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troquantary · 3 years

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Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

#twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight meta #edward cullen #i stared too long and the twilight abyss gazed back #long post #major credit due to therealvinelle for having basically all the ideas already #theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin too since they agree and build off each other's metas a lot #idk how people who write meta can just crank these posts out i've been here for two hours #edited to add stuff i forgot to mention about edward's disproportionately violent fantasies

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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A meta and analysis on Yagami Taichi

Being the face of Adventure and arguably the rest of the franchise, Taichi has the honor of being an important figure in the realm of shounen anime overall, which has the unfortunate side effect of very often being described with things that don’t actually match him at all -- the way people often talk about him (especially mainstream press) tends to portray him like a stereotypical shounen hero who charges aggressively into everything and is hot-blooded all of the time. That’s not...quite on the mark.

I think “impulsive” is certainly a correct way to describe him, but in a very different way than one might think -- and, in fact, Taichi is much more of a multifaceted character than he’s often pigeonholed as. How? Well, let’s talk about it!

Taichi in Adventure

The main reason it’s probably incorrect to call Taichi “hot-blooded” by nature is that, in actuality, he is far more often too chill than otherwise. It’s not that he aggressively charges into everything without any rhyme or reason! Rather, it’s more like he takes everything very easily and has a “don’t worry about it!” attitude.

In fact, I think our friend the Animation Chronicle explains it better than I can:

If he doesn’t know/understand something, he acts while he tries to figure it out...

So in other words, rather than our conventional version of “being impulsive” meaning beelining to the most aggressive possible action, rather, it’s more like “the first thing that pops into his head” -- even if it’s a fairly easygoing or relatively harmless-seeming solution, he just goes for it because it sounds like it’ll work and he doesn’t see any reason why not.

That said, it’s also made abundantly clear by multiple sources that his ideas do come with some kind of consideration:

From the Animation Chronicle: “He appears to move with reckless abandon, but he actually does take in his surroundings and he takes good care of his juniors in the soccer club.”

From the Adventure novels: “Taichi treated everyone without discrimination, as equals. That attitude of his didn’t change, even towards Koushiro. If Taichi hadn’t invited him, Koushiro was sure that he would have never gone to summer camp.”

Sora and Koushirou even back this up personally in Adventure episode 16, when Koushirou points out that Taichi had always been kind to his juniors, and Sora recalls an incident when he’d foregone an opportunity to score a goal because he’d known Sora was more likely to pull it off successfully.

So in other words, Taichi is, fundamentally speaking, not someone who does things for personal glory, but does want to work for other people’s sake. It’s just that, in trying to carry that out, he has a tendency to default to the first thing that pops into his head. Or in other words, Taichi’s primary way of thinking is “act first and figure out the details later” -- and this has both good and bad things about it.

Firstly, the fact that Taichi has such an “action-first” philosophy means that he’s capable of acting very practically in situations when others would freeze up. A very good example of this is Adventure episode 21; after angsting for half an episode considering quitting the fighting and enjoying his life at home, the moment he realizes that everyone else will be in danger if he leaves everyone be, he immediately instinctively steps in to help everyone. It’s not necessarily that Taichi doesn’t feel the stress or danger of fighting; it’s just that when he sees the practical impact of people he cares about getting hurt in front of him, all bets are off, because he needs to help people now.

The second thing is that, as Koushirou points out, he’s very kind to his juniors, and people in general -- he doesn’t really pay much mind to things like seniority, and is more concerned about treating everyone in accordance to their practical capabilities. This means that he’s someone who has a certain sense of charisma, especially since he’s appreciative of people’s abilities.

This is best indicated in Adventure episode 28, when two important things about Taichi are brought to the forefront:

Taichi’s natural charisma and ability to appeal to people makes him someone good at “bringing people together” -- indicated by the fact that the group hadn’t taken long to completely fall apart after he’d momentarily departed in Adventure episode 20, but came back together after he’d rallied them. The Adventure kids, coming from rather different social circles and backgrounds, were not originally the type to stay together or be particularly tight with each other by default, and so, during the first half of the series when they still had ways to go in terms of having any kind of meaningful bond with each other, they were unconsciously dependent on the charismatic Taichi to keep them together.

Taichi is a “natural leader” in every sense -- “leader” meaning not only someone who pushes people forward, but also someone who recognizes others’ abilities and is willing to delegate rather than trying to do everything by himself. This was briefly demonstrated in Sora’s Adventure episode 16 flashback when she remembers that Taichi willingly gave up the opportunity for a goal when he understood she could do it better (it’s reflected in his soccer position, too), but also here in Adventure episode 28, he gives the task of solving the card puzzle to Koushirou because he (correctly) determines that Koushirou, not himself, is best equipped to do the job. Also note that the episode makes clear that everyone agrees to it specifically because Taichi appointed him to the position -- much like how “understanding everyone’s abilities and delegating properly” is an important and necessary skill for a leader, everyone trusts Taichi to make that decision, and therefore trusts in Koushirou because he was appointed by said well-informed decision.

So those are the good things about him. What about the drawbacks?

The first is that Taichi is, unfortunately, a little emotionally insensitive. He doesn’t mean badly, of course -- you can’t deny that his penchant for teasing or trolling people makes him quite a fun person to be around -- but he tends to lack a bit of emotional insight and is prone to crossing the line with his remarks. Again, this is a symptom of him being too chill about things at times; he tends to react with “what’s the big deal?!” -- a statement that one should absolutely not say when arguing with someone, and which tends to get Taichi in hot water, especially with Yamato.

While the trope of “the shounen hero and the cool rival often having friction” is quite common in anime like this, Adventure’s play on it is actually quite different from how it would usually be played elsewhere. In most other shounen anime, this kind of relationship would have to do with something like the hot-blooded protagonist wanting to charge in and the cool-headed person wanting to be more “rational” about it, but in Adventure, Taichi and Yamato are pit against each other due to reasons that have to do with emotions. Yamato, contrary to what his character archetype might suggest, is someone who’s openly passionate and emotional, and is also someone who goes out of his way to care about others and their welfare -- so he often gets into fights with Taichi because he perceives Taichi to be insensitive and not putting sufficient thought into the others.

Yamato’s reactions are certainly extreme -- Adventure episodes 9 very clearly depicts him as the one losing control of his emotions and escalating the argument with Taichi to a full-on fight, whereas Taichi wanted him to calm down -- but he’s not fundamentally wrong in that this is an aspect Taichi needs to improve about, because it is true that Taichi tends to take the first suggestion of “what’ll get something done” that pops into his head, but also has a problem of vastly underestimating how dangerous things might be.

Again -- and this is very important to stress -- it’s not that he doesn’t care about others, and it’s not that he’s unaware of the dangers around him or the potential for repercussions! As Sora says in Adventure episode 16, he is conscientious of his surroundings and aware of potential risks. He has always put thought into his actions, and he doesn’t just charge into things with no rhyme or reason. He just has an abysmally poor sense of judgment, because he’s so naturally chill that he thinks “it’ll be fine, don’t worry!” -- and thus starts stubbornly locking down on what he wants to do because he’s so sure it’ll be fine and that everyone (usually Yamato) is overreacting.

If you want a specific example about Taichi’s tendency to misjudge: in Adventure episode 9, Taichi and Yamato get in a fight when Yamato perceives Taichi as too insensitive about Takeru’s potential welfare, which weirds Taichi out because Yamato’s being awfully overprotective. On its face, it might seem hypocritical because we later find out in Adventure episode 48 that Taichi is just as overprotective of his own sister, but it’s important to note that in the relevant episode, Taichi states that he has to go out of his way because Hikari continually fails to vocalize whenever she’s hurt or in pain. This implies that Taichi sees Takeru as someone who’s clearly capable of taking care of himself because he expresses himself better (and thus, Taichi doesn’t understand why Yamato has to go out of his way for him). Indeed, Takeru ends up latching onto Taichi because he sees him as treating him with the independence that Yamato won’t -- but Takeru has his own very deep-seated emotional issues that he just happens to be very good at hiding, and while Taichi is certainly always looking out for Takeru, he never seemed to have become aware of this problem.

This difficulty in judgment leads into a certain pattern of behavior that Taichi exhibits that only comes up in very specific situations, but is so consistently depicted that it’s basically an inherent trait of his: what I call the “Yagami Taichi stress response”.

Taichi is the kind of selfless person who prioritizes others’ welfare over himself, and there are times when it will often fall into almost self-destructive levels. (This is a trait he actually shares with his sister, although the two of them naturally deal with it in very different ways.) His first priority is “helping everyone”, and especially “helping anyone who’s in trouble” (especially when it’s happening right in front of him). Which means that whenever he feels that others are depending on him for something, he ends up often taking too much responsibility for everyone’s welfare, and starts cracking under the pressure.

Because Taichi is the kind of person who prioritizes “action first” and figuring things out as they go along, this means that his reaction to stress is basically becoming a completely unfocused mess. Or, in other words, he lets the thought of but we have to do something!! completely consume his head, methodology be damned, and he starts panicking and doing everything in every which way to get it done, to the point he starts lashing out at others or becoming an emotional wreck because of the stress. The first time we see this is Adventure episode 16, where, being the only one with a working Crest and feeling that he and Agumon have the responsibility of protecting everyone, starts pushing himself and Agumon to carry everyone’s burdens, resulting in everything going wrong and the dark evolution to SkullGreymon at the end of the episode.

Again: It’s important to remember that, even at his “worst”, Taichi’s main priority is helping and protecting others, which means that his way of responding to that stress is basically determining that he’ll take all of the responsibility onto himself. That involves things like forcing himself to “work harder for everyone’s sake”, or becoming dangerously self-sacrificial, or at least allowing himself to become an emotional wreck because as much as he knows better, his one strongest thought is always we have to do something!!

Taichi exhibits more of this behavior in Adventure episodes 48 and 49, to the point he gets unusually aggressive with Koushirou (which is also explicitly pointed out as him not acting like his usual self) once he starts panicking about Hikari’s welfare. Again, note that all of this stems from we have to do something!! -- he basically starts panicking because despite Koushirou clearly doing the best he can, once things start going south, it’s just not enough.

So, speaking of things going south: because Taichi often misjudges situations, whenever things go wrong, he takes it badly. This is someone whose first course of action is to “act first and work it out as we go along,” but the number one thing he can’t stand is seeing other people get hurt, and so when other people do get hurt because of the consequences, Taichi shuts down -- for instance, when he learns that his ploy to attempt to get Greymon to evolve ended up hurting Koromon and everyone around him in Adventure episodes 16-17, and when his taking the Digital World too lightly (taking Koushirou’s explanation of it being “like a game world” at too much face value) ends up getting Sora in trouble and his own life in danger.

Which leads to a certain degree of irony: Taichi’s behavior isn’t normally out of solely recklessness -- mainly really poor judgment and a tendency to underestimate things -- but when he does slip up and start having to deal with consequences, he does become reckless. But because this recklessness is out of a desire to “not let anyone else get hurt”, it results in him being reckless specifically with his own welfare -- he’s the kind of person who “takes too much responsibility onto himself”, and his way of responding to the issues of “someone might get hurt” and “but we have to do something!!” means that he, by default, responds to everything with “okay, then I’ll be the one who gets hurt!” Or in other words, his solution to preventing other casualties while still doing something to help others involves becoming dangerously self-sacrificial. Because in the end, Taichi is the kind of person who hates seeing people being in trouble or hurt in front of him, and his instinct is to always protect people, no matter what.

But, again: Taichi’s way of “action first” is not a fundamentally bad thing -- remember, Adventure episode 21 established very well that this trait of his is very good for bringing him out of his biggest bouts of hesitation, because he has a very practical understanding of the need to fight in order to prevent more casualties. This is especially because the final arc of Adventure deals heavily with the concept of “collateral damage”, or the question of how to handle fighting to save people, when people are inevitably hurt (or, in this case, dying) in the process.

Yamato accuses Taichi in Adventure episode 43 of not being conscientious enough about the friends they’ve lost in the process, but once Yamato succumbs to his resentment and personal beefs and starts selfishly picking a fight with Taichi in Adventure episode 44-45, Taichi indicates that he is keeping his fallen friends in mind -- it’s just that, to him, not continuing the fight is an insult to everything they’d died for (especially because, indeed, more people will get hurt if they don’t do something).

And, ultimately, in Adventure episode 50, Taichi does conclude that Yamato, Jou, and Mimi are right about one thing: while he’s always been right about them needing to do something, they do at least need to be careful about how they go about it so that they don’t incur more sacrifices along the way. Fortunately, Taichi is a soccer captain and perfectly capable of quickly coming up with a suitable plan on the fly (he even cites it in this episode, and in fact had already demonstrated an ability to come up with tactics when necessary back in Adventure episode 20) -- it’s not that he’s never been able to do flexible thinking, it’s just that his natural tendency to be “too chill’ about things and overestimate the efficacy of the first thing that popped into his head was something he needed to learn to think through a little harder.

And so, the final episodes of Adventure indicate him finally starting to tap into his capacity for that -- thus truly becoming the definition of the Adventure group’s “leader”.

Taichi after Adventure

We learn in Our War Game! that Taichi still has a bit of a way to go in terms of the “emotional sensitivity” part, most notably when Taichi starts getting defensive when he accidentally disrupts the computer connection, and Koushirou (most likely correctly) pinpoints this insensitivity as the likely reason he and Sora got into a nasty fight prior to the events of the movie. In fact, while Taichi already clearly had some shades of this in Adventure, when his “teasing” of others or stepping over their boundaries could sometimes go a little too far, it’s especially indicated here that Taichi is very, very bad at dispute resolution, because he keeps trying to deflect blame for his own actions and indirectly accuses Sora of being the irrational one in regards to their argument. (Again, for anyone entangled in a dispute with a friend: “dismissing the other person’s feelings” and going for the ad hominem, instead of at the very least acknowledging them in the process of making your point, is the number one worst way to handle this.)

Of course, Taichi wouldn’t have gotten this far if he didn’t have the natural charisma to compensate -- again, he’s fundamentally someone who cares about other people and attends to them. But, unfortunately, he’s still bad at knowing how to deal with other people’s emotions and learning to deal with them with proper empathy...

...So, in fact, it’s striking that the Taichi we initially meet in 02 is someone who, most of the time, seems to come off as very mature and put-together. The fact that he so willingly turned over his goggles to Daisuke at the beginning of the episode is a really huge deal, frankly -- even if you don’t subscribe to the theory that there’s any major sentimental backstory to it a la V-Tamer, that’s still an item he’s kept on him since he was a tiny child and clearly must have a huge amount of attachment to, yet he immediately handed it over to Daisuke the moment he felt Daisuke was worthy of it.

It’s actually quite a bit of a swerve for those of us used to the more “playful” Taichi who sometimes took things way too lightly, but it’s also important to realize that this is the Taichi that Daisuke and his friends see. This is especially in light of the fact that Daisuke starts off the series with a very severe inability to be assertive, so Taichi, who’s always been naturally assertive from the get-go (almost too much sometimes), is everything he is not, and therefore admires.

Taichi is still Taichi, which means that he’s still subject to the Yagami Taichi stress response, and he gets very close to blowing up angrily at the others when they show up late. But unlike how he had a whole train of being rather out of control when emotionally compromised in Adventure episodes 48-49, he gets himself together fairly quickly and admits that he also didn’t want to force everyone to come if they didn’t want to (to the point where he had even thought about going alone with Hikari in the worst-case scenario -- again, note the tendency for self-sacrifice and putting responsibility on himself).

We also see him about to lapse into it again at the end of the episode, when he freezes up because he’s not sure about what to do in regards to the potential of hurting Agumon in the process of getting him back -- but Yamato manages to get him back on his feet, rather literally, and with a punch to the face.

This punch tends to be really often misinterpreted as if violence is just a fact of life when it comes to Taichi and Yamato, but it is very, very important to understand the context behind this scene and how it differs from the two’s relationship in Adventure. Whenever the two fought back in Adventure, it would be a very vicious argument with the two genuinely angry at each other, and with Yamato accusing Taichi of being insensitive and thus becoming hostile and resentful towards him. In this scene, however, Yamato has become conscientious of Taichi’s own feelings and reasons for hesitating. This is evidenced by the fact he only does a single punch and holds out his hand to Taichi right after -- said punch was strictly meant as one meant to snap him back to reality, and Yamato holds out that hand knowing that Taichi will not take it as anger or resentment, but rather “I did this because you needed something to get you back into focus, I know you also know this and won’t take it as an insult, and I understand your feelings and want to help you.”

It’s important in establishing the level of deep trust Taichi and Yamato have where they understand each other’s positions now without fighting over it -- the two of them even point out in the next episode that the reason they can get away with this is because of how much worse they used to go through before, but now, the two of them treat each other with mutual sympathy, understanding, and support, and devoid of condescension whatsoever. And because of that, Taichi is able to “snap out” of his hesitation much more quickly than he would three years prior, because now he has Yamato’s emotional support, and Yamato even frames the situation in a way the “we have to do something!!” Taichi would understand: if they don’t do something, Agumon will continue to be the Kaiser’s slave destroying everything that he himself would never want to see destroyed, and even if they end up accidentally losing him in the process, it would arguably be a bigger mercy to him than it would to let him continue in this state. It’s all very practical reasoning that works best with Taichi’s way of thinking, and because of that, they’re able to push forward into the events of the next episode.

But just because he’s become more mature doesn’t mean he’s lost his characteristic charisma or ability to be playful or a tease -- after all, Taichi has always had a penchant for a bit of a smug personality, sometimes even bordering on the petulant. This especially comes out when he’s with Agumon, but, really, Taichi is a person who really likes fun.

On another interesting note, however, Taichi sends Sora off in 02 episode 38 when he’s very heavily implied to have caught on that Sora is about to confess to Yamato, and pushes her on without giving her grief for it. Regardless of whether you subscribe to the theory that Taichi has his own unresolved feelings in the situation, the important part is that he understood that this was a grave enough situation for Sora that this did not merit teasing her or insensitively poking into her feelings on it -- in other words, it’s a huge contrast to Adventure episode 26 when he was clearly at a loss on how to deal with her when she was emotionally compromised, and Agumon and Gabumon commented that he wasn’t as mature as Yamato in dealing with this.

But now, Taichi is much more capable of showing actual empathy for others and understanding when it’s the time to hold back on the teasing or potential insensitivity, and for that, Agumon compliments him on the same maturity he’d failed to express three years prior.

By the time we get to Kizuna, the fact that Taichi is one of the lead protagonists is for obvious meta reasons (he’s the protagonist of Adventure, after all), but it also makes sense that a movie centered around the millennial existential crisis -- and, specifically, the issue of career uncertainty -- would have him as a major player in it. Remembering that Taichi is fundamentally the kind of person who operates as “act first, deal with it later,” it makes perfect sense that the terrifying pressure of dealing with something as vague and uncertain as career pressure would be something that Taichi would continually put off. Again, Taichi is a very practical-minded person who usually works best with things that are clearly happening in front of him, so “wide-ranging” things are things he plays badly with.

Despite Taichi being very clearly depicted as “out of it” for this movie, at the very least, certain fundamental personality traits of his haven’t gone away -- for one, he’s still one of the most expressive characters in the movie (to the point many a fan has commented on his jackpot of facial expressions) in terms of petulance, sometimes getting a little defensive, and driving poor Koushirou a little nuts with his tendency to be reckless with electronics. He also gets a bit cocky during the battle with Eosmon, which, again, tracks with his tendency to do that every so often (and to be fair to him, everyone was guilty of severely underestimating Eosmon at the time, so it’s not like this was a major miscalculation on Taichi’s part).

Moreover, much like in 02, Taichi and Yamato are understanding of each other’s feelings to the extent that Yamato is the first person Taichi calls to dump his feelings about his existential crisis over. Even though they’re still prone to some mild bickering at the beginning of the movie, they immediately go back on high-fiving terms right after, so it’s a very far cry from the time back in Adventure when Yamato would look down on Taichi for being insensitive.

But here, we have this one line that basically represents the source of all of the problems Taichi ends up going through in this movie, including the reason for his loss of Agumon: Taichi is trying to “force” himself to become an independent person, and in the process is pushing Agumon away, and, on a more metaphorical level, his own self.

Taichi moved out of his parents’ house under the pretense of not burdening his family, but Hikari’s comment about their mother wanting him to drop by indicates that it’s not likely they necessarily wanted him to move out -- and despite that, Taichi is miserable in his daily routine of walking back and forth from school and working at a part-time job and eating convenience store food. He’s clearly lonely, yet he won’t allow Agumon into his room (it’s stated that his visit midway into the movie is his first time here). He keeps his old goggles and Digivice, yet he shuts it in a drawer and only opens the drawer to stare at it from time to time, and when Agumon finally does visit and finds his AVs, Taichi freaks out and pins it as an “adult thing” before he finds himself in the awkward situation of basically gatekeeping his own partner with a societal standard he doesn’t even understand.

I should point out that the AVs are not strictly porn, if you want to be really technical about it; it’s “gravure” videos, involving a cosplayer dressing up in sexy/high-exposure outfits and striking suggestive poses, but it’s not actually explicit porn. Moreover, a toned-down version of this scene exists in the Shueisha Mirai version of the novel, where the issue is not about AVs but rather the fact that Taichi only has alcohol in his fridge -- absolutely nothing non-alcoholic, despite how impractical this is -- because “[he’s] an adult, after all.” So the point of this scene is that Taichi’s being performative, or in other words trying to do Adult Things because That’s What Adults Do. And since a Digimon partner is representative of the inner self, and especially established in 02 to have relevance to one’s “less dignified and more childish dreams”, Taichi looking down on Agumon, i.e. looking down on himself, becomes the reason why he ends up losing him at the end of this movie.

As things get worse for Taichi and the crisis escalates, we actually get another glimpse of the Yagami Taichi stress response -- Yamato confronts him on whether he’s okay with going in to save all of the Eosmon victims despite knowing what’ll happen to their partners. Taichi, frantically (Hanae Natsuki’s voice acting really sells it here), has an emotional outburst and professes that, no, of course he’s not, but, again: they have to do something!! Because in the end, Taichi is a selfless person who understands that bad things are happening to people now, and the important thing is saving them now and dealing with the consequences once that’s done with, and even Yamato admits that, as much as he hates it, this is the correct answer.

Taichi does, unfortunately, lose Agumon at the end of the movie, but there are multiple indications he’s already on his way to getting him back, given that Taichi’s starting to address all of the problems he was neck deep in at the start of the movie. In the middle of the movie, after having shut his goggles in the drawer all of this time and only pulling it out whenever he was depressed, he decides to embrace the courage they initially symbolized and puts them back on his neck, and when we reach the climax of the movie, he uses Hikari’s old whistle to wake everyone up. This needs to be distinguished from all of the “nostalgia” everyone else had been drowning themselves in by looping themselves eternally in old memories from a desire to never move on from them; symbolically speaking, Taichi’s blowing of the whistle represents acknowledging the important things in your past, and making productive use of them to move onto the future, rather than the unhealthy reactions of either drowning eternally in nostalgia, or performatively shutting everything out about your past in a bid to reach some arbitrary standard of adulthood.

Hence, Taichi’s thesis -- the one he had failed to write at the beginning of the movie -- is only filled out once Taichi embraces that past version of himself, because his thesis summary is about reflection on his past experiences, and making use of those to think about how to apply them to the future.

This is, obviously, intended as a lead-up to the 02 epilogue in which Taichi becomes an ambassador -- or in other words, someone who indeed specializes in “bringing humans and Digimon together” and offering proposals on how they can coexist in the future. Agumon, of course, is an important part of this job (look at his suit and bowtie!), instead of Taichi shutting him out and treating him like someone who doesn’t belong in his adult life.

Of the careers depicted in the epilogue, Taichi’s is the most “furthest-reaching”, since, as a diplomat, he has influence over a pretty huge range of things, which fits with Taichi’s tendency to shoot for some pretty high things -- and, also, conceptually, it works well with what we’ve always known since Adventure to be Taichi’s true specialties as a “leader”: having the charisma and understanding to bring people from different places together, and to lead them all forward.

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers #yagami taichi #taichi yagami #shihameta

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morkleemelon · 3 years

Text

off the ice || chapter 6: grab my hand

previous || m.list || playlist || next

pairing: college hockey player! mark x fem. college figure skater! reader

genre: fluff, humor, angst, sports au, college au

word count: 7.7k

warnings: swearing, suggestive material, depictions of bullying

author’s note: huge thanks again to my beta readers @writing-frog and @skiimmiilk I’ve made the executive decision to split up the last chapter since it was so long! Chapter 7, the finale, is done and will be posted in a few days <3

Distance. Distance isn’t a word you would use to describe your relationship as he pulls you close at night. There’s no distance between the two of you as he lifts you up in the air during your nightly practice, strong hands firmly gripping your waist as you dance across the empty rink.

No.

But if one were to look past your smile, to wipe away the condensation and see clearly what’s really going through your head when you were together with Mark, they might just name the dreadful feeling caving in your chest “distance”.

Weeks have passed by since the hate message incident in Mark’s room. You tried to pull out the arrow, to convince yourself it wasn’t true and that you could ignore it just like all the rest. Alas, its words struck so deep, you still bleed.

It poisons your thoughts. Your anxieties had already worsened and you found yourself pulling away from his affections, afraid of the way the people walking past might somehow be talking about you.

Mark is starting to have his suspicions too, flashing you concerned looks when you uncomfortably shrug his arm off your shoulders in public. To you, it’s because you’re scared of the ‘hateful’ stares from others. To him, it’s a riddle he can’t solve.

Because when it’s just the two of you, you let yourself relax. Like yin and yang, you fight an internal battle between how much you adore your boyfriend and how terrified you are that you aren’t good enough for him. When it’s just the two of you alone, you stop running and let him close the distance.

Right now is one of those rare times - the familiar cold and scraping of ice below your skates bringing you peace.

Mark glides easily beside you on the empty rink. He’s improved a lot, much to your astonishment. A golden boy through and through, he proves that there’s nothing he can’t do as he conquers each move you show him.

Coach Tanya was surprised when you spoke with her after practice one day to notify her that you’d decided to pair with Mark Lee, captain of the hockey team, for the winter competition. Her thin eyebrows were perked in playful judgement when you started to defend yourself, ready to bring up Yuna’s accident and your financial situation before she stopped you: “You’re my best skater, y/n, and I look forward to your performance. Work hard, captivate your audience, and you just might win”.

Watching Mark skate on ahead of you in the borrowed skates he makes do with, you can’t wait to prove her right.

“What are we going to practice tonight, y/n?,” Mark asks as he arcs a wide circle around you.

“I think you’ve gotten most of the basics down, so let’s go over the first part of the choreography,” you decide, grabbing onto his hand and giggling as he swings you around with him.

“We have choreography?,” Mark lifts your arm up to twirl you around. He stops you as you face him, a laugh leaving your lips before he smothers them with kisses. His fingers tickle at the hem of your shirt, cold to your bare skin. You squeal, the sound carrying eerily over the spacious rink.

“I thought about it a lot in my head,” you explain as you shove him away gaily, “and I planned a bit during my own practices. It’s not done yet, but I think we can make it work”.

“My talented, beautiful girl,” Mark murmurs, catching up to you and wrapping you in a back hug. You sigh blissfully, catching his warm lips in the crook of your neck.

“Mark, we seriously do have to practice. The festival’s only a month away,” you mumble. Some nights, let's just say, you spend more time in the locker room showers than you do on the ice. Using your best intuition, Mark’s lips travelling down towards your collarbones equals not a lot of practice time. And as much as you want for him to distract you all night long, you have to put your skate down and bring your boyfriend back to focus on the task at hand.

He huffs slightly against your skin, but releases you obediently.

“It’s gonna start like this,” you swiftly continue on, positioning your arm gracefully behind Mark’s head, “put your hand here,” you move his hand behind your back like you had planned, “and tilt your head to look at me,”. You tip his jaw slightly so he now peers down at you, face not inches from yours.

Dropping your gaze, you maintain what little self control you have and refrain from thinking about the locker room. It’s right by the rink exit. It’d be so easy to just...

“And then?,” Mark whispers, voice low, waiting patiently in the starting position. His hand is warm against your back, but it tugs at your heartstrings too.

“And then you’re gonna spin me out like we practiced before”. You help him perform the motion, unfurling yourself from his grip and gliding down to spin a slow circle around.

You bring him slowly through the rest of the introduction, Mark copying the moves diligently.

“Then when I skate back to you, lift me up in the air like we did last time. You think you can do it?,” you question. The move you’re about to attempt is quite difficult - a little dangerous, even, since Mark is still a beginner - but you trust him to never hurt you.

“I can do it,” he confirms confidently, holding his arms out to receive you.

“Okay, slow at first,” you nod, skating up to him at half-speed, grabbing onto his shoulders to help lift yourself above his head. Mark’s strong hands connect with your body, hoisting you up by your waist and balancing your body carefully above his. Muscles burning, you steady yourself as he twirls you slowly down.

“Alright, again,” you command.

The two of you repeat the move, steadily increasing the speed until the lift is smooth to your satisfaction.

“I think that was pretty good,” you compliment, slightly out of breath.

“Only because of you,” Mark endears, panting as he rests his chin atop your hair.

You sigh into his chest, the comforting feeling of his palpitating heartbeat washing over you.

If only it could always be like this.

“y/n?,” Mark mumbles. His tone was almost unsure, as if he was about to say something you don’t want to hear.

You hum an affirmation.

“Is everything okay these days?,” he asks the question you dread answering, “I know,” he continues before you can blurt out your default lie, “I know you keep saying that it is, but I feel like...you know you can tell me anything, right?”.

Mark changes his phrasing midway, always taking your feelings into consideration. The all too familiar wave of guilt fills you up to your ears and you step slightly away. The stadium is dim, only lit by the natural light of the night sky, but you can see the concern that creases his face out in your peripheral vision.

Your eyes focus instead on his jacket button. The second from the top has a few loose threads.

And that’s just how you feel too; the button was made for this coat - it wants to hang on and be there forever. But how could it persist when the world wants to rip it off?

“It’s nothing,” you insist bitterly, your peaceful mood tainted gray. You were so close to successfully ending another day without confronting your demons. Why must Mark sense it so well?

Please stop, Mark. Please stop.

“I don’t think it’s nothing”. There’s nothing but kindness and concern in his voice, but when he reaches his hand out to you, fear overcomes your rationality and you jerk yourself away.

“It is nothing!,” you exclaim, overly defensive. Half of your mind screams at you to halt, to filter your words before you say something you would regret, but the fuse was already lit and they come tumbling out anyway. “Can you please stop asking? It’s annoying,”.

A beat passes. Two. Five.

The sharp words tear through your mouth like knives, but even then you can’t stop to think. The energy in the rink changed so quickly, your head spins with shock. Turning away from the pained expression you don’t want to see, you skate quickly towards the exit.

The ice is solid as ever, but why does it feel like you’re sinking?

Slamming the dormitory door shut behind you, your skating bag hits the floor before you do. Back pressed against the concrete wall, shaking sobs rack through your body as you sink down to your feet.

“y/n, what happened?,” Yuna peers over her computer screen. Your roommate had finally returned home a few days ago after her leg had finally healed enough to be discharged.

You don’t answer, only burying your teary face into your arms as you cry harder.

The metallic creaking of crutches ensues as Yuna approaches your slumped form. A comforting embrace wraps around your shaking shoulders and the smell of her daisy perfume engulfs you. Her scarred hands stroke through your hair as she says nothing, waiting for your hiccups to calm down.

Guilt eats away at you like nitric acid. It mixes with your frustration, concocting a perfect poison that destroys your last thread of self-respect.

“Can you please stop asking? It’s annoying”

The hurtful words don’t stop echoing in your head. What’s worse is, even though you didn’t stay to look, you can imagine the pain that crossed his face as you left without another word. You feel absolutely disgusting.

This is it. He’s finally going to be done with me.

Moments pass, Yuna sitting patiently by your side as you manage to find your voice. The dam you built around all your secret cracks, disintegrating to pieces as you let everything out to your best friend.

You tell her about all of the hate messages you’ve been getting for months now - how you tried to ignore them, but some of them hit too way deep to forget. You tell her about the dilemma with Mark. He’s never done any wrong to you, ever, but you feel like you can’t keep forcing your problems on him. When you confided in your financial situation with him, he dropped everything to help you with the competition. You at least want to be able to handle one thing by yourself, to not be a burden, but it’s tearing you apart at the seams.

“I don’t deserve him and he’s going to realize it sooner or later,” you lament, gripping onto Yuna’s arms for dear life. Gasping sobs ensue, even as you hold your breath desperately to stop them. “He’s probably already realized it after what I said. Yuna, what do I do? I’m horrible”. Bitter tears choke at your throat.

“Oh honey,” Yuna coos into your hair, “you don’t even know, do you?”.

Hiccupping uncontrollably, you take gasping breaths, trying to calm down. Your roommate understands, patting you gently on the back.

“When you’re in a relationship with someone, the line between having enough communication and enough privacy is tough to figure out. Should you tell him about the lint between your toes? Maybe not. But talking to him about what’s bothering you is not only okay, it’s the right thing to do”.

Yuna lifts your chin up to face her. She looks empathetically down at your watery eyes as she takes her sleeve to dry the fallen tears. You press your eyelids shut, taking deep breaths punctuated by hiccups.

“And Mark,” she continues, “this guy, he looks at you like you’re all the stars in the sky and he’s the first astronomer. There’s not a thing you could tell him that would bother him, that’s what I think. And I think he’s dying to know how he can help you”.

“Yuna I- you don’t understand. I just left him there after saying that. And I can’t even go on a date with him without feeling like people are talking about us,” you gasp out, “So the person sending the messages is right; I’m not good enough for him and he deserves someone way better than me. Maybe this is for the better”.

“y/n, don’t you see?,” Yuna snaps sternly. You open your eyes. They’re pink-red, matching the tip of your nose. “You’re letting other people ruin a once-in-a-lifetime relationship for you. Do you know what happens when you leave to go to the bathroom when we’re all hanging out? Mark’s looking towards the women’s room every two seconds, waiting for you to come back. This guy will manage to find a way to bring up your name at least twice in the five minutes you’re away. He likes you so much, anyone with a brain knows, so it’s not fair to him for you to tell him what, or who he deserves. At least let him make his own decision”.

The advice resonates in the air. Your hiccups calm to a sniffle as it sinks in. Yuna’s right, you’re being so selfish right now. Actually, you’ve been selfish this whole time. By forcing everything to yourself, you were creating an even bigger problem than any of the ones you were trying to hide.

“Yuna, what do I do now?,” you whisper, dread setting in.

“Girl, go talk to him. Now.”

You must look a mess, but you don’t bother fixing yourself up before you’re out the door.

Yuna sends you off with a ‘good luck!’ as you run down the corridor. Rushing down the metal stairs, your frenzied steps echo through the empty stairwell. They sound as desperate as you feel.

Oh god, please let it not be too late.

Once you reach the first floor entrance, you notice through the glass door that it is now, in fact, pouring rain. You were too distracted before to notice the heavy sounds of precipitation pelting down over you.

Hands shaking to send Mark a message, you tell him you need to talk and you’re coming to him. You have no umbrella, but you push open the door anyways. The freezing rain soaks into your skin but you run on, unfazed.

You’re drenched and shivering by the time you stand panting in front of his building. Dying street lights illuminate against the dark, night sky. Waiting, the rain stings your eyes.

Through the blur, Mark’s figure finally appears at the door window. You can’t quite make out his face, but you know it’s him. The metal frame creaks as he pushes it open.

“y/n, what are you doing?”. His voice is raspy and as he comes closer into view. You notice that his eyes are pink-red, matching the tip of his nose.

“I have to talk to you,” you state, voice wavering as fresh tears mix with the ice-cold precipitation. Mustering up all the courage you have, you ready yourself to tell him everything you’ve been holding back.

“Let’s go inside”. His voice is soft as he tugs at your drenched jacket sleeve.

“No I-,” you choke, “I want to say it right now”.

The rain bears down hard as he lets go of your sleeve, allowing the frigid water to soak through his own self, waiting.

“You asked me if something was wrong,” your resolve comes crashing down, “and a lot has been wrong”. You squeeze your eyes shut to force out the unwanted raindrops. “The truth is, I’ve been getting hate messages every day since we started dating. Probably even before that. They say I’m a slut, or I’m fat and ugly. The details don’t matter”.

Mark takes a step towards you, the concerned expression creasing his brow in full view.

“But then they say I’m not good enough for you,” your voice breaks as you admit the most painful part of all, blinking up at him, “and I can’t help but believe them”.

Futily, you swipe your drenched sleeve across your eyes to dry them.

“But even if I don’t deserve anything that you are, I need to tell you right now that I didn’t mean what I said today and I need to know if you still want me-”

Before the next raindrop could hit your skin, you feel yourself lifted up into a crushing hug.

There’s no sound except the heavy pitter patter of rain around you, but you can swear that there’s a symphony playing as he spins you around. His breath huffs against your neck. He’s crying too, you realize.

“y/n,” he croaks, body quivering with tears and from the cold, “I always want you. I-, you-”. Mark pulls you in extra tight as he struggles to find the right words.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” the words strain against Mark’s throat, “when I first saw you, I dropped my shit and ran away”.

You pull slightly away, looking up at him quizzically.

He shakes his head and continues, “You were so beautiful and even when I thought you hated me, I couldn’t stop thinking about you all the time. I don’t want anyone else-”.

Grabbing your face with both of his hands, he presses desperate kisses to your forehead. The rain bears down hard, lightning cracking in the sky, but you’re numb to everything else except the feeling of his lips pressing their love onto your skin.

“You’re it for me,” his voice wavers. The vulnerable confession sends you into a fresh wave of emotions and you grip onto the back of his neck, crying into his shoulder. “You’re my heart. I knew it from the first moment I saw you”.

Pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes, he brushes back the wet strands of hair stuck to your face. You’re tempted to do the same, the once golden locks now almost black against his brow.

“I love you”.

The words leave his lips so suddenly, but they’ve been at the tip of his tongue for so long they roll off with ease. Your heart drums against your chest as time seems to stop.

“You love me?” you choke, not believing your ears. His forehead is pressed against yours.

“I love you,” he repeats, “I love you. More than anything. So much that I can’t breathe. I was so scared when you left today because I thought I did something wrong and I was thinking of what I said and I was sitting at my desk waiting for you to call because I wasn’t sure if I should call you first after what happened but then I almost did and then-,”

You shut him up with your lips.

He sinks into your touch, responding naturally as you kiss him with everything you have.

Your mind spins with a mixture of relief and excitement as you let all of your worries go. It was never about other people, you realize, it was about your own insecurities and you were tearing yourself down. Without realizing it, you forgot to take into account the other half of the relationship: Mark’s opinion.

But now you know for sure, the opinion that actually matters, not the anonymous person who doesn’t know better. He loves you. It’s you he’s chosen. Out of all of the people he could pick from, Mark holds you in his arms, whispering soft ‘I love you’s’ between each kiss. Kisses to your lips.

How could you ever want him to be with someone else when you’re the one he wants?

“I love you too,” you reply breathlessly into his open kiss.

We deserve to be happy.

He doesn’t say anything, instead responding by tugging your waist closer to him, moving his jaw feverishly to indulge you deeper. Water drips down from his hair, splashing onto the bridge of your nose.

“Let’s go inside,” you gasp. The heat of the moment made you temporarily forget, but the icy November weather slowly started to soak past your jacket. You shiver as a strong gust of wind blows past your drenched body.

Mark leads you inside and you hustle up to his suite. His hand is warm against your wrist and you can’t wait for it to be tangled in your hair again.

Slamming open the door, Mark’s arms are around your waist before it could drift shut. You jump up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he carries you to his room, lips never leaving yours.

Jeno, unsuspecting, is lying on his bed with a book in his hands. If your eyes were open, you would flush at the incredulous look the poor boy shoots towards you.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend works at your jacket zipper quickly, removing the wet outer layers as he sits you on his bed.

Pausing a second, he turns his head to speak to his roommate.

“Out”.

You don’t have time to feel embarrassed before Mark’s jacket is on the floor and he’s lying you back, hovering over your body. The bedroom door rams shut as Jeno scurries out, not keen on seeing the scene progress any further.

I’m sorry, man.

Your mental apology doesn’t last long as your wet hair soaks into the pillowcase beneath you. Mark kisses a line from your jaw down the side of your neck, raindrops wet on his tongue. The heat of his body contrasts the cold of yours and you want all of it against you.

Rain-stained articles of clothing gather on the floor in no time.

“God, I love you so much,” Mark hushes against your ear. His gruff tone sends shivers down your back and you scratch your nails through the base of his hair. Your legs find their way around his hips again, pulling him down impossibly closer.

“I love you too,” you gasp back.

He kisses between your collarbones, then looks back into your eyes, “do you want this?”.

You nod frantically, your voice nothing short of breathless. “I want this”.

Peace you haven’t been able to feel for a long time blankets you as you lie on your lover’s chest, the two of you fresh out of breath. Such a revelation- him telling you he loved you was. And you want to savor the feeling forever.

It feels as if there was a thorn lodged in your heart, festering for months from your terrible, insecure thoughts and you’ve finally yanked it out. It feels like you can finally breathe.

Well, metaphorically. Physically, you may need a few minutes.

Mark’s hair sticks up in every direction, frizzy from being half-dried and from your constant tugging. Nonetheless, he looks beautiful to you in the dim, lamp-lit room. His chest rises and falls in your embrace and your fingers work to delicately trace the toned muscles of his torso. Mimicking your movements, he grazes his thumbs over the blue-purple masterpiece he’s painted across your neck and chest.

“Good?,” he asks nonchalantly.

You let out a soft snort at the sudden question.

Men will always be men.

“Great,” you admit. Heat creeps into your face as you recall the last hour or so.

You guess there’s more benefits of hockey than just the uniform: the stamina and athleticism.

His inflated ego fills the room palpably as he shifts in the messy bed, tugging the covers more over your tangled bodies. Noises arise from the kitchen, probably from his other suitemates. Embarrassment fills you to the brim when you realize that everyone probably heard the two of you. You were far too busy caught up in your passionate feelings to consider this, and now it’s come back to bite.

Huffing shyly, you hide your growing blush into the nape of your boyfriend’s neck. Clanging of kitchenware resonates clearly through the room’s thin walls. You can’t help but distress over how clearly the others could hear you. And for such a long time too.

Oh my gosh. How will I ever face them?

Mark seems to sense your thoughts and lets out a light chuckle.

“Babe, we’re fine. They all hookup all the time. And Yuna-,”

“I don’t need to know, thank you,” you interrupt sharply. Squeezing your eyes shut, you fight off the disturbing imagery.

Ten��s voice drifts through the suite and the sound of the front door shutting rings through them with unnerving vigor. You jolt at the bang, stiffly turning your neck towards the locked bedroom door, as if it would reveal any answers. Mark looks at you, the confused expression on his face making it apparent that he doesn’t know what is happening either. Slowly, he shifts up into a sitting position.

“You’re fucking kidding me - it was that bitch?”. The senior boy’s voice cuts through the nighttime quiet abruptly. Struggling to stitch together the context of the overheard conversation, you force your sore body to sit up as well. From how it sounds, it seems like Ten is on a phone call.

You look at your boyfriend for confirmation. With a nod, the two of you mutually agree to silently withdraw from the comfort of the covers and get dressed.

“I don’t - listen to me, do they know for sure?,” Ten asks anxiously from the other side of the door.

With increasing concern, you hastily pick up your wet, discarded clothing. The cold, uncomfortable sensation makes you wince. Mark grabs your wrist, preventing you from putting on the still-soaked yoga pants. Shaking his head, he takes the garment and tosses it over his desk chair. From his dresser, he hands you a dry set of his own clothing.

The gesture makes you smile and you gratefully pull on the warm sweats and hoodie. They’re obscenely large for your frame, but it’s a sure upgrade from your sad, rain-ruined outfit. Mark ruffles your hair, cheeks like strawberries as he kneels down without a word to roll up your pants.

A small giggle escapes your lips. He’s just seen you naked, but of course it’s this that gets him blushing.

The happy expression is quickly wiped off your face as Ten continues abruptly, anger apparent in his voice.

“Fucking hell! Hillary Choi? The bitch even admitted to it?”. The senior captain’s voice is nothing less than a yell now. Mark’s mouth hangs open in shock as he stares towards the door. The concern and shock shining in his eyes allude to how uncharacteristic his friend’s behavior is.

“Hillary Choi…,” you mutter under your breath, the name ever so familiar to your ears.

“Wait she’s…,” Mark turns his gaze to you carefully, silently confirming his correct assumption.

“She’s the one who hates me…,” you confirm bitterly with a nod.

Mark stands up, grabbing both your hands as you sit back on his bed. His expression is sad, perhaps also peppered with anger - something you’ve never seen in your boyfriend. Gently, he tugs you to your feet.

As you push the bedroom door open slightly, the common room comes into view. Ten’s figure is hunched over the kitchen sink, listening intently to the person on the other side of the phone speak. His breathing is rushed - you’ve only ever seen him this mad the day Yuna entered the hospital.

Then it all makes sense.

Opening the door fully, you reveal Jeno and Haechan sitting on the common room couch. You make eye contact with them as you and Mark stand at the doorway, listening. Their expressions tell that they’re equally as concerned as you.

Mark’s hand in yours, you tiptoe your way to join the two friends on the sofa.

“The fucking psycho bitch,” Ten spits. His hands run furiously through his raven hair as he begins pacing around. The senior sees all of you gathered together, but makes no move to acknowledge any of you other than a hard stare.

The tension is suffocating. Everyone wants to say something, but the waters seem too rough to test. Anxious glances are exchanged, but not a word leaves any of your mouths as Ten continues pacing around, the other speaker on the phone relaying more information. You conclude to wait until the call is over before you try to ask.

“Okay so she’s at the police station right now? ”.

Mark’s hand squeezes yours in silent shock.

“Okay… fuck,” Ten rubs tiredly at the bridge of his nose, “alright okay, thank you, officer. I- yeah I’m okay, thank you. Tell Yuna I’m on my way now”.

A moment of silence suspends heavily over the air as he hangs up the call. The breath you didn’t know you were holding escapes in relief as Haechan clears his throat awkwardly and takes one for the team.

“Uh…,” the sophomore calculates for a bit, eyeing the enraged senior carefully, “Ten, what’s going on?”.

For the first time ever, it seems, the mischievous boy’s voice rid itself of its usual snide tone, replaced by refreshing sincerity.

Ten sets down his hand, revealing tears building up in his previously covered eyes. Jeno doesn’t waste a second, getting off the couch without a word and wrapping his arms around his crying friend.

You hesitate before asking, “It’s Yuna’s case?”. Keeping your voice as steady as possible, you hope you’ve succeeded in masking your growing fear.

Ten sniffs, patting Jeno’s back, prompting the younger to let go. Wiping away the stray tears, he nods. Everyone waits patiently as the distraught senior calms himself down with deep breaths.

“They caught the person who tried to kill her- or is it people? I don’t even know. And yes - they tried to kill her,” Ten rubs a stressed finger between his brow, “It was Hillary Choi, some junior girl who’s obsessed with Mark - she’s in our fanclub or whatever. They said she confessed it was all part of a plan? I don’t- I don’t know,” his voice breaks off as he tugs at his hair before heading over to grab his keys.

“Wait, I don’t understand. If she’s obsessed with me why would she go try to hurt Yuna?,” Mark’s voice rings with alarm. A sinking feeling of dread sits in your stomach like a block of cement.

“It’s-,” Ten huffs into his hands, “let’s go to the station first and the bitch can tell you herself, she’s there apparently. Yuna is too. I don’t want to keep Yuna waiting there alone any longer so let’s go”.

The drive is silent, save the rumbling of the pavement below the car’s tires. Mark’s hand grips yours like a vice, but you don’t say anything. In fact, it kind of keeps you grounded as your anxiety goes through the roof. You’re no Sherlock, but hearing news that a girl who’s obsessed with your boyfriend (as has been sending you hate messages for months, no less) tried to kill your best friend, almost succeeding, bodes terribly for you.

It had stopped raining a while ago and the five of you hurry your way through the fresh puddles dotting the police station lot.

“Yuna?,” Ten calls out as the glass doors slide open.

“Here,” a weak reply voices from behind a partition.

Rushing over, you see that Yuna’s usual perfect composition is instead worn-down: her platinum blonde hair falls limply down her shoulders and her face is gaunt with distress.

You had just seen her a few hours ago and she was even the one comforting you then. But now it’s your turn as you carefully kneel down beside her chair and pull her instinctively into a hug.

“Officer, can you please tell us what’s going on?,” Mark stops a nearby woman in uniform.

“You’re all friends of Ms. Kim?,” she inquires, continuing as a chorus of confirmations fills the room, “Okay, just a second”.

The woman appears visibly tired, probably pulled out of bed at an ungodly hour to cover this shift. Taking a long sip of her coffee, the white curls of steam prance around the air as you itch for answers. Setting the hot beverage down on the desk beside her, she straightens her badge. ‘Detective Jeong’, it reads.

“We have a confession,” Jeong relays finally, “earlier today- or yesterday, I should say- we received a call from our traffic security team detailing that they spotted the same model of car as the one thought to be involved with the accident on September 15th the uh-,” she stops to check her clipboard, “black 2018 Audi A4. We issued a warrant to interrogate the driver as quickly as possible, although not much was needed since the perpetrator, Miss Hillary Choi, confessed to the hit and run almost immediately”.

You hug Yuna tighter, Ten embracing from her other side.

“You have the confession, did she say why?,” Jeno asks sternly.

“This is where it gets slightly more complicated and I want to ask, is a Miss y/n here?”.

The mention of your name makes you perk up, surprised.

“That’s me,” you stand up slowly, “why?”.

Mark places a hand at the small of your back in concern.

“y/n…,” Yuna sobs softly, gripping your arm. A thousand thoughts run through your head as your struggle to understand what is happening.

“Yes?,” you brush the fallen strands of hair behind her ear.

“I want her to say it,” Yuna directs, speaking to the detective now.

“Now we do have Miss Choi in our custody right now, but you’ll have to move back into the interrogation room if you wish to speak with her, for safety reasons”.

You nod, helping Yuna onto her crutches as everyone moves towards the back of the station. It feels as if you’re dreaming, that reality has separated itself into a different plane than the one you’re in and your existence has become but a construct. Your legs move on autopilot while your eyes are fixed ahead, but not really looking at anything in particular.

The room you enter is dark and stuffy. Even with Haechan and Jeno opting to wait outside, it is far too crowded for the four of you. The room is divided into two; the other side is fully visible but unreachable due to a large plexiglass window in between. It’s eerily isolating. Yuna is ushered onto the only fold-up chair on your side of the room.

As the late-night officers go to bring Hillary in, the apprehension in the air is thick enough to be spread on your breakfast toast. The only comfort that comes to you is Mark’s arms wrapped around your waist. It’s the only thing that you can make sense of right now.

The door on the opposite side slams open suddenly, drawing a sharp gasp from you. Mark’s fingers curl protectively into your hoodie as Hillary enters.

It’s surreal. This woman - handcuffs and all - carries a plain, calm expression as she sits down casually in her own fold-up chair. You hadn’t seen her in a while, but her beady-eyed gaze is as intense as ever. The red streaks in her hair are outgrown, falling awkwardly around the bright orange of her jumpsuit.

“What’s up?,” Hillary asks, tone cool as if she were not being held for attempted murder at the moment. Her dark eyes settle on you, the arms around your waist, then back to you. Hillary’s stoic face is unreadable, yet it sends chills down your spine like a thousand spiders.

“What’s up? You absolute psycho bitch-,” Ten rails, banging on the glass barrier with a clenched fist. He pulls back as the officer gives him a warning. Yuna pulls him back to calm him down.

Your eyes don’t leave hers. They’re a dark brown, almost black, and you find yourself sinking into them - pulled into them like they’re black holes of concentrated hatred.

Closing your eyes, you pull your mind back to yourself.

For months on end, you’ve been the recipient of her constant torment. It not only affected your mental health, but almost cost you the relationship of a lifetime. This whole time, you’ve been afraid of her words, letting them eat away at your dignity from inside out until you were nearly gone.

But if you had the weapon of confidence - if you had simply chosen to stand up and reply, to say ‘no, you’re wrong’, her arrows would have fallen limp to the ground and she couldn’t have hurt you. Hurt your friend.

You open your eyes, this time staring back hard. Hillary’s expression is unfazed, but you imagine she’s surprised at your change in mentality.

“Tell me everything,” you demand firmly.

Hillary scoffs, as if the situation is amusing.

“Fuck you, tell us everything,” Ten hisses.

Hillary rolls her eyes. “Fine. Only because she wouldn’t want me to be mean to you, Ten”.

“Who?,” you ask rigidly.

“I’ll get to that, bitch,” she sneers.

“Hey, don’t call her that,” Mark warns.

The psychopath in orange laughs maniacally, though you can’t place your finger on what she finds funny.

“Funny,” she gasps for breath, slapping her knees vigorously, “funny how now you talk to me!”.

“She’s nuts,” Yuna states.

“The whole damn Planters factory,” you agree.

“You people wouldn’t know a thing!,” Hillary fires, pointing an accusing finger around the room. Her face is red from her laughing fit, almost as red as her disgruntled bangs. Eyes now glistening with rage, you press back into Mark’s embrace when her personality flips 180 degrees in under a second. “You don’t know anything!,” she screams, “You don’t know! You don’t know!”.

The four of you watch in shock as Hillary melts down, the guard coming up and restraining her to the chair. She’s thrashing around, chanting the phrase over and over again.

“You’ll never know how much I love you, Mark,” Hillary shrieks, smiling hauntingly as she’s forced back into the chair and cuffed to it, “and you’ll never know how much she loves you, Ten”.

“What the fuck?,” Ten rightfully shouts.

“Tell us who!,” you raise your voice.

“I’m getting there, b-,” she stops in the middle of the slur, glancing at your boyfriend. In the blink of an eye, her expression jumps from pure disdain to sickly sweet, “baby”.

Anger flushes through your body. Wanting to provoke her a little, you turn your gaze to your boyfriend. Predictably, he immediately turns his full attention to you. A scrunch of his brow asks you if you’re okay.

“Did you enjoy them?,” Hillary’s voice is ‘normal’ again as she asks the out-of-context question.

“What?,” Ten pries, unamused.

“Did you,” she points her finger directly at you, “enjoy my messages?”.

Oh boy, oh boy. I was waiting for you to ask that.

The words rush to your mouth, every comeback you’ve ever made manifesting into the pinnacle of all comebacks, “As a matter of fact, I did,” you smile brightly, “I especially enjoyed the one’s where you said Mark doesn’t love me and doesn’t want me. I like to think of the irony of it all when we’re sleeping together and he gives me these”.

You tug down the collar of your hoodie (that’s actually his which makes it even better) to reveal the hickies blooming down your neck. “If only you could know how good it feels, but you’re undoubtedly alone”.

Yuna snickers beside you, but Mark’s signature laugh shamelessly fills the limited space around you. The mood of the room changes completely at your words, the seriousness dissipating like sugar in hot water. It’s so refreshing, the feeling of being in control of yourself. Hillary, the person you used to be so afraid of looks so small in her isolation. There’s nothing to her at all, now that you know to stand up for yourself. You’ve never felt so… powerful.

In any other situation, you would have died in embarrassment from sharing personal information like that, but you’re on a roll. And it’s bitch ass Hillary we’re talking about here. Even Ten looks mildly impressed by your new attitude, a tiny smile quirked on his lips.

“You-,” Hillary pouts, “how could you, Mark, how could you do this to me? You and I both know we loved each other first. We still love each other”.

“I have literally no idea what you mean,” Mark emphasizes, moving his hands to grip your shoulders, “you need some serious help, man”.

“I’ll fucking kill you!,” she screams at you again.

“No you won’t,” you chuckle, “you’re locked up! At this point it’s a little amusing.

“You wanna know what the plan was? Me and Seojung were gonna kill you both. I take the bitch that’s dating Ten and she takes the slut who took Mark from me. I got so close, following you, blondie, to the party, but you just had to live-”

“The fuck did you just say?”

“Sick psycho oh my god”

“Yeah good luck doing that from prison, asshole”

The room erupts in replies that cut her off.

“Alright, time’s up,” the guard announces. The door on your side of the room opens, a gust of cool air welcoming you as Detective Jeong appears to usher you out. Turning around to give Hillary one last word as the officer drags her back to her cell, you’re not surprised to meet her menacing eyes.

“He loves me,” you state confidently, “and he always will. Enjoy hell”.

With that, the door shuts behind her and the worst chapter of your life dots its last concluding period. It’s the last one that you’ll let someone else write for you. You’re more than ready to pick up the pen and turn the next page. Excitedly, you head out to your friends waiting on you outside.

“Don’t worry, we’ve monitored that whole conversation and everything will be used against her in court,” Jeong assures, “Miss y/n, you might remember Choi mentioned a ‘Seojung’ and we want to make sure you know that she has been detained and held at the Gangnam Police Station. We’re waiting on her statement, but if what Choi testified is true, we’re looking at life in prison for both parties”.

“Not death?,” Ten scoffs.

“Not death, no,” the detective shakes her head.

“So basically, they’re both insane. And they did all this because they thought Ten and Mark belonged to them,” Haechan follows slowly, having just been filled in.

“We gotta put an end to this fanclub shit. Why are our lives controlled by these freaks,” Jeno groans.

He’s right. He’s so right. The whole thing is disgusting, especially when none of the Lee’s ever asked for it to be formed. If it’s already gotten to the point where members are caught in homicidal attempts, there’s no way the Lovelees club can continue to exist.

The station is nearly empty now, almost all of the officers handling the case calling it a night and heading home. Not wanting to keep Detective Jeong any longer, the six of you head out to the car. It’s nearly four in the morning and the adrenaline is wearing off, exhaustion replacing it.

“Hey but y/n, you were so good in there,” Yuna smiles, bumping you with her shoulder as you walk through the parking lot. The night air is cold against your skin, filled with the scent of petrichor.

“Yeah, you,” Mark looks at you with doe eyes, arm slung around your shoulders.

Letting out a short laugh, you press your lips quickly to his cheek.

“And I’m assuming based on how this looks, the conversation went well?,” Yuna adds.

“Only thanks to you,” you appreciate, turning from your best friend to Mark, “I think we’re all good now”.

Mark beams at you as Ten unlocks his car, bringing you in for an elated kiss.

Groans erupt from all around.

“You’ve seriously been going at it all night, none of us have gotten any sleep,” Haechan whines loudly.

“Bruh,” says Jeno.

“Then get yourself a girlfriend, fatass, I don’t know what to say,” Mark retaliates.

You reluctantly pull away as everyone piles into the vehicle. Haechan, you don’t feel bad for. He could cry and pout all day and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Jeno, is a different story.

Memories of earlier cause your fingers to curl up in cringe; the way he was minding his own business in his own room only to be caught in the middle of your… make-up methods.

“Hey…,” you apologize as you cram into the seat next to him, “I’m uh- I’m sorry about earlier”.

“I don’t want to talk about it”. The blue-haired boy massages the crease between his brows, stressed.

“Right okay,” you nod.

“Not to ruin the mood, but are you okay y/n? I feel like we’re moving too fast past what you’ve been dealing with for the past few months. I mean… I just want to make sure I’m not in the dark about your feelings again,” Mark asks softly.

Silence falls upon the car as the group awaits your answer. You look to the passenger seat, to Yuna, as Ten cruises down the city street.

“I’ll never forgive her,” you finally admit, “either one of them. They can literally rot in hell for all I care. But for me, I’m okay. If anything, this whole thing has taught me a lot and I’ve grown a lot from it. Both of them are locked up, so I’m not scared anymore. Oddly, I feel really free”.

Packed into a tiny car, cruising down the streets of Seoul, you admire the friends around you. You’re surrounded by love. Your best friend and the love of her life. Your soulmate and his two best friends (who have become like family to you). Back on campus, Hope and Lisa sleep away, unaware of the chaos of today. You can imagine the looks on their faces as Yuna and you fill them in. Irreplaceable, every one of them.

Life is full of way too many amazing things for any number of crazy bitches to ruin. Just as your friends have become irreplaceable to you, you are irreplaceable to them too. It’s due time that you give some credit to yourself.

I am truly confident. I am worthy. I am loved.

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ohnobjyx · 4 years

Text

To the snowy summit side by side

红尘中毁誉得失如何去量?

Part 7: And now... what?

This is a post long overdue. I must admit, this is the most difficult one, so I was putting it off, reading again and again what I had already written and browsing through the internet to try and get the most complete picture.

Disclaimer: in this case, almost all of the post is my personal opinion (I tried to keep the previous post objective). I’m biased because of the XZ friendly content I’m usually exposed to and by my own views of their situation. Open to discussion, but please make sure you’ve enough information to do so.

Let’s go back to anon’s original ask:

Hello could you give us an update on xz's situation? I know we*bo and his studio has taken some steps recently but how has this affected public opinion on xz? Has it improved/ are more people favoring him or has it gotten worse?

I think I have been answering your first question in the past posts. However, about the next two:

When I was compiling information and writing the previous posts, a song kept coming back again and again to my head, specifically, this part of the lyrics:

红尘中毁誉得失如何去量?

In the mortal world, how can praise or condemnation, success and failure be measured?

(Yes, it’s from WuJi-无羁)

Innocence

What happened to XZ was a combination of incredibly bad luck, strenuous social circumstances (the pandemic), high stress in the public and a set of underlying issues that had been festering for a long time.

From being a celebrity on the way up, he suddenly became a scapegoat for a conflict he hadn’t caused and the receiver of a lot of senseless hate. He didn’t do anything from start to finish in the 2/27, but ended up the most affected from it, as the consequences reverberated all the way from March to July.

Because XZ didn’t ask the author to write such a fanfic. He didn’t request for it to be taken down. He didn’t ask his fans to report anything. And he didn’t have anything to do with ao3 being banned in the country as a response. From start to finish, he didn’t participate in any of it.

Many of the analysis I’ve watched/read determine that the cause of the problem were his fans. One of the bloggers even said that “his fans are the ones that have hindered his career the most”.

But, from my point of view, the saying of “two people can’t have an argument if one of them doesn’t want to” also applies here. From start to finish, the issue was filled with overreactions and exaggerated responses from both XZ’s fans and the rest of the people that engaged in this ridiculous fan war with them.

However, let’s keep in mind that “XZ’s fans” is also a huge generalization. Most of the people don’t have the necessary time, resources and mental energy to engage in ridiculous crusades in the name of their favoured celebrity.

Part of the reasoning of the anti-XZ faction is that he should have taken measures and steps to make sure that his fans didn’t cross the line. However, even if the people leading all of this are only a small % of his fans, they are still a lot of people. Being the receiver of their fans’ love and admiration doesn’t make him and his team able to discern who is a reasonable, sensible fan, and who is a crazed troublemaker. And being famous and admired shouldn’t make him the responsible of all of his fans actions (in my opinion). I think this is also how Western society would view the situation.

I was surprised to discover that c-society did expect him to “guide” his fans, because he has a huge influence on them and he’s supposed to guide them towards more civilized behaviour. It’s not of course what everyone thinks, but the stance his studio has taken also points in recognizing that they should have done that (there are more reasons to their stance, of course, explained in the part 5+6).

However, people did realize (I think) that most of the people that follows him gives him support silently. There are of course ardent and fervent people who jump to defend him, but even that kind of behaviour is discouraged by XZ’s studio (applying that ignoring the antis is the greatest way to defeat them).

So here it came the lyrics from WuJi. It’s true that a fraction of his fans have caused him a lot of trouble. But this kind of fans (there is a fine line between very invested and obsessed) are also the ones who push forward a lot of events, who create things like “XZ’s fans Association” and who promote his works the most. His studio did call them out in the end, and said that everyone should relax in their support, but it’s also true that this fans also had a great hand in pushing him to the top of the charts. There’s a very fine line between gain and loss here, so how can one measure the value?

(But the antis who disguise as his fans and create trouble just for the sake of ruining his reputation are a whole other issue. No excuses for them).

Finally, the answers

To answer (I know we*bo and his studio has taken some steps recently but how has this affected public opinion on xz? Has it improved/ are more people favoring him or has it gotten worse?) more exactly:

When we are talking about public opinion, it can actually be divided into 3 factions: his fans, the antis, and the actual general public who is neutral by default.

1. His fans stayed the same, supporting him through the storm. The opinion of the fans isn’t so easily swayed (though he has lost some in this process, he has also gained new followers), and the main feeling they have towards him now can be summarized in 心疼 (”xin teng”, a feeling that, in this case, can be described as “I’m really sorry that all of this has happened to you because I know that you were innocent in this”). I’ll explain a little bit more about his fans support in the last part of the post.

2. The antis can also be divided into 2 groups: “regular” antis and “professional” antis. The 2/27 Great Union community still exists, but it’s a closed off community and to enter it, the new member has to be approved by a moderator. I’ve seen public comments with the 2/27 Great Union tag, that after his interviews have morphed into “I’m a commoner and I hate XZ”, but they are a lot less active these days. Even if they still have hate after everything that happened, the average anti has gone back to their usual life after quarantine was lifted, so it’s less active.

Some of the “regular” antis will stay active, but that’s to be expected. For example, some of WYB’s solo fans were all exploding over the new vlog XZ’s Studio updated three days ago. While it’s ridiculous for the rest of us, these people will continue their “XZ is using WYB to further his own fame” campaign.

However, it’s different with the “professional” anti. As we said in previous posts, people like “B” has a lot of time, energy and resources to invest in a smear campaign against XZ. Where does all of that come from? I don’t know. What I do know is that once XZ’s topic cools down enough and another scandal of another idol, no matter how small, appears, they’ll shift to hate content about the other idol. What matters to them is to produce content that people will engage with, so they get more views and followers, and profit with it.

3. And now, the “neutral-by-default general public”. There is a problem in how we, as netizens, manage the information. In the previous post, I talked about a hater who had written an assessment because “XZ’s fans” had insulted her parents. While the main objective of the document wasn’t to see how the general public views him, I took the data she had extracted.

The general public isn’t so neutral anymore. While it’s true that XZ keeps gaining fans (he’s still riding on CQL’s success train), what general public, the average passerby, has heard from him is:

A XZ fan has stolen a deceased person’s account to keep promoting him

“XZ’s fans” attack a user’s parents on Father’s Day.

A primary school teacher promotes her favourite idol in her class.

These are bound to create a bad image and reputation in people’s mind. We know (I explained all of those incidents in previous posts) that only the teacher incident was truly caused by a XZ fan. There’s no proof that the person who insulted that user’s parents was a XZ fan, and w/ibo has proved that the “stolen” account incident was a scheme from start to finish.

However, the headache in all of those incidents is that the initial issue (“a XZ fan stole a deceased person account to continue to promote him!”) is announced widely and loudly, attracting people’s attention to it. However, people won’t dig up more information. Less than half will actually read the article or investigate more about it. W/ibo actually investigating it and discovering that it was all a plot to frame XZ isn’t given importance, nor does it go on the hot search chart. People only know what happened at first, but don’t know how the story ended. And this is a huge problem for him, because people accuse him but don’t care to know if he was actually the culprit.

(Wow, just like WWX in CQL).

So I found this to describe it.

There are still neutral people: those who couldn’t care less about the tabloids, and that never read gossip sites. These are still a great part of the general public. Anon was asking about the public opinion: the fact is that previously neutral people have only heared bad things about him for half a year, so that’s bound to affect their image of someone they’re not invested in.

If XZ were defeated, and retired, I’m sure a lot of articles like “framing the innocent” would appear. We people just like to have something to talk about.

His fans’ support

XZ ended 2019 with his followers on w/ibo numbering on 21,690,000. The exact number of his w/ibo followers right now is 26,458,877 (26,459,350 two hours later, by the time I’m editing this to post it). He continues to be liked by more people, and antis may try to reduce his popularity, but it’s a fact that his talent and effort are appreciated by people with no hidden agenda.

XZ is also slowly coming back to work and to his endorsements, which are very good news. We saw him recently in the R/SEONLY add for Chinese Qixi, in the event for Cao Yu’s anniversary, the vlog the studio updated.

Less directly, Kai Xiao Zao, one of the brands that didn’t stop working with him even after 2/27 (they are a smaller brand, and they must have invested a lot in their endorser, so they can’t just put him aside like other bigger brands did), recently put up little stands in malls all over China to promote their new product. In every stand there was a wall for customers to write and a couple of XZ cardboard cutouts.

In his interview in Yunnan, XZ had been seen wearing his red cord bracelet, to ward off bad luck. So fans started to add their own amulets to ward off bad luck and offerings to the cutouts.

They started off like this...

Fans came...

And they ended up like this. The funny fact it’s that people started to add plush toys, hats and even food to the cutouts, so based on what “XZ” is wearing one can guess where was the photo taken.

This was a widespread phenomenon in all of KXZ stands. So to say that XZ has lost support from his fans would be certainly false.

His dramas are also expected to be aired soon and have been confirmed to. His patience is paying off little by little, and he’s coming back to work.

The moral of the story

I hope we can all learn something from this. If anything, it has changed my own attitude on the Internet. I used to be very quick to answer with extreme words if I felt strongly about a topic. Now I try to tone down my responses. I’m not saying that you’d all do the same, but it’s a lesson I extract from other people’s experiences. History should serve to avoid mistakes others have committed as much as possible.

In the technology and communications based world we live in, to believe that what we do on Internet doesn’t affect real people’s everyday lives is a huge lie. So, now that we can see that XZ is slowly coming back, let’s all remember that this once happened: let’s all be kind on the internet and avoid engaging with people who dedicate themselves to spread hate.

It has been hard on him. But he’s going to top the snowy summit. Let’s do our best to support him rationally.

Prev: Part 5 and 6: A snowy summit

#gg's situation #part 7 out of 7 #finally finished #my post #ask

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lumilasi · 4 years

Photo

UPDATE: added her civilian outfit + updated rest of her bio

Her bio below

Age: 34 when Kain and Ryuu arrived in her place the first time, 40 now

Sexuality: lesbian

KEI’S QUIRK EXPLAINED

Quirk name: Knight (Pros in normal, cons in bold)

SWORD MODE

When in this mode, her attack will always cause damage regardless of the opponent’s defenses and invulnerability. How severe it is depends on the opponent, but the attack will always have some form of impact.

She can also easily break through physical emitter attacks that require offence tactics, such as Ice or soil-based quirks that aim to immobilize you.

she can switch between her two modes fairly quickly by default, making her a very efficient fighter.

The strength of her attacks depends heavily on her physical health; if she’s feeling weaker, her attack efficiency is weaker too, as well as the speed in switching between her two modes.

She tends to be on her other mode by default, so Kei needs to physically switch herself into the offensive mode, and when she does that, she can’t use her shield mode abilities.

SHIELD MODE

“Shield mode” basically makes her immune/highly resistant to any types of attacks, and this includes non-direct emitters like brainwashing. She has this mode on by default constantly.

Quirk-erasure skills are the only exception to her immunity, though only indirect emitter types; any quirk erasure that requires physical contact won’t work on her.

Like with the sword mode, her defense strength and stamina depends on her current fitness.

RANDOM FACTS

- “Kei” means Knight, and “Reidou” means “mother” and “home”

- Her new name was given to her by an elderly couple who took care of her for a while after she managed to flee the commission agents after her (by luck), making them think she was dead.

- Her original name basically means “fire heart autumn child”, a nod to her strong willed nature, warm color scheme and the fact she was born in fall.

- She often likes to wear tank tops and cardigans. For shoes she either wears those brown boots or sandals, all the time. Sandals for exceptionally warm weather, boots for any other weather. She refuses to wear any other kind of footwear.

- She was a very skinny and petite as a child, but due to her quirk grew much more strong framed overtime.

- Like said, Kei isn’t truly a villain but more of a vigilante. While she’d lost her trust in the system, she wanted still to help people, despite knowing it was risky as it could potentially reveal she was alive.

- She drinks a lot of coffee, and does frequent a bar Aizawa sometimes goes to with Mic and Nemuri. She has even talked with the pro-hero at times and they kinda get along. Aizawa has his suspicions that she’s a Vigilante of some sort, but never asks questions about it.

- She works in a local coffee shop of the village she’s living in. As a result Kei drinks a shit-ton of coffee, and usually black. She also occasionally suffers from Insomnia.

- She’s not that bothered by Ryuu and Kain’s sometimes brutal and violent antics, because she has seen first hand how the supposed “good guy side” sometimes does even worse bullshit.

- Rankure gives her grey hairs with her gullible nature and tendency to end up mixed up in random schemes, but she loves her anyway. As long as she doesn’t get mixed with the big wigs on either side, she’s fine with her antics.

- Kei was the one who taught Wasabi how to use the staff, because he saw her train with it one day and thought it was cool, so he wanted to learn it too.

PERSONALITY

Kei is pretty calm and stoic for the most part, with a dry and sarcastic sense of humor. She is very distrustful of strangers due to her past experiences, and it takes her a while to warm up to people, apart from those she sees are obviously in great need of help; even with them, she won’t share her personal history easily. It took her a long time to tell her story to Rankure and Wasabi for example.

She can be pretty intimidating when angry, and overall has big “momma bear” or “Mama Lion” energy as Rankure describes it.

Because of her past, and guilt issues, she can take topics touching her history very personally, getting overtly aggressive to people’s faces for these issues, such as people being insensitive over death, child abuse, or when people ridicule somebody for questioning things reasonably (namely anything about the hero structure) She’s generally known for having the kind of temper that can go from zero to a hundred in a snap second if you rub her the wrong way.

She’s also not very fond of heroes, but doesn’t really hate them knowing most are just puppets for their leaders, not realizing how badly flawed the system they uphold is. Nowadays she just prefers minding her own business, running the small coffee shop and being the rational one in her found family.

BACKGROUND STORY:

Kei’s parents were friends with Akashiro’s wife, and she used to babysit Kain when he was very little, before the boy was fully locked up in the facility his dad worked in.

After his quirk manifested, Kei began to notice problematic signs from the way his father treated the boy, and how often he had to go through “clinical checks” that always seemed to leave the boy shaken.

Initially, the child did not want to tell her anything about what was going on despite her concern, but eventually relented, which prompted the then-teenager Kei to confront his dad about it. He told her to keep her nose out of his business however, stating it was a government matter, the situation with Kain.

She kept arguing over this with Daiki (Kain’s father) for months, after seeing more and more worrying signs in the boy, until one day he lost control of his quirk one time she was visiting the laboratory. After yelling at Daiki’s face she was dragged away and thrown out forcibly, told to return home.

After this incident, her and her family began to feel like they were being followed, and one day as they headed for a holiday trip, their car swayed off the road due to a sudden storm, and caused it to fall to the sea; Kei managed to survive thanks to her quirk, but her parents died. (she later found out the car had been tampered with as someone *cough*theherocomission*cough* wanted to get rid of her and her family as they knew too much about Dr. Akashiro’s work)

She initially suffered from amnesia, and was taken in and raised by an elderly couple in a smaller more rural town, who also gave her her new name, named after the old woman’s late mother. Once her memory returned couple years later, she initially wanted to find out what happened that night, returning to the capital secretly. She quickly realized that trying to dig into this could be too dangerous, so she decided to leave it be. This trip inspired her to become a Vigilante though, as a bit of a way to make amends over her guilt for what she felt was her fault; her parents dying and an innocent boy being left behind in a horrid situation.

Years later, she ran into a young woman who was carrying a troubled looking child, being chased by a bunch of gangsters. Kei, being reminded of the kid she hadn’t been able to save, decided to step in and managed to drive off the gangsters by sheer intimidation thanks to her strength and durability that her quirk gave her. She allowed the pair to stay with her, not caring that the woman - Rankure - had a bit of a criminal record, let alone what she learned from the little boy, Saname.

She’d seen this all before, but this time, she could help.

Then, many, many years later, she was almost discovered by some government agents who’d heard rumors about a liability still perhaps being alive. Kain showed up however that day, basically steering them away from her and making them fully think it was a false alarm.

As an expression of gratitude and another form of amend to Kain, Kei allowed him and his friend - whom she knew was a dangerous criminal, if not known around there - to stay as long as they promised to not cause trouble, which both agreed to.

#my art stuff #bnha vigilante oc #my bnha oc #boku no hero oc #kei Reidou #my hero academy oc #bnha oc #character bio #character reference #updates may occur #Lumi's art scribbles #Lumi's chaotic creations

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jokertrap-ran · 4 years

Photo

[Stand My Heroes] 挽夏のミステリーブライド (Late summer Mystery Bride) Event Story: Part ④ Translations [FINAL]

*Sutamai Master-list *MC name is retained default Izumi Rei *Scenario Writer: @eno_bara (榎戸乃ばら)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Special Stages

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Corridor ☆⋅⋆

Rei: ――!

Rei: (…I’m in the Corridors. And it’s back to being Afternoon now.)

Breathing, sight, warmth—All of the basic feelings of being acutely alive suddenly rushed back into my body. That was how I felt.

Rei: (The picture I received from him; it’s gone!)

I had my Smartphone in hand. Looking at the time, I saw that it was the exact same as the time I had originally left the Study to pick up the call.

Rei: (Am I back to reality?)

Gripping onto the cool doorknob of the door, I nervously sucked in a deep breath before pushing it open…

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

Hinata: …Oh. Are you done with your call?

Rei: Shion-kun…

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

Miyase: Is everything okay with work?

Rei: Yes…

I smiled as I replied him, but I couldn’t help keeping my eyes trained on Kujo, Kaname, Kirishima, Shindo and Shion, intently watching their every move.

Kaname: …Big sis?

Shindo: Did you see my other self again?

Rei: No, you never did appear again.

Shindo: Hah…?

Kirishima: …Rei, sit here.

I took a seat beside Kirishima as he prompted me to. Atop the table laid an open Album with a familiar photograph.

Rei: This…

Hinata: Yup. This is the only photo that has her looking directly at the camera.

Kaname: This letter was together with it.

Opening it after Kaname passed it to me, I could see the words “As thanks” written in beautiful font.

Miyase: It seems like the owner of this Castle helped her out back when she lost her footing on the steps.

She had told Ayanokouji Hirokimi, “Please allow me to thank you”. To which he had responded with, “Then, allow me to have a picture of that lovable trickster cat of yours.”.

“If possible, I’d love to snap a picture together with it’s owner. I’m sure it’ll make for a nice happy picture”.

Rei: (So he did have a chance to talk to her properly…)

But even so, he never did convey the feelings he had for her even till the very end. And now, he was chained down within this Castle with only his loneliness as company.

--And if what I witnessed earlier wasn’t just a fleeting mid-summer’s dream…

Shindo: What an opportunity. Wouldn’t someone normally ask for something of a high price in return?

Shindo: So the owner of this Castle was someone cowardly in the face of someone he fancies?

That’s…certainly how it looks like. It was a logical conclusion, coming from someone who has never contacted said person before. However, having been moved by the strange string of incidents, I found myself wanting to ask him more about it…

Rei: …Shindo-san, if someone you fancy had already had a lover,

Rei: Would you still convey your feelings to her and not be a coward?

Shindo: What—

Rei: Oh…Sorry, I was just curious.

Shindo: ……

Shindo: --I actually might.

Rei: !

Shindo: (But, that’s only if there’s even a woman out there who’ll out-win my thirst for money.)

Miyase: You’re a passionate one, aren’t you?

Kujo: ――

Shindo: Kujo, wipe that look off your face right this instant.

Kujo: But this is the face I was born with.

Shindo: You know that’s not what I meant.

Kirishima: WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH HIS ABSOLUTELY COOL AND BEAUTIFUL FACE!?

Kaname: This conversation’s going to moot again.

Hinata: Yaawn…I think I’m starting to get sleepy.

Was it a dream? Or had it been real?

It certainly felt real, but everyone was acting as per normal, as if that strange time I had spent earlier never happened. As such, I returned back to having a peace of mind. --But the information of “Kiyo-san” was ingrained into my memory.

Rei: (I’ll search her up once we get back and find out as much as I can!)

Having put my foot down on that matter, I— Continued staring at the picture that enclosed a sad past for a little while longer.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

--A few days later.

⋆⋅☆ Investigation Division One ☆⋅⋆

Asagiri: And here you are, right on time.

Rei: I apologize for coming in when you’re so busy.

Asagiri: I’ve gathered the documents here, regarding what you had spoken to me about previously on the phone.

He handed me an A4-sized tea-coloured envelope. Within it, was the information pertaining to “Niikiyo”.

Asagiri: She’s the daughter of one of the Japan’s Four Great Financial Groups, so there was a relative lot of information that’s known to public saved in the database along with some of her private un-disclosed information.

Rei: I’m truly thankful for this.

Asagiri: …So?

Rei: What?

Asagiri: I’m asking about what you said in the phone call. Are you really going back to see the “ghost” you mentioned, to report all of this information to him?

Rei: Well, yes…I did promise him that I would.

Asagiri: …I know someone from the Department of Psychosomatic Medicine who’s pretty good at what he does. I could introduce you.

Rei: Ahaha…I suppose it’s normal for you to think that I’m hallucinating it all.

Asagiri: ……

Rei: But I think I want to try heading back to that Castle once more.

Rei: And put this to an end, once and for all.

Asagiri: ……

I smiled a little comically as I faced Asagiri in all his muteness.

Rei: If I ever end up seeing anything weird after that…Then I’ll take you up for your referral offer.

Asagiri: --I’ll accompany you.

Rei: Eh? To the Hospital?

Asagiri: To the Castle. I want to try meeting this ghost, or whatever it is, too.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Inside the Car ☆⋅⋆

--Weekend.

I was seated in the Passenger seat of the car that Asagiri was driving.

Rei: Sorry. I made you come with me even though it’s a weekend.

Asagiri: I’m the one who decided to come.

Rei: But…

Asagiri: ……

Rei: (It kind of feels harder to talk to him than usual with the atmosphere in here…)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Corridor ☆⋅⋆

We headed down to the Corridors outside the Study, having told the Staff that we had “forgotten something”.

Asagiri: …So where’s this ghost you speak of?

Rei: The last time we saw him, the Teacup fell off the table of it’s own accord.

Rei: And the books flew out of its shelves.

Asagiri: …Ghosts don’t exist.

Rei: (Asagiri-san…)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Old Castle: Study ☆⋅⋆

Reaching the Study, I slotted the envelope with Kiyo-san’s information into the Album.

Rei: --Alright. Let’s go back, Asagi—

Asagiri: You have my gratitude.

Rei: !?

Asagiri: I never thought that’d you’d actually search into it for me.

Saying as such, Asagiri (?) picked up the Album and touched the envelope.

Asagiri: ……

Rei: You’re Ayanokouji-san, aren’t you?

Asagiri: ――Back when I was alive…

Asagiri: ―I thought that I’d lose everything, once the spark of life snuffed out.

Asagiri: ― Affections. Loneliness. Happiness, sadness…--All of it.

Asagiri: But I was mistaken. Everything still resides within me, as vivid as ever.

Asagiri: Affections, loneliness, happiness, sadness…--Therefore,

Asagiri: I wish to stay by you.

Asagiri: I cannot stand being alone any longer.

Rei: A-Asagiri-san…?

Asagiri: If I’m unable to stay by you, then I’d much rather I--…

Asagiri: That’s what I thought, back when I was alive. That’s why I took my own life.

Asagiri: It seems like she had apparently lived out a happy life, thanks to my death.

Asagiri: I’m glad; I really am.

The second he smiled, however-

Rei: Ngh…

I found myself hit by an intense bout of dizziness and had to hold onto the bookshelf to steady myself.

Asagiri: Izumi-san? Is something the matter>

Rei: Ah…

Asagiri: Are you feeling lightheaded?

Rei: Are you…Are you Asagiri-san?

Asagiri: Huh? I am. Why?

Rei: Of course you are…Of course. You are Asagiri-san.

Asagiri: ……

Rei: Sorry. I think I’m a little sleep-deprived.

Asagiri: Did you see something?

Rei: What?

Asagiri: Was the ghost here? Please do tell me more, in detail, if you’re able to explain it.

Asagiri: How was this ghost able to talk to a living person like you?

Rei: Um…

Asagiri: What’s the difference between people who can become ghosts and people who cannot? Please help me ask that ghost, if he’s still here.

Rei: …Err, I think he’s not here anymore.

Asagiri: ――

Rei: Asagiri-san…?

Asagiri: …Sorry. What foolishness have I spouted— We’re leaving.

Rei: (Ah-)

I couldn’t help but to blurt out the one question that was on the tip of my tongue as I saw his retreating back.

Rei: Asaigiri-san! Why are you so sure that ghosts do not exist?

Rei: And if you believe that they don’t exist, then why did you come along with me today…?

Asagiri slowly turned back around.

No emotions showed on his face. --Or rather, he was intentionally putting on a poker-face, but if I had to describe it, there was a hint of denial to his expressionless-ness.

Asagiri: There is no such thing as ghosts.

Asagiri: …Because I know that there’s no way you can meet someone who has died again.

Rei: ――

Asagiri: Let’s go.

I thought as I followed his retreating back this time.

I’m sure that there’s someone he wants to meet again, even if they were a ghost. But meeting them again is impossible, despite how much he wishes for it. That’s why he’s so determined that ghosts do not exist.

Rei: (…I don’t want to leave him alone like that.)

I know that it was arrogant of me to think so. Perhaps it was even out of my place. --But even so,

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Rei: Um! If it’s not any trouble to you, would you allow me to treat you to something as thanks for accompanying me here today!?

He came to a halt as he voiced a reply without turning back.

Asagiri: …Do I get to choose what we’re going to be eating?

Rei: Of course!

A split second was all it took. I heard shoes clicking against the Corridor’s flooring. Asagiri was coming back.

Asagiri: …Then, can we go to the Italian place nearby where there’s all-you-can-eat pizza?

Rei: Let’s go! There was a place like that nearby?

Asagiri: I looked up the places near this place, since we were headed here anyway.

Asagiri: It’s a place where you won’t be wasting any time, for you’ll be able to eat whatever you like—and loads more of the good things.

Rei: That’s a brilliant mind-set you have there.

Asagiri: Rather than it being a mind-set, I’d say…

Asagiri: --That it’s because we’re alive and kicking today as well.

───⋅𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐸𝒩𝒟⋅☆

#Stand My Heroes #スタンドマイヒーローズ #スタマイ #Sutamai #Translations #Otome #挽夏のミステリーブライド #Late summer Mystery Bride #Asagiri Tsukasa #Shindo Kiyoshi #Kirishima Koya #Kujo Soma #Hinata Shion #Yamazaki Kaname #Miyase Go

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mittensmorgul · 5 years

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MoC anon again, hi! (also, eek, sorry about those two hours you lost) i think sam’s history with anger issues is actually kinda WHY he would handle it better, because he’s been practicing controlling it his whole life. (and i think he’s a lot better at it in s11 than he was in s5, ya know?) whereas, like you said, dean builds walls to keep the bad OUT, but he tends to act on emotion a lot more than sam, and his emotions are more explosive, and a lot less regulated. 1/2

(and while dean works very hard to hide his softer emotions, he’s never been particularly bothered with showing his anger.) i just can’t picture sam losing control the same way dean did. not saying that he wouldn’t lose control at all, of course, it’s gonna be messy either way, and obviously sam is not a paragon of mental health, but he has experience controlling the “darkness” inside him in a way dean never did 2/2

Hi there! and yeah, I’m doubly sorry now that my original post was eaten because I did cover this, as well. I think you and I read Sam and Dean very, very differently. I don’t think Sam HAS had a lot of practice controlling his anger, is the thing.

Yeah, Dean has exploded in frustration and anger, but so has Sam. Because Sam kind of runs on anger (or he did, especially in earlier seasons), it feels to me like adding the mark to that would’ve been throwing gasoline on a fire. And once we saw how Amara operates, we know she used the same sort of lure on Dean that Ruby had used on Sam. Similar to Lucifer whispering to him from the cage in early s11. Retroactively, I guess I’ve applied that same sort of enticement to how the Mark called out to Dean in s9 and s10.

Because it also didn’t come down to “control” in those moments where Dean “snapped” into murderousness. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with rage at all. He “woke up” from those acts (like the first time he held the first blade in 9.16, when he killed Abaddon in 9.21, when he killed the shapeshifter in 10.06, when he killed the group of men who’d literally had him at gunpoint and were trying to kill him in 10.10, for example), It was never framed as “Dean gives into the rage,” or “Dean fails to control his anger.” It was always framed as him being compltely taken over and basically controlled by an outside force. When Dean would fight his way back to the surface after those incidents, he was shaken and afraid by what he’d done.

Like Dean when he was struggling with Amara’s control of him in s11, we saw how insidious her influence was in his presence, but take that same capacity to influence someone and literally insert it directly into their brain. That’s the Mark. But when Dean confessed this to Sam in 11.13:

Dean: Honestly? You seriously think the sister of God is my deepest darkest desire?Sam: She isn’t?Dean: No! She can’t be!Sam: Why not?Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?Dean: For starters, yeahSam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not.Dean: You know that I want her ass deadSam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it?Dean: Standing here right now, every bone in my body wants to run her through. Send her back to that hole she crawled out of. But when I’m near her, I don’t know. Something happens and I can’t explain it, but to call it desire or love…it’s not that. I’m screwed man. We wanna kill the darkness. We need to kill the darkness. And I don’t think I can. I’m sorry to do that to you, ya know, but when it comes right down to it…

He’d still been working through this when he talked to Cas(ifer) about this in 11.11, but he was working his way to this exact point. It had very little to do with anger.

Sure, anger was effectively Amara’s baseline motivation for revenge against Chuck, and her tool to do that was effectively “destroy what Chuck created,” which is an effective way to act out anger, you know? But I think that anger would’ve found a far more fertile breeding ground in Sam than it did in Dean.

I mean, just think back over the last few years to the outbursts that look like anger on the surface for Dean, and honestly, they have ZERO to do with RAGE. They’re frustration, grief, defeat… like punching the sign in 13.01, like yelling about how he should’ve stayed behind in the AU if they had no way to get back there and save Mary and Jack in 13.18. The only time I felt like one of Dean’s outbursts could be described as “angry” rather than “frustrated” or “grieving” or “defeated” was in 13.03 when he yelled in Sam’s face about Cas. And there was still that well of grief there pushing him to that outburst.

Honestly, I think a fairer comparison to how they each would’ve dealt with the Mark isn’t tapping in to their emotions, but how well they compartmentalize in the face of possession. For example how long Dean casually managed to keep Michael locked in his brain fridge in s14. Michael only escaped because Dean was literally knocked unconscious. This notion that Dean lacks control of his own temper I think just seems far more pronounced in him because it’s so rare for him. It’s… not rare for Sam.

Like I said in the previous post, Sam’s rage was a major plot point for years. It fueled s4, it fueled s5, it fueled Sam’s half of the s9 and s10 story.

I think the main difference between Sam’s anger and Dean’s anger is that Sam’s tends to simmer cold, while Dean’s just boils over with heat on rare occasions, making them seem that much more out-of-character, or startling.

I don’t see it as Sam better able to control his rage than Dean, I see it as different ways of expressing said anger, because they are different people with different personalities, you know?

Sam’s just as capable of lashing out in anger as Dean, but it tends to look different when it happens. Dean just lets himself have his little outbursts before he gets to the point where he breaks from it. Sam… when Sam bursts like that, it feels more shocking, because he typically expresses his anger differently. Like when Sam punched Dean in 14.12, for example, people were SHOCKED. I read so many “wow that was out of character” posts I was honestly baffled by the fandom’s reaction to this. Because that punch was pure frustration and grief, and it’s just about the most emotion Sam’s let himself express in a long time.

I know I keep defaulting to talking about s4 and s5 here, but I’m watching 5.02 in the background while I’m typing this, so these seasons are what’s currently freshest in my mind right now.

The wraith in 5.10:

SAM: You did this to me!WRAITH: Well, I helped. But that rage? No, no, no. That’s all you. (stands, walks to the side of the bed) I don’t make crazy. I just crank up what’s already there.

The show has always, always paralleled Sam’s rage with Dean’s fear. The thing is, how they each express these underlying feelings. So, no, I really, really don’t think Sam would be better at controlling that rage under the effect of the Mark than Dean was.

and this entire post is just undercaffeinated rambling at this point, so I really don’t know what more I can say without going incident by incident through the entire series documenting the vastly different nature of Sam and Dean’s anger, and their respective outbursts. Their anger just… manifests differently, because again, they are different people with differing personalities. Sam’s anger tends to come out “cold,” and Dean’s tends to boil over more loudly. And Amara/the Mark was nothing if not cold and patient rage, you know?

Sam has traditionally gotten angry and run away, as if isolating himself from the problem could fix things. In the past, he would’ve sooner walled off the vast majority of his life to pretend at being normal that he would face it. I don’t know if I’d classify that as “having more control” of his anger. He’s just got different outlets in general than Dean does. Dean just yells, gets it out of his system, and then moves on. Sam… can’t seem to do that. Or at least he hadn’t been able to do that for the vast majority of canon.

Someone wrote an excellent piece years ago about Sam’s Rage vs Dean’s Fear, and I guess it’s stuck with me. But when a character’s primary motivation, his primary driving force through years of character development is a baseline simmering rage, I have a REALLY hard time feeling like he would’ve had more “control” over a possessing entity that literally fed on that sort of feeling.

Amara found BALANCE through her relationship with Dean. I don’t think she could’ve found that with Sam. I think that entire storyline only worked because it was Dean, and not Sam. Because Dean recognized this as something being done TO him, rather than just a manifestation of himself. (Yes, at first he thought it was a curse, and that it was his own inner “monstrousness” coming out, but it ALWAYS felt foreign to him, something he couldn’t truly identify or relate to, because it was literally not his own. And Sam would’ve had a lot more difficulty making that distinction, I think.)

As I’ve typed this up, I do realize that viewers see different things in each of these characters. We identify with them differently, based on our own experiences, and since I mostly identify with and feel like I understand Dean better than Sam, I think I’m probably looking at this from a different angle than you are. I, for example, see Sam REPEATEDLY losing his shit to his rage throughout the entire series. He gives in to it far more readily than Dean has over the years, but it tends to be less “explosive” as you said. But it motivates his entire character in ways it never, ever has for Dean. And I think Amara/the Mark would’ve eaten him alive because of it. Because she was the Mark, and she was motivated by the same cold, simmering rage.

#sam sympathizes and dean empathizes #Anonymous

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aidanchaser · 4 years

Text

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince: Everyone Lives AU

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero and @magic713m

Chapter Seven The Slug Club

Harry was burning up inside, but he didn’t know who to talk to about it. He knew, with absolute certainty, that Draco had been up to no good at Knockturn Alley, and he also knew he could not talk to anyone about it.

Harry’s parents worried about him constantly and he could not imagine a worse way to break their trust than by slipping away under the Invisibility Cloak to Knockturn Alley.

Actually, he could imagine one thing. He could have run off to face Voldemort alone without telling anyone. He imagined that would be worse than sneaking off to stalk Draco Malfoy, but probably not much.

James and Lily didn’t even know that Harry had run into Draco at all. Sirius had said nothing of the incident in Madam Malkin’s — Harry figured it was to spare himself the embarrassment of recounting an encounter with Narcissa, but he wasn’t sure. They hadn’t talked about it.

The Potters hadn’t talked about much that had happened in Diagon Alley, actually.

Hagrid had been assigned as their additional security, and it was he and Sirius who had taken Harry to get school supplies with his friends while James and Lily had gone shopping for James’s eye. Harry was glad for an opportunity to spend time with his friends, and glad they didn’t expect him to join him while they found a replacement eye for James. Harry was not sure he could have handled that guilt.

So James and Lily did not talk about their shopping trip, and Harry did not talk about his. The best they could do was discuss some of the exciting products they’d seen at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. James and Sirius had insisted to Fred and George that a “Marauders” line could be worked in, and Fred and George said they would be happy to receive potential product from those who had, in a way, been their muses.

But that brief moment was one bright spot on an overall very bleak summer.

Remus had left as soon as he was well enough to Apparate. He hadn’t gone with them to Diagon Alley, which, while not strange, was disappointing. Harry wondered if he would come back at the end of the month for the next full moon. It would be nice to have Remus there to see him off to Hogwarts, as he had every year before, full moon permitting.

Harry found himself wishing he could confide his concerns about Draco in Remus, more than anyone else in his family. James and Lily would worry, as they always did, as they had to as his parents, and scold him for running off. Sirius might be safe to tell, but Sirius tended to overreact, and might tell James and Lily. But Remus would let Harry talk, keep a level head, and ask the right questions to help Harry truly understand what he, Ron, Neville, and Hermione had seen.

The cloak hadn’t totally covered all four of them — it fell to their knees — but Harry was fairly confident they hadn’t been seen. Knockturn Alley had enough nooks and crannies to duck into to avoid being caught. Unfortunately, though they hadn’t been seen, they hadn’t seen very much themselves, as Hermione had been very quick to point out.

“Anyone can purchase from Borgin and Burke’s without making it about You-Know-Who,” she’d said.

Harry had wanted to argue that yes, anyone could, but anyone who was purchasing from Burke was highly suspicious by default, but that was when James and Lily had approached to ask if he was ready to leave, and he hadn’t been able to finish his conversation with his friends.

He was disappointed about that on a second count as well: he’d hoped he could tell them the prophecy. The more Harry thought about it, the more he knew he needed to share his secret with Ron, Hermione, and Neville. Diagon Alley just hadn’t provided him with a good opportunity. He hoped the Hogwarts Express might work better.

The morning of September first arrived much sooner than Harry had expected. He was at once eager to get back to school with his friends and nervous to leave his parents. He’d enjoyed being home with them, all guilt and secrets aside, and he worried what trouble they would get into when he and Neville weren’t at home.

Harry, while packing up his things, recalled a lengthy letter his father had sent him during his second year. James had described the struggle of being in hiding, unable to help, but doing it because they knew it was what they needed to do to keep Harry safe. Harry felt like going to Hogwarts was like going into hiding, disappearing into Dumbledore’s protection. He imagined the irony of asking his mum to write every day, and told himself he couldn’t worry about his parents. Worrying wasn’t actually helpful.

Getting to King’s Cross Station was more work than it ever had been before. Harry remembered the year Regulus Black had first escaped Azkaban, when his family had stayed at the Leaky Cauldron to be escorted from there. This time, the Potters — and Sirius and Neville — simply Floo’ed straight to the Leaky Cauldron on September first, and were met by the Longbottoms and two Aurors.

“Cedric!” Harry said in surprise.

“Williamson,” James said, and shook the other Auror’s hand.

Williamson wore a nicely tailored red velvet suit, and had long white hair tied back in a ponytail. He shook James and Lily’s hands with equally strong grips. “Mr. and Mrs. Potter. A pleasure.” He did not sound especially pleased. “Did you have a smooth trip?” he asked, and quirked a thick white eyebrow.

“Smooth as a puffskein’s fluff,” Lily answered.

Harry wondered for a moment if his mother had mixed up a Muggle phrase with a wizard phrase, but Williamson nodded once, and they were off. It hadn’t been a silly phrase — it had been a code.

Once outside, they ran into Frank and Alice Longbottom, who were similarly given a question and responded with a slightly odd answer.

“Weather holding?” Williamson asked.

“Tight as a grindylow’s grip,” Frank had answered, then hugged Neville tightly.

Alice kissed his forehead and led him to a black car with tinted windows. “We’ll head to King’s Cross in style,” she said, and together, all nine of them climbed inside the magically expanded Muggle automobile.

“Alright?” Cedric asked as he slipped into the seat beside Harry. “Haven’t heard from you.”

“Alright,” Harry said. “Been busy. Sirius has been teaching me Healers’ stuff.”

Cedric looked impressed.

“What about you?” Harry asked. “I thought you don’t get dangerous missions while training.”

“I get the public missions,” Cedric said, “and escorting Harry Potter to King’s Cross is very public. It’s a good thing these windows are tinted, or we might end up on the front page of The Daily Prophet as the Ministry’s gold star partners. We’ll have to be careful when we get to the station.”

King’s Cross was as crowded as ever, and Harry could see Aurors walking across the station, some in robes, some in Muggle plain clothes. He recognized a few, like the Prewett brothers, and a woman in an eye-patch that he’d met just before his trial last year — Marcy, maybe?

“I wore it better,” James grunted as they swept past her and towards the back of the train, where Harry could see Ron and Hermione waving to him.

James had purchased a monocle in Diagon Alley, since glasses over a glass eye was arguably redundant, but he didn’t wear it much. He still preferred his glasses, which ultimately helped to hide the fact that one of his eyes no longer moved with the other. The color in each eye, at least, was identical, thanks to Sirius’s excellent transfiguration work. At a passing glance, James looked no different. It was only if Harry tried to hold his father’s gaze for too long that his stomach turned with guilt.

“No sign of Tonks,” Sirius said, glancing around.

“She’s on another assignment,” Cedric said. Despite his warning about The Daily Prophet, he’d stayed with the Potters, while Williamson melted into the crowd, keeping the platform safe alongside the other Aurors.

Lily kissed Harry’s cheek. “You’ll be safe.”

Harry wondered if she was trying to reassure him or herself.

“You too, Mum.” Harry hugged her. It wasn’t their first hug since he’d found out about the prophecy, but it was the first hug that Harry truly meant, in all its length and tightness. He did not want to let his mother go. She squeezed back, harder than she had all summer, and Harry felt some of the weight in his chest lighten. At least she wasn’t still suffering the effects of Bellatrix’s fiery curse, if she could give and receive such rib-crushing embraces.

Harry blinked back tears, determined not to cry in front of all these people, in front of his friends, in front of Cedric. Now, on the brink of saying goodbye to his parents for four months, all of his bitterness and guilt felt ridiculous and childish. There were so many bigger things to worry about.

When he and Lily finally separated, James clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll see you for Quidditch, yeah? Wouldn’t miss your first game as Captain for the world.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. End of November.”

He recounted. Three months. In three months he would see his parents, and he would know they were safe once again.

“You’ll kick Slytherin’s ass,” Sirius said.

Harry forced himself to grin, and started to ask if Remus would be there, but he cut the question off before it reached his tongue. Remus hadn’t come home for the full moon this past week. He’d said he was spending it with other werewolves. They’d all hoped it was true, and if it was, Harry wasn’t sure Quidditch games would be an option for Remus this year.

“Maybe I’ll get stationed at Hogwarts that day,” Cedric said. “Be nice to catch a Quidditch match again.”

“That’d be great,” Harry said.

The train whistle blew. Harry gave another round of hasty hugs, as did Neville, and they hurried to the back of the train.

Their reunion with Ron and Hermione was full of hugs, but unfortunately brief. Harry was just about to ask if they could find a private car — he was slowly working up the courage to tell them the prophecy — when Hermione apologized, but she and Ron had to go to the prefect’s meeting.

“Oh,” Harry said. “Alright.”

“We won’t be too long,” Ron said. “Long as the new Head Boy and Girl don’t drawl on half as long as what’s-his-name did.”

“His name was Troy,” Hermione snapped. “We just saw him a few months ago — how could you already forget it?”

Ron shrugged, and his snappy response was lost as he and Hermione disappeared down the carriage.

Neville looked at Harry, as if Harry was the one who was going to find them an empty carriage. Well, he’d certainly do his best.

Harry slipped past a trio of girls who seemed to be gaping like they’d caught Viktor Krum in a locker room, and it wasn’t until Harry moved past them and they turned that he realized they were gaping at him. Harry took a moment to register that they were unreasonably short and hurried along with Neville.

They bumped into another girl, eyes just as wide as the ones they had passed, but hers were far more dreamy.

“Luna,” Harry said, surprised by the relief in his voice.

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled. “Hi, Neville.”

Harry glanced over her shoulder, but she seemed to be alone. “Ginny’s not with you?” and he was again surprised by the disappointment as he said it.

“Haven’t seen her,” Luna said. “I expect she’s gone off to find Dean Thomas, though.”

“Right.” Dean Thomas. Her boyfriend. Of course. That was alright, Harry told himself. He hadn’t exactly planned on sharing the prophecy with Ginny anyway, and he really hadn’t considered telling Luna, even if the two of them had gone with him to the Department of Mysteries.

“Well, how are you, Luna?” Harry asked, and started checking for empty compartments as they walked. He did his best to avoid eye contact with everyone in the corridors. He felt like a basilisk, petrifying everyone into stillness if he looked at them too long. He ignored the heat rushing to his cheeks and focused on Luna’s answer.

“Very well, thank you.” She followed closely on his heels, and the way people looked away as she stared at them made Harry not mind how close she was.

Finally, Harry opened the door to an empty compartment, and he ushered Luna and Neville inside.

“Blimey, Harry,” Neville said as he closed the door behind them. “They’re all staring at us because we’re with you.”

“You were both at the Ministry, too,” Harry said. “We were all in the Prophet.”

Neville scrunched up his nose and took Trevor out of his pocket. “I suppose, but I don’t think that’s why people are staring at —”

Whatever Neville was going to explain was lost as Trevor leaped from his hand and onto the floor.

Luna lifted her feet so Neville could scramble for Trevor, and put a pair of bright pink whimsical glasses on her face. Her grey eyes vanished behind iridescent lenses.

“Will we continue the D.A. this year?” she asked, in a tone that suggested their secret, rule-breaking, anti-Ministry organization was as casual as getting together for tea once a week.

Harry shrugged. “No point now that we’ve got rid of Umbridge, is there?” He wondered what sort of a teacher Slughorn would be like. He thought of how the man appreciated his comforts and wondered if he wouldn’t be any better than Umbridge. No, because Lily at least had liked him, on some level, so he couldn’t be as bad as Umbridge. He certainly couldn’t give out detentions that carved bloody words into the back of your hand.

“I liked the D.A.,” Neville said from beneath the train seat, still digging around for Trevor.

“I liked the D.A., too,” Luna said, though her eyes were on the copy of the Quibbler in her hands. “It was like having friends.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he should comfort Luna for such a pitiful statement, or laugh because it was a little bit funny. Before he could decide if he needed to reassure her or tease her, a high-pitched giggle that was definitely not Hermione or Ginny came from the other side of the compartment door.

“No you ask him,” a girl’s voice said.

“No you,” said another.

Harry ran through the list of girls he knew and drew a blank. He could not tell who was on the other side of the door, not until one of the girls shouldered it open.

She had long, dark curls that framed her face attractively, and a strong jaw that reminded Harry a bit of Cedric’s. Her lips were fuller, though, and her nose smaller, and her smile far more ambitious.

“Hi, Harry.” She spoke loudly, and her full lips pulled back into a wide smile. “I’m Romilda, Romilda Vane. Why don’t you join us in our compartment? You don’t have to sit with —” She put her hand to her mouth to hide it from Luna and mouthed, “them.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, all his initial assumption that she was attractive burned out in just seven words. Neville was halfway under a seat, and Luna looked like a Muggle Christmas tree and been turned inside out and then flipped right way around again, but this was exactly where Harry wanted to be.

“They’re my friends,” he said, perhaps more coldly than he’d meant to.

Romilda Vane blinked. “Oh. Okay.” And she and her giggling friends left.

“People expect you to have cooler friends than us,” said Luna.

“You are cool,” Harry said, with no hesitation in addressing Luna’s unusual statement this time. He knew it was sulky, but he folded his arms and sank into his seat. He kept his back to the window into the corridor, hoping people might not notice him. “They didn’t come to the Ministry and fight off a dozen Death Eaters with me.”

Neville extricated Trevor from a dust bunny and sat back on the seat. “We didn’t face him though. You did.”

Harry was not keen on remembering his fight with Voldemort. He had a feeling that, now that he knew the prophecy, the next time he faced the Dark Lord would be his last — whether it was his end, or Voldemort’s. It was a silly feeling. He was the Boy Who Lived, who had faced Voldemort not just as an infant, but several times since. None of them had been pleasant encounters, but Harry had survived each one. Who was to say when his and Voldemort’s last encounter would be?

But somewhere in his gut he knew he didn’t have many chances left.

He considered telling Luna and Neville the prophecy right there, just blurting it out in the carriage. But Luna was brutally honest, and Harry wasn’t sure he could take that response just now. And she might repeat it to someone else. At least it was unlikely they’d take her seriously.

“Harry’s the Chosen One, you know,” she might say to another girl in Ravenclaw, or whoever it was Luna was friends with when she wasn’t with the D.A.

And the other girl might reply, “Sure, Luna, whatever you say,” and go on with her day as if Luna had merely told her that onions sprouting from the ears was a sure sign of rain approaching.

Still, Harry bit his tongue. He would wait until at least Hermione and Ron were here. He wondered if he told Luna, should he tell Ginny? But she was with Dean, and it wouldn’t be fair to put her in that kind of a spot, to have a secret from Dean because Harry had asked…

Harry didn’t let himself finish that thought. Instead, he told himself that if Luna and Ginny were included in the small circle of people who knew the prophecy, it would be because they had gone to the Ministry with him, which meant that Pearl Lais also ought to be included, wherever she was, and at that point, Harry decided he would just share it with Ron, Hermione, and Neville. Ron and Hermione were his best friends, and Neville was slowly becoming one.

“Alright, Harry?” Neville asked.

“What?”

“You disappeared for a moment. My dad does that sometimes — everything okay?”

Harry shook his head. “Sorry. Yeah, lost in thought, I guess.”

“Wrackspurts,” said Luna, a sympathy in her voice, like Harry had said he’d sprouted a large pimple instead of wondering in his own head.

“What?” Harry said, again.

“A Wrackspurt — they’re invisible. They float in through your ears and make your brain go all fuzzy. I thought I felt one zooming around in here.”

Harry and Neville each raised an eyebrow as Luna waved her hand in front of her face and about her ears like she was trying to swat a small bird out of the air, sort of like Crookshanks or Puck might.

Finally, around midday, Hermione and Ron arrived at their carriage. Ron immediately sank into the seat across from Harry and said, “I’m starving. Wish the trolley lady would hurry up.”

Hermione gave Ron a brief glance, full of distaste, then smiled at Harry and Neville. “Did you have a good rest of the summer?”

“It was very quiet,” said Neville, with a sideways glance at Harry. Neville had missed the noisiest part of summer: Sirius and Remus’s very loud fight when Remus left, but Harry had told him about it. It had been hard not to. Sirius had been in a foul mood for nearly two weeks. It didn’t clear up until Tonks visited for dinner, and she had finally been the one to talk him out of it.

“More or less,” Harry agreed. He might feel comfortable sharing the situation about Remus and Tonks with Ron and Hermione, but not with Luna. Remus’s furry little problem had become public knowledge just two years ago, thanks to Snape, but that didn’t mean it was discussed with people outside the family. He couldn’t talk about things happening at home any more than he could talk about the prophecy. Harry wasn’t sure what to say.

Thankfully, he was spared by Ron.

“Our summer wasn’t quiet — Mum was a nightmare with Fleur around. Can’t understand why. She’s so annoyed with their wedding plans.”

“She just thinks they’ve rushed things, is all,” said Hermione.

“They’ve been dating a year — they met at the Triwizard Tournament. That’s plenty of time.”

“To marry someone?” Hermione looked scandalized.

Ron rolled his eyes. “It was nice to get out to Diagon Alley and see you guys. Oh — speaking of Malfoy, guess who’s not doing prefect duty?”

Harry sat up straight and stared at Ron. “What’s he doing?”

Ron shrugged. “Nothing. Just sitting with the Slytherins. Not like him, is it? He loves to be out there bullying first years with his shiny prefect badge.”

“Maybe he’s gotten nicer,” said Neville. “Maybe now that his dad’s in jail, he and his mum are better.”

But Neville had been in Madam Malkin’s with them. Neville knew Malfoy hadn’t changed. And Harry thought that if his father had been taken to Azkaban, he wouldn’t be feeling too kind to the people who put him there.

“What do you think he’s doing?” Harry asked.

Hermione refused to indulge the suspicion in Harry’s voice. “Slacking off,” she said. “Not everything Malfoy does is nefarious. Maybe Prefect feels like a step down from Inquisitorial Squad.”

“Maybe he’s bragging to his friends about his new friend Greyback,” Harry said. That part of the conversation they’d overheard still irked him. He’d turned that name over and over, wondering why it was familiar. Finally, he’d asked James about it a week later and James had nearly dropped the bundle of linens he’d been carrying downstairs to wash.

“Where’d you hear about him?” James had asked.

“Er — someone mentioned him when we were in Diagon Alley. I just overheard it.”

James had glanced around the hall nervously, but Harry didn’t know who he was checking for, or why Greyback was some sort of secret.

“He’s not a good person, Harry. He — he’s a werewolf, and not a safe one.”

“You mean not like Remus?”

“He’s the werewolf who bit Remus.”

Harry had needed time to process that information. Though it added color to Malfoy’s conversation, he hadn’t written about it to Ron or Hermione. He had found himself unable to put to paper the tragedy that had made Remus Lupin, especially in the middle of this particular summer, when Remus’s condition was such a central part of the family’s collective worries.

“Did you find out who Greyback is?” Hermione asked keenly.

“Works with Voldemort,” Harry said, casually as he could, and ignored Neville’s shiver. “So if we needed any more proof that Malfoy —”

Harry stopped suddenly, remember what Malfoy had been doing when he had brought up Greyback. He had rolled up the sleeves of his robes and shown Borgin something on his arm, then threatened Borgin with Greyback. Greyback, the werewolf, who had been brought into the Death Eaters’ fold as one of their many tools of blackmail, and something on Malfoy’s right arm.

“He’s a Death Eater,” Harry said. “Malfoy’s a Death Eater, and he was showing Borgin his Dark Mark.”

Harry saw the protest on Hermione’s face before her mouth even opened. “Harry, he wouldn’t —”

“His dad was a Death Eater, and he’s just replaced him! Why else would he show Borgin his arm? What else would make Borgin listen to Malfoy like that?”

Ron shook his head. “Malfoy’s sixteen, mate, same as us. What would You-Know-Who be thinking, bringing Malfoy into something like that?”

But they hadn’t fought Voldemort. Harry didn’t think Voldemort would consider Malfoy’s age a deterrent.

“If he was, wouldn’t he be going off on dark missions?” asked Neville. “But he’s here on the train, going to school, same as us.”

“Unless his mission is at Hogwarts,” said Harry.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look that said, “He’s clearly gone mad, but how do we tell him gently?”

“It makes sense,” Harry insisted.

“I think Harry’s right,” said Luna, as absently as ever. “You-Know-Who must be after the mounds of glowing garox gold buried beneath Hogwarts. The founders hid it when they built the school.”

Hermione’s raised eyebrow told Harry that it wasn’t wise to be in the same camp as Luna Lovegood. It only deterred Harry a little bit.

“I don’t think Voldemort is after gold, but I bet Malfoy —”

The door opened, and for some reason, Harry felt disappointment when he saw the young girl in the doorway. He didn’t know who he had expected, but he’d hoped it would be someone else. Someone he knew.

The small girl, no older than twelve, certainly seemed to have expected him. “Harry P-Potter? And Neville Longbottom?” she asked.

“Yeah?” Harry tried not to be annoyed with her. It wasn’t her fault his face was plastered all over The Daily Prophet each week. She couldn’t help the flush in her cheeks.

She held out two scrolls, tied with purple ribbons that looked like velvet. Harry thought the velvet should have been a giveaway, like it was familiar in a way he should understand, but he couldn’t. He accepted one of the scrolls.

Neville, face wide with bewilderment, took the scroll from her.

Ron, impatiently, demanded, “What is it?” as Harry unfurled it. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to read.

“An invitation,” Harry said.

Harry, I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C. Sincerely, Professor H. E. F. Slughorn

“To what?” asked Ron.

“From whom?” asked Hermione.

“Professor Slughorn,” Harry said. “I mentioned him, right?”

Hermione nodded. Ron frowned.

“What do you think he wants with us?” asked Neville.

“I guess lunch,” Harry said, though he remembered Dumbledore’s warning about collecting students. But if Neville had been invited, why not Ron and Hermione? Was it just because he was a Longbottom?

Harry grabbed his bag and, as was beginning to be a habit, checked for his Invisibility Cloak. He’d carried it with him whenever he and his father went into the garden. He’d carried it with him when they went to Diagon Alley. And still, on the Hogwarts Express, he planned to carry it with him. Dumbledore had said to keep it on him at all times, so he did. Harry wondered if he could even put it to some good use.

“Let’s see if we can spy on Malfoy as we pass his compartment,” Harry said as he and Neville left, but that plan was useless. The corridor was too crowded. It was one thing to slip down Knockturn Alley, where people slunk around the edges and avoiding bumping into anyone was fairly easy. It was another to try to navigate the packed hallway of the Hogwarts Express.

As he and Neville headed for compartment C, Harry found himself wishing he could use his Invisibility Cloak for a second reason: to avoid everyone’s stares.

It wasn’t just girls whispering and giggling, and it wasn’t just first and second years gaping. The latter, Harry was fairly used to. Colin and Dennis Creevey had made sure Harry was familiar with that. This year, everyone stared. The first and second years, the third and fourth years, even the seventh years and the sixth years, who had known Harry all this time, stared. Harry didn’t need to know what they were thinking. The question was on each of their faces: “Is he the Chosen One to defeat Voldemort?”

Harry was grateful when they finally arrived at compartment Compartment C. At least Slughorn’s fawning would be different than everyone’s gaping stares. Unfortunately, the gaping stares weren’t over.

“Harry, m’boy!” Slughorn said as Harry opened the door. The large man stood, nearly filling the corridor, and shook Harry’s hand.

Behind him were several other students, and each one’s eyes widened in surprise as Harry stepped into the compartment — all except one.

Ginny Weasley was squashed into the corner, and she smiled at Harry and Neville.

As Harry shook Slughorn’s hand and looked around the compartment, he saw a couple other familiar faces: Blaise Zabini from Slytherin, who was in Harry’s year, though Harry was not sure they had ever exchanged a word, and Cormac McLaggen, a seventh-year Gryffindor who Harry knew only by reputation.

The third was a seventh-year Harry had never met, who Slughorn introduced as “Marcus Belby, I don’t know if you’ve ever — no? — well, at least this charming lady tells me she knows you,” and he gestured to Ginny.

Harry and Neville took the only two seats available and Slughorn settled into his own seat, piled with additional velvet cushions. Those, coupled with his velvet robes, made him look like he was the same sofa he had transformed himself into the night Harry had met him.

“Well, now, this is most pleasant,” Slughorn said as he put a napkin over his lap. “A chance to get to know you all better. Here, take a napkin. I’ve packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on the licorice wands, and a poor old man’s digestive system isn’t quite up to such things…. Pheasant, Belby?”

Slughorn chatted with each of them in turn, and Harry quickly discovered how Slughorn went about “collecting” his students. Slughorn pressed Belby about a famous uncle who had invented the Wolfsbane Potion, and when Belby admitted he hardly spoke to his uncle, Slughorn moved onto McLaggen. McLaggen, whose uncle was well-known in Ministry circles that included the new Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, and who McLaggen was very close with, was doted on by Slughorn for the rest of the lunch. Zabini had been brought in because he had a wealthy mother who moved through pureblood society and had been widowed more times than anyone ought to be. Neville was interrogated about his parents’ work with the Ministry and their connections with Scrimgeour.

The more Slughorn interrogated each student, the more Harry wondered why Ginny was here. Harry loved the Weasleys, but they didn’t have any Ministry connections or claims to the sort of greatness that Slughorn admired.

“And now,” Slughorn’s voice trilled with excitement, and his thick mustache quivered with his breath, “Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer! ‘The Chosen One,’ they’re calling you now!”

Harry smiled awkwardly and recalled his conversation with Dumbledore. Dumbledore had warned him that Slughorn would try to collect him, to influence him. Dumbledore had not given him any advice on how to avoid Slughorn.

“Of course,” Slughorn continued, “there have been rumors for years. . . . I remember when — well — after that terrible night — Lily — James — and you survived — and the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary —”

Zabini cleared his throat, poorly masking a derisive snort.

“Yeah, Zabini,” Ginny snapped suddenly, though she’d been quiet for the entire lunch, “because you’re so talented — at posing.”

“Oh dear!” Slughorn laughed as if Ginny had only been poking fun. Harry understood very quickly what James and Sirius had meant when they’d said Slughorn was very easy to have fun with.

“You want to be careful, Blaise!” Slughorn continued. “I saw this young lady perform the most marvelous Bat-Bogey Hex as I was passing her carriage! I wouldn’t cross her!”

Harry smiled at Ginny, hoping she understood he was both grateful and impressed.

“Anyway,” Slughorn turned back to Harry, “such rumors this summer. Of course, one doesn’t know what to believe, the Prophet has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes — but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses, that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!”

Harry could not see any sense in denying that he had been there. It was all over the Prophet, so he merely shrugged.

Slughorn’s smile was wider than his mustache. “So modest, so modest, no wonder Dumbledore is so fond — you were there, then? But the rest of the stories — so sensational, of course, one doesn’t know quite what to believe — this fabled prophecy, for instance —”

“We never heard a prophecy,” Neville interrupted.

“That’s right,” Ginny said. “Neville and I were both there too, and all this ‘Chosen One’ rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual.”

“You were both there too, were you?” Slughorn looked between Ginny and Neville, waiting for them to share more details, but they did not. Harry was more grateful than ever for his friends, and reconsidered his plan to keep the prophecy from Ginny.

Slughorn’s excitement faltered when neither Ginny nor Neville volunteered more information about the fight at the Ministry. “Yes, well,” he dabbed the pheasant grease out of his mustache with his napkin, “it is true that the Prophet often exaggerates, of course. I remember dear Gwenog telling me — Gwenog Jones, I mean, of course, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies —”

Slughorn continued sharing stories of his past students, all who went on to fame or positions of power. They’d been members of what Slughorn called, “The Slug Club.”

Harry had not known there was someone who could talk more than Hermione, and at least when Hermione talked it was about something that wasn’t herself. Slughorn occasionally asked the students questions, but none of it was information Harry wanted to volunteer. Giving up information about himself made Harry feel like he was handing over strings of web to a spider, and giving Slughorn pieces to tug on. He hated every minute of it, and understood another reason his parents had been so determined to keep the prophecy secret.

Harry searched desperately for some polite way to extricate himself from the extended lunch, but the opportunity never seemed to arise. It wasn’t until the sunlight streamed red into the cabin, hardly a sliver on the horizon, that Slughorn seemed to realize the late hour.

“Good gracious, it’s getting dark already! I didn’t notice that they’d lit the lamps! You’d better go and change into your robes, all of you. McLaggen, you must drop by and borrow that book on nogtails. Harry, Blaise — any time you’re passing. Same goes for you, miss,” he smiled widely at Ginny. “Well, off you go, off you go!”

Zabini pushed past Harry, Ginny, and Neville to be the first down the corridor. Ginny, Neville and Harry weren’t far behind him. McLaggen and Belby seemed content to linger, which told Harry all he needed to know about the two of them.

“I’m glad that’s over,” Neville mumbled as they followed after Zabini. “Strange man, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is a bit.” Harry felt as distant as Luna as he watched Zabini stalk down the hall. A part of a plan was forming in his mind, just the pieces of one. “How come you ended up in there, Ginny?”

“He saw me hex Zacharias Smith,” she said. “You remember that idiot from Hufflepuff who was in the D.A.? He kept on and on asking about what happened at the Ministry and in the end he annoyed me so much I hexed him — when Slughorn came in I thought I was going to get detention, but he just thought it was a really good hex and invited me to lunch! Mad, eh?”

“Better reason for inviting someone than because their mother’s famous,” Harry said, though he wondered how much of his parents’ fame influenced his invitation, “or because their uncle —” Harry stopped as the half-formed planned reached its conclusion. He knew what he had to do.

“I’ll see you two later.” Harry yanked his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag and threw it over his head.

“But what’re you — ?” Neville asked.

“Later!” Harry hissed, and hurried after Zabini. The train rattling down the tracks masked Harry’s footsteps, and most students had found compartments to change into their robes before arriving at Hogwarts. Harry’s approach was unimpeded, but there was no way he could slip into the compartment behind Zabini so easily.

Zabini slid the door open and closed it as soon as he had stepped through, slamming it into Harry’s foot. Harry bit down a yelp as Zabini smashed the door into his foot again.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Zabini asked irritably.

Harry shoved the door open. The force of it threw Zabini into Goyle’s lap. As Zabini went tumbling, Harry slipped into the compartment, stepped onto an empty seat, and pulled himself up onto the luggage rack. Harry worried that his trainers may have slipped out from the cloak when he slid up, but Goyle and Zabini made such a commotion he thought he was safe. Still, he didn’t like the way Malfoy’s eyes stared up at the luggage rack from his half-lying half-sitting position. Even as Goyle slammed the door shut, Zabini slunk into his own seat, and Malfoy settled his head back onto Pansy Parkinson’s lap, Malfoy’s eyes lingered on the exact spot Harry was hiding.

Harry pulled the edges of the cloak tighter, though he was sure he was completely hidden.

Without taking his eyes off of Harry’s hiding spot, Malfoy asked, “So, Zabini,” said Malfoy, “what did Slughorn want?”

“Just trying to make up to well-connected people.” Zabini, too, did not look at Malfoy as he answered. Instead he was still glaring at Goyle, as if the door fiasco was Goyle’s fault. “Not that he managed to find many.”

Malfoy frowned up at the ceiling. “Who else had he invited?”

“McLaggen from Gryffindor,” said Zabini.

Malfoy’s frown turned to a slightly impressed sneer. “Oh yeah, his uncle’s big in the Ministry,”

“— someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw —”

Pansy paused her reverent stroking of Malfoy’s hair. “Not him, he’s a prat!”

“— and Longbottom, Potter, and that Weasley girl,” finished Zabini.

Malfoy sat up and half-snarled. “He invited Longbottom?”

“Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there.” Zabini turned to look out the window, making his disinterest in Neville plain.

“What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?”

Zabini shrugged. “His parents are famous Aurors.”

“Potter, precious Potter, obviously he wanted a look at ‘the Chosen One,’” Malfoy growled, “but that Weasley girl! What’s so special about her?”

“A lot of boys like her,” Pansy said. Her eyes were on Malfoy, and her hand still hovered in the air, waiting for him to return to her lap. “Even you think she’s good-looking, don’t you, Blaise, and we all know how hard you are to please!”

“I wouldn’t touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like,” Zabini snapped.

Pansy smiled and Malfoy lowered himself back into her lap. She resumed running her fingers through his hair, as if he were a cat on her lap.

“Well, I pity Slughorn’s taste,” Malfoy said. “Maybe he’s going a bit senile. Shame, my father always said he was a good wizard in his day. My father used to be a bit of a favorite of his. Slughorn probably hasn’t heard I’m on the train, or —”

“I wouldn’t bank on an invitation,” said Zabini. “He asked me about Nott’s father when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when he heard he’d been caught at the Ministry he didn’t look happy, and Nott didn’t get an invitation, did he? I don’t think Slughorn’s interested in Death Eaters.”

Malfoy’s normally pale face was flushed with anger, but he forced a laugh out anyway. “Well, who cares what he’s interested in? What is he, when you come down to it? Just some stupid teacher.” As if to emphasize how little he cared, Malfoy yawned. “I mean, I might not even be at Hogwarts next year, what’s it matter to me if some fat old has-been likes me or not?”

Pansy’s hand dropped from Malfoy’s hair to her seat. She frowned down at him and snapped, “What do you mean, you might not be at Hogwarts next year?”

“Well, you never know,” Malfoy said in his usual drawl. “I might have — er — moved on to bigger and better things.”

Harry’s heart raced. He resisted the urge to shift closer; he could see and hear everything just fine, but he worried he would miss what Malfoy was truly up to. He held his breath.

Crabbe and Goyle stared at Malfoy as if they could not imagine anything bigger and better than harassing first years at Hogwarts. Zabini even quirked an eyebrow at Malfoy.

Pansy’s voice was hardly a whisper as she said, “Do you mean… Him?”

Malfoy did not answer her. “Mother wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don’t see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it, when the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care about how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone’s got? Of course he isn’t. It’ll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown.”

Harry remembered the loyalty Bellatrix had shown to Voldemort even as she’d been sentenced to life in Azkaban. She was the only one he saved. She was also Draco’s aunt, and maybe Draco had learned a thing or two from her.

“And you think you’ll be able to do something for him?” Zabini said with a snort. “Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?”

Malfoy scowled back. “I’ve just said, haven’t I? Maybe he doesn’t care if I’m qualified. Maybe the job he wants me to do isn’t something that you need to be qualified for.”

Crabbe and Goyle were still gaping. Whatever Malfoy was talking about was news to them. That surprised Harry. He’d always imagined that, stupid as they were, Malfoy still confided in them. He remembered the Christmas Eve years ago when he and Ron had impersonated Crabbe and Goyle and snuck into the Slytherin common room. Malfoy had spoken openly and freely with them. This must have been very secretive indeed for Malfoy to brag so vaguely to friends he traditionally confided in.

Pansy brushed a wisp of hair from Malfoy’s forehead and stared at him with wonder. Zabini seemed to be the only one left who thought Malfoy was spouting fantasies.

“I can see Hogwarts,” Malfoy said, and sat up, though he looked loathe to take the attention off of himself. “We’d better get our robes on.”

Harry glanced out the window and indeed, he saw that the lights of Hogwarts castle glistened on the horizon, despite the foggy evening. He looked back at Malfoy and failed to notice Goyle reach up for his trunk. The heavy baggage hit Harry on the head as Goyle yanked it down and Harry struggled to stifle a yelp. Malfoy’s eyes darted keenly to the empty space and Harry held his breath once more.

He was not afraid of Malfoy in the least — Harry had faced thirteen Death Eaters just months ago. He’d watched them torture Neville and Cedric, and that wasn’t the first time he’d watched Cedric be tortured. Malfoy was nothing compared to Voldemort. Still, he didn’t relish being discovered spying by a band of Slytherins.

Carefully, though his head still throbbed from the blow, Harry drew his wand from his jeans.

Malfoy did not stare at the space long. He dressed in his robes like the others. The train had begun to slow, but Harry could not leave until the compartment was empty. He wished fervently that Malfoy and his friends would head to the corridors, wait at the doors to be the first ones off the train. But sixth years were hardly so eager. The corridors packed with second, third, and a few fourth years as the shoved each other to be the first onto the platform, the first to the carriages, as if they could reach the feast faster. The sixth and seventh years knew better than to fight the crowds.

The train halted as the Slytherins finished putting on what looked like winter cloaks. Harry squinted out the window, but from his vantage point he couldn’t tell how cold the platform looked. Finally, Goyle opened the door and shoved his way into the crowded corridor. Crabbe was not far behind him. Zabini and Pansy waited at the door a moment until the crowd had thinned, then Zabini left. Pansy turned back and held her hand out to Draco.

“You go on,” Malfoy said. “I just want to check something.”

Harry could not hold his breath any more than he already was. His heart, he found, could race a little faster.

Malfoy drew the blinds and turned to his trunk. Harry struggled to see what Malfoy was digging out of his trunk — could it be the object that needed mending?

Malfoy turned suddenly and said, “Petrificus Totalus!” and pointed his wand at Harry.

Harry fell to the ground on top of his cloak. His body was frozen in the position he’d been crouched in and panic surged through Harry as he realized he was completely helpless, unable to move, to even twitch his fingers.

Malfoy kicked Harry’s wand from his hand. “I thought so,” he said. The smile on his face was thin and cold. “I heard Goyle’s trunk hit you. And I thought I saw something white flash through the air after Zabini came back. You didn’t hear anything I care about, Potter, but while I’ve got you here….”

Malfoy raised his foot and brought it down on Harry’s face.

It was a strange sensation, to feel pain, to feel blood dripping from his nose, and to be unable to react. Harry could not shout, he could not flinch, he could not hold the wound and stanch the bleeding. He wondered if this was how Cedric had felt as Pyrites had cut him open while he was under the Silencing Charm.

“That’s from my father,” Malfoy said. “Now, let’s see.” Malfoy yanked the cloak out from beneath Harry and let it fall on top of him. “I don’t reckon they’ll find you until the train’s back in London. See you around, Potter. Or not.”

Malfoy made sure to get one more stomp on Harry’s hand as he left the compartment.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince #hbp #hp everyone lives

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dropintomanga · 5 years

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Wotakoi - A Slow but Important Climb Out of Social Anxiety

If there’s one stereotype that seems to be a major one for otaku, it’s social anxiety. We get anxious over making friends and dealing with people outside of the internet. Although the anime only just introduced this character for a bit, the Wotakoi - Love Is Hard for an Otaku manga goes right in on Ko Sakuragi, a young woman who lives most of her life through games. But unlike main character Hirotaka Nifuji (who is a hardcore gamer himself), she struggles with social anxiety or has symptoms of it. Not only does Wotakoi depict what being an otaku in their 20s’-30s’ is like, but I feel it describes a person living with social anxiety well.

Readers get introduced to Ko as Hirotaka’s younger brother, Naoya Nifuji, talks to her during his job at a cafe about a MMORPG game he got wrecked in. Startled by the reaction, Ko runs away, but drops her homework at the cafe. It turns out both Naoya and Ko go to the same university. Naoya gives Ko back her homework at school and asks her to be his friend. Naoya and Ko start to grow closer together as they played the MMORPG game side-by-side. However, Naoya doesn’t know that Ko is a girl due to her boyish looks and height. One day, both were hanging out with friends at an arcade. While Ko runs off to the women’s restroom, Naoya happens to be at a vending machine near that restroom. He catches Ko coming out and she becomes distressed to the point of tears. After Ko rushes out of the arcade, Naoya becomes distressed and asks Hirotaka and Narumi Momose for help to repair his friendship with Ko.

Social anxiety is a pretty common mental health issue. Having that kind of anxiety means you have worry and fear about how you are around people. For example, you try to mean well with someone you’re close with, but then you start to over-think that you did too much or too little. You stress over being observed and judged. We all have cases of social anxiety, but how does it become a problem that interferes with someone’s daily life? If it lasts more than a few weeks and/or months, then that anxiety needs to be addressed.

For Ko, she struggles with making friends in public. She speaks softly, gets too self-conscious, and feels overwhelmed with emotion a lot. When Naoya asks to be her friend, Ko assumes he wants her gamer ID to play the MMORPG game with. While the two got together for a gaming session, Ko expressed desire to play with Naoya again despite the huge contrast between the two (Ko being a hardcore gamer, Naoya being a huge casual player). At the arcade, Ko actually smiles at Naoya telling him to not get stressed out over being an inadequate gamer. Ko then freaks out over what she said, even though she does say it’s important to play with friends.

Before the restroom scene, Ko ruminates over whether Naoya was really having fun with her. She started to believe that Naoya might be accusing her of looking down on him. Ko thinks back to her past where a few guys in her life rejected her over the fact that she wasn’t a man. She even yells at herself for comparing her past to her present. “Self-reflection”, which is considered to be Ko’s main skill, as a socially anxious person is a horrifying experience.

What I like about Ko’s portrayal is how Fujita highlights what happens when a socially anxious person tries to handle apologies from those who genuinely like them. After the incident at the arcade, Ko decides to skip school and play PC games all day. Although video gaming is a good solution to help with social anxiety, Ko was, as she quotes, running back to her “default mode” to hide from her insecurities. However, she starts to note how much she misses having contact with someone in a game.

Naoya finds her via the MMORPG game they play to apologize, which freaks Ko out. She knew she wasn’t upfront about her biological sex to him. Ko didn’t know what to say, so she replied with a deadpan message saying that she was the one at fault and implying that their friendship was over. This is a normal reaction for someone with social anxiety. Ko wants to be friends, but her fear leads to her believing that it’s all her fault to begin with and therefore she doesn’t deserve friendship. However, after teaming together to deal with a tough monster in the game, Naoya tells Ko that playing with her is the best and Ko agrees with a smile on her face.

Ko was worried that Naoya was going to judge her for being a woman like the guys she once knew. She couldn’t help but react the way she did. It’s also hard to blame Naoya for feeling like he did something wrong. Ko didn’t realize that people often like you more than you think. To be fair, we do have to be cautious of people at times. There’s a huge gap that needs to be addressed though and it’s the “liking gap.”

Basically, if both people in a conversation like each other, they perceive one another to be pleasant. However, if one person likes someone more than the other person likes them, there lies a huge sense of awkwardness in-between. Hence the gap in liking someone. Next thing you know, the person who’s stressed in the conversation start to stress over what they say or how to act around their conversation partner. They don’t realize they already made a great impression on their partner. There was a liking gap between Kou and Naoya and I liked how the manga illustrated this to a big degree. People with social anxiety, like Kou, really want to be liked. She knows that not everyone will treat her badly. But her mind acted like an overprotective parent in the worst way possible when real kindness came her way.

As I noted in Wotakoi, relationships are a lifelong battle manga. Ko still has trouble being around people at times, but Naoya is there to ease her into friendships. We can argue about various solutions to social anxiety, but we can all agree that the process has to be gradual. Let’s build one’s “default mode” to be one filled with enough courage to accept all emotions and face them head on with love.

#Wotakoi #wotaku ni koi wa muzukashii #Fujita #manga #Ko Sakuragi #Naoya Nifuji #social anxiety #mental health

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theabominableblogger · 5 years

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My Reaction to “Gotham” S5E5

*still reeling* ....OK.... hold on....

AN: I managed to record my reactions to this episode and hopefully I can transcribe what I said into this post.

*Recap shows Ed blowing up Haven in the flashback* So why did Ed blow up Haven?

Crap, and Jim’s gonna find out. WhooooOOOOO....

Whoa....

*has to tilt head to side to figure out what film is playing*

AN: It’s a 1953 noir film called “Tangier Incident”

“You gonna arrest me?” “Who said anything about arresting you?” *raises eyebrows in surprise*

“Whaddya say, boys?” Uhhhh...

OK, what is it with churches this season?

Take him down, Jim.

“Now, who told you I sold that RPG?” A friend.

*gasps when a military squad rappels through the stain glass on the ceiling*

Whoa whoa wait what?

Oh I like that camera shot [when Jim took down the arms dealer]

*gasps when the arms dealer gets shot in the head*

Ohhhh is this-

*Eduardo walks up and pulls down his mask* Yooo!

“Last time I saw you, you were running through sniper fire plucking my sorry ass from a burning truck.” *chuckles*

I am very interested to see how Shane West is gonna pull off Bane.

*silently jams out to opening theme*

Oh, I like this slow version.

“We hated each other in boot. Jim disapproved of my ops tempo.” “Yeah, ‘cause you only had one speed: too fast.” *chuckles*

Ahhh Harvey’s being the third wheel!

“We’re here to eliminate all criminal threats.” *starts chuckling* Eduardo’s rolling his eyes. He’s like ‘I can’t believe I’m here either.’

*lets out small gasp when Jim finds Ed’s name in the arms dealer’s ledger*

“What you [Harvey] are is the best cop that I know. I’m goin’ after Nygma; he’s ten steps ahead. If anything goes sideways, you’ll have to take over. I need your help, buddy.” VINDICATIOOONNNN!!

*trying to read the name of the episode writer* Who wrote this? Id- what?

“You saw what she did to Jeremiah.” Did you though?

“Jeremiah Valeska deserved to die.” *smirking because we all know he’s still alive*

“Jeremiah made Selina a murderer. Just like Ra’s made me a murderer.” “Ra’s goaded you into stabbing him, Master Bruce. He used you as an instrument; you’re no murderer.” *jaw drops*

*sits back in seat* Holy shit, that parallel!

“And I’m gonna go find her.” Oh, I’m betting Selina’s not gonna be happy to see you.

*fans self* This episode’s gonna break me.

*Ed listens to his past recordings* A swamp?

“YOU’RE NOT A MURDERER, ED.” Wow, I love Jim Carrey in “Batman Forever”

*gasps when Ed breaks the mirror by punching it*

*chuckling* How did they find him so fast?!?

“No, Jim, I can explain!” *nods*

“I can prove it! I just- I need- I need a little bit of time.” No, no, take him in now. Take him in.

“The people I have hurt... they hurt me first. I didn’t know a single person in Haven!” What the hell kind of excuse is that?

“Your call, buddy.” Don’t shoot him. Just take him in.

“We bring him in. He stands trial.” There we go.

*The floor panel under Eduardo sinks down* Oh my God, they put a bomb in the floor.

“Your friend is standing on a pressure-plated IED. One of several throughout the rooms.” Of course he found time- when did he find time to rig the room?

*laughs* That little eyebrow [raise of Eduardo’s]- like “Really?!?”

“Once word gets out that you’re responsible for Haven, they’ll have a target on your back.” “I’ll take my chances.” Really?

“A wristband that monitors his heart rate?” “Welcome to Gotham.” *laughs*

“Puzzle?” “There’s always a puzzle with Nygma.” Yes, there is.

*Jim climbs over to the bookshelf on the tables and chairs* The floor is lava!

Actually Jim and Eduardo work really well together. I like that.

*sighs in relief when Jim manages to get to the bookshelf*

*still laughing* How do you get rid of a bomb? Easy. The floor is lava!

“I’m gonna wring this nerd’s [Ed’s] neck.” *laughs* SAME!

*Jim pulls out one of the books* ...Did he stop it?

*Jim steps down without being blown up* YEAH! There we go!

“You OK?” “You left the army for this city?” *giggles*

“It grows on you.” *still giggling*

What is this?

“Everybody, raise your glasses to the killer of Jeremiah Valeska.” *shaking head while smiling* No... mmm no...

“Bring his head! Bring his head!” Ohhh...

Also, where the heck is Jeremiah?

*chuckles at Ed being described as a “tall, skinny man”*

...That’s not much of a description to go on.

*very confused at a group of people rallying together to kill Ed*

I miss Mr. Penn

“Edward Nygma is the monster respon-” *gasps*

“-responsible for killing the innocents of Haven.” *covers mouth with hands*

“...Ed, what have you done?” *leans back in seat* Ohhh my God. Oh Oswald, are you gonna break my heart this episode?

I can’t believe Ed is stuck within a redneck community.

So who sent Eduardo and his team? The government, right?

“Taking him down? That’d be a big win.” “Well, that’s why we’re here.” Oh my God, are they gonna take down Scarecrow?

*Ed tied to a lawn chair covered in electrical wire* What the....

Also, Ed, I want your boots. Also, why is a guy wearing anklet boots?

What??

What?? What am I watching?

What??

Are they gonna electrocute him? What??

*The redneck family electrocutes Ed* Well “Honey Boo Boo” looks terrible.

“Pay for JoJo!” JoJo?

*The mother shows Ed a sepia picture of JoJo* A dog? What?!? This about a dog?

AN: Also the actress who plays the mother here was in the Adam West Batman show.

“300 people died in Haven!” “Pfft, we don’t care about people.” *jaw drops open in shock*

WHA-WHA- WHAT AM I WATCHING??

“He... always had a smile on his face.” You’re talking about a dog.

“You anthropomorphizing nincompoop!” Wha- *starts giggling*

“Dogs can’t smile!” *leans back in seat to laugh*

[Ed’s] Gotta whip out that thesaurus!

*Ed starts remembering Oswald* Oh my God!

“I’m going to fix you, Ed!” *starts singing “Fix You” by Coldplay*

*gasps when Ed gets electrocuted with a full charge*

“I’m gong to fix you, Ed.” Please go find Oswald!

“Oh thank God the fuel line’s clogged.” *leans back to laugh and slaps table in hilarity*

*The mother makes her sons “fix” the fuel line* Oh my God, is that gonna send the charge back? Oh my God, he’s gonna burn these suckas alive.

*gasps when the car used to electrocute Ed bursts into flames*

Please tell me Ed’s gonna like take off on down the street with the chair still attached-

*Ed does exactly that* YES, LET’S GO!

*imitates the way Oswald says “feelers” sarcastically*

“I am surrounded by morons, Edward.” Aaawww...

Did he really just come in through the grate?

“But first, did you name your dog after me?” YES BITCH HE DID

Oswald’s like “I’m not answering that question.”

“Cobblepot’s on the top of my list from Walker.” Walker? Wait, Walker sent them? The secretary lady? Are we ever gonna meet her?

AN: Yes, in the next episode.

“Shock and awe’s my default.” *raises fist in small fist pump*

Poor Harvey’s the third wheel on this.

“You know what, take Harvey with you.” YEAHH!

“Man, you’re killing my buzz.” Is Selina drunk?

Yes, she is. How old are these kids?

“Let me [Selina] tell you [Bruce] something. That night, that your parents were murdered?” Nooo!

“I was in that alley, on that fire escape.” This is such a low blow.

*trying not to be sad over Selina bringing Bruce down*

“You... were the scared kid.” *sits back in seat* Oh my God... shut up, Selina!

I’m very disappointed right now.

“I love this song...” *shakes head in disapproval*

*Selina and Bruce start crying* Oh God, you’re making me... *fans near eyes*

Whoa, that was just the most sudden cut [back to Ed and Oswald]!

“How could you? You have made into some murderous puppet!” *shakes head* No, I don’t think Oswald’s behind that!

“For weeks, I've been waking up in strange places, not knowing how I got there or what I did. Driving myself mad, thinking I had gone mad. And now I know that it was all your doing!” No it wasn’t!

*claps hands toward screen* NooOOO... LISTEN!

“Of everything that you have put me through, this... this is the most cruel.” *puts hand on chest and shakes head* Oh my God...

Nooo...

“Ed, I [Oswald] don’t know what you’re talking about.” He didn’t have anything to do with it!

“You didn’t fix me! You broke me!” *puts hands in front of mouth in panic*

“You [Ed] had been stabbed, I [Oswald] paid Hugo Strange to save your life. I bet he did something to you when he was patching you up.” *flailing hands around* OK, ask about Lee! WHERE’S LEE?!?

“What was I supposed to do? Let you die?” *crosses hands over chest and leans back in chair*

“After Butch, you were my only friend.” *voice squeaky* Oh my God!

*Holds up finger toward screen* You [Oswald] are not gonna make me cry!

Whyyy do I recognize this music?

AN: It’s the track called “Penguin in Love” from S3

He [Oswald] walked into the gun [that Ed was pointing at him]!

Can you two just please have a drink and just make up please? Thank you.

“I [Ed] might have killed you, Oswald. And if that day comes, I swear to you I will stare you in the eye as I stab you in the heart.” *slowly nods* Glad to know we’re back on schedule.

*slams fist down on table like a gavel*

“If Hugo Strange did something to you [Ed], it means you are not responsible for Haven.” So what did Hugo Strange do?

*gasps when the roof shudders over Oswald and Ed*

*Ed disappears* Of course Ed runs! Jesus... Christ!

“Idiot!” *giggles* His little hop [when Oswald slapped one of his men on the shoulder in anger]!

Whoaaaa that’s a cool shot [of one of Eduardo’s men throwing a smoke bomb in the foyer]

Ohhhhhhhh that shot’s cool [of Oswald in the smoke]!

“Why hello, Harvey!” *in same tone of voice* Hiiiii!!!

“I hope you’re better prepared.” Uh, he [Harvey] has the military with him.

“Or, if you [Harvey] and your friends aren’t out by the time I count to three, I will mow you all DOWN!” Robin Lord Taylor is just killing it in this episode. Oh my gosh...

Also, Cory Michael Smith with that [confrontation with Oswald]. That scene was so good!

“I don’t have to call anyone. Go ahead. Count.” Ohhh, let’s go, Harvey! Let’s go!

*gasps when Oswald’s men got shot down via sniper on the staircase*

“Where’s Ed Nygma?” He doesn’t have him!

*gasps when Ed is taken to Barbara’s office*

*points at screen* How? How?

“There’s more going on here.” There’s always more going on in Gotham.

“I’m saying that Strange, or somebody, can control me. They killed those people.” Why would Hugo Strange go after Haven then?

“Information is your lifeblood. You help me [Ed], and I will give you the best intel you’ve ever had.” Listen to him, please. Barbara, listen to him.

“I don’t know where Strange is.” Where the heck is Strange then?!?

“But I can tell you where you’ll find his Igors.” Wait, he has his own gang called “Igors?” Oh my God...

*gasps* Are they torturing Oswald?

“You know, they say you can judge a man by his friends.” “This from a man [Oswald] who has no friends.” Wha- excuse me! You [Jim] are his friend.

“Nygma’s a patsy.” *cracks up*

“Jim, you want information. I want to go home.” Same.

“Things are changing in Gotham.” We know.

*Eduardo opens the door to the empty interrogation room* Oh my God, did he let him go?

He let him go. Jiiimm...

*jaw drops open in confusion when Strange sends a cadaver down a chute*

*chuckles when Ed jumps out of a body bag to surprise Strange*

“Oh my.” *laughs* Yes, BD Wong, come through! Yes!

I’m actually really glad we see Hugo Strange again

This lighting in this location is fabulous

“But I [Strange] will confess that when I was sewing up your [Ed’s] knife wound, I may tinkered a little with your grey matter.” The frick?!?

“I put a chip in your brain.” :O

“It allows you to be able to be controlled remotely.” *shoves away table with screen on it* What the [expletive]?!?

“But I don’t control you. I gave control to others.” Who’s controlling Ed?

“I [Strange] will write it down. That way, if I’m ever confronted, I can honestly say that I never told you [Ed].” That’s actually a pretty good way to go around it.

*Strange knocks out Ed* :O

“Not to worry. You’re experiencing a simple neural cut out.” What?

“I suppose we’re just going to have to open you [Ed] up and take a look under the hood.” *gasps* OH my GOD!

Holy shit!

“Are you [Bruce] sure you’re all right?” No he’s not!

“What if we don’t make it out of this?” *crosses hands over chest and leans back*

“Because the little things matter. Act by act, deed by deed, it means something. Even if no one cares.” Oh my God, Harveyyyyy!!

We’re adding him to the Bat-Dads. Yes! He’s the Bat-Uncle!

*laughs when Bruce pulls a Batman on Harvey*

*gasps when Strange turns off one of his tools*

“I apologize for the discomfort.” You better not!

*leans back and yells in disgust when the camera shows part of Ed’s exposed brain* Did we really need to see the brain?!?

What the frick happened?!?

*gasps when Oswald is shown carrying his dog* Oh my God!

That’s it. That’s the best part of this episode.

Secret door...

What is- what is this place?!?

That a manhole?

*makes aawing noises at Edward in Oswald’s arms*

He’s getting him out of harm’s way!

“Edward, I believe the time has come for a change in scenery.” *still cooing over the dog* Yeah...

Is he [Strange] stapling his [Ed’s] head [closed]?

*gasps when Jim holds Strange at gunpoint* Shiit...

Wait, so if Ed’s like the Winter Soldier for Gotham, who’s Hydra?

“I [Strange] am a scientist. A contract came along; I developed a tool.” Why??

*gasps in shock when Eduardo activates Ed’s chip*

“Ta ta.” *flips off screen in shock*

“I [Eduardo] couldn’t say anything until we had the suspect in custody, but Walker wants Ed Nygma taken out now.” *soft gasp*

“Walker was behind this?” Wha-

“You know I hate this spook crap.” *chuckles*

Why would the government blow up Haven?

“Walker wants you [Jim] to put a bullet in his [Ed’s] brain.” *shakes hands at screen* No no nonononononono!

“Call it proof of loyalty.” Why?!?

“IT’s what she needs from you before she can move forward with final relief plans.” What are they gonna do to Gotham?

“Look at him [Ed]. He’s a loon. A cop killer.” *shakes head*

Why would they destroy Haven?

“Jim, ours is not to reason why.” He’s [Eduardo] just a lieutenant. He doesn’t know anything.

*gasps and slaps hands on desk* It’s like Russo in “The Punisher,” because he only took orders from Agent Orange and Orange didn’t tell him everything! He’s a dog on a leash!

“What’s your answer?” He’s [Eduardo] not gonna shoot Jim.

*leans back when Jim sets down his gun* God... oh my God...

*gasps when Jim pulls a surprise attack on Eduardo*

Wait, how is Ed just frozen there?

“You [Ed] know Jim Gordon. You know this city. Find him and kill him.” What?!?

*Ed yeets down the chute after Jim* OK, that kinda took me out of the moment but what the hell am I watching?

God, that city looks terrible.

*gasps and reels back* It’s Jeremiah! Yes!

He’s just sleepin’, this scary, beautiful man.

What are they doing?

What?!?

“Ouch.” *eyebrows raise*

“Stitches still sore, huh? Never would have happened if you [Jeremiah] wore that armor I [Ecco] prepared.” *scoffs* Of cou-

“That bullet is making you [Ecco] sentimental.” Glass houses?

“Give her a shake, huh?” *jaw drops out of mixture of shock, confusion, and being grossed out when Ecco shakes her head for him*

“I told you I had to let Selina thrust the knife into my flesh at least once.” *tries not to be disgusted”

“Verisimilitude trumps precaution, you see.” *ends up smiling*

AN: What a great line.

“Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne needed to think you were dead, boss.” “Yeah.” Thank you, Captain Obvious-

*gasps when Jeremiah suddenly makes Ecco lean down toward him*

Where are they? Is this still that tunnel from the Soothsayer’s lair?

*jaw drops in shock when Jeremiah and Ecco walk into the sitting room of Wayne Manor*

*slaps hands on table and leans back* SHHHUT THE FRICK UP!

Shit, this is the music from the first trailer!

*gasps and jaw drops open in absolute horror when the surgery patients are shown to Jeremiah for the first time*

*Jeremiah laughs* [very softly] My God...

“gasps when the camera gets in Jeremiah’s face*

“I love family reunions, don’t you?” *just shaking out of shock*

*shoves away laptop and table at the final shot of Jeremiah* Ahh my God!

*End title pops up* Wait-wh-wh-wait what? What?

*gets out of seat to take it all in when end credits roll*

*comes back after a good five seconds* What the freak did I just watch?

*sits for a while to try to catch my breath* Whoo...

We got to wait two weeks for another episode? Get the frick outta here. Oh my God...

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multiimuse · 5 years

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☆☁ ☂ εжз❤❥❣✖♡ for the stray dogs :)

☆ : Would they ever wish upon a falling star? If so, what would they wish?

Chuuya - Please, as if there’s any value in something that stupid. You won’t catch him doing it. Make your changes yourself, get what you want yourself, and if you can’t, then it probably wasn’t worth wanting, anyway.

Alcott - Absolutely. It isn’t that she necessarily believes it will amount to anything, but there’s always the chance that it could. As for what she would wish for? Her family to be happy and whole again.

Ranpo - Depending on his mood at the time, yes. But he wouldn’t wish for anything serious; maybe that he’d win a lifetime’s supply of candy, or that a case comes it that isn’t boring and barely worth bothering with. ... The candy wish has better odds.

☁ : Describe how they would spend a stormy, overcast/rainy day.

Chuuya - He’s not one to pay too much attention to the weather, unless for some reason he’s spending a rare private day at home. If that’s the case, he’ll devote his time to one of his private hobbies. There is something to be said for writing poetry on a rainy day, after all.

Alcott - Did you mean an excuse to bury herself in books? Because that’s what storms and rainy days are for her; she’ll stay inside with a good book and some tea and keep herself thoroughly occupied in the process.

Ranpo - If he has to go out on a case on a rainy day? He’ll spend it complaining and will absolutely require a bribe to get him to head out. If he has nothing to do he’ll hole up in the office with his snacks and computer card games; he’s not very fond of having to go out when it’s wet.

☂ : Storms or clear skies?

Chuuya - Clear skies. Storms are an inconvenience. (Though a fight in a storm is pretty damn fun sometimes.)

Alcott - She prefers storms, as long as she can stay inside and watch them without being exposed to them!

Ranpo - Clear skies, if mostly because particularly bad storms make it hard to do anything fun!

εжз : What about nature do they find calming? What about nature do they find disagreeable?

Chuuya - The ocean’s pretty calming, if you can find a place to watch it that’s away from the major ports. It’s relaxing to watch the water now and then. He doesn’t like how quiet and isolated heavily-natural areas tend to be, though: give him the city, give him places full of people and the things they create. It’s what he knows and what he’s comfortable with.

Alcott - She finds rainfall calming, along with falling snow and warm fires. She doesn’t like when it gets too hot, and pollen is the bane of her existence every spring. ... Also, insects. They’re a part of nature, but they’re a part that she dislikes and thinks should stay away from her.

Ranpo - There’s really nothing in nature Ranpo finds calming, per se; it’s just kind of there, full of things to notice and remember if it involves a care but that can’t hold his attention on its own. Hm, maybe you could call that disagreeable, in a way?

❤ : Describe a physical action that shows complete trust.

Chuuya - Generally, one of the easiest ways to tell if Chuuya trusts you is if he falls asleep on or near you. He can’t and won’t let himself rest around someone he doesn’t trust, bar overindulging in alcohol. So, then, if he falls asleep, he trusts you not to betray him or harm him or otherwise let him come to harm. (Using Corruption is also something of an exception, because he literally can’t stay awake after it ends; his body and mind need rest too much to let him remain alert in the immediate aftermath.)

Alcott - She’ll smile more, she’ll try to be helpful, and most importantly you’ll see her more often, because she won’t be hiding away as much when she gets shy and anxious. If she trusts someone, she feels safe enough to stay by their side, even when she’s scared.

Ranpo - With Ranpo,when he trusts someone, he’ll listen to them. He’s naturally prone to trusting his own intellect and opinions above everyone else’s, so listening to and acknowledging others’ opinions and points doesn’t come easily to him. In fact this can be a struggle regardless, but that he’s willing to make the effort to try and to pay attention goes a long way toward showing how much he trusts a person.

❥ : Describe a verbal way they would express complete trust.

Chuuya - A verbal expression of Chuuya’s trust would have to be him admitting things about himself; things he isn’t comfortable bringing up or talking about --- vulnerable areas that would normally never be addressed at all. In addition, he tends to worry more openly about the people he trusts, which includes asking after them especially when he has cause for concern.

Alcott - When she trusts someone, Louisa talks to them! She becomes more vocal. and while her uncertainty and anxiety aren’t gone, she can carry on full conversations, often at-length. In short, she’s more sociable when she trusts you, and it’s very, very obvious. (In addition, she’s much less afraid of voicing complaints and exasperation with the people she trusts completely, because she knows their reactions well enough to be sure it’s something she can handle.)

Ranpo - This one is hard to answer, because Ranpo is pretty open, verbally speaking. He’ll ramble about anything and everything anyway without caring whether or not it makes sense to anyone but him; he’ll whine and complain and demand ego-stroking from the world at large. His sign of trust is in the pauses, in holding his words back, in not complaining when he otherwise would be --- and, perhaps most significantly, with very specific people and specific circumstances, he’ll be straightforward and focused, dropping the whining and immaturity because there are things more important than his comfort zone.

❣: Describe a way that will earn affection (whether platonic or romantic) from them.

Chuuya - ...For one thing, don’t mock him. Don’t mock him or wind him up and manipulate him. Show an interest in his interests, appreciate his tastes, and don’t pry too much into details that he doesn’t want to share. Granted, to get to this point you already have to have built up a certain amount of trust with him, or else he’ll stay relatively neutral. And if you’re on his bad side, good luck. (That being said, if someone like Dazai stopped mocking him he’d be suspicious and somewhat concerned by default.)

Alcott - Keep her in tea and books, respect her need to have time to herself to think and plan, reassure her if her anxiety’s getting to be too much. Relatively simple things, really; she’s easy to please and doesn’t see a point in asking for much when it’s much better to appreciate what’s being given freely. It’s just good manners, really!

Ranpo - Give him candy, help him navigate the train system, get the marble out of the ramune bottle for him, apply liberal amounts of praise. More specifically? Treat him like a person, have patience with him (he knows he can be aggravating to say the least; he just doesn’t see a point in changing himself. He is how he is and that’s that. Try to give him mental challenges --- even if they end up too easy, he’s still appreciative when someone’s willing to try!

✖ : Describe a way to make them uneasy or apprehensive.

Chuuya - The main thing that bothers Chuuya is the threat of betrayal and a loss of control. If you want to make him uneasy you need to make him doubt the loyalty of the people he’s surrounded by (admittedly not an easy thing) or make him feel like he isn’t in control of himself, his life, or his future. It’s one thing to serve a good boys, it’s another to be jerked around like someone’s plaything on a string, and not only does the latter tick him off, an implication that he might lose that security is unnerving if you can get enough weight behind it to make it convincing.

Alcott - She’s something of a nervous person anyway, so it’s not hard to make her uneasy. In particular, however she doesn’t deal well with risk and uncertainties. That’s why she works so hard to try and cover every detail possible in her strategy plans, and why she wants to be prepared for any eventuality. Catch her off-guard and make her have to deal with that fear she has of things being unpredictable or dangerous and she’ll be unsettled for ages.

Ranpo - It’s not particularly easy to make Ranpo anxious; he’s smart enough to see most threats coming and he’s surrounded by capable people who know how to look after themselves. However, if Fukuzawa and/or the Agency is threatened, and it’s a real threat, one that he hasn’t yet figured out how to deal with, one that can’t be prepared for, he’ll be knocked off-balance. In fact, anything that threatens his security will make him a little apprehensive, but again that’s very hard to do because his safety net is so strong. (However looking at recent manga events... ahaha...)

♡ : Is there a certain scent that brings about nostalgia? If so, describe a memory this scent brings back.

Chuuya - There’s nothing that really evokes nostalgia in him, per se, but being near the docks when the fishing boats are bringing their catches sure does bring back one memory in particular. Mainly that of Dazai being dragged up in a fishing net along with the day’s catch, and the fact that he smelled like fish for a week afterword. He’ll never forget that incident.

Alcott - The scent of a fireplace will always make her feel a little nostalgic, especially if it’s accompanied by other sensory experiences such as soft music, particularly piano music. That particular smell reminds her of her early childhood, winters spent curled up together and listening to her father read to them all, or gathered around the piano while her middle sister played.

Ranpo - Jasmine and lilies does this to Ranpo. That’s the scent of his mother’s favorite perfume, and smelling it reminds him of his life with his parents while they were still alive. Memories of the world making sense and being absolutely safe, knowing that adults who were smarter than him were looking out for him and loved him. He doesn’t (let himself) think about his parents too often, but that smell will take him right back every time.

#;hc: chuuya #;hc: alcott #;hc: ranpo #because apparently i can't stop #strangefellows

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