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pink-booty-butts · 10 months

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Oodles o’ Noodles (Ariel Conroy x Reader Smut)

(one of my fav lines he says haha)

Pairing: Ariel x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,742

Summary: Based on an anon request! You’re Jamie’s girlfriend but Ariel doesn’t like that so he kidnaps you and you have sex :D

Warnings: smut obvi, minors pls go read something else! Not proof read! Ariel being a stalker, a kidnapper, obsessive etc etc. cheating (poor Jamie </3), degradation, hair pulling.

A/N: thank you so much for the request anon!! i really love getting requests and i’m sorry it takes so long for me to to do them sometimes!! I haven’t written in forever so I’m sorry if this sucks and if ariel is ooc! I hope you and everyone else enjoys! :)

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You sigh. You stand up and gather your things; tired of pretending to be productive while you waited for your boyfriend to show. Just as you were leaving the coffee shop—a cheery little bell signaling your exit—your phone rang. You continue walking as you pick up.

“Darling, I’m so, so sorry I know I’m late it’s just going to be a little while longer,” he panics over the phone.

“It’s fine Jamie, don’t worry about it. We can reschedule,” you tell him. You were being truthful, of course. Though you were admittedly slightly disappointed he didn’t show, you knew Jamie was a busy man and that’s what you signed up for. You could hardly fault him for prioritizing an emergency that involved people’s money being stolen.

Jamie breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he swears. “Maybe I could stop by later? When this is all over?” he asks hopefully.

“Sure, that sounds nice,” you respond.

“Great!” he says quickly before you can say anything else. “I’m sorry love I’ve got to go, the police just arrived. I’ll see you later, love you!” He hangs up before you can reciprocate, so you continue your walk to the grocery store.

Unbeknownst to you, a man was scrambling up the stairs to the window of his house to get a closer look at you. A convenient shadow cast over the area next to the window, so he positioned himself within it so he was mere inches away while you walked past. Ariel had gotten as close to you before, of course, and he had seen you in much more intimate settings through his cameras; but this was the first time you got close to him. You didn’t know it, but Ariel took this chance meeting as a sign. His plans needed to be accelerated—you were going to be his by tonight.

While you were busy looking at what produce to buy, Ariel was rummaging through his notes. He had stacks upon stacks of notebooks, loosely scribbled-on napkins, and sticky notes on the logistics of how best to bring you into his life. As he began riffling through them he kept your image on his monitors, looking up at you ever now and then with gleeful excitement at the though that today would be the last day he’d have to settle for your pixelated image.

By the time you were done grocery shopping you were absolutely exhausted. On your walk to the train station you briefly considered making one of your regular meals with the groceries you just purchased, but decided you’d much rather have a lazy night in and relax until Jamie showed up at your place. Before walking down the steps to get on the train going home you placed a delivery order with one of your favorite restaurants, making sure to order Jamie’s favorite dish too for when he got off work. Once you finish doing so you pick up your grocery bags again and begin your short journey home.

You arrive at your doorstep and are briefly puzzled as to why your food order wasn’t waiting on your doorstep. You shrug and enter your home, figuring there was some kind of delay or traffic that was holding up your delivery driver.

You enter your kitchen and begin putting your groceries away, and by the time you are finished and about to check your delivery app, the doorbell rings. You leave your phone on the counter to open the door, and are greeted with a familiar looking delivery man. Before you have time to process why a man who looks exactly like your boyfriend is delivering your food, you feel something stab your neck and your vision goes black.

You wake up with a throbbing headache. You slowly blink your eyes open, and as your vision focuses you realize you have no idea where you are. You attempt to stand up, but are quickly prevented from doing so as the handcuff around your wrist yanks you back to the bed leg you are tied to. Your heart begins to race as you attempt to use your free hand to remove your restraints, but a voice begins to speak.

“Don’t do that babe, you’ll hurt yourself,” he warns affectionately. You look around the room for the source of the voice, and all you can see is a pair of boots standing at the top of the stairs leading out of the basement you are currently in. You attempt to lean forward to get a better look, but the most you can see is the bottom of his jeans and what appears to be the bottom of a plastic takeout bag.

“Who are you? Why am I here?” you demand. He chuckles, as if you asked him something silly. He begins walking down the stairs as he speaks.

“My name’s Ariel,” he says as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. His eyes crinkle with joy at the sight of your terrified and confused face looking at him. “And you’re here because I love you.”

Ariel sits on the floor next to you, placing the bag of food in front of both of you. It was from the restaurant you ordered from earlier. He takes out the container with your food in it and places it in front of your crossed legs, along with some plastic utensils. He takes out the second container— which you expected to be Jamie’s usual order of Pad See Ew—but were instead greeted with the sight of a bright red curry. He brings the container closer to him as he begins eating next to you, looking at you affectionately between bites.

“You look like…” you trail off, before looking back down at your food with furrowed eyebrows. Surely you were dreaming, because there could be no other explanation for why your kidnapper looked exactly like your boyfriend.

“Your boyfriend?” he asks with a grin. “I’m his twin brother. Not that he would know of course, he’s adopted. Our mum gave him up after we were born,” he explains, his jaw clenching slightly. You start eating your food as you attempt to cope with your situation.

“Is that why you kidnapped me?” you ask.

“No,” he breathes. “Jamie ruined my life, so I ruin his. I keep a close eye on him to make sure nothing good happens in his life.” He pauses to take another bite of his food, looking at you with an intense gaze. “And from the moment he started dating you, I knew he wasn’t good enough for you.”

“That’s not true!” you protest, raising your voice slightly. Ariel looks stunned for a moment before breaking out into a wide grin.

“Oh really?” he chuckles, leaning close to whisper in your ear. You attempt to move away, but can’t due to still being handcuffed. “Is that why you always fake your orgasms with him?”

Your eyes widen and you yank your wrist again, trying to get away from him. He grabs your handcuffed wrist to stop you. “Babe, I told you to stop doing that,” he chastises, looking at your wrist for any signs of injury.

“You don’t know me,” you state accusingly.

“Oh don’t I?” he asks with a grin. He grabs your takeout container as well as his and puts them back in the bag, standing up and setting them on a far away table. When he returns to where you are he sits on his knees, yanking on your hair and pulling your face up to his.

“I know how to make you feel good,” he tells you. “You haven’t been fucked properly in ages, just let me prove it to you.” Ariel looks down at you with burning desire, desperately willing you to say yes with his mind. You nearly give in. Despite how incredibly wrong your situation is, you had to admit you have fantasized about this kind of scenario before.

“I-I can’t,” you let out. Though part of you was tempted, there was another part of you that couldn’t bear the thought of hurting Jamie this way. You wrestle with yourself internally, but Ariel knows you better than you think he does, so he chuckles.

“He’ll never know,” he says. He tugs on your hair harder, making you yelp. “And even if he did, do you really think I’ll let you go? I’ve been planning this for months—you’re mine now.”

You sigh dejectedly, knowing he had a point. You still felt guilty, but as far as Jamie was concerned you’d most likely never see him again. You give Ariel a small, shaky nod, and he breaks out into the widest smile you’ve seen on his face so far.

“Good girl,” he breathes against your cheek before kissing it. “I knew you’d see it my way.” Ariel releases his grip on your hair, his hands roaming your body enthusiastically.

He unlocks your handcuffs as he kisses your neck, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted you. He grabs your elbows and helps you stand up before pushing you against the wall and pressing his lips to yours. He forces his tongue in your mouth, relishing in the taste of the food he provided for you earlier. He presses his hard member against your body and groans, growing more excited at the thought of being inside of you.

Ariel shoves his hand up your shirt and bra, impatiently needing to touch your skin. You hiss as your bra is forcefully pushed over your exposed breast, but the pain is soon forgotten as he begins teasing your nipple. You bite your lip at the sensation, feeling ashamed of yourself for enjoying it so much.

“Don’t hold those pretty noises back,” he growls against your lips. He twists your nipple harshly, causing you to gasp. “I want to hear you scream for me.” He presses another kiss to your lips and takes a step back so he can take your shirt off. He unclasps your bra expertly and throws it aside so he can toy with both your breasts. Ariel then brings his head to your neck and starts sucking and biting your delicate skin, using his knee between your legs to press you against the wall and tease your clothed pussy.

You reluctantly bring your hands to his shoulders for support, needing something to hold onto due to the pleasure overwhelming your senses. He smiles against your neck in return, seeing it as a small victory. You moan lightly as his knee presses harder between your legs, and Ariel takes that as his cue to unbutton your jeans and let them fall to the ground.

Two of his fingers press against your underwear, and Ariel smirks to himself when he feels how wet the fabric is. “I know you want this,” he chuckles. “So just give in already and I’ll make you feel so, so good.”

He continues running his fingers lightly on your clothed folds, teasing you in the hopes you’ll do or say something to prove to him you want him. His fingers stop and you buck your hips in protest, causing Ariel to force your panties down and forcefully shove one of his fingers inside of you. You whine loudly due to the unexpected intrusion, but it quickly transforms into pleasurable moans as he begins pumping his finger in and out. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as you feel your legs begin to shake.

He soon adds another finger to join the first. He relishes in the sight of your eyebrows furrowing once he does so, knowing you were too invested in the pleasure he was providing you to even consider resisting him.

As Ariel continues stretching you out with his fingers, he begins unbuttoning his trousers with his free hand. He impatiently pushes his boxers down as well, kicking them to the side. He forcefully grips you by the shoulders and turns you around, pressing your naked body against the wall.

“I can take care of you better than he can,” he breathes into your ear. He holds your hips in place as he drags the head of his cock against your wet folds, teasing you. You whimper, causing Ariel to dig his nails into your flesh. “He says he loves you, but you doubt him, I know you do. You’d never have to worry about that with me, babe. I really do love you, you’re fucking perfect.”

“Please,” you beg, trying to push his cock into your waiting pussy. “D-don’t tease me like this.”

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want me to fuck you,” he grins, continuing to tease you with the head of his cock.

“Please,” you whimper, scratching your nails on the wall. “Please…I need it so badly,” you blush. You worry briefly it won’t be enough for him, but you moan in relief when his cock starts pushing into you. He grabs your hair again and pulls you back towards him, playing with your breasts with his other hand once his length is fully inside of you.

“You’re lucky I’ve been dreaming about this,” he pants, struggling not to cum instantly at the feeling of your cunt. “Next time I won’t give in so easily.”

Your pussy clenches around his cock at his words, and Ariel chuckles. “You like that idea, don’t you?” You shake your head, and Ariel slaps your ass. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen what you read, what you watch, and how much it turns you on. You want to get fucked like the slut you are, and that’s why you need me,” Ariel growls, before moving his hands to your hips again and increasing the pace of his thrusts.

“Do you think he’d fuck you like this? That he’d approve of all your slutty little fantasies? I can make all your dreams come true babe,” he insists.

“Ariel,” you whine. He groans at the sound of his name passing your lips. “Harder,” you moan, and with a triumphant grin he moves his hips as fast as he can, filling the basement with the sound of your moans and skin slapping against skin.

“You need me,” he breathes against the shell of your ear. “You need me to fuck you like a whore, to fuck you how he never could. Admit it.” He presses his fingers deeper into your hips, a silent warning of the consequences if you don’t tell him what he wants to hear.

“I need you to fuck me like a whore,” you moan, feeling your orgasm building. “I need you to fuck me like he never could, please!” You gasp out your last word as he violently presses his thumb on your clit.

He only needs to circle it a few times until you feel your legs give out due to your orgasm crashing over you. Ariel wraps his arm around your waist to help you stay upright, thrusting into you a few times before you feel his cum spill into your sensitive pussy. You pant against the wall for a few seconds and he reluctantly pulls out of you.

Ariel repositions his arms around your waist and legs so he can pick you up and carry you to the bed you were previously handcuffed to. He sets you on the mattress gently and quickly goes back up the stairs, giving you some time to catch your breath.

He returns with a damp cloth that he uses to clean you up, and offers you a cool glass of water. You take a few sips from it before handing it back to him, and he drinks the rest. He places the empty cup on the floor and crawls in bed with you, excited to hold you in his arms.

“We’re perfect for each other,” he states as he pulls the duvet cover over your bodies. Ariel rests his head on the pillow and pulls you closer to him, pressing your head to his chest as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“I know you can’t see it right now, but we are. I’ll make you so much happier than he ever could.” He places a gentle kiss on your scalp as he sees you slowly drift to sleep. He smiles to himself and wraps his arms around you tightly, content in knowing he’ll never have to live without you again.

#ariel conroy x reader #ariel conroy imagine #ariel conroy fanfiction #ariel conroy x reader smut #ariel conroy fic #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader fic #ymata fanfiction #ymata imagine #you me and the apocalypse fic #you me and the apocalypse fanfiction

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theflyindutchwoman · 4 months

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It's been a while without the rookie so between the fanfics, the wishes for chenford and the ideas of what chenford could be and others shows who focus more on relationships, maybe it got lost that the rookie isn't as angsty that what some peoples think it is right now. Angela/wesley for the past 3 seasons, nolan/bailey in s4 with the ex husband, they got their up and downs but they don't break up. Once they have their endgames the show don't throw breakups for the fun or angst of it. The show priorites isn't relationships dramas, if it was they could have done SO MUCH MORE in s4 with chris,ashley and chenford. This is also why I respectfully don't understand peoples who think a breakup would be fun for angst because the only angst you'll have is them looking at each other for 3 sec if we are lucky like in 5x3 and then they'd be off doing their cops things. Waiting week after weeks for this would be boring and annoying as hell after waiting 5 years. And I know some peoples are worried about it, but a breakup wouldn't be spoiled.

Honestly, I just think people were simply stating what they wished to see. Someone asked them a question and they answered. It was about their preferences… I know that when I received a similar ask in the past, the logistics of the show didn't necessarily factor in my reply.

I can't speak for anyone who would like to see a breakup - or anyone else for that matter - but I think it's pretty fair to assume that what they want is a separation that makes sense, that is properly developed, with decent screentime and a real storyline that involves far more than just 3 seconds of pining here and there. The same way I want to see Lucy and Tim face some ups and downs : it's under the assumption that it is going to be written in a beautiful way and not rushed. And it is technically doable. Take episodes 5.08 to 5.12 for instance : Tim and Lucy had a fair amount of screentime dedicated to their relationship. The writers could easily use that same amount for a more angsty storyline or a breakup. Especially if it's related to UC : it could be linked to a case. A bit like 5.20 and 5.21. Though a shorter season does present a bigger challenge, that's for sure.

And you're right, the show doesn't really do 'breakups/reconciliation' storylines. Actually, it doesn't really do 'breakups'… Rachel, Gino and Isaac are still waiting for one. Jokes aside, the show did have a storyline like this for Wesley/Angela, but that was at the very beginning… I don't know if Bailey/Nolan broke up once it was revealed she was still married, but since it was solved by the next episode, I guess it's a moot point. Same with Nyla/James. And with her sleeping with her ex-husband, there was a reason to go there (though I'm grateful we were spared a 'who's the father' storyline). All these arcs could have been much more dramatic, that's for sure. So far, the show hasn't really leaned into that side. That's why I'm a bit sceptical that they would do a plotline like this. On the other hand, Tim and Lucy's relationship has been far more developed… So it wouldn't be completely beyond the realms of possibility either.

I also doubt that Eric would spoil something like that. More than once. Then again, this is the same guy who made a video last year with his new uniform, spoiling his promotion in the process. So who knows?! I have to say though, the timing of this makes me curious. As far I can tell, he only started talking about breakups after he was directly asked about his opinion on the matter. Not before. I mean, I may be wrong on the timeline here since I don't check his cameos. But that's the way it appeared to me. It could be that he received more information in-between… In which case, talk about perfect timing. That said, I get why some would rather be prepared or are worried. That's not my place to judge them.

(I won't take the risk of tagging anyone here, not in this volatile atmosphere, but feel free to pitch in or correct me).

#ask & ye shall receive #the rookie #chenford

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kiefbowl · 2 years

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Congratulations on your job!! I wonder if you have any advice: I’m 24, graduated during the pandemic with a BS and have been working full time from home for the last 1.5 years. I didn’t love what I studied but thought it would lend itself to law school or med school but I really don’t think that’s what I want to do. I want a good paying job and my family is pushing me to do computer science which I think I wouldn’t like or would be too stupid to do (same with medicine). idk what to do I don’t want to hate my job but I also think it’s silly to say money isn’t important and run off to Hollywood to be an actor. i just don’t know what I like and am afraid of spending money on a degree I won’t enjoy or be good at. I’m also just so lonely and unhappy I feel like I’m waiting for my life to get better or actually start but idk what to do! I feel paralyzed by fear of the future and fear of failure that I don’t actually do anything, whether that’s career stuff or even hobbies that I want to try! I’m so frustrated with myself like ugh why can’t I just do things!!

keep in mind, any work experience you get is a building block. Having a job now doesn't mean it's your job forever, or your career. 24 is a perfect age to be "funemployed" and take a lower paying, lower stakes job so you can prioritize taking stock and having some fun. and who knows, that lower paying, lower stakes job could turn into a career. every coffee shop needs a manager, every delivery job needs someone running logistics. I have friends who have been bartending for over 10 years now and that's their career, and there are downsides and perks. they have months where they make bank and make more than me, and the longer you work industry jobs, the more ritzy places open up as options. the brief time I did apartment leasing (I made 0 money and quit lol), everyone who was making a career out of it made their money in the summer (a lot) and then gig jobs the rest of the year. They had such amazing flexibility in their lives but also they were running themselves as a business and had to manage their own taxes.

The point I'm making is your job/career needs to support your life, and it's okay if it feels overwhelming because you're young enough to not really know all the ways you want your life to be. There's a balance of stability and flexibility, and there's a balance of working for someone and working for yourself. But the longer you work, no matter what you're doing, the more opportunities open up for improving skills, getting promoted, learning more of the industry and business. And every job you do has transferable skills, so doing six months at really shitty place can feel like a lifetime but eventually it's over and you move on and that was the job you learned some canned phrases for dealing with shitty customers or whatever. Through working, though starting at the bottom and working hard (or hardly working lol), you'll learn more about what makes you comfortable at a job and hitting that mid career level doesn't actually take that long. Get a couple promotions at one place and you can start putting "supervisor" "manager" "consultant" etc on your resume, and start creating the promotion for yourself by getting jobs at other places. No matter where you are in your career, it always takes time and you're not going to snap your fingers and get a new job the second you want it.

Don't fear failure because failure's going to come to you in one way or another, and then you survive it. Make sure you're keeping in touch with people because friends are great ways to get referred into companies, and ask people in their 40s/50s/60s what their career path has been. Every single one of them is going to have a different story, and they'll have choices they had to make, planned decisions, and also some dumb luck. People will say I was doing data analysis for 10 years at the same company, I thought it was so boring, so I decided to become a dentist at 37. Or someone will say I was bouncing from bar to bar, and then my friend needed someone to copywrite at their new startup and so I helped them out for a couple years and one thing lead to another now I'm an editor. Or someone will say I knew I wanted to be a lawyer like my mom since I was five, so I did that I never stopped doing that. But it's great listening to these stories you realize how many ways there are to live and so much of it is in your hands.

So good luck, keep your head remind yourself some of this can be fun and be your own number one cheerleader.

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theotherartblog · 2 years

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The concept of Maul paper dolls started as a joke but turned into a surprisingly fun way to spend a few days of snowy, forced inactivity. I enjoy the silly ones; I foresee more of those!

#maul #darth maul #paper dolls #clothing #star wars fanart #fanart #star wars silliness #star wars silliness to the max #digital art #fun and nonsense #mix and matchable!#though logistics were not really prioritized

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ratloafs · 2 years

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Marjoram Blossoms Chapter 1

Chapter Title: Long Drive Home Word Count: 1,242 Rating: T Themes: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Gen Characters: Arsene Lupin III, Daisuke Jigen, Goemon Ishikawa XIII Warnings: References to torture and injury Chapter Summary: Lupin and Jigen take care of Goemon after his run-in with Wolf and Rose. Notes: This work is my interpretation of the aftermath of episode 112 of part 2. Can also be found on my AO3 here.

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Lupin is not a man to admit his faults. But, Goemon making a playful jab at him-despite having been subjected to a brutalization that made bile well up in Lupin's throat-that, admittedly, caught him off guard. Goemon was in surprisingly good spirits, still able to laugh and smile despite being in amounts of pain that Lupin didn't want to think about. That pain has the samurai lolling in and out of consciousness. It was all at once too painful to rest, but so painful that he was perpetually passing out. Jigen, with Zantetsuken in his other hand, would give Goemon's shoulder the occasional comforting pat and made light conversation in an attempt to keep Goemon's mind occupied. Though, Goemon's most frequent responses were simple, "mmhs," and, "nmhs," from both pain and exhaustion.

"We're almost to the car. We'll clean you up, and then we'll get you to a doctor, I promise." Lupin chimes. Goemon offers no verbal reply outside of a quiet noise and a half hearted nuzzle into Lupin's shoulder. But, Lupin takes that as a sign of happiness. He's thankful Goemon is at least somewhat alert and responsive. He'd be more worried if Goemon was too quiet. Which would be funny in any situation aside from one like this, considering how quiet Goemon usually is.

The rest of the walk is relatively quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional bird and conversation. Lupin prioritizes trying to move Goemon as little as possible, so he kindly rejects Jigen's offer to carry Goemon for the final stretch. It's not that Lupin is in the habit of carrying Goemon, but he's had to shoulder his weight on a few occasions. He can't really explain why, but, Goemon feels a bit lighter than he should be. It gives him a feeling he can't describe, like a furious boiling in the middle of his chest that continues to swell and expand like a balloon being inflated. Lupin doesn't have much time to dwell on his emotions as they arrive at the car, hidden by dense foliage.

Lupin turns around to start to lay Goemon into the car, only to realize the logistical issue that comes with having your hands full with another person, "Can you give me a hand, Jigen?" The gunslinger is more than happy to help, laying Zantetsuken in the front seat before moving to Lupin's aid. Jigen crawls into the back, standing in the space between the front and back seat. Jigen places a hand gingerly on Goemon's upper back and another on the small of his back. He gives Lupin a nod, and Lupin in turn slowly begins to lean back and rest Goemon in Jigen's arms.

It's a delicate operation, with both of them trying to limit the amount of movement, and consequently, the amount of pain Goemon will be in. Jigen begins to kneel as he takes on more and more of Goemon's body weight, and prepares to lay him down. Gently, Lupin rests Goemon's calves on the edge of the car so that he can turn around and crawl into the backseat as well. Lupin loops one arm under under Goemon's thighs and another under his calves and motions with his head for Jigen to start scooting back. As Jigen inches back, Lupin follows, working to get all of Goemon into the car. Through careful maneuvering, they reach a point where Goemon will be comfortably centered in the seat. Though as if the samurai were a porcelain doll, Jigen and Lupin start to lay him down, trying to move and time it so that he'll be laid down all at once.

Goemon makes a noise of mild discomfort when he comes into contact with the seat, but the pain fades once he adjusts to the pressure on his back. Lupin shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over Goemon as Jigen crawls out of the back. Given how tattered Goemon's clothes are, it at least covers him up a little and will keep him a bit warmer. It makes a difference to Lupin, and that's what matters to him in the end.

"Help me pull up the cover, Jigen." A bit of an odd request, considering there's not a raincloud in sight, but Jigen has no qualms with Lupin's wishes. It only takes a few seconds to draw the cover over and click it into place. Jigen slides into the passenger seat, his leg knocking into Zantetsuken. Jigen blinks for a second before smiling and taking the sword into his hand. He gingerly slots it between Goemon's arm and his body. Instinctively, Goemon brings his sword a little closer.

"Heh. I thought something was missing." Jigen's gaze lingers on Goemon for a moment before he leans back in his seat, legs up on the dash with his arms behind his back, elbows up. Lupin hops in, making himself comfortable before looking over his shoulder.

"You just take a nice, long nap, okay? You've earned it." Lupin offers Goemon a gentle smile before he turns the key in the ignition and turns onto the road that led up to the castle, this time, heading away. Lupin fiddles with the radio dial until he finds the station that Goemon likes. On an average day, Lupin would qualify Goemon's preferences as elevator music. But, Lupin's finding that it's helping him to relax.

"This isn't really your taste in music, Lupin." Jigen comments, fumbling around in his jacket pocket to fish out his packet of cigarettes.

"It's not for me." Lupin looks up into the rearview mirror, seeing Goemon dozing peacefully. Maybe he'll sleep for the whole ride and never hear so much as a note. But, Lupin doesn't really care if he hears two notes or two thousand, Goemon deserves as much comfort as Lupin can afford him right now.

Jigen pulls out his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, and blinks when Lupin snags a smoke before he can. Smirking, he lights Lupin's cigarette before treating himself to his own. Jigen nurses his cigarette for a few minutes, idly watching the scenery around him move past before he speaks, "So, where are we headed to?"

"I've got a hideout about five hours from here. We're gonna patch Goemon up the best we can with what we've got there." Lupin takes a long drag from his cigarette and pauses before speaking again, "Then, I'm gonna find Goemon the best doctor, surgeon, whatever, that money can buy." Jigen nods, having no objections to Lupin's plans.

"Sorry if bringing this up is in poor taste." Jigen starts, "But I can't forget the look you had on your face when we snuck into the castle and you first saw Goemon," Jigen pauses to take another drag from his cigarette, "You looked ready to kill, Lupin."

"I don't like killing, Jigen. It's messy." Lupin pauses for a moment, trying to find his words, "But, if Rose and Wolf had-if Goemon-." Lupin doesn't want to speak the words. He's not superstitious, but it feels ill to even imagine the alternative outcomes and think in hypotheticals, "If Goemon hadn't been there for me to keep my composure-." Lupin's grip on the steering wheel tightens, and that familiar sensation returns. His whole body feels like it's running hot and his heart starts beating a little faster. A wild look settles in Lupin's eyes as he puffs on his cigarette.

"I think I would have lost it."

#Marjoram Blossoms #lupin the third #jigen daisuke #arsene lupin iii #goemon ishikawa xiii

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missing-marvel · 3 years

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The Shape of You (Pt. 4)

Pairing: Vision/Reader

Part 3, Part 5

Words: 5698

A/N: *shows up several months late with coffee and a new chapter* What’s up y’all, who’s ready for more metal husband?

You awoke feeling sluggish and hazy, practically choking on dust and resisting the need to sneeze. The feeling quickly shifted to panic as you opened your eyes to even more darkness which only worsened when you tried to move, something blocking the space in front of you as well as tangling around your legs. It wasn’t until you rolled to the floor with a loud ‘thud’ that you remembered falling asleep on the sofa. You didn’t remember grabbing a blanket, however, which had gotten wrapped around your legs in your sleep.

You recognized Vision’s silhouette as he appeared hurriedly from the other room. You couldn’t see much in the dim light, but you could recognize him by his eyes alone. They glowed softly in the dark, that electric-blue bringing some familiarity to your surroundings.

The lights came on and you were momentarily blinded, shielding your eyes with your hand as they adjusted. “Sorry,” you said, blinking the last remnants of sleep away. “I just fell off the sofa. I’m okay.” You took a good look around the room for the first time since arriving, still not bothering to get up off the floor. It looked like a fairly basic living space. There was a patterned rug, a coffee table, some shelves with a few random knick-knacks, the usual. You did notice the lack of a TV, however. You supposed it wasn’t worth investing in one if no one would be living here ninety-nine percent of the time.

Still a bit groggy, you almost didn’t see Vision walk over to you and extend a hand to help you up. To be completely honest, you were perfectly comfortable on the floor but you weren’t going to turn him away. You uttered a quick ‘thanks’ as you got to your feet.

You had absolutely no idea what time it was but it was definitely dark out. Not a speck of light filtered in through the drawn curtains. Whether it was evening or early morning, however, you hadn’t a clue. “What time is it?”

Vision pointed to a digital clock sitting on a bookshelf close by. It read 6:30.

“I only slept for a few hours?” Well, more like several hours, by your estimate. It was broad daylight when you’d arrived. Still, that was surprising given that you’d basically passed out as soon as you got indoors and hadn’t slept in like two days.

Vision shook his head, however, cutting off your train of thought. He held up one finger on his right hand and put it down before holding up nine in total. It took you a second to understand what he meant, thinking he was saying ten before realizing.

“Are you saying I slept nineteen hours?” Vision just nodded and you let out a sigh. That explained why you felt so stiff. That much time on a sofa, even a surprisingly comfortable one, would take its toll. One other thing struck you, however. “Wait a minute, so it’s six in the morning, then? It’s awfully dark out.” You chanced a peek out the window to actually confirm that it was, in fact, dark outside.

You turned back when you heard the familiar scratch of pen on paper. It looked like Vision had found a new notepad somewhere. By the time you walked over, he had finished writing. “Clock is an hour ahead. Haven’t fixed it. Only got power back on a couple hours ago.”

“Oh, that makes more sense.” This time of year, it was perfectly normal to be dark at 5:30. However, it was also cold outside and you were beginning to notice that in here as well. You picked up the blanket off the floor and draped it over your shoulders, pulling it tight around yourself. “Is there heat at all?”

Vision wrote his response as quick as possible, handwriting still impeccable as always. “It’s on but not very strong. Building isn’t in best condition anymore. There’s fuses missing so I prioritized some things. A few lights aren’t going to work.” He stepped aside and gestured somewhere down the small hallway behind him. On the wall was an open panel.

“Wait this place still has a fuse box? The Avengers couldn’t afford someplace with circuit breakers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your own joke, if you could really call it that. You were just happy your custodial knowledge was relevant for once.

“Old SHIELD building,” Vision quickly noted. If this place had been built by the Avengers, it would be far more modern, probably to an unnecessary extent. Tony Stark would only stand for the best, even if it was a safe house that would almost never get used.

“Shield? Are they still around?” You only sort of understood what SHIELD was. No more than any other member of the general public. They were a kind-of, sort-of government agency or something like that. They always kept their stuff super secret so most people never really knew what they did. Then there was the whole deal with Hydra which nobody understood. You decided a long time ago it wasn’t worth worrying about, much like most of the American populace. Perhaps you should have paid closer attention.

Vision simply tilted his hand side-to-side in a gesture that implied that the answer was complicated and really not worth getting into. He shifted the conversation to you instead. “How are you feeling?”

“I should be asking you that. You weren’t doing so well yesterday.” You tried not to let the worry in your voice show, though you weren’t sure what good it would do.

You thought you saw a hint of a smile cross his face as he turned back to his paper. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.”

“Vision...” You recalled back to the other night, when you’d told him nearly the same thing after a couple solid days of no sleep. Before you could retort, however, he’d turned and headed toward the other room, gesturing for you to follow.

The small office space was an absolute mess. The only reason you called it an office was the papers and folders scattered around the room as well as the computer tucked away on a desk in the corner. Underneath a blanket of dust, it looked almost exactly like the first computer you’d ever owned. Actually, it might just be the first computer. You were pretty sure it should be in a museum.

Vision navigated the difficult terrain with ease as he made his way to the desk. You, on the other hand, felt like you were doing a balancing act as you tried to limit your steps to the few parts of the floor that were visible. You didn’t know what all these stacks of papers and folders were exactly, but you figured it was best not to mess with them.

“There’s no way that thing works,” you said once you’d cleared a spot to stand by the desk, your own little island of shag carpeting amongst the sea of paper.

Vision pried open a panel on the side of the computer, carefully removing a CPU board with all the expertise of a seasoned technician. The actual monitor was half buried in a pile of miscellaneous cords and plugs next to the desk. After a brief moment of inspection, wherein he must’ve decided all appeared fine, he went ahead and booted the thing up.

It chugged to life like a patient coming out of surgery, slowly and with great difficulty. It made sounds you were pretty sure should only be coming from a lawn mower but all the lights eventually blinked on in time. As it did so, you braved the sneeze-inducing dust pile for the monitor, the air turning cloudy as you shifted all the junk that had been untouched for years. “I’m guessing you’ll need this?” You hoisted the dinosaur of a monitor up onto the desk, Vision taking it gratefully and nodding a thanks your way.

For a minute after he plugged it in, it seemed the screen wasn’t going to work. Only after staring at it did you realize it was working, albeit extremely slowly. A symbol was appearing on the screen, the shape becoming more discernible the longer the machine whirred. As far you could tell, it looked like some kind of government emblem, like an eagle with a crest in the center. It wasn’t until it had spent a solid minute loading that you were able to read the text surrounding it. “Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement... Logistics Division? What on Earth does— wait, that’s what SHIELD stands for?”

Vision nodded in a way that suggested he wasn’t overly fond of the acronym either. You were beginning to think he wasn’t so difficult to read after all, not like you thought when you’d first met, at least. It just took time, much like reading the decades-old monitor had.

“I think someone just really wanted the initials to spell out shield.” You gave a breathy laugh, more air than sound. “What’re you going to do with this old thing? Can it even get internet?”

Vision shook his head and reached for his paper from the edge of the desk. “Not that kind of computer,” he wrote. You resisted butting in as he tore off a new sheet, still not used to the pauses in conversation that resulted from the rather roundabout method of communication. “It’s wired directly into an old SHIELD system and by extension, hopefully, the Avengers emergency system.”

“Really? I would’ve guessed this place predated the Avengers.” As you spoke, Vision got the keyboard hooked up which had been stuffed into one of the desk drawers. It was missing at least a quarter of its key caps, the really chunky, old kind that made a satisfying click-clack when pressed. Apparently they’d prioritized actual computer hardware over keyboards considering there were offices at your job that still had keyboards just like it. Correction: your old job. You’d almost forgotten.

“SHIELD software was integrated with Stark tech after the Battle of New York. In theory, we should be able to put out an emergency signal on a secure Avengers server from here.” You almost hadn’t noticed Vision writing again as you zoned out a bit.

You would’ve been more excited over good news, but you’d learned over the years what happened when you got your hopes up. “So when you say in theory, I’m guessing the odds aren’t exactly...” You trailed off, unable to continue without sounding horribly pessimistic.

“It will work,” was all he wrote, a noticeable firmness in his grip as he held the pen. You didn’t say anything else but moved closer to the desk, directly by his side now. There was what could only be described as a hint of doubt in his expression before he turned back to the monitor as green text cluttered the screen.

“We can only hope so.” You let your hand brush his shoulder as you navigated back towards the door, no longer particularly caring to avoid crumpling the paper on the floor.

You weren’t sure how long it would take Vision to finish what he was doing, especially with the tech he was stuck with. You found it more than a bit ironic that possibly the most advanced machine on the planet had to use a decades-old computer to call for help. It felt weird to think of him as a machine. After what you’d been through in the past 24 hours alone, you’d begun to think of him as just another person. Well, not just another person, that wasn’t what you meant. How to put it...? You just couldn’t explain it. There was no precedent in your mind for a situation like this. Vision was a living being. As alive as anyone, maybe more so. That much you could say confidently.

Trying not to get too lost in your thoughts, you busied yourself investigating the rest of the apartment, not that there was much to find. Living room, connected kitchen, hallway with the office and stairs that led up to a bedroom and bathroom. All pretty standard. All of it looked fresh out of the 80’s. Well, maybe not fresh.

Just as you completed your lap of the place, you were interrupted by a low grumble from none other than your own stomach. That was a problem. There was definitely not food here. You had no other choice really than to shove the feeling to the back of your mind for now. You got yourself a glass of water to make do. At least the plumbing worked.

By the time Vision came back, it had been less than twenty minutes. “That was quick. Any success?” You sipped your water, ignoring the slight metallic tang it had.

Vision wrote as he crossed the room to stand opposite you from the island counter. “The beacon is active. Now someone just needs to hear it.”

Despite his lack of vocals, you sensed a definite lack of confidence in his words. “How long do you think that’ll take?” You hoped not too long. You were concerned about your food situation.

He didn’t bother writing a response. The expression on his face made it clear; he had no idea. Maybe never, if no one was out there to hear it. You only hummed a response, neither confirming nor retorting. The sound of you sipping your water seemed immensely loud in the heavy silence of the room.

“Well, what do we do now?” You were becoming anxious again. You didn’t like being forced to sit and wait. At any minute, you felt like law enforcement would start breaking the door down.

“We wait. There’s nothing else we can do.” He seemed apologetic. He wished he could give you a more concrete answer, some sort of assurance that this would all work out, but he couldn’t. Not truthfully, anyway.

It looked like you had some time to kill. You weren’t sure what all there really was to do. Still, it wasn’t all bad. At least you had company. “I wonder if there’s a better way we can communicate,” you mused, turning your mind to less dire matters.

Vision seemed to brighten up a bit as he was struck by an idea. “You don’t happen to know any ASL, do you?”

You shook your head. “Unfortunately, no. I assume you do?”

He responded by holding up his right hand in a closed fist and sort of nodded it up and down.

“I’m guessing that means... yes?” It wasn’t a far stretch. You’d actually thought about learning ASL before but never gotten around to it. There were more uses for it than people realized. Too bad work left you too busy and tired to make the time for lessons. Well now you had nothing but time.

Vision just nodded his head in the more familiar interpretation of the word. He grabbed the pen and paper again off the counter. “I could teach you some. At least the important parts, if you want.” He hesitated a split second between sentences, just a bit nervous, though the pause was nowhere near long enough for you to notice. It was barely a stutter in his programming, a single digit skipped somewhere in his code. Nothing to be concerned with.

“Yeah,” you said, maybe just slightly too enthusiastic. “Yeah, that’d be great! I— I mean, it would be useful, you know? Way more efficient than pen and paper. Uhm...” You were struggling to ask how he wanted to start when your stomach growled, providing a convenient segue into another topic. “Heh, sorry. Didn’t realize how hungry I was.” You tried to pass it off as no big deal, although you really were starving. You hadn’t eaten anything since before setting Vision free. It had been well over a full day since then.

He looked surprised for a moment, which he was, before he began writing. For a genius super-computer, he could sometimes be very forgetful of the needs of his human cohorts. They were very fragile things, humans. The need for sleep and food was something Vision never had to worry about, something he realized he took for granted. Something akin to guilt began to gnaw at him when he too realized how long it had been since the escape. He should’ve brought up the matter earlier. “We need to get you food,” he wrote very matter-of-factly. It wasn’t something up for debate.

“I don’t exactly have a lot of cash on me, Vis.” You flinched at the nickname, quick to move on before he could call you out on it. It had been merely a slip of the tongue, just shortening his name for the sake of convenience. It could have been a gesture of friendship towards the android, though you weren’t sure you’d quite earned the right to call Vision a friend, even if you were fond of him. “I’ve got like 10 bucks, tops.” You pulled a few crumpled bills from your pockets to emphasize your point. You obviously couldn’t use your credit card, either. You’d seen enough movies to know that.

Vision thought a moment before coming up with an idea. “It’s not the most ethical thing to do, but I could get cash out of an ATM. It’s technically a matter of survival, after all.” He demonstrated exactly what he meant by phasing his hand through the paper as you read, something that could just as easily be done to a cash machine.

It wasn’t so much the legality of the idea that bothered you. After all, you’d stolen multiple cars. It was the matter of Vision’s safety. Not that he couldn’t protect himself but he would be spotted quite easily if he went outside. That was just a matter of fact. And if someone called the police on a strange magenta man or anything along the lines of ‘robot,’ you could pretty much guarantee trouble. “I don’t know... What if someone sees you? The last thing we want is to compromise the safe house. I can just wait awhile longer, I’ll be fine.”

Your stomach chose that moment to grumble again, completely undermining your point. Vision shot you a look that more than sufficed to communicate what he was thinking but he wrote it down anyway. “It would seem we don’t have much of a choice.”

You sighed, all but forced to agree. Although, it would be nice to get some actual food before your stomach started eating itself. “Fine,” you relented. “But we wait until it gets dark out. It’s safer that way.”

Vision wasn’t about to argue.

Memorization wasn’t really your strong suit, but you seemed to do surprisingly well with the start of your sign language lessons. It helped that your teacher was so patient.

Vision thought it would be best to start with a few simple phrases for the sake of saving paper. Common things such as ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you.’ You had the benefit of only really needing to recognize them as opposed to being able to do the signs yourself, since Vision could obviously hear you, but you took it upon yourself to mimic the gestures anyway.

It had been a few hours and your head was starting to ache but you insisted on continuing. You were certain you were doing well and you wanted Vision to be impressed. Not only could you remember how to spell your own name, you could spell his as well. The rest of the alphabet may not have stuck as much but oh well. For now, words and phrases were more important.

“That’s... someone?” You guessed as Vision held up his index finger and waved it in a sort of circle. He’d been quizzing you for a few minutes now, to which you’d done pretty well. He shook his head this time, however, and tried not to look amused by the almost comically offended look on your face. “What? Yes it is! I’m certain that means ‘someone!’” You were insistent on the fact. Vision hadn’t tried to trip you up yet but he must be this time. You tried to mimic the motion, repeating the word as if that would change anything.

He shook his head again, not bothering to hide his smile this time. He reached for your hand, raising it higher to show you that there was, in fact, a slight difference between what he was signing and what you were. For a moment, you looked almost startled, like a deer in headlights. He didn’t miss the hint of color that tinged your cheeks. His assumption was merely that you were embarrassed by your mistake, though it was an easy one to make. He switched back to paper in order to explain. “This,” he repeated his first gesture. “means ‘always’. What you signed was ‘someone.’ See the difference?”

You nodded in understanding although your attention was beginning to drift. You felt like you were cramming for an exam in a class you hadn’t been attending. You may or may not have actually had to do that before. The point was, you’d learned just about all you were going to for the day. And just in time, it seemed, as you glanced toward the curtains, no longer backlit by the afternoon sun. You’d managed to kill most of the day, between checking that the computer was still working and just generally talking with Vision. There wasn’t much else to do, not that you were complaining. You were quite enjoying the android’s company and not just because you were stuck with him. And to top it off, you’d managed to distract yourself from how hungry you were. Until now, that is.

“How about we call it a day on the lessons, hm? I’d say now’s about the best time to head outside. There’s just one thing we have to do first.” You turned and exited the room without explanation, only saying you’d be right back. You ran upstairs to the bedroom, hoping you could find what you needed. You hadn’t voiced your plan to Vision, although you saw no reason for him not to go along with it. It was a smart idea if you said so yourself. At least that’s what you told yourself as you began rifling through drawers.

Vision wasn’t sure what to think at first when you came bumbling down the stairs again with a messily folded bundle in your hands. But your intention became clear quite quickly once you’d returned, immediately holding out the clothes to him before bothering to explain.

“I hope this isn’t rude but you kind of… stand out. I just thought, maybe it’d be a good idea to disguise yourself. Just for safety. Is that okay?” You hoped there was no offense taken by the gesture. In truth, you were glad Vision was going with you and not just because of the money thing. You didn’t feel particularly safe walking the streets alone at night, especially when you didn’t know the area. But having Vision by your side made you feel nigh invincible. There was just the small issue of technically being wanted criminals.

He smiled, more to himself than anything. It was just strange, he thought, how concerned you were with his opinion. Of course he wasn’t offended. It was a smart idea. He chuckled a bit, although it was a strange action given his physical state. The motion of a laugh was there, his shoulders shuddering as any human’s would despite his lack of need to actually breathe, but there was no sound. It was one of those mannerisms that was ingrained in his programming, though he wasn’t sure quite where it came from. Not from Jarvis, certainly, since the AI had no physical form, and Ultron likely hadn’t been terribly focused on such gestures at the time of his creation. In reality, it was simply something he’d picked up on his own, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

You let out a breathy chuckle of your own as he took the clothes, glad to see he agreed with you wholeheartedly. He got dressed quickly, leaving only his face visible when he was done. Luckily, it was cold enough outside for him to get away with wearing gloves, a scarf and a hat. The clothes were a bit old-fashioned but in a professional way. The long wool coat and slacks in particular gave the impression of a scholarly type, perhaps even a professor. You couldn’t help but think it was a good look for him.

“Well don’t you look just dashing,” you teased. You’d found a coat for yourself as well, deciding your own jacket wasn’t going to be enough. You silently thanked whatever SHIELD employee set this place up for supplying a myriad of spare clothes. “Oh, one more thing.” You turned to the coat rack by the door, grabbing a scarf that had been left hanging there. “Just in case.”

You hesitated at the front door. Despite the fact that you were merely going to look for a convenience store or something similar, your anxiety spiked as though it were a dangerous mission. You could just imagine all the ways you could get caught. It was almost enough to make you stay here, slowly starving to death waiting for something to happen. Vision noticed your apprehension, however, and did the first thing that came to mind to soothe your worries. He gave you a warm smile, holding out a bent arm for you to take. He thought you might find the somewhat old-fashioned gesture funny and he was right. You laughed, taking his arm anyway. It was a nice reminder that the odds of anything bad happening were tremendously low, which you mentally repeated to yourself as you stepped outside.

Everything had gone off without a hitch. There was a small grocery store a few blocks down which you’d run into just before closing time so the store was nearly empty. Vision had waited outside near the ATM, which had provided the funds you needed. Other than the bored clerk at the store, you hadn’t seen so much as a single soul this whole trip. By the time you and Vision were walking back, burdened by just a few days worth of groceries (which would ideally be more than enough), your previous worries had all but melted away.

You only wished the weather matched the feeling. Nothing was melting in this cold. In fact, a few snowflakes had begun to fall. They were almost mesmerizing under the blueish haze of the streetlights, whipped into a frenzy by the faintest of gusts. The sight wasn’t enough of a distraction, however. You couldn’t help it when a shiver wracked your body, your coat not doing nearly enough to prevent it. Vision noticed this, however, and stopped you both in your tracks.

He was quick to reach for the paper and pen in his coat pocket, a look on his face of more concern than you thought necessary. It was only a little chill. “Are you cold?” The question wasn’t particularly necessary, the answer being obvious. Still, it was polite to ask.

You tried to shrug it off, noticeably tensing to suppress a second shiver. “I’m fine. Let’s just hurry back.” You turned to keep walking, knowing there was still a decent walk ahead but he stopped you, putting a hand on your arm for the briefest of seconds. He just looked at you a moment, seeming to forget about his paper. You caught the faintest hint of conflict in his expression, though you didn’t know why. “What is it, Vision?”

Realizing he’d made you worry, Vision seemed to snap back to his senses. He gave you a reassuring smile and reached for his scarf, undoing it quickly. You were facing him, standing close enough to see the circuitry in his eyes. He paused again, however, debating his next action. For a being that didn’t have nerves, he sure felt nervous and didn’t fully understand why. He moved at a pace far slower than he was used to, hesitantly wrapping the scarf around your neck for you. His touch was light as a feather as if he were afraid to touch you. You could do nothing but watch him, lost in the details of his eyes and face as your grip on the grocery bags began to loosen involuntarily. There was a moment where neither of you moved, his hands still lingering on the loose fabric of the scarf.

Your heart skipped a beat at the gesture, mind racing to find a logical conclusion that didn’t concern such things as the vague and confusing emotions that spiked in your chest just then. It was cold, so Vision gave you his scarf. Your hands were full, so he put it on for you. But what you couldn’t answer was why he lingered the way that he did and more importantly, why your chest began to feel tight in a way that wasn’t as unpleasant as you’d think. The most sensible reason you could think of was that he was simply a gentleman, and perhaps a little unfamiliar with personal boundaries. That was the only possibility you had the strength to consider. Anything else would open doors you were afraid to even imagine.

Footsteps scraping heavily against the pavement cut the tender, if rather nerve-filled moment short. You turned toward the sound, though Vision remained facing slightly away, bowing his head somewhat in an attempt to conceal himself. You froze when a figure emerged from the alleyway; a heavy-set man whose posture listed to one side, most likely from some kind of injury. His clothes were noticeably old and ragged, most definitely not warm enough for this weather. You would’ve asked him if he needed help were it not for the knife he brandished at you.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” he said, his voice wavering. Funny, you were just about to say the same thing. Clearly, he wouldn’t be doing this unless he was desperate and in a bad situation. Unfortunately, you weren’t much better off. “I saw you, I know you have cash. Just hand it over and no one gets hurts.”

Under normal circumstances you would’ve complied but you’d used up pretty much all the cash you got and you couldn’t risk giving him your wallet. If your ID found its way into police hands there’d be government agents swarming this place before you ever got the chance to bail. “We don’t have any money left, I swear. Please, just walk away.” You moved slowly, setting the grocery bags on the ground and raising your hands in surrender without making any sudden movements that could set him off. You weren’t as afraid as you probably should’ve been, choosing to try and reason with the man rather than flee, which would probably be the smarter option.

The man stepped closer to you, his grip on the knife visibly tightening. He was nearly within arm’s reach now which wasn’t ideal but you held your ground. Vision caught the man’s movement out of the corner of his eye, his hand reflexively grabbing at your arm protectively. The man furrowed his brow, glancing between the two of you in confusion. At this distance, even without Vision facing him, he could almost definitely tell something was strange here. Having given you his scarf, the only things covering Vision’s face were a hat and upturned coat collar. You spoke up again, drawing the man’s attention before he could get too close of a look. “This doesn’t have to get messy. Please… ”

You weren’t sure exactly how long the three of you stood there, time frozen around you. The only things that moved were the snowflakes that had grown more frequent in the past couple minutes. The man finally shifted, albeit barely, one foot scraping harshly against the concrete as he braced himself. He glanced between you and Vision again, jaw clenched tightly. “I ain’t walking away empty-handed. I can’t. Just gimme your damn wallet.”

Vision tugged gently on your arm. You weren’t sure exactly what he was trying to say, either trying to pull you closer to him or signal that you should run. You didn’t think running was a good idea. You feared Vision’s injuries acting up again and you didn’t want to test your own speed either. You turned back to the man, desperately pleading at this point. “I can’t …”

“Then I’ll just have to take it from you.” He didn’t give you another chance to argue, immediately lunging at you haphazardly. He couldn’t even get close to hitting you, however, as Vision’s reflexes were far superior to the man’s. The android grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully to the side and forcing him to drop the knife. The man yelped and threw a punch at Vision, who dodged it easily. The man didn’t seem to understand just how drastically outmatched he was, not even now that he had a clear view of Vision’s face. Whatever was going through his head, he still seemed to think fighting was his best option. He took another swing at Vision who, up until this point, had no intention of fighting back. But he was left with few other options. He pushed back against his attacker, sending the man sprawling to the ground with a painful ‘smack’ as he hit the pavement. There was genuine fear in his eyes when he looked back up at the two of you.

“Vis, we gotta go.” It was you holding his arm now, pleading with him to leave. He nodded quickly, completely in agreement. The two of you paused only long enough to scoop up the dropped grocery bags before making your escape. The man didn’t dare follow you as you disappeared down a side street, desperate to avoid any more prying eyes. This was the exact sort of thing you’d been afraid of when you’d left the safe house. You could only hope the man kept his mouth shut about what he’d witnessed tonight but it seemed luck may not be on your side.

A/N: I want to mention that I don’t personally know much ASL and had to rely on videos, etc. so if anything at all is wrong, I apologize. Feel free to call me out.

#vision/reader #vision x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction

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mvnvgedmischief · 3 years

Text

unremarkable days.

summary: sirius black is trying to be a good man, a good brother, a good person. Sirius has a steady job designing book covers for a publishing house, a flat he never leaves, and a traumatized brother who was just removed from the custody of his parents. All in all, it's wildly unremarkable.

chapter: 4/?

characters: sirius black, regulus black, wolfstar, background marauders

tags: tw: canon compliant abuse, child abuse, social services, abuse

words: 3. 8 k

read it on ao3 here

read the last chapter here

Sirius knew that work was going to be high stress all day. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about the way he would continuously have to talk to people, when all he wanted was some peace. He wanted downtime. Time when he didn’t have to think about how he needed his paycheck to put food on the table, clothes on his brother’s back, pay bills to keep his lights on, wifi for homework. Regulus occupied his thoughts at all times, protecting him was Sirius’s only priority these days. He didn’t have time for anything else. Not his friends, not his interests, not music. Nothing could come between his focus and his brother’s wellbeing, because if it did, Sirius would never forgive himself. The consequences were too dire. So instead, he just wished for downtime that wouldn’t come, and prayed for the weekend to approach even faster.

The weekend, when he could finally sleep again, albeit not well. The weekend, when he had the time to take a breath, even if it was only brief. Because his weekends were also spent finding ways to better equip his apartment for his younger brother, going to long grocery runs so Regulus had lunch to take to school, meal prepping all of the things he couldn’t bring himself to eat for dinner. He was definitely tired of all of the ways his mind was spiraling out, he didn’t have the time. He didn’t fault Regulus for it, it wasn’t the teen's presence in his life that was causing all this stress. It really was his own fault. A bit of crying at that first hearing had given Walburga and Orion the satisfaction of a victory over him at that first hearing, and they seemed to crave more of that chaos. They wanted to watch their children suffer, and this was how they chose to do that. So instead he spiraled in the privacy of his own home, because he could practically hear the words they burned into his mind whenever he saw them, and feel the ache of old beatings.

But it was only Thursday, and that meant he still had to do this all day, and then get berated by the rest of the team for not attending their weekly bonding happy hour. If he was lucky, no one would ask him to go. He knew he should be less terrified of them asking, most of the people on his team were his friends. There was simply the question of Remus, and Sirius didn’t have the time to be thinking about him in the first place.

He didn’t have time to think about the way his hair curled just the right way to fall into his eyes when he slept, or the way his caramel freckles made him look sunkist. He didn’t have time to think about the pink scars that ran down Remus’s face or how they got there. He definitely didn;’t have time to think of the comfort of his hand combing through Sirius’s own mop of unruly curls. So instead, he needs to put all of that out of his mind. It wasn’t going to help him do well at work. It wasn’t going to solve his problems. He didn’t have the time for this, nor did he have the emotional bandwidth. Perhaps that was why Sirius was conveniently avoiding the idea that he had asked Remus on a date. With some luck, Remus would think he was just an asshole who ghosted him. That was definitely complicated by the fact that they worked together, that he couldn’t just disappear. He wanted to, he really did, because there was simply no time.

He set up his deliverables as though he had made tons of them, because his employment in this company rode on it. Just two months ago, he was pegged to be promoted within the next two cycles, and now he could barely hold on to his sanity enough to handle his workload. He was so fucking tired, and he had so much on his plate. He needed to mentally prepare himself for the long day of meetings ahead of him. He had no true motivation to do his job right now, all he knew was that his exhaustion was no excuse. He knew that his boss, Alice, was giving him a whole lot of leeway right now. She was probably doing more than she should to help him. Being a mentor on the senior design team didn’t mean she needed to keep tabs on his personal life and pick up his slack.

“Sirius–”

When Sirius focused back into the meeting he was calling into, it occurred to him that they’re talking to him. So he did what he always did, blamed it on a shoddy connection.

“Oh, sorry, can you repeat that? My audio cut out.”

“Remus was saying that some of the poems could probably use illustrations, and he was wondering if you had any ideas on which ones needed it.”

“Thanks, Peter.” Sirius was glad that he knew the people on this team, that Peter and James were as close to him as anyone could be. Because otherwise, he’d probably be fucked.

“So I was looking through them, and I was thinking Bite, Magick, and Love I could probably use larger scale illustrations. But at the same time, we don’t want to crowd the book. How attached are you to the current order or page arrangement?”

It felt too close, but he was lucky that he had at least read the titles of some of the poems in the first half of the book. Sirius knew Remus didn’t actually know what his level of involvement was. He thought it was just doodles, but Sirius would be responsible for presenting everything from kearning and font choice within the pages, to illustration and cover art to the design team. He was integral to the success of this book as a product, and he needed to start acting like it.

“I’m pretty attached.” Remus sounded cold to Sirius, and he wondered what exactly he had done wrong in this meeting. And yet, he didn’t have time to think on it. He needed to keep things moving, keep getting valuable information out of the author. Hook up be damned, Sirius needed this book to actually get off the ground.

“Okay, well we should get a meeting on the calender to discuss. What poems and what scale of illustrations you want–”

“Shouldn’t you be deciding what the illustrations look like and the logistics of those. Isn’t that what you get paid for?” Remus really wasn’t making this easy on Sirius. But he had dealt with bigger demons and divas then whatever this attitude was. So he put on a light and airy smile, one they’d never know didn’t reach his eyes over the low quality webcam and nodded.

“If you’d like to take a hands off approach with the design work, that can absolutely be arranged. But in the case of a fledgling project with a new author, the design team, myself included, really hope to prioritize your artistic license so that we can get a better sense of your vision for your literature, should Quill move forward with other publications in the future. We can provide a completely in-house service, with as much input as you feel necessary during the design process, and deliver collateral towards the end of the project when final edits are done, if you would prefer, Mister Lupin.”

Sirius practically wanted to scream. He needed Remus to stop fucking with his job, with his livelihood. He couldn’t lose this project. He needed all of the billable hours he could get if he was going to justify the overtime he needed in order to provide for his brother. This was ridiculous. But his clinical and polite answer must have thrown Remus, because he didn’t get much more attitude out of him. The back and forth had ended. So instead, Sirius pulled up his deliverables for the week, which included new iterations for the covers, and twelve illustrations for the three poems he had mentioned.

He noticed the way Remus looked at his drawings, like he was pained by whatever his thoughts were, and Sirius wants to scream that he’s under no obligation to think that they’re good. But then he remembers that Remus seemed to be nitpicking on purpose, based on his critique of the design system itself. Sirius didn’t have the time to deal with that level of petty, just because he hadn’t been answering. He was too busy. He had too much on his plate. So instead he continues his presentation.

“I don’t like any of these. Maybe you should start over.” Remus sounded vindictive, even mean. Like he was doing this out of spite. Sirius could feel his heart drop in that moment. He didn’t want to start over. He didn’t have the time.

“What do you not like about them?” Sirius is trying to salvage his work while he can.

“The vibe is off.”

“Oh, is there something specific that throws it off or...” Sirius trailed off, wondering what exactly he needed to change.

“No, it’s the whole thing. All of them are just off.”

Sirius needed to think quick on his feet. He didn’t have the time to start from scratch, so he pulled up his original thumbnails that he had discussed with Remus.

“These are the original sketches we discussed. I moved forward with the ones we talked about. I’m happy to rework those sketches,” no, he wasn’t. “But if there’s another sketch that you think would fit your vision better, please let me know.” He felt like he was pleading with Remus not to hate his artwork. He’d be a liar if he said it wasn’t a blow to his self esteem to hear that everything that he did was bad.

“No, I would suggest you start over.”

Sirius nodded, his mind immediately whirring with ways he could start over and re-design this project. He really didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to do hundreds of thumbnails to get set on thirty, only to be destroyed in a meeting again. Especially when Remus seemed so excited about all of his illustrations before the meetings. It felt like too much. He didn’t have the energy for this kind of behavior.

Luckily, Marlene directed the conversation away from Sirius’s work. The rest of the call went on without a hitch, like the only person who’s work Remus had a problem with was Sirius’s. He knew that it was more likely for Remus to have a problem with him, because design work was usually something an artist thought of as easy; however, this felt calculated and cold. If Sirius had been avoiding Remus before, it definitely wasn’t about to get better. So instead, he listened to the end of the meeting, and started the project all over again. He could do this. It was an unremarkable critique. It didn’t matter.

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stillness-in-green · 3 years

Text

Ahistorical, Absurd, and Unsustainable (Part Two)

An Examination of the Mass Arrest of the Paranormal Liberation Front

Introduction and Part One

PART TWO: Logistics Problems

The Initial Arrests

Looking over the events above, one thing becomes apparent almost immediately: the only one that involves numbers even resembling those at the villa are the Rice Riots, and arrests there were scattered across two months. The only thing I could find that even came close to the idea of arresting the entire PLF in a day was a mass detainment in India in 2011: in the run-up to a separatist rally[7] that had stated its intention to be a “Million Man March,” police reportedly detained 100,000 people to stop them from attending. To do this, they used auditoriums and stadiums, not actual detention facilities.

And you can see why! We see a few pictures of the Gunga Villa group in the aftermath, but they’re pictures that raise more questions than they answer. Consider this one:

The detainment and relocation of the PLF. (Chapter 296)

This is but the tiniest fraction of the people captured, but every single one of them has had their hands and arms bound. The ones we see in the basement are restrained similarly. Where did all those restraints come from? Who got them all here? Were they, perhaps, made by the man in the center, who conspicuously has lengths of the same restraint wrapped around his wrists? If so, how did he make them all so freely, when most similar quirks we see rely on a certain amount of body mass or caloric intake?

Or take those transports in the background. How many people can each hold, and how long will it take to move a group of 17,000 into secure facilities? How are those 17,000 being kept docile all that time, especially once they’ve been moved onto the transports? Will there be a hero onboard every one, making sure the prisoners don’t get the opportunity to plan amongst themselves? Were there similar transports parked at every other raid site across the rest of the country? Enough of them and their assigned heroes to move the other 98,000 people?

Consider what we know about the Paranormal Liberation Front.[8] While easiest to compare numerically to widespread protest movements, they’re unlike any historical mass arrest in that context because they are, every one of them, combat-trained and ready to give their lives for the cause. There's no one there to tell them all to stand down, at least not that we see give such an order. Trumpet, perhaps, could have, but why would he have done so? Re-Destro gave the order back in Deika, but Re-Destro seems to have lost consciousness following his battle with Edgeshot, and I much doubt he’d have given the same order here as he did when facing Shigaraki in any case.

My Hero Academia has a long history of treating police custody as something like a status effect, like once a villain has been subdued, they’re In Custody, and magically become incapable of attempting to mount an escape. But why should this be so? There’s a relatively common misconception I see in fanfic that the police have “quirk cancellation restraints,” but let’s be clear: no such device exists in the series. This is the ostensible reason All For One and Muscular are restrained so unforgivingly; it’s why the prisoners in Tartarus have guns pointed at their heads at all times. It’s why Overhaul’s drug was such a big deal and it’s why the only way to stop Gigantomachia was to drug him or have Best Jeanist bind him in steel cables.

There is no way to stop someone in MHA from using their quirk except convincing them not to, via diplomacy or intimidation, or rendering them unconscious. Which of those tactics, pray tell, is in use here, such that the enormous numbers of people at issue remain subdued until they can be moved to secure facilities?

The Liberated Districts

Another problem quickly presents itself. We’re told that the PLF’s “other bases” around the country were hit, but we weren’t shown what that looked like. We saw Slidin’ Go and another hero in a prisoner transport; we know from bonus material that people like Class 1-B and Mirio—and presumably any number of other high school hero interns from around the country—were involved in those other raids. Still, we didn’t see what those base raids actually entailed.

That’s not surprising, because “base” is not really a very accurate word to describe the scale of the problem. See, with the intention of the raids being to put a stop to the PLF in one fell swoop, rather than risk a drawn-out conflict with a force that Hawks describes as, “On par with, maybe even greater than,” the power of their hero-saturated society, the Commission would have had to take into account an aspect of the MLA that readers learned about during My Villain Academia: what Trumpet calls “liberated districts.”

Deika was a liberated district—an entire town where an enormous chunk of the population was made up of members of the MLA. Ominously, the fact that Trumpet had a ready term to describe it—“a” liberated district, not “our” liberated district, or even “the first” liberated district—suggests that Deika was not the only one.[9] Further, Curious describes what we can expect the heroes would have to contend with in such areas: people who look like everyday civilians but are actually combat-trained warriors. Combat-trained warriors not gathered in one conveniently isolated compound or solitary building, but scattered across miles of homes and businesses, schools and parks, anywhere that an ordinary person might be found spending their day.

That is an entirely different can of worms than raiding one single building; thus it is here that the logistics really start to strain. Mass arrests of a civilian populace don't work at all the same way as a round-up of people all in a single area—how do you arrest an entire town? Well, there is such a thing as martial law, or military occupation, and maybe those tactics would work if the PLF had sent all their ace combatants to the villa and all the people remaining in the target city were terrified and unarmed civilians who could be ordered to keep inside their houses until further notice lest they start getting shot. That is not at all how the bulk of the PLF—that is, the ranks of the MLA—have been portrayed, though.[10] Again, Re-Destro and Curious characterize their 116,000 warriors as all being trained, combat-ready, prepared to rise up to answer the call. That is not a population that you're going to keep cowed with a certain minimum police presence, especially as time drags on.

Anyway, an occupation is clearly out-of-keeping with how the text presents the operation being run. We’re given no reason to assume other raids were any different than the ones we saw: a team of heroes launches a coordinated assault with a backline set up to catch stragglers. We’re told, after all, that the other sympathizers were “rounded up,” so extended detainment-in-place clearly wasn’t the intention. That just returns us to the problem, though.

According to Trumpet, Deika was 90% MLA. Presumably it was one of their higher-concentration bases, yes, but the situation isn’t any simpler in places that are “only” e.g. 80%, 70%, 60% inducted. It only becomes complicated in different ways.

Imagine a 70% liberated district. PLF-adherents are in the government, the municipal operations, the schools, the stores. How does this town keep running in a state of mass arrest? If the 70% are removed, what are the other 30% to do? Is the town even livable in that state? Will the remainder have to relocate? Can they afford that, and if not, what measures will be taken to help them? How quickly can those measures be enacted?[11]

The liberated districts present a bevy of other problems, too, but we’ll come back to those in Part Three.

Detainment Facilities

Let’s look at some more real-world facts and numbers.

As of 2018, Japan had 184 penal institutions, a term which covers prisons, detention houses, and juvenile facilities of either type. There are 70 prisons, 108 detention houses (eight of which are major facilities; the rest smaller branch locations), and 6 juvenile facilities. Their official capacity—that is, the number of occupants they are considered able to house without becoming overcrowded—is roughly 89,000. Their current population is around 48,000.

This puts Japan’s prison density—how close they are to being at full capacity—at 54%. They could not even double their occupancy without becoming overcrowded. Looking back to our PLF numbers, this tells us that real-life Japan could take an influx of 17,000. They absolutely could not take an influx of 115,000.

Here’s another way to look at it: in Japan currently, the rate of incarceration is 38 people per 100,000, in a population of 126 million. Adding the PLF to those numbers would mean they're incarcerating 130 per 100,000—more than triple the amount.

There’s another problem on top of the capacity issue: in Japan, penal institutions are divided up by what kind of prisoner they’re intended to house. Remand prisoners—that is, pre-trial detainees—are to be housed in different facilities than convicted prisoners. Convicted prisoners are sorted further by demographic traits, the type of offense they’ve committed, whether or not it was their first offense, and so on. For example, there’s an entire prison in Chiba Prefecture dedicated to housing men convicted of traffic violations; elsewhere, even murderers are subdivided according to criminal affiliation and likelihood of reoffending.

The relevance here is obvious. The problem isn't merely that there is limited prison capacity, but that that capacity is further limited by what space is available in the correct type of prison. And I am very prepared to bet that All For One prioritized targeting prisons that held violent offenders; he even implies as much when he describes the people he freed as violent escapees.

Speaking of All For One’s prison breaks, let’s take a look at some canonical numbers. They offer both information that mitigates the problems above, but also present new reasons to be concerned.

All For One, the night of his escape from Tartarus, targets seven other prisons, managing to free at least some inmates from six of them. Including the Tartarus escapees, 10,000 convicts are freed.

10,000 from seven prisons. Consider again the numbers above: Japan currently houses less than five times that many in twenty-six times as many penal institutions. In general, prisons don’t hold anywhere near those numbers—the largest one in Japan houses just barely over 2,000; even one that houses 500 is considered to be a large inmate population.[12]

I did some math based on the numbers I had available, and my rough estimate is that, in Japan, about 88% of the carceral population—42,000 people—are housed in the for-real prisons; the other 12% are remand prisoners and a negligible percent are incarcerated minors.

The MHA numbers are wildly, wildly higher. Now, this makes sense. In this post by @codenamesazanka, she notes that the first My Hero Academia movie describes Japan’s crime rate as a somewhat vaguely defined 6%, and estimates that this means the crime rate in MHA’s Japan is seven times higher than in real life—and that this is drastically lower than anywhere else in the world thanks solely to All Might! In other parts of the world, the crime rate is over 20% at minimum. So it seems reasonable to assume that Japan’s carceral capacity has increased likewise. Not, I think, to the degree that they automatically have the prison space to match their crime rate, but certainly more space than in real life.

Assuming, then, that MHA’s Japan has far more and/or far larger prison facilities, that also means they must need that kind of space—which means the space is already in use. Which, again, takes us back to the problem of overcrowding. If not—if the country is easily capable of dumping 115,000 people in prison without even causing a ripple of difficulty—then that implies its own deeply harrowing things about the rate of incarceration in the country. Either way, it sounds like a country that badly, badly needs to find a better way of doing things.

Legal Proceedings

Here’s another issue to consider: the legal proceedings. See, Edgeshot says this:

The hero Edgeshot explains why protecting the country requires these sixteen-year-olds be on the frontlines in a fight with people absolutely ready to kill them. Words cannot describe how much I wanted Re-Destro to knot this guy around a tree. (Chapter 263)

“If any of them get out, they could keep terrorizing other places.”

So assume for a moment that everything went exactly according to plan. Virtually all 115,000 members of the Liberation Front got rounded up, there’s easily enough room for them in Japan’s correctional facilities, and now the entire organization is awaiting trial. What happens next?

The Judicial Process

To provide some context for those of my readers whose only exposure to the judicial process is pop culture depictions, the very first thing that should happen after a person is arrested in the U.S. is a pre-trial appearance, at which people are formally told what the charges against them are and bail is set or denied. Non-violent offenders, provided they have someone able to post bail, are usually able to await their trial date at home, albeit under travel restrictions. Typically this pre-trial hearing should be within two business days; if a detainee hasn’t seen a judge in that time, the prosecutors’ office is obligated to let them go.[13] This doesn’t necessarily mean the person is off the hook entirely, of course; they can be arrested again later. It just means they’re free to go for the time being.

I don’t think for one second that Japan’s legal system can handle processing an influx the size of the PLF in just a few days. For comparison’s sake, in 2018 (the same year all my incarceration numbers come from, incidentally), 206,000 people were arrested in total, for the whole year. So will the overflow just be let go? Released to their homes to wait for the police to come back when they have more time? Yet that doesn’t seem to track with how Edgeshot was talking, does it?

On the one hand, if you look at the numbers from some of my historical analogues, it’s very consistent that only a small portion of people swept up in mass arrests in Japan ever actually reach trial. For the Rice Riots and the March 15 Incident, that portion is about a third—quite sizeable, given the numbers involved—but the others are lower still: the long-term arrests under the Peace Preservation Laws saw only about a twelfth of those arrested actually brought to trial; for the Righteous Army, it was less than a tenth.

Frankly, you don't arrest those kinds of numbers and then actually prosecute all of them; you arrest them to scare the shit out of people, and then you try the ringleaders and whichever others you have the most dirt on. This is the pattern in every other instance that involves over a thousand people being arrested.

On the other hand, even setting aside the fact that people can apparently be dropped in Tartarus without trial now,[14] a significant difference between the U.S. and Japan is that pretrial detention can stretch on and on and on in Japan. Legally speaking, charges should be filed with 72 hours, but prosecutors can request ten more days twice, then repeat the process over by adding other potential charges about which they need to question the suspect. So, yes, I suppose that, if the authorities do have the facilities to keep the PLF in, there’s nothing stopping them from dragging this detainment out indefinitely—it just isn’t very in-keeping with the historical record to do so with all of them.

As you might expect, lengthy detainments are a massively controversial aspect of the Japanese legal system to human rights activists both locally and abroad, since the loophole of detainees not yet having been charged or tried allows police to get around a lot of the rights that are supposed to be guaranteed, particularly the right to legal representation.[15]

So, now that I’ve brought up the right to legal counsel, here’s another procedural issue: due to a generally non-litigious culture and a very difficult bar exam, there's a dearth of attorneys in Japan. Defense attorneys have a particularly hard time; thanks to the presumption of guilt of those arrested by police, and an oft-vicious ostracization of criminals, it's seen as something of a blemish on one's character to willingly defend the accused, so defense lawyers are frequently unpopular and underpaid. I have to assume MHA is facing similar problems.[16] Good luck finding all the people you need to investigate and defend the new glut of people in the system, though!

No, the reason real-life Japan’s legal system can go on functioning even with a shortage of lawyers is, I suspect, that compared to how long pre-trial detention can go on, trials are fairly quick. Legally, they're required to last no longer than a few weeks. There is, however, concern among some in the legal profession that cases are not being examined closely enough, leading to preventable errors and miscarriages of justice,[17] due to both the haste with which trials are conducted and aspects of Japan's “lay judge” system.

Lay judges are a unique feature of Japan's legal system, in some ways similar to—and in other ways very distinct from—a jury of one’s peers. As in a U.S. jury, lay judges are a panel randomly selected from the citizenry to hear evidence and render judgement. However, where jurists are a passive audience to the presentation of the case, only debating the merits behind closed doors after the case concludes, lay judges are encouraged to take active part in the trial process, empowered to question witnesses and challenge evidence. The lay judges are joined by a smaller number of professional judges; a verdict requires a majority vote of the judges' panel, in which at least one vote is that of said professional judges.

As to what this has to do with concerns about justice, consider, if you will, how the requirements of a system that demands active involvement from its participants might intersect with the (self-)perception of the Japanese people as modest and not wanting to “make trouble” for others, particularly when combined with a widespread belief that suspects would not be brought to trial if they weren’t guilty. Additionally, in the specific context of My Hero Academia, consider how bias about villains or “villainous quirks” will influence such judgements.

I’ll talk more about the presupposition of guilt in Japan and how it relates to the treatment of suspects by both officials and the public in Part Three, but for now, let’s consider the trial itself. What will the charges be? What will the sentences be? How long will the PLF members be in prison? And will that time in prison do the slightest thing to prevent them from going right back to what they were doing when they get out? Are they just going to be imprisoned indefinitely? Until they say they change their minds?

When I began my research, there were two main things I wanted to examine in regard to crimes the PLF at large might be on the hook for: membership in an illegal organization and conspiracy to commit acts of terrorism.

Japan and Illegal Organizations

So here’s the thing: Japan doesn’t criminalize membership in organizations categorically. Because of the government’s history abusing laws to crack down on labor organizations and political dissent—e.g. the March 15 Incident—any attempts to legislate the process of banning criminal organizations get significant pushback from freedom of speech advocates. After all, critics say, the police may say that your community activist group doesn’t count as a terrorist organization now, but what’s actually stopping them from categorizing it as such in the future?

Now, that’s not to say Japan doesn’t have ways to regulate such groups at all! I’ll talk more about this later on, but briefly, groups that are found likely to be advocating for “terroristic subversive activity” can be forcibly barred from e.g. printing their organizational material, holding public assemblies, or owning property under the group’s name. One thing that isn’t mentioned in those prohibitions, though, is actual membership in the organization. That’s because, as I said, Japan is hugely gun-shy about criminalizing membership in any sort of organization, even organizations that have been declared criminal.[18]

It’s illegal to pick mushrooms on conservation lands if you’re doing it to raise money for your terrorist organization. It’s illegal to use protest sit-ins against new apartment buildings if you’re doing it on behalf of the mob. But it is not illegal to simply be a member of a terrorist organization or the mob—not even if that group has been formally dissolved by the government.

We can see a few places where this holds true even in the universe of My Hero Academia. The Shie Hassaikai is, like many yakuza groups, under police surveillance, but not barred outright from existing. Likewise, whatever prohibition there might once have been on printing material in support of the Metahuman Liberation Army has clearly lapsed, otherwise Curious would never have gotten away with reprinting Destro’s memoir.

Being a member of the MLA was likely not illegal as such, not any more so than membership in Aum Shinrikyo (currently calling themselves Aleph) or yakuza groups are in real life—they’re surveilled, sure, their activities curtailed, absolutely, but banned outright? Not so much. And membership in the PLF certainly wouldn't be banned even if it were legal to ban such memberships, seeing as it's brand new and, at the time of the raid, would not yet have been targeted for restrictions on its activity, lest such targeting tip the group off that the government was aware of its existence.

Keep that last point in mind; we’ll be coming back to it later, too.

Conspiracy

So, if membership in the PLF isn’t illegal in and of itself, what else can the government use to charge the 115,000 people they preemptively arrested?

Well, in general, for someone to be tried for a crime, they need to be either caught in the act or caught in an attempt. An attempted crime is something that is in immediate danger of happening—for example, if someone tries to kidnap a baby from the pediatric wing of a hospital but is caught by security before they make it out of the building, that’s an attempted kidnapping. An attempted crime may or may not be punished with the same severity as a successfully enacted crime, depending on the nature of the offense and the local laws.

What an attempted crime differs from, however, is a planned crime. If someone was planning to commit tax evasion but decided not to, they cannot be charged with tax evasion. This is how most criminal charges work—you can’t be charged with something you didn’t at least try to do, regardless of how close you came to it, and a policeman who tries to goad someone into such a crime should rightfully be running into charges of entrapment.

There are, unsurprisingly, some exceptions. It’s not uncommon for countries to criminalize planning insurrection or treason, and in cases like that, police are under absolutely no obligation to wait around for an active attempt before they respond. They can and will move as soon as they have sufficient evidence to get an arrest warrant. For lesser offenses, though, the legality of the advance-planning of a crime varies from country to country, and this is where we start getting into conspiracy.

Conspiracy in the legal sense has a couple of elements: it must be something that 1) two or more people 2) knowingly 3) discussed a plan for, which 4) led at least one person in the group to commit a “preparatory action.” i.e. do something to advance aforementioned plan.[19] All of these elements have to be proven to get everyone in a group on a conspiracy charge, though not all members of a group have to be in on all parts of a plan. If these elements are met, then everyone in the group can be charged with any and all crimes committed over the course of the plan being carried out, regardless of each member’s individual involvement.

What all this means for our purposes is that, because the heroes made the first move, they have to get the PLF on something that is illegal to even plan, not something that only becomes illegal in the attempt.[20] Huge portions of the PLF may wind up being released if the police can't conclusively prove not merely their association with the PLF, but also their direct knowledge of the relevant plans—not difficult for the ringleaders, obviously, but much dicier when you start getting out into the liberated districts. If the prosecution can't prove that knowledge, and lacks confessions otherwise—and as I’ll discuss in more detail later, a confession in and of itself is not considered sufficient; there has to be corroborating evidence[21]—huge swathes of those people are going to get cut loose.

So what are police going to be looking for? What crimes can the PLF be charged with under current law, and what are the sentences for such crimes like?

Prior to 1952, conspiracy was only illegal in the following cases: insurrection, treason, or aiding/abetting/instigating either of the above. Conspiracy to commit treason as a charge is right out—everything the PLF is doing, they’re doing for their own sake and for the sake of the future of Japan, not for the sake of a foreign power. Conspiracy to commit/instigate insurrection is more debatable, but, surprisingly, shakier than it might appear at first. This is because of the specific, legal definition of the term.

Japan’s Penal Code defines insurrection as rioting for the purpose of overthrowing the government, usurping the sovereignty of the State, or otherwise subverting constitutional order. The middle clause, the one regarding territorial sovereignty, is obviously not at issue—the PLF is not attempting to stake out land for a new country and secede. It’s the rest of the description that’s debatably more applicable, but still, to my eye, not an easy guilty verdict.

Firstly, per Hawks’ description of the plan, the PLF at least wants the government and the constitutional order intact enough for the Hearts & Minds Party to “storm the political world,” which to me suggests that their target is public opinion, not the intangible apparatus of the government itself. Further, even if you did argue that their manipulation of public opinion constitutes subversion of the constitutional order, you’d also have to argue the rioting part, and we have no idea whether any of the PLF’s plans actually involved a significant number of people mobbing in public as opposed to e.g. small strike teams.

So is the PLF off the hook? Not hardly! The Penal Code was established in 1907, after all—it’s been expanded lots since then, and those expansions are where the PLF really starts to run into trouble.

The Subversive Activities Prevention Act of 1952 criminalized a number of conspiracy-to-commit crimes—crimes like arson and homicide—if said crimes were to be undertaken “with the intent to promote, support or oppose any political doctrine or policy.” For example, conspiring to burn down a bank was not criminalized. Conspiring to burn down a bank as an act of protest against a new tax law became illegal as all get-out.

This gets us where we need to be for the PLF, as, on top of the crimes laid out in the 1952 act, I am very prepared to believe that acts of villainy (that is, illegal quirk use) in advancement of political ends have been folded into this particular branch of Japanese law.[22] So then, what kind of conspiracy charges are we looking at here, and what associated crimes?

I see two major possibilities at this point, and they hinge on exactly how much the prosecution ties Shigaraki’s attack on Jaku and Gigantomachia’s destruction to the run-of-the-mill PLF member sitting in a backwater town somewhere doing nothing more involved than e.g. quirk training and attending weekly meetings to get updates on where the plans stand for their local regiment’s part of the big push the following month. It’s difficult to say how feasible it is to make that connection—there are provisions in Japanese law for group criminal liability, but they tend to require things like joint actions, or specific knowledge and intent regarding the crime in question.

Obviously, random PLF members nowhere near Machia’s path of destruction didn’t take joint actions to abet it, so the pertinent question is, was Machia going on a rampage part of the plan? How about Shigaraki’s destruction of Jaku? If so, how much did random PLF members know about it? How specific does that knowledge need to be? If, say, the original plan had Shigaraki decaying the greater part of Hosu, does it still meet the specific knowledge requirement if he wound up decaying Jaku instead? If Machia was supposed to stampede across Tokyo, do the PLF members who chased after him count as furthering a conspiracy to do so when he stomped across Osaka and Kyoto instead?

Frankly, I don’t think we can say for sure how much a randomly selected member of the rank and file would have known. Any knowledge they had would have been many steps removed from the people actually making the plan; I would tend to think that the outer reaches of the PLF mostly knew about whatever plan their specific group would be tasked with, but would have much patchier knowledge of plans beyond that immediate sphere. As to how much that matters to the courts? Well, let’s take a look at the final logistics problem: the sentencing.

Sentencing Standards

First things first: I absolutely do not think the death penalty is on the table for the rank and file. People like Shigaraki and Dabi, yes, based on their pre-PLF crimes alone; Re-Destro and the other lieutenants are certainly a strong possibility. But the rank and file? No. Looking at our historical referents, it has never been the case that every single person involved in a mass arrest incident has been sentenced equally harshly, even in the case of the February 26 Incident’s outright uprising against the state! And that was in a time where human rights were considerably less enshrined in the constitution; in the modern day, the death penalty is usually reserved for murder cases,[23] typically only those involving multiple murders or particularly aggravated cases involving torture or ransom.

Whether or not the courts could attempt to punish all of the members of the PLF for all the deaths caused by Shigaraki and Gigantomachia under group criminal liability provisions, the degree of mass international outcry sentencing 115,000 people to death would involve is difficult to fathom. Egypt's 2014 mass trials of the Muslim Brotherhood are a good referent, and they “only” involved about 1,200 people.[24] Multiplying that number ten times over? I very much doubt Horikoshi is prepared to even imply that the system all these cute kids want to grow up and join is anywhere near that grisly and authoritarian.

Anyway, if the MHA government were that quick to hand down death sentences, I very much doubt Stain or All For One would still be alive—or, indeed, that Tartarus would serve much function at all. It's described, after all, as a place that houses those who threaten Japan's security on a fundamental, national level. That's the kind of thing countries keep death penalties around for.

That said, let’s assume for the time being that Shigaraki and Machia will be treated as their own thing, and what the PLF are going to be tried for is more in tune with the plan as Hawks laid it out. Remember again that the heroes attacked preemptively. This means that, in this scenario, all the conspiracy stuff is on the table, but it’s the only thing on the table—because it’s all the PLF had time to get to! There might be a few other charges—for example, if the black market support good proliferation is part of their plan, and the weapon proliferation is already underway, the whole group could feasibly be charged with whatever crime covers illegal weapon distribution. However, whatever crimes those support goods would be used to commit haven’t happened yet, so on that front, the PLF is still only on the hook for planning them.

Here, then, is what the Penal Code and its relevant revisions have to say about conspiracy sentences:

If they do wind up getting the group on conspiracy to incite insurrection:

A person who prepares for or plots an insurrection is punished by imprisonment without work for not less than 1 year but not more than 10 years.

(…)

A person who aids the commission of any of the crimes prescribed above by the supply of arms, funds, or food, or by any other act, is punished by imprisonment without work for not more than 7 years.

So that’s kinda bad! Not as bad as if they’d actually gotten to the insurrection, which is when death penalties and life sentences for ringleaders and key figures start cropping up, but still pretty bad! Seven years in prison is almost certainly enough time for a lot of those people to do some serious reconsideration of their life priorities!

As I already said, though, I think the insurrection charge is shaky. So what if they wind up instead charging the PLF with conspiracy to commit villainy for political aims?

Well, that’s why this whole section is in the logistics portion of this essay, because the sentencing for politically motivated villainy probably looks a lot more like this:

If it’s a crime on the level of, for political aims, preparing, plotting, inducing, or inciting:

Arson, illegal use of explosives, homicide, or robbery involving assault or intimidation: imprisonment with or without work for a term not exceeding five years.

A public disturbance: imprisonment with or without work for a term not exceeding three years.

A hazard for a train, tram, or vessel: imprisonment with or without work for a term not exceeding—oh, three years again.

The assault or intimidation of a public employee in the performance of public duty[25]: spoilers, it’s imprisonment for not more than three years again.

Five years or less. Three years or less.

Is that enough time to make people reconsider their life choices? Especially people who have been raised all their lives to follow the cause of Liberation?

Remember that when the heroes attacked, the intention was a clean sweep, a preventative tactic to stop the villains before they could enact any of their terroristic plans. Yet if they intended to stop things at a point where only conspiracy would be punishable, is three years in prison all that Edgeshot thought these people would be in for when he said that if a single one of them escaped, they might go on to terrorize other places? What was Japan’s government and/or the Hero Public Safety Commission planning to do in three years, or five years, or ten years, when 17,000 to 115,000 people were released en masse from prison, free to return to their lives? It certainly seems like they had more stringent consequences in mind, does it?

Of course, there are other factors to consider.

Lots of these people would, presumably, be up on multiple charges, compounding their sentences. Certainly, if Shigaraki and Gigantomachia are tied to the rest of the group, their tolls of death and destruction could potentially be applied to any and all co-conspirators. And maybe the penalties for conspiracy to commit politically motivated villainy are worse. Maybe the prosecutors will push for insurrection conspiracy charges regardless of their applicability, and the Japanese courts will just let them, because there will be a profound thirst for “justice” after Gigantomachia’s rampage and a few human rights violations or abuses of the law will seem like just what the Paranormal Liberation Front members had coming to them.

Maybe, behind the immediate logistical problems presented by this mass arrest, there are a whole fleet of problems of a different nature.

Next time: let’s talk ethics.

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

Footnotes (Part Two)

[7] Whose supporters were eventually successful, by the way. Look up the Telangana movement.

[8] For example, “Skeptic can access such high-tech satellites that he can get up-to-the-minute views on the heroes approaching Gigantomachia, but he somehow didn’t notice a literal hero battalion bearing down on the villa until they were charging out of the tree line? Seriously?”

[9] Frankly, another 2-3 Deikas is the simplest way to explain how they can have a group that big and still be totally unknown to society at large. Far easier to maintain a cult’s required isolation and secrecy when your strongholds are more “this town and everyone you know and love in it” and less “this fancy resort that everyone has to drive thirty minutes to an hour to get to from the totally normal towns they actually live in.”

[10] And frankly, I don't know that that the, “All their really good combatants are at the villa,” assumption is even justified, given that you'd think the people at the villa for the “conference” are more likely to be the people who are going to be involved in coordinating the upcoming assaults—lots of great combatants, sure, but also people who are going to be doing the organizational work, the supply work, etc.

[11] Presumably, at this point, our hypothetical 30% will be instructed to relocate to one of the hero school shelters, but that obviously wouldn’t have been in the plan from the beginning, given that the shelters were only opened after heroes started retiring in droves.

[12] For comparison, a mid-sized prison is considered by the American Jail Association to have 50 to 249 beds, and we’re way more prone to incarceration than Japan is.

[13] For example, in 2005 in Baltimore, so many arrests were being made based on quality-of-life crimes like loitering that the system couldn't keep up, leading to thousands of people having to be released because they just couldn't be processed in time.

[14] When AFO was first brought in, we were told that his remand to Tartarus pre-trial was without precedent. However, Chapter 297 describes Tartarus as a detention facility that only calls itself a prison—remember, in Japan, remand prisoners are supposed to be kept separate from tried and sentenced prisoners. Thus, Tartarus should be reserved only for those who are sentenced to it, or it shouldn't contain sentenced prisoners at all. But with 297, we find that such is no longer the case, as people can be put there “regardless of their sentencing status.” It's unclear whether this change was a rapid case of slippery slope in-universe or whether it's a simple retcon.

[15] Suspects get one visit from a “duty lawyer” for free during detention, but otherwise, the right to counsel only kicks in after charges are filed, and lawyers are not allowed to be present during questioning.

[16] Among many other factors, it would certainly help explain why All For One hasn't even been brought to trial yet. Hell, we don't even know if he's really been formally charged, though Pixie Bob’s comment back in Chapter 184 could easily be interpreted as meaning that the questioning process is still ongoing. AFO needs a Yasuda Yoshihiro, clearly.

[17] Though both acquittals and convictions can be appealed.

[18] An “organized criminal group” per Japanese law has a few qualifications to meet. They need to be committing crimes in an organized fashion, obviously, and there are laws determining which crimes qualify, but further, they need to be a sustained organization, one in which members have assigned roles and duties such that those duties advance a common cause sought after by the organization as a whole. Ergo, a yakuza group definitely qualifies, while an impromptu group of people who got together to murder their boss but who have no further common cause afterward does not. Groups like the Metahuman Liberation Army and the Shie Hassaikai obviously meet these standards, but e.g. the League of Villains, lacking much in the way of a common cause or defined roles, might not.

[19] Like buying a ski mask if their plan to rob a bank involves ski masks.

[20] This, obviously, applies only to members of the PLF who haven’t already broken other laws. The League is boned no matter what. Likewise, there are laws against e.g. harboring criminals that could be brought to bear against whoever maintains the villa, and so on and so forth.

[21] Though one huge issue is that other peoples' confessions can be counted as evidence against you, and yours against others.

[22] A highly controversial anti-conspiracy law in 2017 criminalized the planning of a whole array of new crimes, some bizarrely innocuous-looking, but because it was aimed mostly at the yakuza and other groups engaged in human trafficking, the new roster was generally criminalized on the basis that they were crimes intended to gain some material benefit for the organization planning them. The PLF’s plans were going to do a lot of things, but provide material benefit—a legal term for something that has monetary value—is decidedly not one of them.

[23] Though there are 19 offenses for which it is legally invokable.

[24] The greater majority of the sentences were commuted to “only” being life sentences, but that only by virtue of a relatively powerful upper court, which Egypt’s president has been working to diminish ever since. The state of fair trials and humane prison conditions in the country is pretty appalling right now.

[25] Continued, “committed collectively by carrying any deadly weapon or poison, against any person engaged in prosecutorial or police duties, any assistant to such official, any person who guards or escorts persons in legal custody, or any person engaged in an investigation under this Act.” There are a lot of riders on this one.

#bnha analysis #bnha meta #paranormal liberation front #meta liberation army #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha spoilers #my writing #plf arrests #stillness has salt

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azazelsconfessional · 3 years

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I know there's gotta be some oddly niche explanation but I gotta ask.

Why you got 5 fingers but only 3 toes?

It's so oddly specific that I need to know.

Wait... does this count as a foot ask?

"You all are awfully concerned about my feet, aren't you?" He chuckles though, finding it more amusing than anything. “These are foot asks, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of, Wobin. This place is welcoming of your every perversion. This is quite mild compared to getting Wen Kamui to eat you a few days ago. I’m glad to see you’ve made such a swift recovery.” No kinkshame.

"I can't explain it myself. Goats have two toed hooves and two dew claws--logistically, I should have two or four toes, if not five.

"It's probable that the goat sacrificed to me lost a toe on the way off the cliff. Their limbs were never really intact by the time they reached me due to the steepness and sharpness of the cliff, so it's possible that it happened to have been missing one of its hooves on each foot and thus they didn't 'transfer' properly when it was turned from a regular animal into a therian to house me.

"It's also possible that the hooves were merged into a singular toe, leaving me with three--or, on the other hand, I could have received three toes but the dew claws never made it to the front and were simply lost somewhere inside--or underneath my fetters where I can't see them. Moreover, because I didn't usually have legs before, it's possible there were sacrifices made to compensate for that when i was sealed into this sacrifice, resulting in missing toes.

"Ultimately, I can't quite explain myself as I didn't make this vessel. Hands were likely prioritized for function, leaving my feet to be more concerned with keeping me balanced than having a more 'correct' anatomical appearance."

"More than likely, however, it's just my artist's style. Lieb and Cu Sith also have five fingers and three toes and Agyo has four fingers and three toes. Their pixiv has some older art where therians have the same anatomy, if you dig through it, so it's simply how they draw therians. Someone else likely would have given us five toes. In that way, perhaps you could consider it up to artistic interpretation?"

#((THESE ASKS WERE EXACTLY 30 MINUTES APART LMAO))#answers #anon #i can walk just fine so i never really gave it much thought #i can move the fetters but my ankles aren't particularly abnormal #although the compression could have suppressed them by now. this body had to grow after all.

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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Yknow, in regards to May. I’m actually kind of annoyed that none of the team brought up what I’ve been thinking as an obvious counter. If atlas falls, it falls ON MANTLE. Seems like a pretty reasonable thing to offer as a counter. But then again. Like you said, Ruby tried to make it about the bias and not the logistics of the matter.

Precisely. We have the easy counter of “Atlas is currently the city under attack by Salem and if she manages to take the Staff then Atlas will fall on all the people of Mantle.” Even if they didn’t know Atlas would immediately flood Mantle like we saw in the finale, they know that everyone is in the crater that Atlas left — because they put them there. So fighting for Atlas is a pre-emptive way of helping Mantle. We also have the easy counter of, “The Mantle civilians are currently in danger from the grimm, but those grimm will never stop coming until the issue in Atlas is taken care of. Whether we’re talking about the grimm the whale is producing or Salem’s control over the whole army, the danger Mantle is in will never end until the danger in Atlas does. We’d just be putting a Band-Aid on this problem rather than tackling the source.”

So it’s really a question of short term vs. long term work. Are you going to put your resources towards defending those in immediate danger, or let them fend for themselves with the hope that you can (somehow) end the source of that danger before they die? It’s the sort of question that doesn’t have a single, correct answer. Especially when we throw Salem’s immortality back into the mix. That’s another easy counter: fighting her right now is a useless endeavor. We should put our energy towards protecting the people until such a time as we’ve figured out what else to do/how to evacuate people. Which, of course, brings us right back around to the debate with Ironwood. He did have an evacuation plan, even if it wasn’t a good one. That’s more than Team RWBY managed to come up with while sitting in the mansion and it’s that sort of split responsibility that should have been agreed upon if the story wanted us to believe that our heroes are smart, strategic, empathetic people. Ironwood tries to evacuate everyone in Atlas while they defend the people of Mantle. May and a couple others go help the people of Mantle while the rest go join the fight against the whale. May isn’t entirely wrong when she’s in the airship and points out that, at this point, a handful of huntsmen can’t make a huge difference in this situation, but the optimistic view of that otherwise depressing announcement is that any help they offer can’t be bad. This isn’t a situation where if they choose the “wrong” option there will be horrific consequences, simply because their impact is so miniscule compared to what Salem is attacking with. Whether they help Mantle or Atlas, it’s not going to magically save both cities, but the flipside is that it won’t horrendously hurt the other city either. What it will do is help the individuals they lend their skills to: that’s one less civilians dead by a grimm, that’s one more soldier helping the bomb reach its target. There should be comfort in the fact that even if they can’t help both, whoever they do help will benefit from that. Even if the benefit is small.

The single wrong choice here is to do nothing at all... which is precisely what Ruby did. By her and Weiss’ own admission, post the Amity mission they were waiting for someone else to save them and while they were waiting they didn’t help a single person. Nora didn’t benefit from them staying in the house, especially when Whitley is the one who called Klein (and then later though up/implemented the airship idea). Penny didn’t benefit from them having more tea, Klein is the one who fixed her. Yes, they defended her from the Hound and later kept her from flying off, but no one knew she was being hacked when they again decided to stay. They had no justification for refusing to help every single time they had a chance to up until Ruby randomly thought to use the Staff to evacuate people... which is what Ironwood wanted to do from the get-go, just in a different way. At the very least, they might have spent their down time really debating their possibilities: Are we going to help Mantle? Help the army? Should we try to reconcile with Ironwood? How else can we use the Staff to evacuate the people? Half our team is missing, should we go look for them? Try to track down the Lamp? Go destroy hordes of grimm with my convenient silver eyes ability? Any choice — even a selfish choice like prioritizing their friends over the people — would have been better than sitting around and then judging May for demanding they actually do something. Sitting by Nora’s bedside and then sitting by Penny’s bedside is, out of everything possible, the most useless choices when there’s a war going on outside your mansion.

#rwby #mymetas #Anonymous

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missmentelle · 3 years

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My mom sometimes does very impulsive things (nothing that puts anyone in danger but says hurtful things and breaks things) and says it’s okay because everyone think she’s crazy and she’s just proving us right. I believe she needs pro help but even hinting at it will make her mad. I don’t know how to make her understand that fighting all the time is not okay and that when she fights with others, I get worried because I love her and I’m not just trying to “scold” her.

Hey, it definitely does sound like your mom could be struggling with mental health issues. I can’t diagnose her, of course, but it does sound like she has some concerning behaviour and I think you’re on the right track by suggesting that she speak to a professional. I’m really sorry that you’re in such a difficult situation, and I wish there was a simple solution here.

Unfortunately, though, it sounds like you’ve sort of done all that you can do. You can point out the ways that her actions are affecting her and the people around her, and you can ask her to get help, but you can’t force her to see a professional. She’s an adult, and this is a decision she needs to make for herself. If she isn’t putting herself or others in danger, then she has the right to refuse treatment - even if she could seriously benefit from getting some. I wish there were magic words you could say to make your mother understand that you have her best interests at heart and that she really does need some help, but unfortunately there just... aren’t.

Honestly, this is one of the toughest logistical and ethical problems in mental health - figuring out when someone has a right to refuse treatment and when they don’t. Generally speaking, we can’t force people to get treatment until they present a clear danger to themselves or others; otherwise, we presume that people have a right to decide that they don’t want treatment and that they would prefer to live with untreated mental illness. Sometimes, that means that people with treatable mental illnesses live with their untreated symptoms for years or decades. It’s an ethical grey zone, and there are no great answers for how to deal with this.

You definitely aren’t alone in dealing with this - there are millions of people out there who know or suspect that a loved one has a serious mental illness, but are unable to make that person get treatment for it. Take care of yourself, look after your own mental health, and try not to take it personally if your mother refuses to get help. If you need distance from your mother to get away from the hurtful things your mom says and does, then you need to do that; prioritize your own mental health. You can’t fight this battle for your mother - she needs to be the one to recognize that she needs help.

Best of luck to you. MM

#Anonymous #AnsweredByMM

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fantastic-rambles · 3 years

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You made great points as to why a final Adam/Langa race would happen. It makes a lot of sense narratively, but I do hope they’ll choose a more subversive path in which he does forfeit/quit whether that be during Tadashi/Langa or Adam/Langa. I still hope for Tadashi/Adam to occur since they’ve also built him up as an equal. They’ve made a point that in other races Adam has purposely stayed behind to match the speed of other races, regardless of whether they start together, if he was interested by them. But Tadashi matched Adam’s time exactly in the qualifying rounds. And considering how much Adam has insulted Tadashi about being beneath him, I’d find them going head to head pretty satisfying. Makes me want to see a race where both are going all out since we’ve never seen either of them particularly intense about winning. Adam because of his persona and wanting to mess with his opponent and Tadashi because of his reserved nature. Either way I’m sure it’ll be good.

And I hope that Reki is more secure in himself when facing Adam like you mentioned. If he doesn’t want to go against him again, what do you think would happen? I’ve seen ppl say Reki will probably agree for Langa’s sake and the opportunity to skate, but what if he holds his ground about not enjoying skating with Adam? Do you think it’s possible that could be what causes Langa to forfeit/quit. (That would make Adam so mad lol). It’s probably not likely since they’re our main protagonists, but I think it would a cool demonstration of their character growths. Reki because he wouldn’t skate if it’s not going to be fun for him and Langa because it goes back to the original broken promise + prioritizes the relationship that makes him happiest about skating in the first place. Also, they can get away from what could be considered unnecessary, dangerous behavior that show condemns (when Manager Oka tells Reki that he’s enjoying pain because he’s unhappy with himself). Obviously skating is good for Langa and Reki, but the illegal and dangerous races at S could be framed as self-destructive. Especially when you consider all the injuries and strife surrounding it. I think if the characters were to come to this conclusion at some point (with or without quitting yet) it may make sense plot wise since the whole political scandal/jail thing makes me nervous about S continuing. Considering that Tadashi is the main man in charge of keeping cops away and he currently wants to end Adam’s time there, I wouldn’t be shocked if a confrontation with the law happened there like it almost did that one ep when the race got interrupted.

Oh and don’t worry about rambling at all! I love any long analysis on Sk8. Plus, I can get like that too and definitely edited this to make it more understandable lol.

Yeah, I would love Adam/Tadashi, but I feel like Adam/Langa is more likely. (And technically, Tadashi beat Adam by 2 seconds, though Adam also wasn’t taking it seriously then.) Though I do feel like Langa is probably at a level that Adam finally can skate all-out against him, if it comes down to the two of them.

When Adam insults Tadashi, I feel like it’s coming from all those years of resentment/lost trust (again, not an excuse for Adam’s behavior, but an analysis of it), and I also feel like Tadashi feels that he deserves them (and he himself sincerely believes that he’s below Adam). It’s obvious to me that Tadashi feels guilty for contributing to making Adam what he is today/for not standing up for or supporting him when Adam was younger, and he has been trying to make up for it by obeying Adam completely, no matter what he personally thinks. Because he couldn’t voice his opinion when Adam’s board was being burned, which was probably one of the most painful/significant experiences Adam has ever had, he feels that he doesn’t have the right to voice his opinion now: all he can do is try to pull Adam away from the self-destructive path that he’s on by betting his ability to skate on a race. In terms of skill, yeah, they’re equal, but in their interpersonal dynamics, there’s a huge gulf, which I think would make it very difficult for Tadashi to “save” Adam because Adam has lost all of his respect for Tadashi or his opinions.

I don’t think that Reki will end up not skating against Adam. But if he did, I don’t think that’s enough for Langa to refuse as well. My scenario for Langa forfeiting is that Reki gets wrecked against Adam, which outrages Langa and/or makes him have to choose between going to the hospital with Reki or staying to skate with Adam, and he chooses Reki over Adam. To me, Reki’s growth would come from the parallels between the two times that he skates against Adam: in the first, he’s completely crushed by the difference in ability and runs away, and in the (theoretical) second, he accepts that he will never be a star skater, but he can still enjoy skating even if he doesn’t win.

And I frankly was really pissed by Reki trying to force Langa to promise not to skate against Adam. Yes, he has a reason for it and he’s worried about Langa, but what about Langa’s own feelings? It’s obvious that Langa has fun taking on challenges, and Adam is the ultimate challenge, not just for him, but also for everyone else. If we want to talk about it in terms of relationships, which it seems most of the fandom does, I saw that as a possessive partner trying to forbid their partner from going out and having fun with their friends. Would Adam be a terrible “friend” to hang out with? Absolutely. But if Langa enjoys spending time with him, what gives Reki the authority to forbid him from doing so? So if I’m being entirely honest, my opinion of Reki plummeted after Episode 5 and just kept going downhill until the most recent episode. xD

I don’t think that “S” itself was particularly dangerous initially, other than for Shadow. Most of the skaters that we see seem to play fair and engage in contests of pure skill, even though it’s always been an “anything goes” sort of thing. Of course, it could be because the best skaters won’t get thrown off by petty tricks so it’s not worth trying them, but in the end, the result is the same. It’s only when Adam reappeared on the scene (from other people’s reactions, it seems clear that he’s been missing for a while since nobody could capture his interest) with his Langa-obsession that he started to contribute his own brand of madness, but that’s limited only to him. Unless someone is skating against Adam or Shadow (or that gang in the prelims), the majority of races are just normal races on a challenging track. Yes, they’re illegal (though it boggles my mind as to why: can’t Adam just buy it and turn it into “private property” so that he can do whatever he wants on it?) (though I guess it’s understandable since buying it would be a matter of public record and he’s keeping his skating life and public life separate) (but then can’t he get someone else to buy it for him?), but part of the attraction of skating is developing new things (like when Reki is gushing about ollies) and figuring out how to “skate anywhere,” so challenging locations like an abandoned mine and factory are places that people can do that. Like taking a turn with what Miya/Reki did by riding the board sideways, and improving on it by instead using a Caspar Slide. Or the various ways Langa goes through the factory (dropping down a broken beam, skating down the railing, using Joe’s momentum on the other beam to push himself forward, etc.). I think that Adam must have chosen that place for a variety of reasons, but one would have been its ability to promote improvisation/the evolution of skating in the hopes that he could find someone who would excite him. Which is why he’s so disappointed by Cherry’s “overcalculated”/boring skating.

After Adam gets arrested, though, I think that “S” will shut down simply because it’s Adam’s influence that’s kept the police away for so long. Tadashi takes care of the logistics, but that’s because that’s what Adam’s told him to do. But I don’t think Tadashi will betray him just to get it closed. (I also don’t think he phoned it in the first time, as I’ve seen other people speculate. I do think that the explanation is as it was presented: the prosecutor was suspicious about an area that was taken out of the patrol route, so she used her authority to override Adam’s bribes.) We’re talking about someone who will go to jail for a crime he didn’t commit to protect his boss. He’s not going to call down the police and risk them getting caught up in the net and in trouble.

#sk8 #sk8 the infinity #skate the infinity #sk8 adam #shindo ainosuke #ainosuke shindo #sk8 snake #kikuchi tadashi #tadashi kikuchi #sk8 snow #sk8 langa #hasegawa langa #langa hasegawa #sk8 reki #kyan reki #reki kyan #analysis #long post #mine

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race-week · 3 years

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heyy al, I have a bone to pick with the calander of 2021, I know the pandemic is still ongoing however I dislike how the f1 races have decreased the number of races for the f2 drivers. in addition the weird time gaps between the races can negatively effect the performance the drivers as it kills the momentum of their performance. even for the engineers and the pit stop guys, it kills the momentum which is just being unfair to all the other teams. I mean last year f2 had 12 rounds, this year f2 has 8 even though there is an extra race per round. The sparsely spread out calendar just doesn't sit right with me, it looks like they aren't prioritizing the rest of the drivers in motorsport. the easiest fix was if they could have literally done 12 rounds all on the same weekend as f1, exactly like Monaco and Baku, even logistically it makes sense because they wouldn't have to buy extra tickets and transportation and the organization would take less time, instead they decided to throw in random 6 week gaps.

Hi anon!

Yeah I agree it doesn’t really make sense, they said that they were initially doing it for the teams to save money, as it costs a lot for the teams who are running in f2 and f3 to have enough people as well as the facilities for 5 race cars. So they split the weekends but they split them really weirdly which left f2 with basically half of their races being on street tracks (Monaco, Baku, Jeddah, Sochi - hybrid street track) and so many of the F3 races really bunched up

I made this before the start of the season and before some things changed but you can see the massive gaps between the f2 races (green is race, yellow is testing)

It also doesn’t make sense as a cost effective thing that firstly most of the f2 races are fly aways (meaning all of the equipment needs to be flown to the track rather than be driven in the big trucks) which costs more money and f3 are doing a race in the USA

Honestly none of it makes sense and it draws some of the excitement out of the championship.

Thanks for the message

#anon ask

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joontier · 4 years

Text

“One-Love”| CH. 2 - The Newcomer

–> Summary: Love translates to zero in the tennis scoring system – the only thing keeping the scoreless player on the court is his love for the game.

–> Pairings: jung hoseok x female reader; kim seokjin x female reader

–> Rating: NC17

–> Genre/warnings: tennis player hoseok! au; tennis player seokjin! au; crazy rich asians inspired! au; fluff, humor (as usual), eventual smut; more warnings as the story progresses

–> Words: 2.4k

–> A/N: Words that are both in bold and italics are spoken in Korean

“One-Love” Masterlist

Chapter 2: The Newcomer

“Jung Hoseok!”

He doesn’t even spare you a glance when he runs past you, letting out an evil cackle. “That’s right! Run away before I catch up Jung!”

“Ah your Korean is improving! I wish your legs would too!”

Tennis lessons with Hoseok are on a daily basis now: mornings with him during Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays and you spend afternoons with him during the remaining days. Although Hoseok won’t be able to beat you in a game anytime soon, the boy is continuously working on his ground shots and is making daily progress.

Hoseok’s regular training has not only drastically improved his skills but also your father’s tennis clinic. For some reason, your cheeky stranger-turned-friend had convinced at least twenty more people to play tennis, both students and parents alike. Soon enough, your dad’s tennis clinic was flourishing. All six courts at Thames were fully-booked during mornings and afternoons.

When Hoseok initially expressed his intention to train daily, it had worried your father because he knew daily practice could easily burn Hoseok out and eventually stop playing altogether and for Hoseok was not worth the risk, especially for someone like him who has shown so much potential in such a short period of time.

Hoseok was relentless nevertheless, constantly convincing your father to have his trainings scheduled on a daily basis. As much as your father enjoys teaching the sport he loves the most, he always prioritizes his students’ well-being before anything else.

When you had asked Hoseok about it, he was undecided if he had plans of going professional. All he knew was that he wanted to take his training seriously, wherever it may take him in the future. He had the markings of a true athlete – passionate and determined, but in this discipline, you can only get so far without support (and later on, sponsors).

Your father then advised Hoseok to voice this concern to his parents to help him decide. The boy came to practice one afternoon, his mother trailing behind him and both clad in a matching all-white ensemble just like when you first saw Hoseok. Mrs. Jung, unsurprisingly just as bright as her son, was smiling the whole way though. “Well, Hobi talks so much about it that I wanted to try it for myself too,” she jokes as Hoseok shows her around and introduces her to the rest of the group.

Hoseok leaves his mother with your dad for the meanwhile while he gets his warm-ups done. She tells him on, telling stories of how her son would come home all sticky from practice, sharing what he had done both at school and during training. “Truth is…” she starts, watching her son jog laps around the court, “…I’ve never seen my son so happy before. He’s even doing better in school nowadays! I know he’s already smart but he’s definitely different now…”

“Your son is very smart, Mrs. Jung,” you can’t help but attest her statement. It’s the truth anyways and you’re going to support you friend all the way.

“Ah you must be ________!” Mrs. Jung extends her arm out and you return the gesture. “Oh you’re too sweet. No wonder Hobi lik—”

“Mom!” Hoseok cuts in quickly, chuckling nervously. “Sorry, she gets carried away all the time.” He pulls her away from where you and your dad were standing, muttering about learning basic stretching routines and spreading rumors as he drags her away.

“Seokjin Kim,” Nadia mutters from where she’s seated from the bleachers, only a meter away from where you’re standing in the court. With one hand holding up the cookie she’s munching on, the other sweeps away the crumbs that fall on the glossy pages of her book.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Seokjin Kim!” Her voice gets louder, catching the attention of a few students who were passing by. She points with a chocolate chip-stained finger to the boy who’s drawing attention to himself with his unforeseen talent.

“Seokjin Kim – one year ahead, owns two penthouses at Narra Residences aka just the most expensive residential building in this country? Shipping magnate? Kim Logistics? DM Forwarding Services? Surely, you’ve heard one of those names…” You don’t answer, not following where she’s this conversation was heading. “…right?” She purses her lips at you, ‘tsk’-ing at your lack of knowledge on these ‘basic’ things. Honestly, you haven’t been paying much attention to what she’s telling you for the past minute, but who could possibly have?

His broad shoulders alone are enough to demand attention. You honestly would have mistaken him for a swimmer than a tennis player with the sheer broadness of it. The boy unbelievably has sharp features too for someone who is allegedly around your age. Strong brows, cat-like eyes, and those lips, god! You don’t even want to start on those plump lips, how wonderful it must feel to touch them with the pads of your fingers, how soft they must be against your slightly calloused fingers. As if on cue, the stranger lets his tongue poke out a little to moisten those glorious lips that it takes such a great effort from you not to gasp.

Nearly inhuman face aside, you are at awe at how he hits the ball with such power. Almost all his shots land near the baseline. For once you see Agus, one of the lead instructors, return them with slight struggle. For now, tennis at Thames was viewed as more of additional fitness regime for students and parents alike. Thames wasn’t known for homing aspiring tennis players, though that was ought to change when your dad came to the school. That’s why when Seokjin readies himself for a serve, you see Agus move a few steps behind the baseline, feet shuffling – one thing latter the only does when he’s nervous.

Admittedly, there was still obviously plenty to work on – Seokjin’s forehand is comparatively weak, his slices only land with pure luck but this new kid’s backhand and serves are fatal. He makes up the lack of spin with his strength, which is by the way, evidenced by the expanse of skin afforded by his sleeveless dry-fit top where his toned arms are on full display.

Surely this boy couldn’t possibly be a year older than you as mentioned by Nadia? With a face and body like that?

“Well honey, let me fill you in on the basics. Seokjin Kim, one of two heirs of shipping magnate Hyungjin Kim. Nearing a century in the industry, Kim Logistics is one of the leading multinational logistics company, supporting global trade in over a hundred countries and servicing the world through eighty thousand employees. Kim Logistics has monopolized the shipping industry particularly in Asia where the shortened name ‘KimLo’ has been declared a household name for forwarding services.”

You let out a puff of air, breathless even though Nadia did all the speaking. How she learned all this information was beyond you. “On top of that, his dad is included in Forbes Korea’s Top 20.”

“Who are you talking about?” The same question is heard for the second time today, this time by Hoseok who sets his tennis bag down beside a sighing Nadia. “Do y’all even know a single soul in this campus?”

“Nope. Sorry who are you again?”

“Hey! I just got here!”

As Hoseok rummages through his bag for his shoes, you tell him about the newcomer, Nadia reluctantly filling in the details you couldn’t remember. Just like you, Hoseok doesn’t really pay attention to what this Seokjin dude has to offer, how much his family was worth, or what damned list his father is on. He watches you watch the newcomer with such fascination, wondering if you find him attractive or you were just curious. Undoubtedly, Seokjin Kim was truly a sight to behold, that he can admit to himself but will never say out loud, not when there’s going to be another guy who could possibly steal all your attention.

You don’t even notice that he’s gotten braces.

If it wasn’t obvious enough, Hoseok has been harboring quite the crush on you. His mother knows, his best friend Namjoon knows, Jimin knows (for some reason, the now eight-year-president has the sense for these things), twins Jason and Jake from tennis know, heck, even Mickey, the family dog, probably knows he likes you! Obviously like the coward that he is, there is absolutely no way he’s going to confess his feelings, not when you’re already great friends. He’s already decided that your friendship is worth more than a romantic one.

Soon enough, your father calls you both to the court for practice. You both bid Nadia goodbye, who decides it’s time for to her to go home and finish some school work. Your dad waves, gesturing for you to come over where he is, now standing beside Seokjin. Hoseok’s heart clenches when you greet the new guy, jealousy adding to the pain brought about by the new installments on his teeth. Nevertheless, he follows suit, flashing Seokjin a smile. When you finally notice his braces, you give him a flick on his forearm, gesturing to the brackets on his teeth. Hoseok’s stance straightens at this, chest puffing out lightly before you both head off to do your warm-ups.

After your warm-ups with him, Hoseok barely got to talk to you during practice.

Your father has made you do a practice set with the newcomer. You win the grueling match with a tight score of 7-5, a set that lasted for an hour and has every one on the courts on edge. The afternoon training sessions had already ended halfway through your match and nearly all of the trainees present became spectators. Although Seokjin had won the first two games, you had managed to catch up, nerves wearing out. Seokjin was strong and agile but you outsmarted him, returning his shots to his forehand and tiring him out by making him run all over.

You were… for lack of a more appropriate word, exhausted. Every fiber of your muscle was on fire, you were sweating more than you did in a sauna, and you were gasping for breath after every game. At four all, you had completely lost track of scoring, fully depending on the umpire. Truthfully, you were doubtful that you could score a game against Seokjin, let alone beat him.

You had lost hope the moment your father told you to play a set with the Seokjin.

You knew this set wasn’t only to see how Seokjin plays – his strengths and weaknesses but this match was also a critical point at your father’s reputation. There were plenty of people watching, more from those who were on their way home from their afternoon activities. If you would win, your father’s credibility could be strengthened, despite having just half of the strength Seokjin possesses. You didn’t even want to think about the consequences of losing.

Hoseok could see right through the façade you were putting up during the first games – you were anxious. You talked less, you barely smiled and if you did, it looked forced. The rest of the spectators looked just as intense as you and Seokjin: muted, save the resonating sound of the fuzzy ball hitting against the strings of the racket. Hoseok rummages through his bag and takes out his two iPads and clicks on the Notes applications. The umpire calls for a water break, the perfect opportunity. He holds both gadgets on his hands whooping and cheering for you.

‘If it were easy I would do it!’ ‘I stayed up all night doing this sign.’

Your cheeks are on fire, hiding your face with a towel from the embarrassment. The onlookers join in instantly, cheering under Hoseok’s lead. Your dad and Seokjin even laughs when Hoseok doesn’t leave Seokjin out, cheering him on as well. Hoseok smiles when he sees the same slowly etch into your anxious features. He’s supposed to leave now, his training over and all, but he decides to stay despite the missed call and text messages he’s been receiving from his driver and his mom. Before you both knew it, the set ends and some of the spectators go nearer and congratulate you.

Hoseok deems this as his time to take leave, handing his bags to his driver Adit. He takes another look at you who’s attending to all those who have come to you and Seokjin to commend the match. When the small crowd clears away, you’re left with just Seokjin. You have been looking for Hoseok when the match as you owe him a great deal of thanks. Your eyes drift left to right searching for the boy with the gleaming smile. That’s odd, since Hoseok never leaves without saying goodbye.

When Seokjin calls your name, your searching is momentarily stopped. “Hey, great game earlier.” You realize that the two of you have never talked when the match ended, so you shake his hand with an apologetic smile. “You gave me a hard time back there.” He laughs at this, muttering something about trying at the very least.

“I guess we’ll be seeing each other more often then?”

“Ye-oh!” You’re caught mid-sentence when you accidentally step on a stray ball. You feel your knee giving in but a pair of strong arms catch you. One hand initially lands on your breast but your savior immediately adjusts it down to your waist to help you get up.

Holy fuck!

You’re rendered speechless at what just transpired, shuffling your feet so you turn face to face with Seokjin. “I-I uhh…” You have lost absolutely all coherence and that carnal feeling that shoots through your core. You never had experience with a boy before, let alone have one grope you. Good god. You were royally fucked. It doesn’t help that Seokjin is also staring at you, eyes a lighter brown with the sunlight in his eyes. You gulp as your eyes travel to his neck…were men’s necks always this…delectable? He seems even hotter now that he’s drenched in sweat. ‘No!’ shouts the little voice at the back of your head, screaming at you for the past ten seconds, scolding at you for not getting ahold of yourself.

Your father coughs, breaking the tension-filled air instantaneously. He bids goodbye as he hands you your tennis bag. Your father doesn’t linger any longer, yet you know he’s expecting you to follow at once. Settling with a curt wave towards Seokjin, you jog after your dad who’s walking farther away.

#hyunglinenetwork #btswritersnet #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #jung hoseok #kim seokjin #bts series #bts fluff #bts j-hope #bts jin #eventual smut #bts tennis player au #hoseok x reader #seokjin x reader

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