not “betray her in the heart.” They did not kill Arren Kae and create Darth Traya.

The person who betrayed Kreia in the heart was the person she loved more than anyone else: Revan.

The person who betrayed Kreia was you.

“There is no great revelation, no great secret. There is only you.”

“You”–the player character from the first game–you were the one who betrayed Kreia. Though as the ignorant player, you have “lost your memories” of this.

But Kreia did not forget, and your betrayal twisted her into something monstrous.

And now she will betray “you” in turn, as the player character of the second game.

She will do it because she loves you. She loves you because you are the player and because you have an extraordinary capacity to exercise free will in a predetermined story.

She has always loved you, ever since she was Arren Kae.

[soysaucecas]

oooh for the ask game 24, 30, and 44!

MAGPIE MY BELOVED HELLO

24. What are your favorite episodes?

The only episodes I've really watched are TMWWBK (which is my favorite episode and I'm certain would still be my favorite if I watched every single one because it has the only SPN character and the only SPN line), The French Mistake (which was funny enough but honestly in the Just Okay category for me, which makes me pretty sure I wouldn't enjoy actually watching SPN if this is one of the funniest/highest-rated eps), and Reading Is Fundamental (my best friend was watching it and asked me if I wanted to hop on Discord, I thought it might be fun to see Kevin's first introduction but instead this ep found the two of us taking like 90 minutes to get through it bc we kept pausing and screaming (derogatory) as the model minority stereotype jokes piled up and up and up... Unfortunately not a favorite even if we got Meg AND the "pull my finger" joke AND the "Sorry" shot). Other than TMWWBK, from clipping and transcript-reading, I like Wayward Sisters (who doesn't?), The Things We Left Behind (Claire!!!! Cas trying to be a dad! The diner scene aka my favorite destiel scene of all time bc being in love just looks so good on Cas! Also the parallels between Claire and Randy and teen Dean and the adults at that club in his story... woof.), Golden Time (Eileen gets to be HERE and be sad and loved and fight people with ghost powers and Cas gets to do a cool speech and a stabbing and do the Asian community a favor), and Lucifer Rising (just immensely sexy on all counts for Ruby, Sam, Cas, and myself). Also I am SO fond of Steve!Cas so I'll add Heaven Can't Wait even if I barely know anything about it.

30. What is an unpopular opinion or headcanon you have about the show?

Ooh okay hm I think. So I adore confession scene, but I don't think the "I cared about the whole world because of you" is like. The Objective Truth the way that most bloggers seem to take it. Cas was lobotomized tons of times before he met Dean, he was described as coming off the line with a crack in his chassis, he's always been the weird little angel who likes humanity too much! I don't think Dean came first, and although gay love was part of what helped Cas invent free will, he *Ruby voice* didn't need the feather to fly, Dumbo! I do think Cas believes what he says in the moment, but I also think he sorta... made himself believe it? This is probably just me deciding that cas-coding should go both ways, but like. I very much crush as a coping mechanism and I very much overascribe my actions to love because it simply seems more noble/poetic to do so. Being miserable because school is hard is cringefail but being miserable because of unrequited love is Good Shit. And I have been in unrequited love with my best friend for at least 7 years (probably 9 but I didn't realize it earlier) and if you asked I would 100% say that she taught me love and defined love for me and that she will be my first and last, but I also know that that is not entirely true; it's just the narrative that I like for myself. And I think that being in an Empty deal contingent on whether or not he LETS himself feel happy would lead Cas to do plenty of mental maneuvering, which I think involved intentional self-poor-little-meow-meow-ification via overascribing his choices and happiness to Dean (and I also think he'd already been doing that for a while just because of personal self-worth issues and because it's a nice narrative). I know as Cas's last Moment on the show it was probably written to be The Objective Truth, but I am perceiving him and I say no.

44. If you could write an episode of Supernatural, what would happen?

Oh scream okay! This is a fun one! I am going to start out with two ideas from other people:

1. Months ago Nate from the pocnatural discord had the idea of an episode from the "monster"'s perspective where the Winchesters are just clearly the antagonists while not doing anything different than they usually do. I think the idea was that all these supernatural beings live in a self-regulating community together and we have one Very Likable pov character who's a member of this community, but one of the newer members messes up one day and kills someone and the Winchesters come on a case and wreak havoc on this Very Much Functioning (there was going to be a whole rehab and reparations thing for the new member who messed up!) system and kill pov character and in the end you just HATE Sam and Dean for it.

2. It's hard to adapt anything from bad moon rising (aka my favorite spn fic) very well because the point of an Arab Winchesters season 1 rewrite is that it doesn't really work with the white characters we have now, but I think I could see a version of chapter 2 adapted as long as Haley (an Ojibwe hunter who lives in the area affected by what Sam and Dean are hunting) takes the lead. I'd especially like to see this section:

Dean laughs, a little disbelievingly. The question has never crossed his mind. “Do you like it?”

This gives Haley no pause at all. “Yeah,” she says. “I mean, it’s not really about killing monsters, though, for me. Or, it’s not always about killing monsters. It’s about community. Not violence. It’s a spiritual thing to build a home, you know?”

“Oh,” Dean says. He can’t think of anything else to say. It has never crossed his mind before that hunting could be compatible with a community.

I don't have any original episode ideas to add to the hunting discourse, so we're on to my ideas about character-driven eps. I think I would like to see a version of my sastiel possession fic (ty again for beta-ing that! you're a real one) as an ep around the time of 9.11 because Sam deserves to work through their trauma, but idk what the Dean plot should be for that. Another thing I would like very much is TFW drunk history storytime (so like. Tall Tales bass boosted), where for some reason they all need to go over what they were doing during Stanford era but each of them is telling someone else's story. It's gonna be either Sam->Dean->Cas->Sam or Dean->Sam->Cas->Dean. It starts out very funny (they all have terrible wigs and makeup in the flashbacks. Cas is Jimmy wearing a giant mask with googly eyes on it.) but as it goes on it gets increasingly sad how much these three don't really know each other.

In the Sam->Dean->Cas->Sam episode, Sam's telling of Dean's past veers wildly between "crushing pussy and killing things" and "feels like absolute shit all the time" and it's funny but Not Right and afterwards Dean goes "I didn't know you thought of me that way" and Sam says "... I am basically reading off the voicemails you left me back then" and Dean has to sit there and contend with the mythology he himself wrote for Sam to believe in. Dean->Cas provides the comedic beats for the episode as Dean awkwardly narrates Cas's Life As A Weird Little Guy who watches trees grow and heals babies and in the end Dean goes "so how did I do" and Cas is like "well actually I was either getting lobotomized or murdering people so like 3/10?" The moral of this plot line is that Dean is bi. Cas gives a fairly faithful retelling of Sam living her trans little life at Stanford and veering between trying to be Normal and being a total weirdgirl and feeling guilty and angry and happy and free. It becomes clear that Cas admires Sam a lot (but also feels like. guilt and some self-recrimination for not being that) for rebelling from their dad and exploring their queerness during a time Cas was still to his knowledge in total soldier mode, and Sam is having an a_good_soldier's Thesis 5 moment about how she failed the kid she used to be and how very sorry they are about all the things that happened to them, and Dean hates that this is the first he's hearing about so much of this but is also quite emo about the parts where Sam is struggling. The ep ends with them all in the same room not looking at each other and not knowing if they want to group hug or never talk again.

Dean->Sam->Cas episode is similar but the storytelling dissolves a lot faster as it becomes clearer way faster how much their own emotions are getting in the way. Dean is upset that Sam could leave their family so easily and probably swing a normal life, Sam keeps wondering what it would be like to live millennia just KNOWING that you were right and good and clean, and Cas is gay and veering between fitting Dean's life into a larger Righteous Man narrative and just being very tender (and sad and angry) about Dean's pain. Episode ends in a rather cathartic shouting match where they all end up apologizing to each other for many things.

Oh also I would like to see Cassie again but I don't have an episode in mind there. Also would love to see Kaia adjusting to life in Sioux Falls and befriending the others and dealing with Bad Place trauma.

tysm for the questions sorry for taking so long!

(ask game)

[knifeonmars]

“I let them in and they broke me” The Worldview of Batman: Last Knight on Earth

Batman: Last Knight on Earth, from DC Comics' "mature readers" imprint Black Label, is supposedly the final word on Batman from the team of writer Scott Snyder and artist Greg Capullo, who have worked together on the character in some capacity since 2011's New 52 relaunch. This claim to finality isn't entirely convincing given that Snyder and Capullo's current Death Metal event series is also about a Batman and his friends fighting a bunch of evil Batmen, but for the sake of this examination, I take Last Knight on Earth at its word. As an experience, as a comic, Last Knight on Earth (hereafter LKoE) is really good. Snyder and Capullo are both heavily invested in the character and they're firing on all cylinders here, throwing out off the wall ideas which would never fly in the mainstream DC Universe and giving us lovingly rendered, absolutely beautiful pages of devastation and violence. It's a feast and a thrill ride, but it's also not going to be for everyone because it is deeply, deeply misanthropic in its politics. LKoE, more than anything else, is about disappointment in humanity, but where it goes with that disappointment is fundamentally conservative and nostalgic.

To understand this, it's important to know that Snyder's take on Batman has always been grounded in post-9/11, post-War on Terror urban fears. Batman had long been rooted in the urban fears of the 1980's; crime run amok, overwhelmed and inadequate police, etc, thanks to the influence of Frank Miller, a man who was famously mugged multiple times after moving to New York City and wasn't shy about reflecting that feeling of helplessness and anger in his work. Snyder's Batman, by contrast, was not a terrifying spirit of vengeance, but a shining beacon, a folk hero and aspirational figure, Snyder's Batman is heavily informed by the Obama era. LKoE is about this Obama era optimism, naivete if you like, crashing against the reality of the 2016 election of Donald Trump. It's not subtle in its allegory; the apocalypse of LKoE is set off by Lex Luthor and Superman having a debate about good versus evil and the people of Earth democratically "voting" in favor of evil, then rising up and destroying the world. They even come into the halls of power, or rather JLA HQ, the Hall of Justice, and destroy the very people who tried to protect them. The horror at the heart of the book isn't Trump, it's the idea that people are horrible, stupid, and selfish.

It's unrepentant in this misanthropy, but also noncommittal. For a book about how bad ordinary people can be, there are shockingly few of them in this book. There's no Carrie Kelly, no Harper Row (Snyder's own creation, who even he has evidently forgotten about) in this book, no one to push back against the idea that people in general are bad. There is no mention, no glimpse of those who didn't want this, who "voted" for goodness, the election condemns them all, renders humanity as a whole into a monolith of ravenous, mindless evil. The closest we get to confronting this monolith is the Slingers, ordinary humans who tried to use Green Lantern rings, and because they lacked the will to control them properly, have become giant, mindless, evil, energy babies. It's an evocative and amusing image, but the politics of it are distasteful: "This is you." says LKoE, a big baby, totally unprepared for a power which should only be placed in the hands of the chosen elite. One (1) single ordinary person gets to speak in this book; a toe-headed little boy who talks to Batman for just over a page, little more than a cardboard cutout, that's it. For a book that's about humanity's evil, LKoE is completely unwilling to look that evil in the eye.

The final enemy that Batman must confront isn't a Trump analog, it's not even humanity's selfishness as a whole, it's Omega, and who is Omega? Batman, but broken. Omega is the original Bruce Wayne, tortured and mutilated in the aftermath of the "election" as humanity descended into an orgy of self-destruction and violence, now having pieced himself back together as a totalitarian, mind-controlling villain who wants to protect humanity from itself. He could, charitably, read as the rise of fascism in light of chaos, the fear of the guy who comes after Trump, the cleaner, more articulate monster who can really get things done (though such a fear already seems outdated given Trump's efficacy in perpetrating horrors),  but I think that misses that mark. Omega is Batman as a blackpilled doomer, someone who has looked into the face of what humanity is capable of and given form to his misanthropy. Our Batman, the hero of the story, is a clone of this fallen Batman, with matching memories that stop just short of the "election" and his fall from grace. He's the same guy in every way that matters, the only difference is that he was never traumatized, he never really reckoned with what humanity was capable of: he was never a victim. Our Batman is a hero because of his ignorance, because he's been allowed to forget, and in doing so his underlying assumptions about the world have never been challenged. LKoE is a book in which even the Joker can earn redemption and a place in the extended Bat-family, but Omega has to die by the hand of our shiny, unblemished Batman so that the future can live. And what is that future? It's more of the same.

LKoE ends with an almost sickly sweet scene that looks a lot like hope: the heroes all hug each other and strike a group pose looking hopefully at nothing in particular, Batman holds a baby version of Superman and resolves to raise him and bring hope back into the world, but none of it really means anything. It's more of the same, the same people doing the same things, led by a man whose defining virtue is his ignorance of the past, a group of insular elites watching over a people they both hate and fear, doing nothing to make people better beyond hoping, vaguely, that they won't make the same mistakes again. There is no passing of the torch, no new Batman for a new era, it is pointedly, specifically, the same old Batman. LKoE is a comic that's ultimately about staying the course, doing the same thing despite knowing that it means nothing, acknowledging a fundamental contempt for the unwashed masses but not actually doing anything about it because hey, it's not like you got hurt. The bad guy is the one who won't let go of the past, who points at what people are capable of and demands change, and he can't be allowed to exist if we're to get back to doing things the old-fashioned way. 

Last Knight on Earth is motivated by the birth of the Trump era, and arrives as it nears a potential finish, but it doesn't point towards anything new, it just wants to go back to the way things were, even in the face of an unshakable hatred of people and a certainty that they are not to be trusted, that they need their betters to guide them. I don't want to be so thuddingly simplistic as to label what these means politically, but laid out like this it's clear. The ideology of Snyder and Capullo's Batman is born of the Obama era, warts and all, and cannot survive the Trump era, but the solution Last Knight on Earth offers is not to change and evolve once more, but to forget, to fall back. That doesn't work, it can't work, whether it's a comic book or the real world, history only ever goes one way.

[fandom-collective-writers]

Reader x Jihyun Kim {MysMes} - Letters to Heal a Broken Heart

Title: Letters to Heal a Broken Heart Fandom: Mystic Messenger Character: Jihyun Kim Genre: bittersweet? romance Warnings: spoilers for his good ending!  Intended Gender Audience: Neutral Audience  Word Count: 2040 words POV: second person Other comments: no smut but im proud of this! please note that everything with the push back is a letter! i think its pretty clear, but i wanted to make sure it’s understood <3 Written by: @mythiica​ Req: 

Dear –

I’ll admit, it feels a bit strange writing a letter for you, but my therapist recommended it. He told me to explain my emotions with words, saying it would help me become more confident. 

See, the reasoning behind it, at least from what I remember, is that there is no pressure to think quickly. Writing allows a flow, a sense of movement between the words before you pick which one you wish to use. Talking is different because it follows a completely contrasting rhythm. To keep a conversation going, you have to speak rather quickly so the person stays engaged in the topic. 

It’s all really interesting, and my therapist has given me a book over the fundamentals of other practices like this. I read half of it on the plane to Japan. 

To clarify, I’m writing this from my hotel room in Tokyo. I landed a few hours ago and the jet lag has yet to hit me, so I decided to take advantage of this time to write. 

I think you’d like it here – the sakura are in full bloom and I have three days dedicated to photographing the sea of pinks as they ripple in the wind. Until now, I’ve only seen pictures of the famous parks, and I never thought that I would be able to witness them in person. 

I didn’t think I’d

I never conside

Ah, I should mention, I’m not allowed to erase or cross out sentences I start. Another confidence booster? It’s a bit sillier, but it’s meant to force me to say what is on my mind, rather than letting it fester. I’ll try again: 

During my years under Mint Eye, my vision was narrowed, and I had only one duty. However, I am learning to broaden my horizons and expand my mind to encompass everything. The urge to explore bubbles in my chest, waiting for the moment to come out. There are so many chances to do anything, and I’ve got all the time to do all of it. 

I’ve also realized that I went over my word limit. I have to stick to 300 words or under. Confidence booster #3! Express yourself with less words. Take a guess of how many times I’ve opened the thesaurus, looking for better synonyms for words? At least seven times in the past five minutes. It’s crazy! 

For now, I’ll sign this off and try better next time. 

                                                 よりご多幸を祈って

                                                           Jihyun Kim

PS, I’m practicing my Japanese! That says best wishes… I think. 

नमस्कार

Hello and greetings from India! I took a long nap on the plane, and forgot to write. Although I’m only passing through, I ate some delicious food (that I should really try to replicate for you). India is absolutely beautiful – from the sunrises to the bustling markets to the colorful fabrics hung at every corner. I’ll inhale the air and smell six things at once, albeit, not all of them are the best, but I embrace it nonetheless. 

More about what I’ve been doing: funnily enough, my phone died on the bus ride, but I made a new friend named Sunmi, and she was kind enough to lend me her charging cable. Instead of ending the interaction there, we spoke for a few hours at least. I learned she was traveling with her friends on a photography excursion. She gave me all the information, and I’d like to look into it when I have wifi again. 

You wouldn’t believe what they’ve seen! Last year they went to Antarctica through South America. She got to pet a penguin! Apparently the company also takes people to Greenland and New Zealand – some places I’ve been dreaming of visiting since I was a young boy. 

I’ll use my last 100 words to mention that… I’ve gotten a bit homesick. I miss the RFA – well, the people from the RFA minus… 

Don’t tell Jumin about the company though, he’ll insist on flying me around with his private jet. I want to experience for myself. Saeyoung is somehow messaging me when I don’t have service? I don’t… understand. Anyways, I also saw Zen landed a huge international role (someone had a magazine on the plane). Otherwise, I hope Jaehee and Yoosung are well. And Elizabeth the 3rd of course. Send them my wishes. 

I didn’t forget about you though! The keychain you gave me reminds me of home every day. It might have lost an eye, but I found a button and stitched it on. And I also wanted to ask you–

Ah, I’m over again. 

Next time. 

                                                           Jihyun Kim

Iyi günler! I am in Turkey now and actually writing this on a boat. The sun is setting over the horizon, making the sky change colors with every passing minute. It’s breathtaking, but I wish you were here with me. The other passengers and I take turns standing at the front of the boat, and I sometimes linger, trying to take pictures. 

Good news! My vision is getting better. I’ve been taking some Greek herbal remedies, and the seem to be helping. Either that, or they have a wonderful placebo effect. Has that ever happened to you? To think something is working, but you’re just imagining things? 

I apologize, maybe that stirred bad memories for you. 

Back to Turkey: I stepped out of my comfort zone and spent a night camping. Honestly? I was terrified of doing so, but now I want to do it every night. It is the perfect temperature for hiking, even though I am a bit sunburned. 

So many people have been commenting on my hair. Good things mostly, and I started styling it with a bit of gel to keep it out of my eyes. It feels good to look people directly rather than through a curtain. 

What are you up to? Hosting anymore parties? I imagine that you are keeping busy, as always of course. My therapist said it would be best to wait messaging you until I return home. I nearly called you a week ago, but I didn’t want to break my vow. It’s like lying to myself, and I know better than that now. 

Still, it doesn’t stop me from dreaming. 

                                                           Sending love, 

                                                                     J

I’m genuinely angry, but writing to you always calms me. Someone stole my bag – I luckily didn’t have much in it, but your keychain… can you make me a new one please? Now that I don’t have it, it’s almost like I’ve lost a part of you. It hurts a lot, but then I wonder if I am being silly. It’s just a keychain. 

Otherwise, France is nice. I didn’t want to go to Paris, so instead I traveled through the countryside to visit a few wineries. 

Yes, I did… drink a bit, but I wasn’t impaired when my bag was stolen! 

You would laugh at me if I told you what happened, so I will save the story for another time. Before coming to France, I went through Germany and visited some of the most beautiful castles I’ve ever seen. They all looked like they could be straight from a fantasy movie set, and I was convinced one – Neuschwanstein Castle – actually was. 

I’ve barely written anything despite so much happening. 

I got a haircut (finally), because it was becoming a hassle to tie it back at night. 

One evening, I fed some stray cats and they followed me home. 

And a drunk (?) tried to play cards with me. But he didn’t have cards. He was dealing an imaginary deck. 

Other stories will have to wait until I see you again, and I feel better now. It’s okay to be upset, but it won’t hinder my trip any more. 

                                                           Je t'aime, 

                                                                     Jihyun

Alaska doesn’t have a night. 

That’s not exactly true, but it’s basically true. The hotel has special curtains that block the light, and it is only dark for a few hours. 

It has been many miles since I last wrote, but I was caught up in visiting show after event after party after exhibit through America. Their art has given me a new perspective on point of view and emotions, so I hope that the ten camera chips I’ve filled with photographs will be able to convey the same sense of awe. 

I’ve also been mistaken for an idol? Like – multiple times. Interesting to say the least, maybe I’ll say yes to the next person that asks. What should my stage name be? I’ll spare you the embarrassment and not share my ideas. They are all very silly and no one would believe me if I told them my name was Cam Ra. Do you get it? It’s bad, I know. 

I’ll be returning home soon, unless I get distracted or impulsive and go down to California and Hawaii before coming back. I want to – it doesn’t feel right to return just yet. But that doesn’t mean anything about you! 

Really, I think about you and everyone else each day. 

Have you met new people? We’ll exchange so many stories… 

                                                           See you soon, 

                                                                     J K 

You pace around, waiting for the last guest on the list to appear. The party started an hour ago, but he still has not arrived. Then again, it has been three months since anyone heard a whisper from V, and you start to lose hope. Swallowing hard, you remind yourself that V is having a wonderful time exploring the world and finding himself. 

          Taking a handful of your dress, you turn and head through the doors to the main room. Jumin tries to pull Saeyoung away from Longcat, Yoosung explains his most recent surgeries to a group of nurses from his work place, and Jaehee receives many compliments for her majestic cake. 

         Everyone is happy and has moved on. 

         You hope V has too. 

         Maybe all the wishing and praying finally paid off, because you hear his familiar voice calling out behind you. It’s a long shot, but you turn around nonetheless, thinking it is a different guest. 

         Instead, you see Jihyun, wearing the most dazzling smile you’ve ever seen, running towards you. He’s carrying a folder filled with papers, but that doesn’t stop him from embracing you. He smells rugged, like his voyage has transformed him, but you rather like it. 

         “Jihyun!” You melt against his hug. “You’re.. Here… you’re here!” 

         Your squealing draws everyone’s attention, but he focuses on you and only you. “Of course I’m here. I missed you more than I can verbalize.” 

         His stance is open, welcoming, and confident, much different from two years ago. He is a different person now, brave and proud. Jihyun offers you the folder. It is strange to gift something in the middle of a party, but you accept it anyways, happy he has returned. 

         Jihyun’s heart races as he explains. “I wrote you letters every time I went somewhere new. These are just a few of them, really I have so many. But each shows something I’ve learned.” He takes a breath and laces his fingers with yours. “This is sudden, and I’m sure you will need time to think about it, but I’m trying something new: asking without being afraid. Over the past two years, I’ve… longed for you. Art has shown me the power of friendship, joy, perseverance, and most importantly, dedication. I want to dedicate my art to you, if you’ll stand by my side.” 

         You can’t find the words to express yourself because you are so awestruck. He truly has changed, but he has embraced himself and his life. Tears start to roll down your cheeks from the overwhelming surge of emotions. Jihyun brushes them away and presses his forehead to yours. 

         “I still have much to learn, but I want to do it all with you.” 

         “I’d like that a lot, Jihyun,” you whisper, captivated by his intense gaze. 

         “And I can finally say this without fear–” 

         You tip your head up, and Jihyun kisses you the next moment. His lips are chapped and the warmth radiating from his skin envelops you. He doesn’t need words to communicate it, because you understand perfectly what he is trying to say. 

[four-loose-screws]

FE4 Suzuki Novelization Translation (Gen II) - Chapter 9

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Chapter 9 - Dragon Knight Arion

T/W: Mention of likely one-sided romantic feelings between adopted siblings.

Ever since the child hunt was carried out at Grutia Castle, many of the citizens had come to see Seliph and his soldiers as a liberation army.

The same people also spread the news that General Hannibal's son had been taken hostage. His name was Coirpre, and he'd been entrusted to Luthecia Castle's General Disler.

"Let's save the hostage!" Seliph said. "If we do that, the general may respond with a ceasefire."

It was the liberation army's fundamental policy to avoid pointless battles as much as possible, and Hannibal's army was also very powerful, so reaching a conclusion without fighting him was the best possible option.

But to get to Luthecia Castle, they would have to get past Hannibal's army, which was stationed in front of Kapathogia Castle.

"Does anyone know of a road we can take that will allow us to avoid being seen by Hannibal's army?” Seliph asked.

The villagers took him into the mountains behind Kapathogia Castle, where hunters were using the land as their hunting grounds. 

According to the hunters, if they avoided General Hannibal's army and traveled on the foot to the base of the mountains, there was a road that circumvented the castle.

"Alright, let's take that road!" Seliph exclaimed.

Since the rescue mission was to be a surprise attack from beginning to end, it was best to only let a few people go, so they narrowed the group down to Seliph, Ares, and finally, Fee, who would act as a flying column. 

The problem was the countermeasure in case of Hannibal's army attacking before the rescue had been completed.

"I have a Sleep Staff. Whoever I use it on will sleep for four to five days straight." Lana said.

"I didn't know there was such a useful spell! Why haven't you used it until now?"

"The staff will break after one use, so I didn’t want to use it until we were in a desperate situation…"

Shanan was chosen to lead the army while they were gone. 

-

With the hunters as their guides, Seliph and the others headed out.

They traveled west in a straight line, then turned south at the foot of the mountains. That area was wooded, so they didn't have to worry about being seen by enemies.

The forest cleared when they neared the castle.

"Starting from here, we'll have to climb into the mountains a bit."

The path was steep, and they couldn't make much progress on foot.

Fee gave a report every day on what she observed from the skies.

On the evening of the fourth day since they'd set out, they made it to the backside of the castle.

"Up until this point, we haven't run into any enemies at all. But tomorrow, I suspect some will be flying around in this area, so I will go ahead to Luthecia Castle." Fee said, then turned west and flew away.

"What should we do? It may take a toll on our bodies, but it would be safest to travel behind the castle tonight because we'd be able to get past it very quickly."

They of course thought it best to follow the hunters' suggestion, and started moving again without taking time to rest.

The hunters were right. Because they were following right along a steep mountain, there were areas where they had to walk almost right against the castle wall. However, the soldiers didn't think anyone would ever pass through such an area, so they were able to safely make it through.

"For the last stretch, we should travel south. We'll soon come out to the main road that leads to Luthecia."

"Thank you. You might have saved a lot of lives by helping us. How can we repay you?"

"We don't need repayment. But…"

"But?"

"If you can, please save the children that were taken away to Miletos."

"Understood. We'll try as hard as we can. ...No way, are those children…"

"No, none of them are mine. But my sister's son was taken. He's a smart, cute kid, yet they had the gall to do something so terrible to him!"

-

When they arrived at the main road, they could see that Hannibal's army, located to the north, had begun to move. Though Seliph and the others did not know it, Hannibal knew that King Travant had deployed, and ordered his own army to attack.

"If the king himself has gone to battle, then we have no choice. All units, attack!"

However, Hannibal's army was made up entirely of infantry units, so they didn't make it in time to fight alongside Travant. By the time they neared Meath Castle, the dragon knight unit the king led was already completely destroyed.

Lana turned towards Hannibal's army and waved the Sleep Staff.

Hannibal, marching in the center of his army's formation, was enveloped by a white, heavy cloud. However, that didn't mean that the sleep magic affected everyone. The soldiers outside of its range remained loyal to their orders and continued their attack. Shannan and the rest of the liberation army had no choice but to fight them without stopping.

-

"Lana said that the sleep spell will last for four to five days. The others must come back with the rescued hostage by then."

Because they'd heard that the distance between Kapathogia Castle and Luthecia Castle would take two days to travel, they only had a small margin of leeway.

Seliph and Ares did not take any breaks aside from allowing their horses time to rest, continuing onward.

In the evening two days later, they'd come so far that they could see Luthecia Castle. Fee had arrived earlier, and came to report on the situation at the castle.

"There's hardly any soldiers here. I'm pretty sure there's just a front line and those rounded up to protect the main building."

"Then let's attack tomorrow at dawn. Fee, you fly over the castle wall, and open the gate. After that, we'll storm the castle."

With the plan for their surprise attack decided, Seliph and Ares got a full night's sleep for the first time in a long time.

The surprise attack was a success. General Disler was killed by Ares and Mystletainn the moment he came out of his bedroom in a panic. 

The other soldiers were mostly still in bed. By the time they woke up, the general was already dead, and upon hearing that news, they surrendered.

They found Coirpre in the dungeon. He'd been treated more like a prisoner than a hostage. From what they'd heard the villagers say, they'd gotten the feeling that General Disler had a bad reputation. 

Coirpre was still young, but already very proper and polite.

"I am Coirpre, General Hannibal's son. My father stated that he wanted a ceasefire with the liberation army, but King Travant misunderstood that, and took me as a hostage. So I beg of you! Please take me to my father! I want to convince him to stop fighting!"

Of course, that had been the reason for their surprise attack in Luthecia Castle. Seliph entrusted Ares to keep watch over the castle, and immediately left with Fee, taking Coirpre towards Kapathogia Castle.

Along the way, they saw a single dragon knight flying towards them. Fee readied a counterattack, but the dragon knight did not try to start a fight.

"You are Prince Seliph, yes? I am Altena, daughter of Quan of Leonster."

The dragon knight landed next to Seliph, dismounted her dragon, and greeted him.

"Oh, so you're Prince Leif's sister! He told me about you."

"My brother's story was true. Since I have learned the truth, I can't fight against you any longer. I too am a descendant of a Crusader. Please allow me to join the liberation army."

"Of course, with pleasure! Prince Leif will probably be happy as well when he hears the news.”

"I just have one request. Arion… No, Prince Arion. I don't want you to fight him. His way of thinking is completely different from the empire's."

"Even if you ask, I can't stop that from happening, though I don't want to fight Prince Arion, either. If only he'd made you the mediator of a ceasefire. Nothing would be better than that."

-

The liberation army met General Hannibal near Kapathogia Castle. He'd just woken up, and had left the battlefield to return to the castle and order all the soldiers there to deploy.

The moment he saw his son, he was surprised. But when he heard everything from Coirpre, he approached Seliph, and said, "I'd like to thank you for saving my son."

"General Hannibal, we are only fighting those who agree with the ideas of the empire. I've heard that you are also against the child hunts, and that King Travant is already dead. Why would we fight against each other any longer? Please end this battle. And, if possible, I want you to fight the empire with us. You are called "The Shield of Thracia." We are still young, so please be beside us to guide us."

"If you insist, then I have no choice but to accept. So long as you don’t mind fighting with an old man like me, then I will devote my strength to you. I'd also like you to add my son to your army. He probably told you this already, but I took him in and raised him. When I found him, he had a staff that seemed to have a long history. When he's old enough, we will learn the meaning of it. Seliph, I happily entrust him to you."

General Hannibal's remaining soldiers also joined them.

-

The liberation army, now even stronger, gathered in Luthecia Castle to capture Bishop Judah's Gruthia Castle.

At the same time, they received word that a large imperial cavalier unit had crossed the Miletos-Thracian border.

At the strategy meeting, Altena suggested that it would be the best course of action to settle that fight first.

"I know the terrain of that area very well. The road leading from the border to Luthecia Castle that the cavalier unit can take is a thin mountain path. How about Fee and I meet the enemies halfway, and reduce their numbers? If we swoop down to attack, then use that force to fly over the mountains, they won't be able to counterattack at all."

"That's a great idea, Lady Altena!" Hannibal agreed to the plan right away.

"Because the enemies are calvary, they'll attack by taking turns. If we reduce their numbers by even just a little bit, it will make things that much easier for the rest of the army."

When she’d joined the liberation army in Isaach, Fee was still just a trainee pegasus knight. However, after fighting in battle over the span of a year, she'd evolved into a seasoned falcon knight. She couldn't compete with Altena, who wielded a Holy Weapon, but her flying and combat skills certainly weren't inferior to Altena's.

The enemy cavaliers were worried by the two flying soldier's attacks. Because they didn't know when they would be attacked, their paranoia grew stronger and stronger without end. And even when they were attacked, they only had a split second to react, so there was no way for them to counterattack. No matter how well-trained they were, all they could do was take damage in a one-sided battle, causing their morale to drop. 

Once they were off the mountain road, the spirited imperial soldiers were no more. It wasn't just their numbers that had decreased. Their exhaustion and drop in morale was even greater.

The battle was as good as decided the moment they saw the main force of the liberation army spreading out and waiting for their arrival.

-

While the liberation army was marching towards Grutia Castle, Arion was in Thracia Castle, proposing a ceasefire over and over again. However, not a single soul agreed with him.

Several powerful iron ballistae were set up at Grutia Castle, however, the unit that was supposed to protect them was not there. 

The liberation army's calvary entered the edge of the ballistae's range, then charged at full speed ahead. Their goal was to move as quickly as possible and lower their chances of getting hit by the ballistae's bolts. 

Within the blink of an eye, they trampled the ballisticians, and captured Grutia Castle.

As if they had been waiting for that to happen, three dragon knight units flew from Thracia Castle and towards them all at once.

When Hannibal saw them, he turned pale. "That is the Three-Headed Dragon formation."

"What is that? This 'Three-Headed Dragon.'"

"Those units are each targeting Meath, Kapathogia, and Luthecia, a formation they call the 'Three-Headed Dragon.' They utilize it when an enemy is targeting Thracia and has gathered together too many of their troops in one place, and they wish to launch a counterattack all at once. Prince Arion practiced it many times."

 "I'll defend Meath!" Altena said. "Lana should have a Warp Staff. I want to get to Meath as soon as possible."

"Will you be okay on your own?"

"If we divide our numbers up too much, the main army will probably come attack us here. For now, I will protect Meath!"

"Let's do as Princess Altena says." Hannibal agreed. "I'll protect Kapathogia. I want those remaining to head for Luthecia and intercept the enemy unit headed there. When we do, that's where the real battle should begin. If we take out their commander, the subordinates will surely change course. In other words, they won't continue moving towards Luthecia. And if we defeat them entirely, they'll want the others to come reinforce them. Until then, Lady Altena and I will take care of those other enemies."

The fight went exactly as Hannibal had predicted. When the dragon knight unit headed for Luthecia saw Fee trying to intercept them, they turned towards Grutia Castle to fight the liberation army.

-

Once she'd lured the dragon knight unit a good distance away and defeated them, Fee and several cavaliers turned towards Kapathogia to provide reinforcements there.

Hannibal wielded a flame sword and fought the oncoming dragon knights. Though he suffered several wounds, he did not lose even the slightest bit of energy. He was able to hold out until reinforcements came, just as he'd promised.  

-

The day had come for Arion and his dragon knight unit to fight.

This was his response to Altena's final letter:

"As a warrior of Thracia, I cannot consider a ceasefire after you've killed this many of my soldiers. You too should know that very well. Now, I wait for the day of our final battle. From the beginning, I have thought not about whether we will win or lose, but that, as a warrior, my acts are not an embarrassment. Still, do not hold back. Tell Lord Seliph to come at us with everything he’s got."

Seliph said in response, "Thank you. Tomorrow, the last battle will finally begin. It may be difficult for you to fight, so you should stay on the rear line."

Altena did as Seliph suggested, and did not go out to the front line, instead flying high in the sky from the rear.

Even though the liberation army was fighting against the once great Thracian Dragon Knights, their numbers had already been so greatly reduced that the battle proceeded to go in the liberation army's favor.

Then, she saw a single dragon flying towards her.

"It's Big Brother." She realized it in an instant. "He's going to try to fight me."

Though she had Gáe Bolg, she knew that she was no match for Arion and Gungnir. At best, the fight would end in a tie.

'I will die by his hand.'

A sweet memory filled her heart.

When she'd stood up to Travant, she'd pictured her ideals in her mind, but never thought things would end up like this. For a moment, she worried that it was all her fault.

'What will become of Thracia now?'

She had no memory of Leonster. Thracia was her one and only home.

'Perhaps dying by his hand is the greatest end for me.’

She raised Gáe Bolg and yelled, "Let's do this, Brother!"

The two dragons flew towards each other in a straight line, with their opponent on their right side, as if they were in a jousting match.

As the distance between them shrank, Altena could see clearly the face of the man she loved. She could also see the sparkling tip of Gungnir, aiming straight for her.

'Watch my final attack!'

When they crossed paths, she thrust Gáe Bolg forward.

She felt resistance ripple through her arm.

However...

What about the attack aimed for her? Where was the blow from her beloved that was supposed to lead her to a sweet death?

She was in a state of total shock, but her eyes moved and laid upon her beloved's dragon, hurtling towards the ground.

"Brother!"

His dragon fell into a forest, and she lost sight of them.

"Brother!"

She burst into tears.

The battle was already over, but Altena did not return to land. She continued to fly through the skies, thinking of Arion.

No matter how many tears fell, they did not cease, continuing to stream down her face.

But, eventually, the time came and her tears to dry up.

And it was then that she understood the reason why her beloved did not strike her with Gungnir.

'Brother, you ordered me to live, right? I understand. I will live. I will fulfill my duty as the inheritor to Gáe Bolg. If that is what you wish, then that is what I will do. But, my life is terrible. All of my dreams have been crushed… The moment you were gone, I knew for sure. That for a long, long time, deep within the bottom of my heart, I've wanted you to hold me in your arms. Why did you give me that dream? And then go so nobly all by yourself…'

Altena soon landed at Thracia Castle.

Her tear stains had already vanished.

In their place was nothing but the face of Lance Knight Njörun's descendant.