#anyway i feel the unreasonable need to study psychology just for him

[pepi-nillo]

what a shame that i'm not majoring in psychology, i'd love to dissect hjw until i can explain everything that's wrong with him

[zenosanalytic]

Growing Up is Hard; It’s Hard and Nobody Understands

So I noticed netflix has Neon Genesis Evangelion up last week and started watching it front to back for the first time ever(this happens to have coincided with me being in a down-mood for your edification, dear readers u_u), finished it today, REALLY liked it, and I wanted to try my hand at explaining what the hell is even going on in NGE cuz it actl seemed super-clear to me(a person who has been consuming NGE analysis and post-NGE media for literally 25 years) u_u

Surface Plot; Or NERV: What the Hell Is It?

I’ll try to make this as brief as possible: An organization of super-wealthy individuals calling itself Seele(looking this up, it means soul in german) wants to possess the power of God. The final third or so of the series is clear on this; it’s all about power. Ikari Yui, a geneticist, is recruited by this organization, and her husband Gendo(having taken her name which says a LOT given typical Japanese practice) comes with her. In seeking out this power, they discover a hollow sphere underneath Antarctica(”The White Moon”), send an expedition there under the guise of the UN, encounter an entity with this power which they label an “Angel”, and do SOMETHING which prompts it to explode the continent flooding the earth and killing half the population(that Gendo left beforehand implies this may have been intentional, or that a bad outcome to Seele’s approach was easy to predict, tho in typical Gendo fashion, his is the only ass he cared to save).

Afterwards Seele blame the scientists for this outcome and send Gendo on a salvage mission which recovers both remains of the Angel, now dubbed “Adam”, and a device they dub “the spear of Longinus”. Seele creates Gehirn to study these remains for practical use; they clone “Adam” and dub the result Evas(Eves). Having cloned them, they now need a way to use and control them as the Evas are non-responsive. They hit on the idea of injecting people into them via the Entry Plug system, presumably to act as a brain. The first person to try this, Ikari Yui, was absorbed by the Eva(Unit 01); the second(Soryu Kyoko Zeppelin; Asuka’s mother) was partially psychologically absorbed by Unit 02, psychologically and mentally injured by this, institutionalized, abandoned by her shit USian husband Langley who remarried to her LEAD DOCTOR, and eventual kills herself in a hanging which Asuka either is the first to discover or, given her memories of promising to die with her/begging her not to do it, was present for. An important thing to note about this: Shinji and Asuka’s ability to sync with their Evas comes from the fact that their mothers are PART of their Eva’s identity, and all of their classmates are potential pilot-candidates. The implication here is that Seele KNEW this happened when you put adults into an Angel, and they KEPT DOING IT ANYWAY to create more pilots, but there’s no confirmation of that in series.

After the attempt at human adult control fails, Gendo combines Yui’s DNA with Adam’s and creates Rei. At the same time he is doing this another team, under Akagi Naoko, is developing Magi, a biomechanical computer for simulating the human mind(again: certain implication to this re: Evas though the series never says anything). Naoko is romantically interested in Gendo, and they start getting together(Gendo’s too much of an asshole to be said to date, I think). After Rei, a toddler, tells her Gendo calls her an “old woman” in private, not realizing this is insulting, Naoko kills her, then kills herself out of shame over having MURDERED A CHILD, and Gehirn is folded into a new organization, NERV, which Gendo is put in charge of. Rei forms the basis of the second attempt at controlling the Evas; child-pilots.

How they use Rei for this I’m not exactly sure. It could be because Rei is cloned from Yui(she easily syncs with Unit 01 before Shinji bonds with it completely), or because she’s part Angel via her Adam element(Kaworu says Angels merge with one another easily and naturally), or it could be they did something with Rei I’s corpse and Unit 00(I dont see how as it seems to require a LIVE pilot). Regardless, she is raised to be the pilot for 00, the prototype. MUCH later, when the rest of the Angels finally decide to come looking for Adam, Shinji is called in, and after his success Asuka(who like Rei and unlike Shinji has been training to pilot her whole life) is called to Nerv headquarters(under Japan, in the “Black Moon”; a second spherical hollow where they found another Angel they call Lilith) too.

Regardless the child-pilots are only a step in Nerv and Seele’s plans, as Rei is ALSO the template for the Dummy Plug system, the final step in complete control of Eva units. To put it simply, the Dummy Plugs are Rei-clones without her personality or memories, and will just do whatever the heck they’re ordered to. At least once during the series(and I’d argue two, possibly three times) Rei dies and is replaced by one of these clones through some process, which involves what looks like a pre 00 Eva’s spine and probably a Magi-like backup, which transfers her personality and memories into the new body.

So what is Nerv? Well it’s hard to say EXACTLY because Gendo is in some sort of conflict with Seele(and I want to keep my watches of End of Evangelion out of this post; to focus entirely on JUST NGE itself) and Nerv IS Gendo, but as the series states repeatedly it’s an attempt to control the future of humanity by controlling what they call “the power of god” which, given that it’s what most distinguishes the “Angels”, is the AT, or “Absolute Terror”, Field. What is the AT Field? It’s a field that can make or unmake any kind of matter or energy from basically nothing, and it also seems to have a strong tie to what you could call the Ego; to desires and sense-of-self. An AT Field gets stronger when the person generating it is experiencing powerful emotions; Confidence, sure, but also Fear, Abandonment, the Will to Live, and Anger.

That last bit is very important. Why? Strong AT Field effects require a powerful emotional motivation in the pilot combined with high sync-rates with the Eva(basically a lobotomized Angel-clone) generating the Field. The three pilots we meet, the Strongest candidates, are all exceedingly traumatized people, and Gendo is the direct cause of the trauma of two of them. At no point in the series is Gendo ever a good father to Shinji, he is CONSTANTLY unreasonable, neglectful, and cruel to him; he’s kinder to Rei but at the same time her loneliness, the state of her “home”, and her lack of self worth shows that he rarely interacts with her outside of missions or explains what’s going on beyond bald facts; and he COMPLETELY ignores Asuka, a deeply lonely child with a history of abandonment and close brushes with death; he even delegates bumping her from the program. This point is important because it’s important to recognize that Gendo is a bad dad on PURPOSE; that he instrumentalizes his bad dadness to traumatize Shinji(and Rei and Asuka, though sadly the series doesn’t focus on them enough for us to see much) as much as he can, because he thinks that trauma, that emotional instability and anger, MAKES SHINJI A MORE USEFUL PILOT; ie lets him generate more powerful AT Fields. This is never said clearly, but it’s clearly what’s going on as forcing Unit 01(and thus Shinji) into awful, heartbreaking, life-threatening situations is vital to his plan. Gendo’s a piece of shit, and I want ppl to recognize just HOW BIG a piece of shit he is, because I feel this powerfully.

And for what? For Power. To be “God”. To get the highest numbers. To generate the MOST Invincible Invincibility Shield. For Ridiculous, Absurd, Childish reasons. For, you know, the same reasons rich and powerful people do all the fucked up shit they do in the real world where giant magic robots thankfully DONT exist.

And how do they plan to do this? Through “Human Instrumentation”, which will literally kill everyone by turning them all into goo.

Metaplot; Or “SHINJI! Don’t Get in that Robot!!”

So, maybe this is just because(as said previously) I’ve been reading NGE Analysis and consuming media which NGE heavily inspired for ~25 years, but I think it’s old hat at this point to note that Neon Genesis Evangelion is ALSO an allegory for becoming an adult, centered on Shinji. However, it’s just really SO on the nose in this, so PERFECT as such a narrative, that I want to run through it real quick. Also: A Cruel Angel’s Thesis is basically a thesis-statement for this series; please check out the lyrics.

So Shinji is living under the guardianship of a teacher(yup: this series even takes a swing at how our society uses schools to warehouse kids so their parents can waste their lives producing “Value” instead of raising them), when the shitty dad that abandoned him decides he has a use for him after all and calls him up.

On meeting with a child he has not seen SINCE HE WAS A TODDLER LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM ON THE STREET WHEN HIS MOTHER DIED he immediately ambushes him with the command that he get in a huge body(that he grow up) to do what? Whatever Gendo tells him to, but specifically: commit acts of violence for Gendo and Seele’s profit. He tells him this will protect people; meanwhile doing it destroys those peoples’ literal homes. The rest of the series is a series of monotonous, incomprehensible “Tests” judging his, and his peers, worthiness for approval and affection on the basis of how well they can use those giant bodies to do what Gendo tells them(so: capitalist work), punctuated by unpredictable, brutal, traumatizing, and physically dangerous events(so: capitalist work). Every friend, and the one lover, he meets, he is placed in unnecessary, destructive competition with and, when they are male, forced to attack and(in the case of the one lover, Kaworu) kill them; this last comment on homophobia is so stark and obvs I don’t even feel like you can CALL it subtext, even IF it plays out over mostly a single episode(honestly this plotline should have been given more time). And all the time they’re doing this, they must ALSO continue going to school and maintaining the front that they’re happy smiley Heroes, completely normal and not traumatized at all, and Nerv and the government that lets them run this city is a great and wonderful organization. Is this not what becoming an adult, over your teens and 20s, feels like?

And then there’s Seele and Nerv. Able to move state governments as they wish, Seele CAUSED Second Impact(Global Warming). By not returning Adam’s remains, they’re CAUSING the Angel attacks on Nerv meant to retrieve them(the threat of Human extinction). The Angels eventually begin trying to communicate and Nerv’s response? Destroy them before they can; blow up the Evas(and their pilots) if they succeed. And to top it all off Seele and Nerv are actually trying to CAUSE the very extinction(Third Impact) they claim to be preventing! Seele and Nerv are just SUCH good metaphors for capitalism in our modern day.

The transwoman reading of Shinji also seems pretty dang strong to me, though I’ll only deal with it shallowly. Shinji is the only “male” of all the pilots. Outside of command and security, most Nerv staff are women. Being an Eva pilot, being Nerv staff, is marked as “feminine”, and Shinji is an Eva pilot; is a Nerv staffer. The body he gets into, Unit 01, acts as a metaphor for the large, imposing, masculine body he’s expected to have as an adult “man”, yet it’s also spiritually his mom -feminine- and his ability to use it is tied DIRECTLY with his ability to “Sync” with that spirit; with his ease and comfort being feminine. Even at the level of mere aesthetics, Shinji’s plugsuit makes him appear to have breasts! Going a bit deeper, he initially relates to the women around him by relating to their gender. He’s most at ease with Rei because of the personality traits she shares with him which, we know from his gender-policing of Misato from earlier in the series, are traits he considers feminine(ie: he doesn’t feel like Misato has them, so he thinks she’s being a woman “wrong” and gets oddly offended by this in a way that really feels more about him than her). Asuka is constantly expressing her frustration with him for not “being a man”, ie, for being “feminine” in her eyes, and he isn’t really bothered by it(her calling him an idiot seems to stick much more firmly). Misato and Shinji establish a modus vevendi when she accepts him as he is, allowing him to do the household chores and to cook; he’s comfortable and happy when accepted into roles his culture considers feminine, while most of the series is him bucking AGAINST the masculinity forced on him by Nerv, his father, and others. Again: this is a very surface-level engagement with the subject, but even at that shallow level I feel like the case for reading Shinji as a transwoman is pretty solid.

Dislikes

It’s not a perfect series by any means of course.

There’s allot of dialogue that’s pure 90s nonsense, though the series mostly includes it only to shoot it down.

Like I said above, I don’t think Rei and Asuka really get the time or attention they deserve. In general the series treatment of women is ...Weird... especially around the issue of sex. It’s really strange; in many ways it’s far better than most anime(spcl from that period) on this. Women are ACTUAL PEOPLE with psychology, opinions, and pasts; they’re allowed to have emotions of their own, and struggles, and to be damn competent; they are independent and their own selves rather than accessories or “prizes” to men. But on the issue of feminine sexuality it just gets suddenly so weird in this very particular old-school misogynist way. Like: it treats women’s attraction and reactions TO relationships as something devoid of and impenetrable to reason, without belittling the emotions(the desire and hurt) behind those reactions. That’s the only way I can describe it, and it’s so strange to see something that is both so insulting and sympathetic at once. Oh, and the Akagis in particular are done super-dirty for seemingly no reason I can see, tho I can guess, and Akagi Ritsuki is CLEARLY a lesbian(possibly bi lesbian) and also Rose Lalonde(srsl; her Deal should have been an unrequited, unspoken crush on Misato. They openly dealt with queerness re: Kaworu and Shinji they could have done it here too).

The Kaworu storyline should have been a series of episodes or even developed from the start with him as another pilot(maybe replace Toji with him), though they’d have to tone down his weirdness, at least at the start. A deeper dive on Shinji’s sexuality(honestly his attraction to Kaworu is SO much more immediate and believable than anything we see with him and Asuka, which there is basically nothing of beyond the ep where they had to do choreography for a fight, and that’s not developed on) would have really been appreciated, and having Kaworu be a bigger part of the series would have facilitated that.

Also honestly the whole series feels a bit rushed? Spcl the second half. Like I said: I haven’t done any followup reading lately, but I remember there being some budget problems or something, so maybe that’s the cause. Ironically it might actl also be why it’s as GOOD as it is; having to keep it short forces you to write concise and lean, and that’s probably why its themes and message are so clear. But, I’d have liked more rambling for character development, and more time spent on seeing Rei and Asuka react to the stresses we saw Shinji face(also they never really get moments to shine like he does; another negative common to the medium and genre). Asuka in particular, as a Japanese German with a USian temperament abandoned by her parents, already an outsider in SO many ways, coming to live in an entirely different culture where she’s even MORE of an outsider; forced to live with people(Misato and Shinji) she finds it impossible to relate to or connect with; who has literally NO ONE beside a single adult guardian who totally blows her off THE WHOLE SERIES after delivering her; PLUS her awful past: there’s just SO MUCH material I’d have loved to see explored more slowly and with greater depth, detail, and sympathy even if what IS there already is pretty powerful and effecting. She’s SUCH a good Vriska(so I’d also have loved to see her break more shit too >:>)

Conclusion

So Anyway: I really liked this series. It had its problems, there are things I’d have liked to see, but it absolutely deserves the reputation it has. I might write more about this, I might do a watch through INCLUDING End of Evangelion(which actl makes much more sense having watched the series, though having done so makes Shinji’s masturbation scene comPLETELY out of left-field like where the hell did THAT come from); we’ll see.

[villlainarc]

All of These Stars (Will Guide Us Home)

Summary: Logan had a guardian angel. Okay. He could sort of work with that.

Angels were real. He could work with that a bit less, though he supposed it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

His guardian angel was very pretty and absolutely fascinating—from an objective and scientific standpoint, of course. He knew that those two were indisputable facts, so he didn’t have a problem with that, he could accept that.

The fact that he had a guardian angel meant he needed help.

Oh, absolutely not. Logan couldn’t even pretend to work with that.

In which Logan finds himself stuck with a guardian angel and a strange feeling blossoming between them.

Pairing: Logince

Warnings: brief mention of not eating (though it isn’t intentional), swearing, it gets real sad before it gets happy again

Word Count: 11,504

Taglist (ask to be added!): @max-is-tired @raaindropps @kiribakuandcats @main-chive

Notes: for the sanders sides reverse bang, run by @sanderssidesfanfiction. as per the rules of the reverse bang, the art this is inspired by was done by none other than @2queer2deer and is here

and finally, many thanks to ren for offering to beta this after it got too long for me to catch everything myself and my brain gave up on me fjskskd

ao3

_________________________

Logan was a neuroscientist. He knew that a fight or flight response was triggered when the human brain was overwhelmed and stressed. He knew exactly how it dealt with information and that if need be, it would formulate more believable scenarios when the current one couldn’t be processed. He knew that when it came to sleep deprivation, intense hallucinations would only start after a full seventy-two hours of no sleep.

Logan was not overwhelmed. Logan’s mind had always processed things in the way it should have, and he was not prone to coming up with scenarios that had never happened. While it wasn’t as much sleep as would have been ideal—seeing as he had been consistently sleep deprived for the past week—Logan had still slept for a full seven and a half hours last night.

And that’s why, for the life of him, he could not figure out why there appeared to be an angel in the middle of his lab.

“Ah,” the angel said, turning around, completely oblivious to the fact that it (he?) was not supposed to exist. “You must be Logan.”

So. The angel knew his name. Logan found himself nodding blankly in response, trying to think up some sort of explanation for why there would be a fucking angel in his lab.

“Nice to meet you then, Logan. How are you?” the angel asked, still clueless about how utterly impossible its (his?) being here was. He (Logan had decided somewhere in the back of his mind that calling something humanoid “it” felt distinctly wrong) lifted himself onto one of the stainless steel tables littered about the lab, swinging his feet as he continued talking. “I’m Roman,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Logan blinked. The angel—or Roman, as Logan supposed he should refer to him—was sitting on his lab table, and that’s about all Logan’s mind could process at the moment. Acting on the one thing that made sense to him, Logan took a step forward. “Get off my lab table.” After taking a breath and making a very conscious effort not to scream, he tacked on a clipped, “Please.”

“Oh! Sorry, yes. I’ll do that.” Roman pushed himself smoothly off the lab table, landing on the ground with barely a sound.

“Right,” Logan said under his breath. “Right,” he repeated, this time directed more at Roman than himself. “I’m going to have to wipe that down, and then you’re going to tell me exactly why you’re here, how you know who I am, whether or not you’re actually an angel, how your wings work, and then you’re going to get the fuck out of my lab.” With that, Logan felt perfectly secure in grabbing a clean cloth and a spray bottle of bleach before walking back to the offending lab table and wiping it down thoroughly.

“I think you’re going to have to repeat all those questions for me, one at a time, and at a far slower pace,” Roman said, hovering in the background once Logan had begun cleaning. “I caught exactly none of it.”

“Yes,” Logan agreed. “I apologize, I was rambling a bit. Give me one moment and I’ll be right with you.” With a final swipe of the cloth, Logan put away the cleaning supplies and pulled a notepad out of his lab coat. “Now,” he said, scrawling something across the page as he sat down, “please, have a seat in this chair right across from me and then answer this to start: why are you here?”

“Why, for you, of course! I’m your guardian angel, Logan, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

That raised a fair few more questions than it answered, but Logan wasn’t going to think too hard on that just yet. He finished noting what Roman had said and then moved on to his next question. “I had asked you how you knew who I was, but I think that question just answered itself, so I’m going to skip it.” Logan tapped his pen against the notepad for a moment, recalling what he’d said next. “Ah, and then I asked if you were actually an angel, which, again, I feel has been sufficiently explained. Now then, how do your wings work?”

“Like any wings would work, I suppose,” Roman said, ruffling his feathers a bit as he stretched them out to their full width. Logan winced as a few feathers fell to the floor, making a mental note to sweep them up as soon as he could. “I flap them, and they help me fly. What else would you like to know about them?”

“Hm, they do protrude from your back, correct? And you were born with them?”

“Yes, and yes, I— where are you going?” Logan had gotten up from his chair while Roman had been in the middle of speaking, poking about his lab for something.

“Just getting a pair of gloves. Please, don’t mind me. You can continue.”

“Oh, no, that’s alright. I was pretty much done. But may I ask why you’re looking for gloves?”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a quick nod. “I suppose I shouldn’t have assumed before going to get them, but… would you mind if I touched your wings? I’m curious as to how they feel.”

“Absolutely! Be my guest.”

“Thank you. Could I ask you a few more questions while I work?”

“Ask away, darling.”

“In that case—” Logan pulled the gloves over his hands with a snap, walking up behind Roman, “—I hope this isn’t too forward or uncouth, but what exactly does it mean to be an angel? On Earth, we have a multitude of myths and ideas about what they are, how they act, where they come from, what they do, and so on. What’s the truth?”

“Hm, I can’t really answer that. Since you’re a mortal, there are certain things I’m simply not allowed to tell you. But! I can say that every culture got at least a few aspects right. Every story holds a grain of truth, and the stories of angels are no different.” Roman paused, and Logan heard the first few hints of a frown enter his voice. “What are you doing back there, anyway? It tickles.”

“Me? Oh, I’m just looking for muscles or bones, I suppose, though anything interesting would do. I’m not sure. Do you happen to know what your wings are made of?”

“Um. Muscle, probably? And bone and feathers? I’m not sure, honestly. It’s not something that’s of particular importance, you know?”

“I see,” Logan said, still running his hands through Roman’s feathers. “They appear to be almost identical to bird wings, did you know that?”

“…No? Is that a good thing?”

“It means they were specifically designed for flight, likely longer flights as well. They’re more similar in structure to the wings of a bird of prey, though I suppose that would make sense, especially considering that the rest of you is humanoid and we too are a predatory species. So yes,” Logan concluded, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’d say that is a good thing.”

Roman turned his head slightly, watching Logan pull off his gloves and put them carefully in a waste container with a curious look in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad.”

“Do you mind if I take a few of your feathers to study them?” Upon seeing Roman bristle a little at the thought, Logan added swiftly, “I was only referring to the ones that have fallen to the floor, I wouldn’t take them directly from your wings, not to worry.”

“I don’t see why not, then. You didn’t have to ask, you know.”

Logan shrugged. “It’s always better to ask about everything when working with human—or humanoid, in your case—test subjects.”

“Hm,” Roman replied, cocking his head to the side as Logan lifted a few feathers from the ground with a pair of tweezers before carefully sealing them in a plastic bag.

Once he’d done that though, Logan’s scientific curiosity immediately waned, leaving only a looming sense of panic because, as he’d somehow managed to forget, there was a fucking angel in his science lab and absolutely no protocol for handling such a situation. “I need to sit down,” he decided aloud.

“Good idea,” Roman hummed, getting out of his own chair and making his way around the lab. “This is where you work, huh?”

“Yes. Don’t touch a thing.” Logan’s words were purely instinctual, any rational thought he may have had vanishing rapidly.

“Noted,” Roman replied, making a show of folding his hands behind his back before peering into a microscope. “You’re a neuroscientist, right?”

“Shouldn’t you already know that? Being my ‘guardian angel’ and all,” Logan said, and he would have put finger quotes around the words “guardian angel” if his hands were not currently occupied with holding his head between them. Logically, Logan knew his sarcasm and disbelief stemmed from the fact that he was currently falling into denial but emotionally, Logan was very far from ready to acknowledge the fact that angels just might exist—no, scratch that—that they did exist.

“Oh, of course I knew that. I’m merely trying to make small talk. You seem a bit overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“This ‘small talk’ is only serving to make me more overwhelmed.”

“Ah. Would you prefer if I got straight to the core of your psychological issues and the reason you’ve been deemed worthy of being assigned a guardian angel?”

“…I’m going to have to say no to that. What would really help is you shutting the fuck up so I can think straight.”

“Jeez, I knew you weren’t good at making friends, but I didn’t—”

“So sorry, did you not hear when I asked for complete silence?”

“Right, right. Got it. Shutting up now.”

Logan let out a sigh at that, letting his head drop once more into his hands.

He had a guardian angel. Okay. He could sort of work with that.

Angels were real. He could work with that a bit less, though he supposed it wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

The angel was very pretty and absolutely fascinating—from an objective and scientific standpoint, of course. He knew that those were just indisputable facts, so he didn’t have a problem with that, he could accept that.

The fact that he had a guardian angel meant that he needed help.

Oh, absolutely not. Logan couldn’t even pretend to work with that.

Having come to a decision, he lifted his head from his hands. “You need to get out. Now.”

Roman blinked at him from his place behind a different microscope than the one he’d been near before. “I— what? Why?”

“I don’t need—nor do I want a guardian angel, so I’m asking you to leave. That’s all, I can assure you it’s not personal.”

“Logan, darling, I’m frankly offended that you would imply that I would just abandon you like that! Besides, I’m tied to you until further notice. I couldn’t leave you behind even if I wanted to—which, for the record, I don’t now and won’t ever.”

“Yes, well— figure something out. I am not entertaining this any longer. I apologize for the inconvenience, but you are of no use to me. Thank whoever’s in charge for thinking of me, and goodbye, Roman. It was nice meeting you.”

“…So, what do you not understand about the fact that I cannot physically leave? Because I thought that was pretty clear, but if you need me to, I can explain again.”

“I understood you perfectly fine,” Logan said, standing up and taking an unintentionally menacing step towards Roman. “I simply don’t care. I’d thank you kindly for leaving me alone. I don’t need your help.”

“Was that an invitation for me to list all the ways you do, in fact, need my help?”

“No, it really wasn’t, it was actually a very explicit invitation to leave me alone and get the fu—”

“So! First of all, you’re lonely.”

“That’s just wrong, plain and simple. I have Patton and I have Virgil, not to mention my family and—”

“Very true, but if you try to tell me they truly understand you, you’d be lying, no?”

Logan had nothing to say to that.

“Exactly. Secondly, your ambition and curiosity are the only things you’re living for. You have no proper sense of self and no confidence in who you are as a person.”

“I—”

“No, no, I’m not done yet. Thirdly, you still haven’t moved past the fact that your aspirations and curiosities have always been mocked and still don’t feel that you can speak your mind freely because you fear you’ll be belittled for your interests.”

“I think that’s more than enough, I get the idea—”

“And finally,” Roman said a bit louder, talking over Logan’s objections, “in your drive to prove the people from your past wrong, you’ve lost all trust in those closest to you. Not only are you lonely now, you still insist on keeping everyone at a distance so you will forever be lonely.”

Logan was silent.

“So, how did I do? Was I right?”

“Perhaps a few things you said were somewhat accurate, but that in no way means I need your help. Because I don’t.”

“Mm, my boss begs to differ, and so do I. Besides, you really don’t have a say in this. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” Roman didn’t seem very troubled with this information, sending Logan a sparkling grin followed quickly by a wink.

“Well then. Let’s just say you do end up staying around. What exactly do you plan on doing that any good therapist couldn’t?”

“Well, for starters, I’m an angel, Logan. My angelic nature is a healing force all on its own. Secondly, a therapist couldn’t provide you with love now, could they? They wouldn’t be able to help you feel less lonely by being your friend, huh?”

“I don’t need—”

“You don’t need friends? Everyone needs friends, Logan. It’s human nature, I’m sure you know that.”

Logan sighed, running a hand absently through his hair. “Let’s say I ignore you. Would you eventually leave me alone?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright then, let’s just pretend I do accept your existence in my life. How am I supposed to explain who you are?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. I can handle the explanations, that was all a part of my training.”

“How comforting. Now, what happens if I’m never deemed ‘fixed?’ Do you just have to live with me until I die? Does that mean you’ve failed?”

“Okay, so let’s get one thing straight—”

“I don’t think you can do that. I’m gay.”

“Oh, I know, it’s just a figure of speech, but anyway, that wasn’t even the point. What I was going to say is that you aren’t being ‘fixed.’ You don’t need to be fixed, you need love and support. So I’m not here to fix you, I’m here to help you, and I won’t fail in that, Logan.”

“That’s a sweet sentiment I suppose, but that doesn’t eliminate the possibility of failure by any means.”

“Well then, it seems we have an opportunity here, now don’t we?”

“Do I want to know what that entails?”

“Quite possibly not, but you also don’t have a choice. Either way though, you need to learn how to trust people, right? Here’s your first chance. Trust that I won’t fail you, because that’s all you can really do in this case.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hm, I don’t think that sounded much like you trusting me, somehow. Let’s try that again: I won’t fail you, Logan. Trust me.”

“I… will ignore the possibility that you might fail.”

Roman snorted. “That’s closer, at least. You’ll get there someday.”

“Well,” Logan said, clearing his throat. “Would you mind getting out of my lab while I work, at least? I’m afraid I won’t be able to concentrate with someone else in the room.”

“Even if that someone’s fabulously charming and winningly handsome?”

“I’m afraid so, and I’m so very sorry about that,” Logan said, not sounding very sorry at all.

“You don’t sound very sorry at all,” Roman pouted.

“Yes, well, I am and I’ve wasted enough time entertaining you. So if you don’t mind, I have work to do now.”

“Ooo, what are you doing toda—”

“No, nope, absolutely not, get out.” He herded Roman out the door, slamming it once he’d made it through. Leaning his head against it with a sigh, Logan made a futile attempt to collect his thoughts, knowing instinctively that no matter how hard he tried, he would be getting absolutely nothing of worth done today.

_________________________

For the next several weeks, Logan was constantly plagued by Roman’s continued existence.

The angel refused to leave him alone for more than fifteen minutes at a time, and Logan was certain he was going absolutely insane because of it. No matter how many locked doors he hid behind, Roman always managed to find a way through. Logan hypothesized that it was magic, but Roman vehemently denied that when asked.

“Me? Use magic? Why, of course not! It’s not allowed when I’m on Earth because I’m supposed to be ‘blending in,’ and I would never break a rule as important as that. I’m shocked and appalled that you’d accuse me of such a thing, my darling Logan.”

Logan didn’t believe that absolute bullshit for a second, but he could never prove anything to the contrary, even though he did spend nearly every waking moment with Roman. Even if he could never get Roman to stop talking. Even if he was overwhelmed with the constant onslaught of Roman Roman Roman—

At that point, Logan couldn’t remember what he had been trying to find out in the first place. As he spent more time around Roman’s constant chatter, he could feel himself physically losing brain cells; it was getting harder to think, harder to move, harder to calm his head, his heart, his breaths.

It was possible that he should have mentioned this to Roman, but Logan didn’t want to tell the angel any more than necessary, even though doing so would mean that he would leave him behind sooner. That wasn’t worth the vulnerability he would be showing, nothing was.

So he just had to… survive.

He could survive; he’d done so all his life, clearly. There was no reason at all for him to stop now.

Besides, he had a few hours of Roman-free time while he was at work, and that was enough to let him breathe properly. Though it was gradually becoming harder for him to concentrate long enough to find the correct train of thought to follow, his time spent at work as a neuroscientist was still far superior to any time spent around Roman.

At least, it had been before today. Because today, everything—everything—was going wrong.

First, it was his alarm being set to the wrong sound. Instead of waking him up with its usual serene tones that gradually increased in volume, it emitted a jarring series of beeps that physically hurt Logan when he heard them.

Then, it was his coffee being too cold, then too sweet, then being spilled over his counter. It hadn’t all been lost, but what was left in the thermos wasn’t enough to placate Logan as the right amount would have on any other day.

After the spilled coffee came the pout Roman gave him after he’d snapped at him for humming too loudly. After the pout came the imploring request to pretty please tell Roman what was wrong, after the request came another bout of waspish remarks, after the waspish remarks came another pout, and after the pout, Logan simply left.

Once he arrived at work, Logan was certain that his day was going to get better. It could only go up from the pit he’d fallen into, right?

Wrong. Logan’s day could—and would—get so much worse.

The first thing to go wrong at work was seeing his messy lab. He’d been tired when he’d left last night, leaving the clean up to his future self. This was proving to have been a terrible idea.

Cringing at the equipment strewn all over, Logan locked his bag away in a locker on the left wall and got to work cleaning.

That, at least, was calming.

What was decidedly not calming was having one of his coworkers burst through the door without so much as a knock. This was the second thing to go wrong after Logan had arrived at work, and the following conversation was the third.

“You aren’t busy, are you?”

“As a matter of fact, I—”

“Doesn’t matter. We need you to check out these scans right about… oh, now, but no pressure of course. I’ll be in room 312 whenever you’re done,” the man—whose name Logan couldn’t seem to remember for the life of him—interrupted with a tight smile. “Thanks,” he added as an afterthought, strolling out of the lab without even having the decency to close the door behind him.

The fourth thing to go wrong was the fact that Logan had to actually concentrate on doing something while there was still clutter all over the room, but he did manage to do so with only mild suffering.

Logan had just begun to grow hungry when the realization of the fifth thing to go wrong dawned on him. He’d forgotten to pack his lunch.

Fuck.

This wasn’t catastrophic, of course. He could always go somewhere to buy lunch, but it was while Logan was searching for his wallet that he remembered leaving it on the counter at home. While Logan would by no means starve without lunch, not having food to sustain him for the rest of the day would not bode well for anyone who needed to speak with him.

That was the sixth thing that went wrong.

The seventh thing to go wrong was Logan’s lightheadedness, a sudden reminder that he hadn’t had breakfast either, so consumed had he been with the spilled coffee and argument with Roman. This left him with two awful options. He could either wait until he got home to eat (which would have countless adverse effects on his physical health) or he could ask to borrow money from someone he worked with (which would have countless adverse effects on his mental health). There really was no winning for him.

But having to deal with the discomfort of asking for money seemed to Logan a lesser evil at that point than having to wait for several more hours before he’d be able to alleviate the gnawing pain in his stomach.

This was the eighth thing to go wrong, the ninth being the fact that the sandwich he’d been lent had been slathered with mayo and gone soggy because of it.

Logan’s day seemed to be looking up after lunch, though, as he had finally managed to finish cleaning up his lab by that point and was able to continue research into a different patient’s condition at a more leisurely pace than he’d had to think at that morning.

There was still so much that could go wrong, though, and it all did.

The tenth thing was a conversation with a coworker that stretched on for a small eternity, the eleventh a series of three brand new things he had to do at “his earliest convenience,” the twelfth a glass beaker that Logan had dropped shattering to pieces on the floor.

Logan left after he’d cleaned up that mess, not wanting to get to the thirteenth bad thing because although he was far from superstitious, the fact that he now knew angels existed was fucking with his mind in that regard.

Once he got home, he restarted the count of things that went wrong solely for his own sanity. Reaching a count of unfortunate incidents that was any higher than twenty things would make him want to scream, so when he saw Roman waiting for him on the couch as soon as he walked through the doorway, he considered that the first terrible thing to happen once he’d gotten home as opposed to the twenty-first terrible thing that had happened in total.

The second thing was the discovery that Roman had raided his refrigerator earlier that day and eaten the lunch he’d made for himself, the third that he found his house to be entirely void of Crofters jam. The fourth was the fact that peanut butter eaten alone made his mouth feel thick and dry, the fifth Roman’s proclamation that he’d told Logan so.

The sixth thing to go wrong once Logan got home was the fact that Roman would simply not stop singing, even after he’d mentioned that he was going to take a nap because it had been a long day so could he please be quiet for just thirty minutes? That was all he wanted, thirty blissful minutes of peace and quiet.

He didn’t even get five.

That was alright though, he decided, because he could read and block out any noise that happened to drift his way, obnoxious singing included.

The seventh tragedy occurred when Logan finished his book and had to return once again to reality and the angel that came with it. It was getting dark, and Logan should have gone to the kitchen to get food at that point. He hadn’t eaten much at all today, but going to the kitchen also meant having to deal with Roman and his loud voice and prying questions and— nope. Logan didn’t have enough mental energy left to handle that.

So instead, he decided to do what he always did when his problems proved to be too much for him. He ran away from them.

Specifically, he ran away to a field of wildflowers in the middle of nowhere with the most perfect view of the stars he’d ever seen.

While that was still running away, Logan tended to ignore that in favor of admiring the night sky.

Now, all he had to do was get out of the house without running into Roman. He would want to know where Logan was going and then he’d have to explain and then Roman would want to come with him and that could only end with Logan becoming even more frustrated with the world, so he opted to leave through his window.

He’d never tried to do that before, so he was pleasantly surprised when he made it out with only a slight stumble. Without the walls of his house closing in on him, Logan noted that he felt more at ease than he had all day. The night air also helped to calm him, and his entire demeanor had relaxed by the time he reached his field of wildflowers.

Letting out a sigh, Logan felt any remaining tension melt away as he sat down beneath the leaves of a willow tree. He leaned his head back against its trunk and allowed himself to simply trace the constellations above him with his eyes.

When he’d been far younger, more naive, and less concerned with making enough money to live comfortably, Logan had seriously considered becoming an astronomer. He’d also toyed with the thought of being an astrophysicist, but the idea of having to work with concepts that weren’t concrete or truly proven made him feel slightly panicked and had turned him off from that completely. Still though, he’d always found anything to do with planets, galaxies, stars, and anything in between to be utterly fascinating. He could have spent hours in the library reading about astronomers and their discoveries from centuries past, and while Logan wouldn’t ever be one to work solely in theoreticals, learning about those theories was almost more fascinating than the facts themselves. No matter what else was going on in his life at the time, he had always been able to turn to the stars in some form or another as a calming presence. They were the one constant that hadn’t managed to fade from his life, and Logan was incredibly grateful for it. He didn’t even want to think about a life lived without the stars for company.

That’s why this field of wildflowers meant so much to him; it wasn’t the place itself as much as it was what it allowed him to see. His surroundings were undoubtedly beautiful, but they paled in comparison to the sky above. And, sitting beneath the willow tree and looking up, up, up, Logan was perfectly content.

He would have stayed that way too were it not for the arrival of one The Blessed Roman, guardian angel.

“Logan? What are you doing all the way out here?”

Sighing, Logan avoided the question. “Did you follow me?”

“No! Well, kind of. That depends on what you mean by following. No, I didn’t see you leave and then decide to leave then as well. But yes, I did notice that you were being awfully quiet and decide to check on you before discovering that you were gone before using the bond between us to guide me here.”

“Wonderful, so I can never escape you.”

“No, you really can’t, I’m afraid.” Roman walked the rest of the way to the trunk of the willow tree, sitting down beside Logan and pressing his back up against it as well. “Now, why are you here?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to talk to you. In fact, I would much prefer to be left alone.”

“Ah, you’re shutting down again. You don’t want to be vulnerable, so you’re pushing me away when I try to get you to open up. You definitely shouldn’t do that, especially considering that no matter how vulnerable you are, I am physically not able to hurt you in any way, shape, or form. I promise you can trust me.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Oh, that’s fine too! You can talk about anything, but please, Logan, just talk to me.”

“I— why?”

Roman shrugged. “Talking helps, sometimes. Just to have someone who’ll listen to you, you know?”

“I’ll try it, I suppose. But if I ask you to leave me alone again, please do so.”

“Of course, darling.”

“Alright. So.” Logan cleared his throat, not knowing how to continue. He looked up at the stars again, and his eyes lit up with the sudden brilliance of an idea. “Look at the sky, and see that star over there? The really bright one?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Its name is Rasalhague, which is derived from the Arabic phrase meaning ‘the head of the serpent collector.’ And since it’s the brightest star in the constellation Ophiuchus—a constellation depicting a man often believed to be the Greek god of medicine, Asclepius, with a serpent in his hands—the name is rather fitting. And the bright star below it? That’s Sabik. Its name also comes from Arabic, meaning ‘the preceding one,’ though this time there’s no fitting explanation as to why. If you connect those two stars with twenty-five others, the brightest ones being there, there, there, here, there, and there—” Logan pointed at a new star in the constellation with each word he spoke, “—then you have the full Ophiuchus constellation. And if you look just to the left of Sabik, you can see Serpens Cauda, which is the tail of the serpent Asclepius is holding. Now, below and slightly to the right of Rasalhague is Serpens Caput, the other half of the full Serpens constellation. If you translate their names from Latin, they mean exactly what they are supposed to depict: ‘snake tail’ and ‘snake head,’ respectively.”

“Oh! I remember those! If I’m not mistaken, I helped to create them.”

At that, Logan’s gaze snapped back down to Earth. “You did what?” he asked, voice breathy with awe.

“I’m an angel, Logan, of course I helped with the creation of the universe! I made quite a few stars, actually. I think you humans call the constellations they make up Corona Borealis and Corona Australis? The northern and southern crowns? There are a few others that don’t remember the names of, but if you look over there—” at this, Roman took Logan’s hand in his and moved it in a circle around a spot in the sky a little bit to the left of Ophiuchus and Serpens, “—that’s where most of my stars are.”

Breathless, Logan went quiet for a few moments, trying to remember which constellation those stars made up, if any. Then, without warning, he gasped. “Oh! Oh, your stars are near Microscopium and Telescopium, two of the six constellations Lacaille discovered and named after scientific instruments and navigational tools, all first documented in 1756. Lacaille was a French astronomer who also christened a fair amount of other modern constellations the same year, but my favorites are those six: Microscopium and Telescopium, of course, and Fornax, which is the chemist’s distillation furnace, Octans, the octant, Pyxis, the compass, and Circinus, the dividing compasses. You can’t see all of them right now since they’re in different places throughout the sky and some of them aren’t as bright nor as recognizable as, say, Ursa Major and Minor or Orion’s Belt, so even then they would be more difficult to see, but—” Logan stopped, seeming to catch himself. “Sorry. You probably didn’t want to hear about all that.”

“No!” The intensity in Roman’s voice caused Logan to turn towards him in confusion, a slight frown on his face. “I mean, of course I want to continue to hear you talk about constellations, so no, please don’t stop talking, please never assume I won’t want to hear what you have to say. It’s interesting, and I like hearing the joy in your voice.”

“Ah,” Logan said, his face coloring lightly. He cleared his throat again before continuing in a softer voice, “Thank you.”

“Of course, Logan. When you talk about stars or space or science or honestly, anything that makes you smile, it’s—no, you—are beautiful.”

“I’m just… lecturing, really, and there’s nothing special about that.” Logan rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Besides, you were the one who created the stars I was telling you about. Compared to that, I didn’t do anything at all.”

“On the contrary, I think your knowledge is far more than a simple ‘anything.’ When I formed those stars out of light and space dust, I never could have imagined them inspiring a smile—or anything else, for that matter—so gorgeous.”

Logan wanted to ask how Roman could have possibly believed that stars, some of the most beautiful creations in existence, wouldn’t result in something just as pretty.

Logan also wanted to completely ignore the fact that Roman thought the resulting pretty thing was his smile, fearing how flustered he’d become if Roman so much as alluded to that statement again. Eventually though, he settled on a response that didn’t encapsulate even half as much as he was feeling. “Thank you for creating them,” he said.

“If they’ve brought you even a fraction of the amount of happiness as they seem to have, it all will have been worth it.”

Logan felt himself blushing again, but he chose to pretend that his face was not a brilliant shade of red. “Yes, well—” he trailed off, finding himself unable to think of the right words to say.

Roman laughed, lightly setting his hand over Logan’s to pat it in a show of fond affection. “You’re adorable.” He grinned once more, shifting his grip so he was holding Logan’s hand properly before moving on to an entirely new subject. “Anyhow, are you feeling any better?”

“Actually? I think I am,” Logan said, making a valiant attempt to convince himself that his improved mood had nothing to do with the fact that Roman was so casually holding his hand.

“Soo… are you saying that I was right?”

“Oh, absolutely not. I would never.” Roman laughed again, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound. “But thank you.”

“Of course, Logan. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know it is, but… it’s nice to have someone pretend to care anyway.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not. I promise you, Logan, I will never pretend with you.”

“Oh.” There was an odd sort of warmth in Logan’s chest, and he wanted to hold onto the memory of it for the rest of his life. As he drowned in that wonderful feeling, he felt the rest of his day fade into nothing, completely insignificant in this current moment of peace. “Thank you,” he repeated.

“You’re welcome,” Roman replied, but it sounded like he meant something else too, something hidden just beneath his spoken words that Logan couldn’t quite pick up on.

With a soft sigh, Logan leaned closer and rested his head on Roman’s shoulder. “You know,” he began, “I should apologize for the way I treated you earlier today. It was uncalled for, and you didn’t deserve it. I took out my feelings on you when you didn’t really do anything but sing too loudly—which, to be fair, can be incredibly annoying, but I digress—so I’m sorry.”

“Um,” Roman said in a way that was very nearly a squeak as he looked down at Logan. “Thanks.” He swallowed, and his voice returned to normal when he spoke again. “Now that you mention it though, I should probably do less of that when you’re around. I didn’t realize it bothered you as much as it did, so I too apologize.”

“Thank you,” Logan said, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “And I’ll do my best to remind you in a less snappish way whenever it gets on my nerves.”

“That would be nice, yes,” Roman agreed, returning Logan’s smile with a soft one of his own. “Now, I don’t want to ruin the moment, but I am truly glad I got to talk to you tonight. I know it may not seem like a lot, but it’s a better start than I would have ever hoped for you. Forgive me if this sounds odd, but I’m incredibly proud of you for that.”

“You’re very pushy, it was going to happen eventually.” Logan let out a small laugh at Roman’s answering noise of offense before clarifying, “And it’s nice to talk to you. I like having someone who’ll listen to me.”

“More people should listen to you. You’re fascinating, Logan.”

Logan felt his face heat up and his heart flutter yet again. “I— hngk.” he turned to bury his face in Roman’s shoulder. “You aren’t so bad yourself, I suppose,” he replied eventually, once his face had cooled down just a bit and his heart had slowed to a slightly more normal pace.

Roman hummed his agreement, placing a light kiss on the top of Logan’s head—which, for the record, completely nullified any progress Logan’s face and heart had made in calming themselves—before saying, “It’s getting rather late, and you’ve had a long day. We should go home.”

“Hm, we should,” Logan agreed, making no effort to move.

Roman sighed. “If you want, I could carry you.”

“What?!” Unlike Roman’s almost-squeak, Logan’s was far more obvious. “No, no, that’s alright, there’s no need for you to carry me. It’s fine, it’s all fine,” he said, standing suddenly and brushing nonexistent dirt off his clothes.

“Let us be off then!” Roman declared, kindly ignoring Logan’s flustered state and offering out his arm with a flourish.

Logan placed his hand in the crook of it, a smile that didn’t read at all as love-struck back on his face. “What a perfect gentleman.”

_________________________

After their conversation beneath the willow tree, Logan’s days passed much more peacefully. Roman wasn’t as loud and overbearing, and Logan found that talking to him about anything and everything was just as easy as it had been that night. Their days were full of laughter and happiness, and Logan finally grew comfortable with the idea of living with a—with his—guardian angel.

Logan had also grown painfully aware of the lulls in conversation whenever Roman complimented him and he found himself at a complete loss for words or when he shot Roman an unexpected smile and the angel’s face turned a shade of red almost as bright as the sash he’d had on the day Logan had met him. He was certain it couldn’t have meant much, but those lulls still blinked out at him like a neon sign on a deserted street.

…Alright, so it was possible that he wasn’t so naïve as to think that the constant state of being flustered and the constant blushing and the constant heated eye contact and everything else that had been happening meant nothing. And it was possible that he was aware that this likely meant he harbored feelings for Roman and Roman for him, but that in no way meant that he had to acknowledge these feelings.

He very much did not want to waste a month of perfectly good friendship, so he would also very much pretend these feelings did not exist.

At least, this is what he would have done had he not walked into his room one day while Roman was stretching his wings.

It was only then that Logan had realized that he hadn’t seen Roman’s wings at all since the first day they’d met and in all honesty, had nearly forgotten about him. There were times when Roman seemed so human that Logan couldn’t believe that was not the case. When he saw Roman’s wings though, he was reminded sharply of the fact that Roman was an angel, through and through.

Roman was an angel, and he was falling.

Logan assumed that this was why Roman’s wings were going black at the tips, but he still figured clarifying would be prudent. “Roman?” he asked, knocking lightly on the door frame to alert the angel to his presence.

“Logan!” Roman exclaimed, spinning around and hiding his wings behind him as best he could in one rapid movement. “What— what are you doing here, my darling?”

Giving a sigh that was altogether too fond, Logan said, “This is my room, Roman. I’m in here because I forgot my glasses on the nightstand.”

“Oh,” Roman nodded, still trying to make his wings disappear behind his body. “Yeah, that makes sense. Uh, go ahead and, um. Get your glasses so you can see. Not! That there’s anything interesting to see here.” Roman flashed him a sparkling grin, hiding the layer of panic beneath it.

“Telling me that there isn’t ‘anything interesting to see here’ is only going to convince me of the opposite. Besides, I already saw your wings. Why are they turning black?”

“That? Oh, that’s nothing!”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“…By ‘nothing,’ I of course mean nothing of importance! I tried dyeing my feathers and was checking to see how they looked. It’s not good, I know,” Roman said with a laugh, that impressively enough, barely sounded forced.

“Are you falling?” Logan asked, ignoring Roman’s explanation entirely.

“Am I— am I falling?” Roman scoffed. “Why on Earth would I be falling? There’s no reason for me to fall, is there?”

“Well, I don’t think I should know. I’m not the one who knows the rules and hierarchy of the angels. So, you tell me. What reason would there be for you—or angels in general, I suppose—to fall?”

“Ah. Angels fall when they do… something bad. You know. Bad things. Evil things.”

Logan raised an eyebrow again. “Such as?”

“Oooh, you know. Pride, sometimes. Or jealousy, sloth, lust, greed, gluttony, wrath, too much disrespect or insubordination, not doing their job, uh, consorting with the enemy, and other such wickedness. Just. General bad things, as I said.”

“So, have you been prideful?”

“Not any more than what’s healthy.”

“Jealous? Lazy? Lustful? Greedy, gluttonous, wrathful?”

“Nope.”

“And I know you haven’t been disrespectful and that you have been doing your job.”

“Mhm. See, Logan? No reason at all for me to fall.”

“What would you define ‘the enemy’ as?”

“What?”

“ ‘The enemy,’ ” Logan repeated. “As in, ‘consorting with the enemy.’ ”

“Oh! Some define it as any non-angelic entity, but most would agree that ‘the enemy’ is more along the lines of a beast from Hell or another demon of sorts. And I clearly haven’t been consorting with any demons, so—”

“Define ‘consorting’ for me in this context, will you?”

“Well, normally it would mean to closely associate yourself with someone, but, seeing as I am a guardian angel, that is sort of my job. I’m not consorting with you if that’s what you’re worried about. The only way I’d be able to properly consort with you would be if I developed some sort of bond with you outside of a normal guardian angel-mortal relationship. Which! I haven’t! I’m just helping you work through your issues, and if I just so happen to become closer to you while doing so, no one could fault me for that!”

“Roman, I hate to break it to you, but that sounds exactly like consorting with the enemy. If you’ll excuse me for pointing this out, I feel we have a relationship that is just a little bit different than a strictly professional one.”

“Okay, so maybe you’re right. But almost all good guardian angels become friends with their humans! I’m hardly the first one, and none of them have fallen.”

“Mm, I suppose that is true. Can you think of any other reason that you could be falling?”

“Well… there is this one thing? That might possibly be happening? But I sincerely doubt it is,” Roman said through blithe laughter.

“Do you admit that you are falling, then?”

“I— uh, no…?”

“That convinced me of precisely nothing, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Roman’s demeanor brightened immediately upon saying this, as though pretending that everything was fine would convince Logan that it was.

It didn’t work, clearly, as Logan asked not a moment later, “Now, what’s that thing that might possibly be happening?”

“That? Oh, nothing! Again, nothing at all of importance. I assure you I’m fine, Logan. I can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubt that you could. In theory, at least.” Logan couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face at Roman’s offended gasps, but he managed to continue through barely repressed laughter. “But right now, you are very much not taking care of yourself for whatever reason. Care to inform me what that’s about?”

“I mean, no. Is that an option?”

Logan sighed in fond exasperation. “I’m afraid not.”

“Well. It was worth a shot.”

“No, it really wasn’t.”

“You’re no fun. But! Nice talk, it was great to see you, Lo!”

“…What are you doing.”

“Uh, I’m going to finish getting ready for the day?”

“And are you just assuming that I forgot about the whole ’you’re falling’ thing?”

“…Yes.”

“That would be incorrect, then. Please Roman, just let me know what’s going on. It’s clear you’re hiding something, so what is it?”

Roman winced at the accusation, sitting down on the bed. “Is there anything I could say to convince you to stop prying?”

“No, nothing at all,” Logan replied, sitting down next to him.

“Then… it would be best to just say it, right? Not draw it out for too long?”

“Yes, that is what most people would prefer to do.”

“I fell in love with you, Logan.”

“You did.”

“I did.”

Logan wasn’t sure why he felt so shocked, in all honesty. He’d known that this was very likely to be true. He’d known that Roman was falling from the second he’d walked in the room, and he’d had his suspicions as to why he was a moment later. He was at a loss, then, as to why he would possibly be feeling tears on his cheeks.

“Are you… crying? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, I— no. You’re fine.” Logan turned away to wipe the wetness from his cheeks before looking back up at Roman. “I believe it’s just that you—essentially, you’re falling because of me, aren’t you?”

“Well, not exactly. This is still entirely my own doing, after all.”

“But it is because you fell in love with me that you’re falling, correct?”

“I mean kind of, but I promise you that this isn’t your fault, Logan.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked, wiping away the final traces of his sadness from beneath his eyes. “If I had—”

“What, been less easy to love? You aren’t easy to love, Logan, and that’s one of the infinite reasons I do love you. I had to do so much to be granted even a glimpse of who you are, and after I did… well, I can hardly fault you for being yourself.” Roman gave him a bittersweet smile. “It wasn’t any one thing that caused me to fall in love with you, it was everything that you are and were. I love you—not something that you said or did or anything else—and there’s nothing you could have done to change that. My fall isn’t your fault, Logan. I promise.”

Logan dutifully ignored the blush that began to cover his face. “Is there any way to stop an angel from falling?”

“I’m not sure. But frankly, Logan, I don’t mind falling one bit if it’s for you.”

“That’s incredibly sweet and all, but I am trying to figure out a way to save your soul here, so I’d appreciate any information you may have on hand.”

“Yes, right. I, uh, I’m sorry to say that there isn’t a way to save a fallen angel, darling. You can’t raise angels, so while I do appreciate the fact that you care for me, there’s nothing you can do.”

“You haven’t fallen though, have you?”

“No, the darkening wings just indicate that I’m going to, and I’m going to soon.”

“You haven’t fallen yet,” Logan repeated, giving Roman a pointed look.

“…Yes. That’s what I just said.”

Logan shook his head, deciding to fully explain what he was thinking himself. “So if you stop doing whatever is causing you to fall, halt the progression of black over the rest of your wings… you could still be saved. You are still an angel, so you can be saved. All you have to do is—”

“No. Absolutely not. Logan, I made you a promise, and I won’t break it. I won’t—”

“—leave me behind.”

“—leave you behind.”

“You have to. I want you to be able to remain an angel, to not fall, to be happy because I—”

“I can’t. I don’t care what happens to me as long as it means I still get to see you and spend time with you and as long as you’re happy because I—”

“—love you,” they finished in unison.

“And that’s why you have to leave.”

“And that’s why I can’t leave.”

“I love you,” they said again, perfectly in sync, the words meaning everything and not nearly enough all at once.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Logan whispered.

“So then you won’t,” Roman replied, voice just as quiet.

“But I— I know there’s no other choice.”

“There’s always another choice.”

“Not this time. No matter what you do, I lose you.”

“Logan—”

“You have to leave. You have to go back to— to heaven or whatever sort of paradise it is that you came from. At least this way, I’ll get to say goodbye.”

“Logan—”

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me there’s another way, and I’ll stop.” It was a question, a challenge, but most of all, it was a plea.

“I—” Roman took a quivering breath. “You’re right. You’re always right,” he said with a slightly watery laugh. “There’s no other way. You’re right.”

There was a tragic sort of irony in that. The one time he wished more than anything that he was wrong, Logan knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t. “I’m sorry,” he said as he leaned forward, resting his head against Roman’s chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

Logan looked up and placed a delicate kiss on Roman’s cheek. “Do you— are you alright with leaving now?”

“Now?”

“I know it’s sudden, but I— I don’t want to draw this out any longer than necessary, not while I know that you’ll be leaving soon enough anyway.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.”

Both Logan and Roman went silent for a moment, neither moving, neither wanting the world to continue hurtling towards the end of their time together. Finally though, Roman spoke.

“How about one more day?”

“One more day?”

“Mhm. Just… spend one more day together, and then I leave tonight. So we can part with a few more beautiful memories of each other to hold on to.”

“That sounds—” Logan had to pause, clearing his throat to banish the emotion from his voice. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you have a plan?”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Logan laughed, happy to ignore the ticking countdown in the back of his head until later. “I figured I’d ask, but somehow, I didn’t think you would.”

“You know me too well, love.” Roman lightly kissed the top of Logan’s head before continuing, “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready. You’re good just wandering around town for a while, right?”

“With you?” Logan smiled. “How could I not be?”

_________________________

Time has a funny way of passing sometimes. When you’re looking forward to something, it seems to crawl. When you’re doing something you enjoy, it can become negligible and easily forgotten. When you have nothing to gauge it by, Mondays become Thursdays and Thursdays become Sundays.

And of course, when you’re dreading something, the time before it passes in a blur.

Roman and Logan’s day passed in a blur.

They’d gone to all three bookshops within walking distance of Logan’s house and the ice cream shop situated beside the final one. There was an odd little museum near the edge of town, and they’d dropped by there too. They had brunch at a charming cafe and made up stories about the people that walked past the window, perused the aisles of several stores just so Roman could try on increasingly eccentric outfits for Logan’s amusement and bought nothing. At the dog park just off of Main Street, they’d stopped to laugh with each other at the antics of the puppies that rushed to and fro before strolling along the road towards a park of their own, lined with the most beautiful flowering trees. They stopped in bakeries and candy stores, coffee shops and out-of-the-way boutiques filled to the brim with various antiques and trinkets. Logan and Roman did all that and still would have sworn they couldn’t have spent any more than four hours together.

It was, of course, closer to eight and a half hours since they’d walked into the first bookshop to the moment the sun had almost fully set and their day was over.

Time can do that to you sometimes.

Similarly to the way time had felt earlier in the day, time after the sun had set passed in flashes, quick as lightning and just as bright. The walk to their willow tree should have taken at least fifteen minutes, but it felt as short as one shallow breath.

When they did reach the willow tree, they stood there for what felt like an eternity, lost in each other’s eyes before Roman broke the silence. “Dance with me,” he said.

And though Logan had never once danced in his life, he replied, “Of course.”

Beneath the moonlight that filtered through the willow tree’s branches, Roman twirled Logan to the beat of the silence around them. Neither pointed out the lack of music, and neither mentioned that Roman had only asked to dance to put off the inevitable.

It was only when their feet grew too tired to keep moving that they stopped and stood still. Logan looked up at Roman and the stars above him, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky as to find someone like his angel, even if it was only for a fraction of his life. Roman looked down at Logan and the silver light that gleamed in his dark eyes, pondering what he had done to deserve having so little time with the love of his life before everything was ripped away.

The whole world paused as they held each other, Logan’s arms twined around Roman’s neck and Roman’s wrapped around Logan’s waist. The air felt fragile, like everything—not just their hearts—would shatter into trillions of pieces once they spoke again.

Still, time continued stubbornly forward on its path towards the end of Roman’s life on Earth—his life with Logan—so the angel spoke despite the fact that he could practically hear how the world shattered around them.

“Logan,” he started, moving his hands from Logan’s waist to brush a lock of hair behind his ear and brush the beginnings of a tear from beneath his left eye. “Logan, there are no words I can say that will truly encapsulate all that I feel for you. There is nothing in this world that could explain all that you mean to me, and there is no way for me to express the euphoria in my heart at having gotten to know and love you. Everything you are and every bit that you’ve grown causes me to fall more in love with you as the seconds tick past, and every moment I find I love you more sets a new precedent for the amount of love I’m able to give. Meeting you is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and no matter what happens, I will never, ever forget you. I love you, Logan, more than all the stars in the sky.”

“Roman,” Logan began, wracking his brain for a way for him to say everything he wanted to. “Did you know that if you were trapped in a black hole and you peeked out, you’d see everything that had ever happened and will ever happen in that tiny patch of sky?” he asked, settling on what he knew how to do best: teach.

“This is because black holes are so dense that they distort time itself. The universe slows down and speeds up on a whim, and the passage of time means nothing at all. You could enter a black hole today, and if by some miracle you managed to escape, you’d emerge thousands of years into the future though to you, it would have felt to be mere minutes. This ‘time dilation,’ as it were, would allow you to look ahead of you and see everything that had fallen into the black hole before you and if you managed to turn around, you’d see everything that would fall in after. So, if by some miracle you had enough presence of mind to observe the world around you as you neared the event horizon, you would be able to see the entirety of what had happened in your small corner of the universe when you did. Everything would be moving so much faster than light itself that you’d be able to watch the whole evolution of the universe happen—from the Big Bang to the end of life as we know it—all at once, over and over again.

“But you know, I think if it were me in that black hole, looking out at the creation and destruction of the universe, the rise and fall, again and again, all I’d be able to think about was being here with you in this moment. I don’t care one bit about seeing the rest of the universe when I have something more precious to me than all the stars in the sky—when I have you.”

Roman’s jaw had dropped at some point while Logan had been speaking, awed by the love and eloquence in his words. “Beautiful,” he whispered as he brushed a hand over Logan’s cheek, unable to say anything else and unwilling to shatter the silence any further.

Then a breeze blew through their hair, and Logan and Roman were reminded abruptly that the rest of the world existed.

“You have to leave,” Logan said, and it was at once an order and a lament. He took one step back, and it was the most painful thing he’d ever done.

“I do,” Roman agreed, and it was at once an acknowledgment and a form of mourning. He unfurled his wings, and it hurt more than anything else he’d done in his immortal life. They opened fully, glowing a brilliant white against the darkness as he flapped them once, lifting off the ground. He flapped them a second time, and he was well into the air, barely close enough to reach out a hand and brush it against Logan’s face. “Goodbye, my darling. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Roman’s hand began to pull away, and before he knew what he was doing, Logan’s own hand shot out and grasped his wrist as he said with sudden intensity, “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“May I kiss you? Just once, just to remember you by.”

“I wish I could give you thousands of kisses, Logan. Of course you may have this one.”

With that, Roman floated down slightly, feet still a few inches off the ground as though he knew that if he landed he’d never leave. Placing a gentle hand on Logan’s cheek, he leaned towards him, preparing for a soft, sweet kiss.

Logan seemed to have other plans though, for he laid his hands on Roman’s face and dragged him closer, standing on his tiptoes to reach Roman’s lips and meet them in a kiss so passionate the flame burning between them could have set the whole world aflame.

Logan didn’t pull back for a long while, refusing to come up for air because he knew—he knew—that when he did, it would mean Roman’s goodbye would be permanent. But he was human and had to breathe eventually, so pull back he did. Even then, though, he still wouldn’t remove his hands from Roman’s face.

“I love you,” Logan said once more, resting his forehead against Roman’s.

“I love you too. Goodb—”

“Don’t say goodbye. Please. I don’t want to think about the fact that I— I won’t— I won’t ever be able to see you again. Just say I love you. Those can be—” Logan swallowed hard, but he continued holding Roman’s face in his hands as though it were a lifeline. “Those can be your last words to me. Better than goodbye, I think.”

“Okay,” Roman whispered, fluttering his wings gently as he gradually lifted himself farther and farther away from Logan. “I love you, Logan. I always will.” Roman didn’t wait for a response, wiping the tears glistening in his eyes away as he fluttered into the sky and vanished in a bright flash of light.

He was gone.

Logan took a breath, willing it to stay calm. It hitched anyway, and his voice came out similarly unsteady as he said to empty air, “I love you too, Roman. Always. Always, and more than all the stars in the sky.” If he really listened, Logan could almost imagine he heard those final words echoing back at him, falling from the sky the same way Roman almost had.

_________________________

Roman was falling.

He was falling, and his wings hadn’t turned black. He was falling, and he wasn’t screaming in pain. He was falling, and he was smiling.

He was falling, and Logan was staring at the sky in disbelief as he did.

Logan was a neuroscientist. He knew that a fight or flight response was triggered when the human brain was overwhelmed and stressed. He knew exactly how it dealt with information and that if need be, it would formulate more believable scenarios when the current one couldn’t be processed. He knew that when it came to sleep deprivation, intense hallucinations would only start after a full seventy-two hours of no sleep.

Logan was not overwhelmed. Logan’s mind had always processed things in the way it should have, and he was not prone to coming up with scenarios that had never happened. While it wasn’t as much sleep as would have been ideal—seeing as he had been consistently sleep deprived for the past week—Logan had still slept for a full seven and a half hours last night.

And that’s why, for the life of him, he could not figure out why Roman appeared to be falling from the sky.

Roman wasn’t supposed to be falling from the sky. Roman was supposed to be in heaven or whatever sort of paradise it was that he lived in because Logan’s heartbreak hadn’t been for nothing, because Roman leaving had meant something, because their dual sacrifice had ensured that he would be safe.

So why the fuck was he falling now?

And where were his wings? If he were falling, shouldn’t they be as dark and black as night?

Something was wrong. Logan didn’t know what, but something was wrong. He had to get to Roman.

Logan wasn’t normally one for running, but he did make sure to keep himself in shape. That, combined with the adrenaline coursing through his veins, caused him to arrive at the field of wildflowers in record time. As long as Logan’s sense of direction was sound, he was sure that Roman had, for whatever reason, appeared to be falling straight for their willow tree.

Panting, Logan slowed down as he scoured the ground for the place Roman had fallen.

“I’m up here, love.”

Logan looked up. “You’re on top of a willow tree.”

“Astute,” Roman agreed.

“Why are you on top of a willow tree?” Logan asked, refusing to ask the question he wanted the answer to most of all.

Roman shrugged. “It’s just where I fell. I didn’t have any control over that.”

“Right,” Logan said, only slightly distracted by the fact that Roman was currently leaping from branch to branch in an attempt to reach the ground. “So then,” he began, figuring that putting this off any longer didn’t make the least bit of sense, “why did you fall? And doesn’t falling usually entail becoming… you know.”

“A demon? Yeah, it normally does. But I’m a special case,” Roman grinned as he made one final jump and landed on solid ground.

“Yes, I’d say you very much are.” Ignoring Roman’s spluttering response as he continued to make his way towards the angel, Logan asked, “But in this particular scenario, how so?”

With an annoyed huff—presumably still directed at Logan’s previous comment—Roman replied, “I didn’t technically fall, not in the way you’d think of it, since I did nothing wrong. So I’m not a demon, but I’m also not an angel anymore.”

“So what are you, then?”

“Human.”

“Wh— How?”

“Easy,” Roman said, tucking a lock of Logan’s hair behind his ear the moment he drew near enough for Roman to do so. “You know how I fell in love with you? And you fell in love with me?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You think I could forget? It’s not as though that’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past several weeks.”

“Yes, well, my point is that angels are creatures of love, of course, so once my boss figured out why I came back, She decided that tearing me away from the love of my life went entirely against everything angels stood for.”

“And that… caused you to fall?”

“Not exactly. That caused Her to give me a choice: stay an immortal angel until the end of time, helping people as I always had or fall to Earth and become a human so I could still be with you.”

“And you chose to come back. You chose to be human. You chose—”

“You.”

“Me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else, my darling.”

“Roman—” Logan stopped, suddenly finding himself unable to speak.

“Yes, love?”

Still lacking the words he needed, Logan instead took another step forward at the same time Roman did, and their lips met in the space between them for their second-ever kiss.

“I love you,” Roman said, voicing what Logan could have only hoped to.

For once, Logan was more action than words as he kissed Roman again. It was a promise—a promise to them both that their kisses would be just as numerous as the very stars Roman had helped to create, their love just as beautiful.

“More than all the stars in the sky,” Logan replied finally, lips still a hairsbreadth from Roman’s, voice barely a whisper.

“More than all the stars in the sky.”

_________________________

find other stuff i’ve written under #writings from the stars

[sign-from-god-complex]

Idealistic

Summary: Even after months of friendship, Logan didn’t know Remy’s major. There was, in fact, quite a lot he didn’t know about Remy, but Logan found he was more than willing to learn.

Pairing: Sleeplogical / Losleep

A/N: This fic is based on the lovely @sleepless-in-starbucks​' space!Remy idea!!! it’s probably also worth noting that Logan’s last name here is McKenzie, which is why that’s what Remy is calling him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There are certain things certain groups of people will always find important.

For example, when you meet a child, they will often tell you their age down to the month—a fact not many adults will care all that much about sharing. Fisherman will talk about fish and authors will talk about books; each group has its own unique priorities.

One of the things that university students find to be particularly important is your major.

Your major can tell people a lot about you—give hints as to whether you're practical or creative, whether you dream big or are more realistic and, often, what you are truly passionate about.

Logan's own major—psychology—told others that he was fairly grounded, ambitious and that his misunderstanding of other human beings and how they work had culminated in a lifelong fascination in figuring it out. Had Logan been looking into practising psychology rather than simply researching it, that would have said other things, but Logan had made it very clear where his interests lay.

Logan's roommate, Roman's, major declared him an overdramatic idiot with his hopes set higher than it was usually possible to achieve; Patton's major declared him sweet, caring and hardworking; Virgil's major declared him subtly intelligent and willing to stay up to unreasonable hours to get things done. Truly, there was so much you could learn from knowing the majors of the people you socialise with.

Which is why it irritated Logan so much that he still didn't know Remy's.

Remy was an enigma. From the moment they sauntered their way into Logan's regular coffee shop, only displaying the bits of themself they wanted people to see, Logan had been enamoured by the idea of what lay underneath the surface.

Every so often he would get a glimpse of something more than the flirty persona Remy put on. They would laugh—genuinely laugh, ducking their head, their cheeks flushed—or they would sigh—soft and quiet and sadder than Logan ever wanted them to feel—and moment by moment Logan fell just a little bit further for them.

He didn't mean to, but he had been reliably informed that no one ever did.

Logan exhaled into the cold air, watching his breath mist in front of him. The sound of music from the house behind him was muffled as he leant against the balcony railing, trying to catch a moment alone.

Roman had dragged him to this party, citing that he needed to get out more and stop being such a buzzkill. Logan personally thought that there was a large difference between finding studying important and being a buzzkill but he wasn't going to waste his breath attempting to explain that to Roman, who rarely listened to him anyway.

"You doing alright out here, McKenzie?"

Logan caught the sound of Remy's voice and he spun around, watching them close the sliding glass door behind them. There was a grin at Logan's reaction but it wasn't unkind, just teasing and playful.

Logan, hoping the dim lighting outside would hide his blush, turned back to look over the railing. "I am fine, Remy, thank you."

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan saw Remy approach the edge of the balcony to stand beside him, lifting their sunglasses to perch on the top of their head. Something in Logan warmed at the fact that Remy felt comfortable enough around him to remove their armour—and he knew without a doubt that's what those sunglasses represented.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Logan whispered, gazing up at the sky and failing to notice the way Remy tensed beside him at the question.

"The stars? I mean, they're just balls of gas." Remy's voice was stiff and uncomfortable as they fiddled with the sleeve of their leather jacket. "What’s there to be so excited about?"

Logan startled, turning to look at Remy incredulously. "There is so much more to them than that, Remy. Barring the fact that the stars are one of the most visually pleasing things we, as human beings, will ever get a chance to see, they represent so much more than just balls of gas. They represent the idea of exploration, of infinity, of a sense of longing for that which is outside our reach.”

He gestured vaguely upwards, expecting to go on, but was interrupted by a single word from Remy.

“Astronomy.”

It was blurted, hurried and almost afraid, and Remy appeared as if they already regretted it.

Logan furrowed his brow. “What?”

“You… wanted to know my major, that day in the cafe when we met.” Remy spoke slowly, seemingly almost rolling their words around their mouth before releasing them.

Logan nodded. He hadn’t been sure at the time why Remy had so adamantly avoided the subject of their major but it was obvious they didn’t want to share and Logan was learning not to push. It bothered him immensely—because it was another missing piece of the puzzle when it came to figuring Remy out—but he didn’t want to risk their friendship over something so trivial.

Remy sighed, directing their gaze upward and away from Logan. “It’s astronomy.”

And suddenly, Logan felt he had a much clearer picture of who Remy was then he had ever been afforded before.

Because astronomy tells tales of someone always longing for something else. It tells the story of a young child sitting on the roof, wishing to be anywhere but here, wishing to be somewhere they felt they fit. Astronomy was patient, insatiable curiosity and childish excitement hidden behind the guise of serious scientific achievement; it was someone who looked up once and never saw the worth in looking back down.

Logan tilted his head, trying to figure out the reasoning behind Remy’s previous attitude. “But why would you…?”

He trailed off as Remy huffed, twisting up their mouth with a look Logan couldn’t quite identify—something between self-deprecation, anger and regret.

“I was just so sick of people’s reactions. Sick of being told I wasn’t smart enough, sick of being told that I needed to be more realistic, get my head out of the clouds. The stars are gorgeous—” and with that, Remy leaned out further over the railing, almost as if they were trying to throw themself right up there to join them—“and there’s almost nothing I wouldn’t give to know everything I could about them.”

“I feel the same way about humans.”

Remy laughed, pulling themself back from the railing, their face painted red in embarrassment. “See? Grounded.”

Logan shook his head. “Idealistic,” he corrected, “I think we both are.”

That seemed to calm Remy, prompting them to sigh—low but not too heavy. They both returned to look out at the sky, hands resting side by side on the balcony railing and eyes catching subtle glances at each other between breaths. The atmosphere felt as if it had been lifted, making Logan seem weightless, even hopeful.

“Can you… tell me about them?”

“About the stars?” Remy looked hesitant but Logan felt as if he knew what that stemmed from. It was from every dismissal, every pointed and over-dramatic sigh and every time they’d been disrupted. Logan wouldn’t even dream of letting that happen here.

“Please,” Logan insisted, “I’ve always been interested but I’ve never really had the time to look into it. You would be doing me a favour.”

They took a steadying breath, their eyes scanning the sky for a second, before settling on one spot in particular. They pointed upward, their hand wavering ever so slightly. “That’s Sirius, d’you see it?”

Logan hummed lightly. “I’m not sure.”

Huffing a breath, Remy moved to stand behind him, pressing up against his back and resting their head on his shoulder. The two of them were about the same height—Remy was slightly taller but it was by an almost negligible amount—and yet Logan had never felt quite as small. Or as warm.

They grabbed a hold of Logan’s hand on the railing and aimed a finger towards a particular star.

"How ‘bout now?”

“Yes, I see it.” Logan’s voice was hushed, almost reverent, as if he was concerned about disturbing the quiet that had settled over the two of them.

“Sirius is the brightest star in our sky, though it’s actually a binary star system made up of two stars, Sirius A and Sirius B. It’s also one of the closest stars to Earth, sitting at eight and a half-ish light-years away.

“And if you see the stars, here…” Remy elongated the word as they drew Logan’s hand around the sky, gesturing to a few other stars in the area. “They’re all a part of the constellation Canis Major, or the Greater Dog, which also contains VY Canis Majoris, one of the biggest stars we know about. At the moment, anyway.”

Logan made a hum of acknowledgement, watching Remy grin out of the corner of his eye.

They were excited—genuinely excited—their eyes glittering and bright, biting at their bottom lip as they thought of what to say next. Again, they moved Logan’s hand, gesturing to a particular star, then another, then a cluster, then a constellation, filling Logan’s head with passionate chatter and a landslide of interesting facts.

He's certain he's never felt so fond—potentially of anyone but certainly of Remy, and he's always fond of Remy. There was just something about seeing someone engage in their passions without remorse that lifted that feeling to a whole new level.

If only there was a way to remove that hesitance for good.

"What?"

Remy drew away, their tone defensive as they caught onto Logan's shifting mood.

"It's nothing." At their unamused glare, Logan sighed, correcting himself. "I just… I wish you were this excited all the time. I don't know what happened exactly to make you so apprehensive about your interests but watching you ramble like this is enchanting, Remy."

“Well, I got an image to maintain, gurl,” Remy snarked, “Can’t just be throwing this kind of vulnerability around wherever; gotta save it for the people who matter.”

Logan flushed, ducking his head slightly to avoid the adoring look Remy was giving him, making him feel warm even despite the bite of the wind. “I have to admit that I’m vaguely surprised to be included in that group of people.”

“Hun, you’re almost the whole group. Don’t really have people chomping at the bit to be my best friend.”

Their tone wasn’t disappointed or resigned, simply stating it like they would anything else in their life and it frustrated Logan that they thought they were worth so little in the eyes of other people when they were so valuable in his own.

“I truly can’t imagine why not,” Logan muttered under his breath.

They gave Logan something of a soft look, shaking their head in a way that made Logan wonder if they’d heard him. “Anyway, I think we have a party to be getting back to, doll.”

Flipping their sunglasses back onto the bridge of their nose, they gave Logan an impish grin, tossing in a wink before pushing them up for what Logan was sure was no other reason than to watch his cheeks stain red. They had a tendency to do things like that, to make Logan flustered or stumble with their words and small gestures.

Somehow, he felt as if this could be more than simple teasing, though he wasn’t quite sure why.

They threw their arm around Logan’s shoulders, steering him over towards the door and pulling it open with more flourish than was probably required for the action.

“Wait, Remy.” Logan flung his arm out, stopping Remy halfway to walking back into the house.

He paused for a moment, trying to gather both his thoughts and his courage. Remy only waited patiently, their focus entirely on him—not on the rest of the evening or what they might be doing tomorrow, not even on the stars or the sounds of the party inside, but solely on him and this moment. 

“I… enjoyed this…” Logan began, words hesitant and low, “And I would be amenable to doing something similar again in the future. Perhaps without the drunk college students in the background.”

A smile softened Remy’s face, their sunglasses gleaming in the dim lights of the street outside and Logan couldn’t tell exactly how they were looking at him but he thought he had a pretty good idea.

“I think I’d like that.”

Logan smiled back—more involuntarily than in mirror of Remy’s own expression. He felt no butterflies or fireworks inside him; instead, Logan felt warm and safe, like a sunrise cresting over the hill, shining a light on a day that he’d been anticipating for months now.

It would also be fair to say he felt… protected. He always did with Remy. Logan would never claim to want for or require protection by any means, however, it was comforting all the same.

“Good.”

It was barely more than a whisper, a suggestion of a word rather than practical implementation.

“Good,” Remy echoed. Then their brow furrowed the tiniest bit, their smile turning into a smirk, “It’s a date then.”

Logan nodded absentmindedly. “Yes, it’s a dat- wait, what?”

Remy laughed at his shocked expression—bright and sharp and their tongue poking out and gods, they were so pretty; Logan wasn’t sure he was capable of fitting all of these emotions inside his chest without simply exploding.

They painted on a Cheshire-cat grin, somehow looking amused and affectionate all at once. “See you ‘round, McKenzie!”

And with those parting words, Remy twirled on the spot and disappeared into the crowd of people, leaving Logan with nothing more than the sound of their laughter ringing in his ears and a night to look forward to. 

Taglist: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @mctaetae613 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @rainboots-are-for-snobs @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @kee-and-co @autistic-virgil @stop-it-anxiety @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes @poisonedapples @sanders-screams @another-sandersidesblog @do-not-just-see-observe @mychemicalpanicattheemo @thomassandersenthusiast 

[blackcloverdatabase]

English Translation of Novel 1: Chapter 3 – Your Dream Will Come True (Part 2 of 2)

Here’s the second half of Yami’s and Magna’s teaching adventure! As a recap, third period is about to begin for these students, and Yami just told them he’ll do a Q&A session with them. However, the students will have to land an attack on him if they want him to answer their questions.

Also, the Diamond Kingdom spy gets revealed. Did you guess their identity correctly?

--- Your Dream Will Come True (Part 2) ---

Elude and the other students certainly had a bad feeling about the lesson Yami devised, but they didn’t think they’d have to lay their lives on the line for a Q&A session.

“Ah, when I say finishing blow, I just mean hitting us with an attack strong enough to make our asses hit the ground.”

“No, that’s not the problem here! W-what’s up with those rules!? That’s no Q&A session I’m familiar with!”

Elude couldn’t help but protest. ‘There’s way too much fighting involved in his lessons!’ he thought. He went out of his way to warn Allison, but it looks like it doesn’t matter whether somebody provokes Yami or not.

“Quit complainin’. Information’s not usually somethin’ you get for free.”

‘That’s why we’re paying money to go to this academy…….’ they all thought. It didn’t seem like this terrible teacher’s rampage would end anytime soon. Elude had to choose his words carefully.

“…… Um, even though this school is in the Common Realm, we’re on the very border between the Common and Forsaken Realms, you know? There’s not a single person here aiming to become a Magic Knight. That’s why, even if you teach us as thoroughly as you’re doing now, none of us are going to be able to use any of that. I think you would be wasting your time by doing this, Yami-sensei.”  

Just as he finished talking, he prodded two of his followers with his elbows, and the two continued where Elude left off.

“T-that’s right. Maybe you’d find students willing to fight you at a school closer to the Royal Capital, but at a school like this……?”

“P-plus, we used up all our physical and magical stamina in the last lesson…… we can hardly move anymore.”

After hearing out their opinions, Magna created a fireball in the palm of his hand.

“Alright, I’ve heard your questions!! If you want me to answer them, then come at me!”

“No no no! You have us wrong! Those weren’t questions! Those were our opinions!”

“Shut up! Stop complaining and attack already! Or do you want me to attack first, huh!?”

‘…….Are these guys……. serious!?’

They were sweating buckets as they looked at Harris-sensei for help. However……

“Ah, I’m so useless! He’s making a bloodbath of my students, and all I can do is watch!”

“You can stop him! There’s still time to stop him! Go rescue your students already!”

“Lets goooOOOOoooOOOoo!”

While Elude was going off at his teacher, Magna prepared to throw his fireballs, but……

“……Ahh, that’s enough. You can stop there.”

Yami said coldly, catching Magna’s hand.

“Huh!? Is it really okay if I stop!?”

“Yeah. After all……”

Yami looked at the students who looked like they wanted to run away, and with his usual apathy,

“Since the beginning, these guys have been making up one excuse after another. They’re the types who run away from the things they need to do.”

He said something like that.

“………...”

……Without a doubt, Yami was the one in the wrong here. Saying that they had to fight him if they wanted him to answer their questions was just an excuse to harass them, right? It was an unreasonable request, and they had the right to refuse it.

However……

“I was thinkin’ I could light their fighting instincts by riling them up a bit, but no matter what I try with these guys, it looks like that’s not happenin’. They have a point. I’m wasting my time with this lot.”  

Each and every word stabbed deep into their chests. Attending a school at the border of the Common Realm was quite the social handicap. Even if they wanted to learn, there was only so much they could learn at a school with as few resources as this one. There was nothing they could do.

They were already physically and magically exhausted, so they had plenty of reason not to fight him. On top of all that, their opponent was a Magic Knight Captain. There was no way they would be able to land even a single hit. They would just get beaten up instead. There was nothing they could do.

There was nothing they could do. There was nothing they could do. There was nothing they could do.

How many times have they told themselves there was nothing they could do? And how many more times were they going to tell themselves this in their lifetime?

“Actually, I knew this the second I stepped into this classroom. None of them looked like they were aimin’ for anythin’. They all had a dead look in their eyes.”

“………!”

The problem they were trying not to look at was now swelling forth in their hearts, crushing them with all the important questions they’ve been trying to avoid.  

For some reason. Yami’s careless words made them all feel that way.

“Alright, then let’s return to the classroom. The rest of the day can be study hall.”

He added for good measure before turning around and walking back toward the school building with Magna in tow.

He’s gone.

However, they found themselves unable to move. All the times they thought “there was nothing they could do” had accumulated together and was weighing down their feet. They had accumulated a dozen years’ worth of questions, but that wasn’t enough to destroy what little self-esteem they had left. And yet……

……And yet!

WHOOSH

A fireball flew over their heads as they stood immobilized by their troubles. That fireball blazed with terrifying speed toward Yami’s back, and was just about to strike him, but,

“Looks like we got one.”

He deflected it with the back of his fist, causing it to form a large crater several meters away in the ground. After he did so, the students could see a black mist-like mana covering his right hand.

“Looks like my conversation skills are awesome enough to light someone’s fighting instincts, after all.”

“I was planning on doing this from the start. I was just waiting for the perfect timing.”

That attack was amazingly powerful, but the fact he was able to deflect the attack with his bare hands was also amazing.  This is what the rest of the class thought in stunned amazement as they watched Yami and the person who launched the attack – Allison.

“This is my first question – why is your personality so warped, Yami-sensei?”

She said with a belligerent smile. When she saw that her first shot missed, she quickly entered a stance so that she could launch an attack up close.

“That wasn’t a finishing blow, but I’ll make a special exception and answer you. It’s because, naturally, a cute boy like me was spoiled by everyone around me growing up.”

Yami turned toward Magna and handed him his Magic Knight robe. He then covered his entire body with a black mist.

“Magna, keep watch so that we don’t destroy the school building with our magic. This kid’s pretty strong even without her grimoire.”

“Yessir!”

After speaking with Magna, Yami smiled ferociously at Allison. As she generated magic for her second attack, she took a deep breath, and then yelled,

“You’re not cute at all!”

“Shut up! I’m a soft and fluffy Virgo!!”

With that, a third period class where they absolutely had to land their attacks began.

 “……Huh, we’re gonna fight the students directly?”

“How bad is your hearing, anyway? We can just tell them that it’s combat training.”

This conversation occurred right before the third period class from hell began. At that time, the students were all heading toward the water fountain while Yami and Magna spoke in private.

“So far, the spy hasn’t made any movements that make them stand out. It seems like they’re tryin’ to get through this day quietly.”

Yami checked one more time to confirm that nobody would hear him before continuing.

“That’s why, I think that nothin’s gonna to happen if we continue our current strategy of shaking them up and seein’ what happens. With just this strategy, we’ll be giftin’ our spy a huge chance to act.”

“……And that chance will come by……. fighting the students in a combat training exercise?”

“Yeah. There’s no better chance to watch a Magic Knight fight from up close. I think they would be more than willing to participate in the fight if it means collecting even a little bit of information.”

If they are greedy enough, they might even attack Yami and Magna with the intent to kill. Yami was pretty sure that they wouldn’t expose themselves like that, but it would be interesting…… er, rather, it would give them definitive proof of the spy’s identity if they did. At the very least, he could look forward to a different reaction than what they’ve been getting so far.

“But, if we do that, won’t everybody who attacks us look just as suspicious?”

“Oh? That was sharper than I would expect from you, Magna.”

“Heh heh, stop that! You’re making me embarrassed!”

“…….Uh, well, that wasn’t meant to be a compliment, but I’m impressed by your positive attitude.”

His positive attitude was amazing, but he wasn’t praising him.

“I’ll make that judgment when the time comes. I already have my aim on somebody, and I’ll know what their intentions are by watching their movements and breathing as we fight.”

Their gaze, their breath, the way their muscles move – all of those are signs composed through the energy emitted by all living things. Yami’s homeland called this energy “Ki”.  What that person wants to do, what their psychological state of mind is, whether they’re in good or bad condition – if he reads their Ki, he can perceive all sorts of information about them. He can’t read what they’re actually thinking, but he can read what their general intentions behind their attacks are. No matter who they are or what attack they use, he should be able to discern the identity of the spy by reading those intentions.

“That’s Yami-san for you! ……Wait, huh? Then, shouldn’t you have just read their Ki from the start……?”

“Yeah, if we did this lesson from the start, I probably would have been able to identify the spy in one go.”

“HUUH!?”

“But if we tried to make the students do that at the start, their dissatisfaction with us wouldn’t have been as large as it is right now.”

After luring them in by answering their questions, forcing them to run a marathon, and making them compete in death matches against each other, the students’ malcontent has been gradually reaching its limit. Yami could tell because of their Ki.

“Don’t you think a more interesting battle will happen if we get them riled up first, rather than if they fought us with no emotion at all?”

“……Umm, sorry, Yami-san. I think, like before, I’m a bit too stupid to follow.”

He knows they’re going to fight them, but…… like before, he’ll have to get Yami to say it in simple terms.

“So my job is to find the spy, right?”

In response to Magna’s question, Yami looked happily at the students who were returning.

“Well, while we’re at it.”

‘While we’re at it……. What?’ Magna thought.

“…….Well, whatever! You must be thinking about something super deep! But if it’s to catch the spy, then you can tell me what you’re thinking, right!?”

“No way. Your face would give my plans away.”

“No, please don’t underestimate me! By the time the spy notices my face, I’ll beat the crap outta them!”

“Don’t try to exceed my expectations please…… well, still, if you don’t move when the time comes, that would be a problem for me, so I’ll give you a hint.”

At the time, Allison had come back early and was sitting properly a few feet away as she waited.

“……The spy is a person who is not very good at hiding their emotions.”

‘…..That’s not much of a hint at all,’ Magna thought.

And thus, the “Instructor-lead combat training” Yami so hoped for began.

 “You’re not soft and fluffy at all! Try saying that after you shave off all that hideous stubble from your face!”

“I’m a soft and fluffy young man with stubble! My messy lifestyle is what makes me charming, damn it!”

Allison unleashed her attacks in rapid succession, but Yami knocked them all away. As he punched all her attacks away and closed the distance between them, Allison skillfully ran from place to place, firing her magic so that she could escape his grasp. As Magna watched their rather showy battle, Magna became convinced that she was the spy. After all, she was simply oozing anger and hostility.

‘……But Yami-san looks like he doesn’t want me to move yet. Why…….?’

Yami will give him a signal the moment he wants him to use his ropes. After being with him for all these years, Magna had no doubt in what he was seeing.

‘Does he still want me to observe the situation……? Or does he want me to guard the other students……?’

He stole a glance at the other students. It didn’t look like a stray attack would hit them. They just watched the two fight it out at a safe distance. None of them made any moves that would suggest that they would enter the fray as well. However……

“……Don’t think you can get away with this……!”

…...Magna heard a small whisper.

“Don’t think you can get away with saying whatever you want!”

A lone boy, Elude, screamed.

“What do you mean we have ‘dead eyes’! Get your eyes checked, you blind bastard!”

“T-that’s right, damn it! You came in looking like you just killed a man!”

“You said you were trying to motivate us, but all your ideas are hot garbage!”

Elude’s two followers continued where he left off as they got ready to fire an attack at Yami as well.

Because of them, the other students started glancing at each other, and,

“D-don’t go deciding our futures for us!!”

“That’s right! We’re all doing our best, too!!”

One after another, they joined the battle.

“We’re not running from what we have to do! I-I’m doing my best to learn magic here so that I can get a job at the castle town and support my Mom!”

“I want to open a flower shop in the Royal Capital when I grow up, so I wanted to ask you so many questions…….  How dare you say it would be a waste of time! You’re horrible!”

Before even ten seconds had passed, the entire student body unified against Yami and started a concentrated attack against him.

‘This situation’s out of control!’

The whole spectacle was making Magna sweat. This was what Yami was aiming for, but Magna had no idea where he should be looking. He looked toward Yami, who was now the target of 22 different attacks, for guidance, but,

“Ha ha! No way. You couldn’t hurt cute little me before, and you sure as hell can’t now! If you give up now, I’ll teach you how to be as cute and fluffy as me!”

‘He’s having fun with this!’

‘…….It looks like it’s up to me to observe the situation on my own.’

“We don’t care about that! Teach us more about the Magic Knights!”

Allison managed to close the gap between her and Yami thanks to all the support her classmates were giving her. She fired an attack at close range, but,

“I refuse~ So, why are you so interested in learnin’ about the Magic Knights anyway?”

He asked as he easily countered her attack with a right hook, making the gap between them large once more. Just as she was about to step back,

“Don’t hold back! We’ll get him with one more shot!!”

Elude fired at Yami, leaving his chest defenseless for just a moment.

“………!!”

Allison boldly leapt toward Yami, and put all her mana into her right hand.

“Because I want to join the Magic Knights!!”

BANG

She launched an attack at nearly point-blank distance into his thick chest, throwing his huge body several meters back.

“Yami-san!? Are you alright!?”

“……Of course I’m not. Some of my stubble got burnt off from that attack. That was my charm point.”

Magna rushed up toward Yami with tremendous speed, but Yami stood up right away. It didn’t look like he took any damage, but the attack certainly sent him flying, and it certainly made his butt hit the ground. In other words……

The students were in a daze, until somebody whispered in shock,

“We…… did it……”

“We did it……. Ha ha, alright! We actually did it!”

“You’re amazing, Allison!!”

“You’re awesome! You’re really awesome!! You actually landed an attack on a Magic Knight Captain!!”

The others gathered around Allison as they cheered. However, Allison’s face was flushed red as she stood up.

“……D-did I j-just say I wanted to enter the M-Magic Knights?”

“Yeah! You yelled it for the whole world to hear! That explains why you’re so strong!”

Sheila said as she pat her shoulder and back, but Allison replied belligerently,

“Nope, I never said that!!”

“You really don’t want to admit it, do you! You don’t have to hide it, you know!? I think that’s really cool!”

“B……but……”

Allison glanced at Elude,

“Some people here have said……. That there’s nobody here aiming to become a Magic Knight at a school all the way out here, and that anybody who would be aiming to become one must be stupid…. So….”

“Wha……!”

Everyone glared at Elude coldly, and his two followers quickly put some distance between themselves and Elude.

“……Wait, Elude-kun? Did you really say that?”

“Wow, you’re the worst. Aren’t you embarrassed to say that?”

“You’re the ones who should be embarrassed! It’s not such a big deal, anyway!”

“……Still, I don’t think you’re wrong.”

Allison said sadly.

“This school often doesn’t have the materials required to teach me what I want to learn, and there’s a lot of things our teachers tell us that I don’t understand……. But, I don’t blame the school or the teachers…… In a place like this, if you don’t adjust your dreams to fit within your means, then you’re just going to get sick of it all……”

“………”

The smiles that were on the students’ faces disappeared. The exhilaration that everyone felt from what they just accomplished was erased by the unchanging reality that closed in on them. Realistically speaking, the number of people aiming to enter the Magic Knights after studying at a magic academy in the Common Realm was overwhelmingly small. Most people go to school with the goal of landing a job that is at least a little bit better than their parents’ or to learn tricks to make housework easier. Their goals were rooted in their everyday lives. They understood that, for people like themselves living in such a rational environment, it was pointless to aim any higher than that…….

“Still……”

It was Allison who created this atmosphere, but this time, she looked everyone in the eyes as if to erase it.

“If even people like us get serious, I think we can make even the things we thought were impossible come true…… that’s what I believe.”

Allison stared at her right palm. The heat from her magic and the sense of accomplishment she felt at that moment still remained. After reaffirming that fact, Alison turned toward Elude.

“……T-that’s why, even if you make fun of me…….. I’m going to aim for the Magic Knights.”

“……S-sure. I’m not gonna make fun of you for that….”

After that, Allison smiled shyly while Elude gave her an embarrassed grin. As the other students watched them, one by one, they, too, began to smile. Sure, this magic academy may not have the teaching materials and equipment that other schools have. However, they couldn’t let that be an excuse to give up on their dreams and settle on a different goal. They can’t help what they don’t have, but they can still work hard. Even if their environment doesn’t have what they need, they’ll search for what they can do. They’ll always have time to give up later.

“……Well, it’s a little vexing that we ended up doing what that guy wanted.”

After everyone started feeling a little more optimistic, Allison turned around away from the group. She wasn’t sure when they got there, but Yami and Magna were standing there with grins on their faces.

“But still, thank you, Yami-sensei. This is what you wanted to teach us, right?”

“……Yeah.”

While looking at the faces of each and every student, Yami said softly,

“Yeah, that is, uh……. That’s exactly it.”

‘Now’s not the time to act like you were spacing out…….!’ Elude thought, though he was sure that the others were thinking the same thing.

“More importantly, let’s go back to the classroom. As promised, let’s have a normal Q&A session.”

He said as he turned to the right, returning to the school building with Magna. Even though he sounded totally uninterested, looking at him from behind, he seemed to have a gentler atmosphere around him than before. Allison wondered if she was just imagining it.  

“He’s no ordinary guy…… actually, he’s downright strange, but he acknowledged us.”

Allison commented. The other students looked at each other before, one by one, they returned to the classroom. Unlike before, they all followed behind him of their own free will and with a smile on their faces.

“Shut up. Me being spacey earlier was just a technique to make me seem cuter. You know, like when girls act coquettish to get you to fall for them.”

“With a demon-like face like that, that just makes you more terrifying.”

“HUH!? You callin’ Yami’s face demon-like! Don’t screw with me! No matter how you look at him, he has the face of a demon KING, ya hear!”

Then, Yami iron-clawed Magna. At the beginning, the students were terrified by these acts of near-murder Yami would commit in front of them, but now, they were used to it. Some were even laughing. Some were laughing nervously, though.

“Anyway, we’re not doin’ any other dangerous classes today……”

Though the atmosphere was peaceful, Yami turned around carelessly,

“So could you stop following me like you’re gonna fire an attack at me at any moment, Harris-sensei?”

Everyone quickly turned their heads to see where Yami was looking. When they did, they saw that Harris had nonchalantly slipped himself in with the group of students, but…….

“……Huh?”

They saw that his grimoire was open, in such a way that the others wouldn’t notice.

“……Actually, if you fire your magic from here, some of your adorable little students here will get caught up in your attack and die.”

“……W-what are you saying? I just thought that I mustn’t let anything happen to them while we’re out here, so I have my grimoire open so that I can fire my magic if the situation calls for it……”

“Hmmm, the battle’s over, though. So, do you really have to be that paranoid?”

Yami took one step closer, and Harris took one step back.

Sweat was dripping down Harris’s baby face.

“Or wait, do you have your grimoire open precisely because the battle is over? Were you thinking that just maybe you’d be able to finish me off while my adorable little back was exposed to you?”

“L-like I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, it’s not like I just opened my grimoire! My grimoire has been open the whole time we’ve been out here in case something happened!”

“But right now, you’re obviously full of magic power and killing intent. Why?”

“That……..that’s because…….!”

The students had no idea what they were talking about. However, they slowly backed away from the two of them when they sensed the turbulent aura between them.

“Y’know, you’re worse at hidin’ your emotions than you think. From the moment I entered that classroom, I could feel somethin’ murderous leakin’ out from you.”

“……T-that’s enough! Just what the heck are you talking about!?”

In contrast to Harris, who was crying out as if he were in pain, Yami remained calm, but…….

“I’m talking about how you were about to attack me, and how your students would have been caught in the crossfire.”

Yami’s voice was also dreadfully cold.

“……!!”

Harris was silent, as if being pushed down by an invisible spirit. Yami sighed,

“……Anyway, I’m fine with you tryin’ to kill me, but…..”

He then sent a glance toward Magna before continuing,

“But I’m not lettin’ you get these brats caught up in your attacks, you damn spy.”

“Flame Rope Solid Binding Formation!!”

The moment Yami stopped talking, Magna shot a ball of fire at Harris.

“Tch!!”

“…H-huh!?”

However, Harris dodged the fireball and tried to grab one of the students who was in a daze over what was happening – Sheila.

“Watch out!”

“Guooh!?”

Allison shot a fire spell at Harris’s feet and used that moment to take Sheila away from him.

“Nice shot, Alli!!”

Magna was about to fire another spell at Harris while he was stopped, but……

“…….You damn brat! Stop moving around!!”

“……Tch!”

Before he could fire it, Harris escaped from Allison’s magical blaze and grabbed her by her blonde hair. He then held a knife of ice to her throat.

“You bastard! Just what do you think you’re doing!?”

“Don’t move! If you take even one step forward, I’ll slash her throat!”

To stop Magna’s barking, Harris pressed the tip of his knife against Allison’s throat. Blood oozed from the wound, making the other students go pale as they huddled together. Magna, too, grit his teeth and stopped in place.

“……Hey now, you changed your tune way too quickly. What about your cute little students?”

The only one who remained calm in this situation was Yami. When Yami said this, Harris’s face twisted into an ugly expression.

“Yeah. They are cute. They listened to all my lessons like idiots, without ever suspecting that I was a spy from an enemy nation! The fact they’re even acting as hostages for me makes me so proud of them!”

His personality completely changed.

“More importantly, how did you know it was me? Saying that I seemed hostile is rather weak reasoning on your part, you know?”

“Hmmm……. Really good gut instincts, I guess?”

“Are you kidding me!?”

“Well, also, it was your attitude as a teacher. You weren’t protectin’ your students at all.”

Harris looked at Allison’s face, which was distorted with pain, and cursed.

“If you were a teacher - actually, if you were anybody who took his position as a leader seriously - you would protect those below you from being subjected to unreasonable violence.”

“……You talk a good talk, but I don’t think somebody who uses unreasonable violence on a regular basis should be saying that.”

The snarky comment came from Allison, causing Yami to laugh.

“What the hell’s with you? You’re a hostage yet you’re tellin’ jokes like that?”

“Of course. After all, I’m aiming to enter the Magic Knights. Perhaps the situation itself doesn’t call for jokes, but being used as a hostage by someone as clumsy as Harris-sensei isn’t particularly-Eek!”

Harris pulled at her hair with all his strength, interrupting Allison’s complaints.

“Don’t get too cocky, you damn brat. There’s nothing stopping me from slicing off an ear or two.”

He tore a few strands of hair off her head, but that wasn’t enough to satisfy him. His face distorted hideously.

“Your parents are fallen nobles, right? They lost a power struggle and were driven into a remote area like this. That’s why you transferred here halfway through the school year. Am I wrong?”

“……!”

She glared at Harris with all the hate she could muster, but Harris paid no attention as he continued,

“At this rate, neither of your parents will be able to get a decent job, so you decided that you’re going to do your best and enter the Magic Knights, right? …….What a foolish brat you are. You can’t crawl your way up from a sub-par school like this one!

“You bastard……!”

Magna couldn’t bear standing by and doing nothing, so he was about to move, but Yami gave him a look that kept him in check. Allison’s snark was now gone, and she was now staring at her feet as she endured Harris’s verbal abuse.

“Well, you were such a try-hard that you even helped me organize my documents, so I appreciate that side of you. But, too bad. Even if you did all that, it’s not going to be showing up on your report card!”

“Shut up al-

“I’m fine with that. To be honest, when I did that, I secretly looked at those documents so that I could study. That’s how I knew that a Magic Knight was coming to teach today.”

The same time Magna started yelling, Allison admitted this as she looked at Yami. All the anger disappeared from her face, replaced with……

“Also, you talk too much. Thanks to you going on and on, everything’s ready.”

……A sneer.

“……Huh? Ready, you say?”

“Yes. Did you really think I would face off against you without a plan, Harris-sensei?”

She spoke as if to punctuate every word she uttered, causing the color to drain from Harris’s face.

“……What? What did you do!?”

“Look at your feet. They look like they’ll burn up at any moment now.”

Harris did as she said and looked down. At that moment,

“That was a lie.”

She used the gap she created to slip out from his hands,

“This is legit, though.”

SLAM

Yami closed in on Harris at tremendous speed and struck Harris in the face with a lariat of dreadful momentum.

“Gah!”

Before he even had time to defend himself, Harris was struck by Yami’s attack and bounced off the ground.

“Flame Rope Solid Binding Formation!!”

“Ggh!”

This time, Harris’s entire body was bound in Magna’s restraining magic.

“You damn spy! Doin’ terrible things to “the young three leaf clovers that will carry the future of this country”. I hope you’re ready to have just as terrible things done to you!”

“Magna, don’t shake him up too much. There’s an order to these things.”

Yami kicked Harris as he said this and then rushed over to Allison.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine…… though, it was a bit scarier than I was expecting.”

She sank to the floor, replying with a wry smile as her hands continued to tremble.

“Is that so……? Well, good job toughin’ it out through a scary situation like that. That was a nice feint you gave him.”

Magna was about to move, but Yami gave him a look that stopped him dead in his tracks. Then, Yami noticed that Allison was staring at her feet, occasionally glancing up at him as if she had something she wanted to tell him.

“The amount of eye-contact you’re makin’ is also perfect. After all, there are some things that can only be understood maiden to maiden.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but…… I’m glad everything turned out okay.”

Allison saw Yami and Magna sending signals to each other with their eyes, so she was trying to imitate that. She just wanted to get them to do something with her eyes.

Reading someone else’s eyes accurately and putting it into action at the perfect time – that had absolutely nothing to do with being maiden. She chalked it up to just another of Yami’s oddities.

“Well, anyway, you did a great job. We won with our maiden powers.”

“……Yeah.”

As usual, she had no idea what he was talking about, but it felt good when he put his hand on her head, so she smiled.

“……So, how’s our little spy who was leakin’ private information to other kingdoms? You dead?”

“He’s still kickin’! Should I finish him off!?”

Yami left Allison to Sheila and lumbered his way toward Harris.

“……Shit……Shit! I can’t believe I got caught by a bunch of clowns……….”

Harris was barely conscious, incoherently muttering to himself. Of course, given the state of his jawbone, it would be hard for anybody to speak clearly.

“You’re the clown here, though.”

Yami grabbed Harris’s head and lifted it up to his own.

“!!”

Yami then released a ridiculous amount of mana from his body. This mana was much sharper and heavier than the mana he was releasing when he fought the students. They simply weren’t comparable. Its sheer volume and density were overwhelmingly coercive.

“E-eek!”

Exposed to such a concentrated amount of mana, Harris trembled with fear. The students shivered as well. They could only imagine what Harris was feeling at this moment.

‘So this overwhelming feeling is Yami’s – is a Captain of the Magic Knight’s – true power……!’

“The only ones decidin’ what these kids will become when they grow up is the kids themselves. There’s not a single thing you can decide for them. Next time you go off spoutin’ nonsense like that, I’ll really give you somethin’ to cry about.”

“……I…… I’m……. sorry………”

That was all Harris could muster before losing consciousness.

 “So, the truth is, we were dispatched here to look for the spy that snuck his way in here. Sorry for gettin’ you all rolled up in all this.”

They already had Harris escorted to the Magic Knights Headquarters.

After they all returned to the classroom, Magna and Yami bowed once more.

“……I mean…… even if you apologize for all this…….”

“……Yeah. I’m not really sure how to react to it all……..”

Elude’s followers said as the rest of the class made a stir. Two people who were supposed to be guest lectures were actually here to investigate a spy, who turned out to be their homeroom teacher, who ended up getting escorted away by other Magic Knights……. That was a lot to take in. It was no wonder that they reacted like this.

“Well, fortunately, there’s nothing to suggest that that Harris bastard was givin’ you guys any weird lessons to gather information for him, and the guys comin’ from headquarters are the ones who will have to deal with the aftermath, so life will return to normal for you guys soon. You’ll be better off writin’ this day off as just a little weirder lesson than usual and worryin’ about what you’re havin’ for dinner.”

‘That’s a lighthearted way to look at it……’  Allison thought, but, admittedly, it was not something they needed to think deeply about. She won’t be able to ignore what happened today as much as Yami suggested, but it might actually be better not to dwell on it.

“That said, it was completely our fault that you all got caught up in this mess. I shouldn’t have gone for the more ‘interesting’ way of…… No, I was being negligent. Sorry.”

‘He basically admitted it out loud…..’ they all thought. Well, it wasn’t as if they sustained any injuries from the ordeal. It was certainly a scary experience for them, but it wasn’t traumatizing or anything. As they continue living their day-to-day lives, the events of today will gradually fade into a distant memory.

“I should apologize to you in particular, Allison. After all, you were used as a hostage. I’m truly sorry about that. Are your wounds okay?”

“……I’m fine. This is nothing. This can hardly be considered a scratch. In fact, I’m honestly happy that I got to experience something out of the ordinary today, so I’ll forgive you……. But, if you feel that guilty about it, I wouldn’t mind getting a little compensation.”

“HUUUH!? Don’t get cocky on us just because we were being humble for a few seconds! Actually, even from the start, I haven’t liked the way you talk to Yami-san!!”

Yami iron clawed Magna and said,

“Yeah, sure. I think you’ll probably get a reward later since you contributed to that spy’s arrest. I’m sure everyone here will be seein’ some rewards later.”

The idea of earning some cold hard cash caused everyone to start grinning.

“Well, I’ll also talk to the other Magic Knight Captains and get somebody who can give you guys a more proper lesson. I’m sure Fuegoleon would-

“But we like you guys, Yami-sensei! Magna-sensei!”

Allison blurted out before Yami could finish his sentence.

“If we’re going to have more guest lecturers, I want it to be you guys!”

“M-me too! I want it to be you guys!”

Shiela readily agreed. Elude, too, raised his hand as he agreed.

“…..Well, I guess I’d like it to be you guys, too.”

“Me too!”

“Your lessons were scary, but they were fun! Please come here again!”

Finally, after Elude’s two followers joined in……

“It felt so awesome when we finally landed an attack on you, Yami-sensei!”

“Leave out the marathon next time, though!”

“What? We hardly ever do marathons like that, so I thought it was kind of fun!”

“The next time you come here, bring some of your other squad members!”

“Yeah! I want to see what they’re like!”

The rest of the class joined in too. Hearing all this and seeing the smiles on their faces, Yami couldn’t help but smile a bit.

“……Well, I’ll think about it.”

 After that, the rest of the day passed very quickly. They had a normal Q&A session while they had lunch. In the middle of their lunch break, some staff from headquarters came to handle the aftermath of the case. After handing things off to them, Yami’s and Magna’s mission was now complete.

“……Oh, also, I think you guys are misunderstanding something about the Magic Knights. There’s plenty of people from the Common Realm in the Magic Knights.”

Just before he left to return home, Yami stopped at the exit and said as if he just remembered,

“Actually, Magna here’s a peasant.”

“Yup! I’m from Rayaka village!”

“What!?”

“Hell, I’m not even from this country.”

“WHAT!?”

Having revealed these facts at the very end, he left the classroom in as much of an uproar as when he arrived. Allison, too, couldn’t help but hang her mouth open in shock. They certainly didn’t look like nobles or royalty, but to think they were a peasant + foreigner combination…… and this peasant and foreigner were actively fighting on the front lines of the Magic Knights.

“And so, you all don’t need to be so self-conscious about comin’ from a magic academy at the edge of the Common Realm.”

Yami looked at all their shocked faces before finally landing his eyes on Allison.

“That’s why attackin’ things head on isn’t so bad now and then. Not that I would know.”

“………!!”

The Magic Knights are an army of mages under the direct control of the Wizard King. They are an autonomous organization within Clover Kingdom, the kingdom’s cornerstone of defense, and the heroes whom the nation’s citizens both honor and envy. Maybe even they will be able to become one someday. By the end of the day, their image of the Magic Knights had changed in this way.

“…...Well, do your best.”

The two who were responsible for this change left the classroom……

“……No, think about it!”

…….Well, just when the students thought they were gone, they lumbered back in.

“We’re supposed to be their teachers for the day, so we still have fifth and sixth period left.”

“!!”

They had just regained their peace of mind, but now the students’ faces were filled with fear.

“And so, I’m goin’ to make good use of those last two class periods.”

BAM

Magna slammed his bat against the floor and Yami had a ferocious smile on his face, making all the students shiver with tremendous speed.

“Shall we do it? Our special Q&A session?”

“HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH!?”

“Come at us!!”

With that, a fifth and sixth period class where they absolutely had to land their attacks began.

 --- Your Dream Will Come True: The End ---

I guess Fuegoleon was right. Yami’s a pretty good teacher in his own way. His special Q&A session reminded me a lot of Korosensei’s lessons from Assassination Classroom. Nothing to raise your students’ confidence like challenging them to land an attack on you.

Although, those students are going to come home very, very tired after a full day of Yami.

Only one chapter that wasn’t animated left, and that chapter features Noelle!

[andersunmenschlich]

Episode 4: Page Turner

This story follows a Dominic Swain. I was twenty-three, so that's... 22, 9, 27, 23. Talk about disorganization.

Dominic Swain is a theater technician who mostly does lighting, and one day he's going to see a play that's got a friend of his in it, a friend who he once had a fling with and hopes to again—which is a piece of information I really didn't need. Frankly the very idea of sex and romance makes me feel like vomiting and part of me would very much like to forget, if I could, how many people think they're brilliant.

I like people, don't get me wrong, but sometimes they disgust me deeply. It's a bit of a dichotomy. I wouldn't change them if I could, every part of them is a piece of what goes into making them so fascinating, but some things... well, some things I'd rather not think about too much.

Dominic Swain, then.

He's hanging out around the theater waiting for the show to start, and decides to spend the time in a secondhand store. I like secondhand stores. Things are cheap, and you get such a variety!

Apparently I like books more than Dominic does, though, because he says he usually doesn't bother looking through the book section. The book section is the best part of any store! Sure, some places don't have a very good selection, but it's still worth looking.

He finds an interesting book.

Oh, I like this story already. Imagine going into a secondhand shop and there, on the sci-fi/fantasy shelf, is an old book handbound in leather, written in Latin, and illustrated! With woodcuts! For four pounds, which I think is about five dollars US! Sure, it's been ages since I used to talk Latin with my family, but you'd better believe I'd be buying this Ex Altiora right away and doing some brushing up.

Dominic Swain notes that the book apparently used to belong to someone named "Jurgen Leitner," which strikes me as a pair of solid German names and makes me, as someone with a solid German name of my own, feel closer to this story.

Dominic also notes that one of the woodcuts (showing an empty night sky? somehow?) makes him feel like he's falling into it.

I have no idea how I would do a woodcut of an empty night sky.

Oh, wait—yes, I do! I'd cut a blank framed by trees or the tops of buildings or some such thing, so the viewer felt like they were looking up, past the world, into dark and bottomless space.

In any case, Dominic Swain buys the book.

He spends some time justifying his decision to pay the price set for it, which I find baffling—here's the book, here's the price, they go together nice and tidy and why, in the name of sanity, would you ever try to separate them except by the proper means of paying the price? But he talks about how there must have been some mistake in price-assigning and says he "felt like a bit of an arse for not letting them know how valuable it was," which I can't understand at all.

Value is not objective. Prices are assigned based on how much the price-assigner values the thing, not on how much the thing is "actually" worth—nothing is "actually" worth anything! If the book is more valuable to you than it is to the seller, well, isn't that your own good fortune?

Dominic Swain, like so many people, does not make sense to me.

He's alien to me on what seems to be an extremely basic psychological level... which is, of course, why I find him (and people like him) so extremely interesting.

In any case, he leaves the secondhand shop and realizes he's just about late for the play he was waiting for, so he runs off and sees it. He does not, apparently, particularly care for it—though he does like the job of acting his friend, Katherine, does in it... or he says he does, anyway. In my experience people tend to think everything done by someone they're hoping for a romantic or sexual relationship with is excellent right up until they get turned down, at which point they realize none of it was quite as good as they'd tricked themselves into thinking it was.

This is another reason to dislike that particular pair of human obsessions: they ruin your ability to perceive reality with anything even close to objectivity. They're known perceptual distorters: best to stay away from them.

More interestingly, he keeps noticing a faint smell of ozone throughout the play.

Now, I live in a reasonably ozone-polluted area, and I can tell you that though it's not horribly unpleasant-smelling or anything (at least not when you're used to it), it's bad for your lungs and hurts to breathe. At least, it hurts me to breathe it. I advise avoidance. Dominic can't figure out where the smell is coming from, which makes me think it's coming from the book.

...That's unfortunate.

I guess it makes sense with the title, though. Ozone is very much a thing you'll find in the heights—on Earth, at least!

He goes out with Katherine after the show. They have dinner and, to my relief, mutually decide that they're not interested in one another in either of those ways, freeing them up to have a conversation about the book.

Katherine tells Dominic he should get the book appraised.

Well, this comes down to asking an expert "What sorts of people would be willing to pay the most money for this thing?" which isn't an unreasonable question to ask.

At least, not if you're thinking about selling.

Even with the ozone, I admit I'd be tempted to hang on to the book, at least until I'd read it! Maybe I could seal it in Tupperware or something, keep it from poisoning me. Oh, a side note: Katherine's vertigo is triggered by the woodcuts, which means that's not a purely Dominic reaction. I like that! Apparently I have low blood pressure, so I experience orthostatic hypotension pretty regularly; feeling dizzy is kind of fun.

Dominic Swain says goodbye to Katherine, goes to his job, does it with no problems, spends some time after work hanging out with his coworkers (which sends a bit of a chill down my spine, thinking of doing it myself), and gets home late but not in a mood for sleep.

I do like his sense of humor, though.

"Oddly enough, I still hadn't learned any more Latin since I bought it twelve hours before...."

Hahaha.

He sits down to have a look at it anyway, and spends some time admiring the woodcuts. He says there are about twelve of them, mostly mountains and cliffs, but one of a tower circled by birds.

I like the sound of that one.

Then he gets enraptured by the one of an empty sky, though he has trouble looking at it for too long, which I suppose is the sign of either a very unsettling picture or a very drunk individual (he has been drinking). Or it might be both!

Wait, then he says "there wasn't much to the picture itself except for black ink and a few stylized stars."

That's not an empty sky!

I feel oddly cheated. Oh well—I suppose he meant there were no clouds or birds or... airplanes or some such thing. Just because "empty" means "without anything in it" to me, that doesn't prevent other people from using it differently (and confusing the living daylights out of me and anyone else who defines it the same way I do).

So Dominic Swain does some internet research and finally turns up something on eBay from 2007 (I would've been 28).

But it's not Ex Altiora. It's "Key of Solomon 1863 owned by MacGregor Mathers and Jurgen Leitner," and someone called grbookworm1818 bought it for... about $1500, I think that would be? But there's no picture, and this is all he can find that's even vaguely related to Ex Altiora.

So he calls it a night and goes to bed.

"I think I had a nightmare, but I don't remember the details," he says. That reminds me of the coffin from episode two!

He sleeps late, wakes up late, and spends the time before his shift going around asking booksellers about Ex Altiora. Apparently he's not interested in selling it, though some of them are interested in buying it—he just wants to know more about it, which it seems to me he could more conveniently do through, I don't know, READING IT?? What is it about Dominic Swain that he'd rather talk to people than study Latin?

Yes, I'm aware that most people are like this, but I really, truly don't understand it.

In any case, he finally finds a bookseller who's heard of Jurgen Leitner, and she tells him that Leitner was a rich Scandinavian recluse who was really into books back in the 1990s.

Apparently he'd pay ridiculous amounts of money for books, produce manuscripts he'd found somewhere and have them custom-bound, or even have authors write specific things for him (though she doesn't have any names, which is unhelpful).

One name she does have is "Mary Keay," the owner of a store called Pinhole Books, which Jurgen Leitner apparently bought from a lot.

So that's good information!

Dominic Swain works his shift, no news there, except that throughout he keeps smelling ozone (and maybe something else?) and getting dizzy, which makes me think that maybe Tupperware wouldn't be effective. That's unfortunate. I guess I'd have to sell the thing after all—but I'd definitely at least read it first! I have no objection whatsoever to actually learning a totally new language in order to read a sufficiently interesting book, and not only is this Ex Altiora very interesting indeed, I already have a foundation in Latin.

But apparently actually reading the book is an idea that just doesn't occur to Dominic Swain, who I'm coming to think of as a bit of a blockhead.

For once he doesn't hang out with his coworkers after the shift, and wanders the streets getting thoroughly lost instead. This is a thing I enjoy doing, though admittedly it's rather difficult for me: the town where I live is a small one, and after all I can't risk getting too far from home because what if I didn't make it back before sunrise?

I've cut it very close a time or two before, and each time it was very unpleasant.

Dominic Swain, on the other hand, apparently manages to wander right up to Pinhole Books, which is extremely interesting. Equally interesting is the fact that he's not surprised by this.

...Did the book lead him to the store?

What, he just wanders through the streets and falls up against a very specific bookshop?

Maybe Ex Altiora is hoping to get back into Pinhole Books?

A very old, painfully thin woman with a shaved head and every inch of visible skin tattooed over in some kind of writing opens the door when Dominic rings the bell. That... doesn't sound entirely natural, but then again I've met real people who looked similar, so who knows?

I'm reminded of Vinculus from Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell: a person with a book written on their skin, a person who is a book.

This strange book-woman is apparently Mary Keay.

Also, she's playing very loud death metal at two in the morning, which strikes me as extremely rude. Actually I think anyone who forces their music on other people, at any time, is extremely rude—but some people aren't satisfied with rudeness and have to take their actions up to a level that basically qualifies as assault.

I don't think I like Mary Keay.

Dominic Swain shows her the bookplate of Ex Altiora. She seems to recognize the name Jurgen Leitner, and invites Dominic in via not closing the door, turning around, and heading up the stairs.

Not sure I would interpret that as an invitation. Actually I probably wouldn't be able to go into the building. Too much noise—unless I had earplugs I wouldn't be able to so much as think.

Aside from the noise, though, the place sounds fascinating.

A labyrinth of books, piled high in every conceivable corner? I could spend a very long, happy time in something like that (and when I was done you can bet the place would be clean, tidy, well-organized, and thoroughly read).

Oddly, Dominic says he hadn't smelled ozone since he arrived, so... wait, he's been carrying Ex Altiora with him this whole time? He didn't say he went home after work and picked it up, so—well. I guess that explains why he was smelling ozone at work. Maybe Tupperware would work after all. In any case, either something in here is suppressing the book or it's gone inactive on its own.

She's not interested in Ex Altiora, apparently.

But she does offer to show Dominic Swain another book from the library of Jurgen Leitner.

He follows her into what sounds like a lovely, cozy little study: bookshelves covering every wall, packed with books, a clearly much-used desk and chair, and one patch of wall without shelves, but with a picture. Sounds like the sort of place I'd like.

The desk's covered with papers, and also features fishing line and a straight razor. You know, I don't actually own a straight razor?

I have lots of edged weapons—a machete, paired kama, loads and loads of knives—but I don't have a straight razor. Or a butterfly knife. Push daggers are also on my mental wish list, and of course I'd like something better than a simple assist open... whoops, I'm getting a little too far off topic. The point (heh) is that I don't think it's odd to have things like that on your desk, though Dominic Swain implies that he found it odd once he had time to think about it.

The picture is a painting of an eye.

It's a really good painting.

"Very detailed, and at first I almost would have said almost photo-realistic, but the more I looked at it, the more I saw the patterns and symmetries that formed into a single image, until I was so focused on them that I started to have difficulty seeing the eye itself," Dominic says.

That sounds excellent. I like that kind of picture: where tiny things add up to something big.

Now, I know that a lot of people would have trouble with a painting that looks like it's watching them. I know this because I remember the time my family got all those classical paintings for art study and we were putting them up all over the house—no one wanted anything with eyes in it in any of the bathrooms or bedrooms.

Also I read a study once in which it was proved that people behave as though they're being watched when confronted with just a picture of something with eyes.

And honestly, I often have trouble with eyes.

I don't like looking into people's eyes, because there's just so much information there that it's overwhelming. But a drawing of an eye? Well, that's different. You can stare at that as long as you like and it's not going to get creeped out, is it? A painting of an eye isn't going to mind if you just look at it, taking all that data in, without looking away or blinking or saying a single word... ever.

But it does remind me of Graham Folger's notebooks, doesn't it? "Keep watching." See, I knew having that information would be nice! It's always good to have information (even information you'd maybe rather not think about too much).

Under the painting, written in fine green calligraphy, are three lines:

Grant us the sight that we may not know. Grant us the scent that we may not catch. Grant us the sound that we may not call.

Which sounds like an invocation or a spell or a prayer to me, but... is it just me, or are the words oddly equivocal?

See, you could be asking for "the sight we may not know," or you could be asking for sight so that we may not know, like asking to be focused on one thing so you'll never see another. (I often get so focused on one thing that everything else drops away, so I know whereof I speak here.)

Also, is that last line asking for the ability to make noises you normally can't?

Only I would have ended the sentence with "hear," not "call."

Mary Keay apparently left the room for a bit while Dominic Swain was staring at the eye painting, and now she comes back in with two cups of tea and the information that "her Jared" painted it.

She doesn't drink her tea. She leaves it on the desk. This strikes me as a bad sign, and in Dominic's place I wouldn't've drunk my tea, either.

Dominic Swain, though, doesn't want to be impolite. So he tries to drink it, and it's old and nasty and tastes like dust and smoke and may possibly have poisoned him, though he doesn't say anything about that and apparently he survived to give this statement, so... maybe not.

Anyway, Mary Keay finds her Leitner and hands it to Dominic Swain.

Interestingly, it looks just like Ex Altiora, so these two must both be ones Jurgen Leitner had bound specially. This one's untitled and written in Sanskrit.

...And Mary laughs at the idea of reading it.

Well, fine. Be that way, Mary—I didn't like you anyway.

Oh. Then she walks over to the desk and uses it as a shade so she can stick the book into a patch of dark shadows. And the heavy metal music's stopped! That's a relief, not that I was imagining it in the background this whole time or anything.

And when she hands the book back to Dominic, the book starts dumping little, twisted animal bones everywhere.

See, that's just untidy. I disapprove.

Dominic wants to know if Ex Altiora does that, and Mary laughs again and tells him to check, so he opens it up and has a look and right away notices that some things have changed.

Somebody's turned up the contrast on the woodcuts, and there are new lines in the background of each picture, thick, dark ones stretching from the sky to the ground. And in the picture of the "empty" night sky, there's some kind of pattern, which Dominic Swain unhelpfully does not describe particularly well at all, though he does say he recognizes it. Also he becomes very dizzy and almost falls over and then decides to leave right away, which he does.

Apparently the smell of ozone is back, stronger than ever, and he falls down the stairs on his way out, giving himself a nasty bruise and a twisted ankle before getting out in the street and hailing a taxi and going home. With Ex Altiora. So... it didn't want to stay in the shop? Maybe it just wanted something that was there.

Oh, now he describes the pattern. It's the Lichtenberg figure. I know that pattern too, it's like a branching fern.

Though it looks different on different surfaces, depending on where the electricity started from and how it flowed, so that's still not a great description—but it's better than none at all, I suppose.

Dominic says he knows it from the back of his childhood friend, who got struck by lightning because of him. That seems unlikely to me. I mean, unless he staked his friend down and set up a lightning rod? Dominic Swain doesn't seem like the kind of person who would do that, though, so this is probably some kind of irrational guilt thing.

...Yup, that's what it was.

So he and his friend Michael Crew were eight years old, playing outside, it starts to rain, Michael says "Let's go in," Dominic says "Let's not," Michael says "All right," and then he gets hit by lightning right there? Yeah, that doesn't strike me as an "all your fault" sort of situation.

Oh, and now we know what the other smell under the ozone was!

Cooking meat.

So this book smells like whatever scent you associate with a traumatizing sky-related event? Maybe I wouldn't need the Tupperware at all.

Dominic Swain gets home and collapses on his couch, where he lies with a feeling that he's waiting for something. Looks like the book's still messing with his head (no surprise there). Eventually somebody knocks on his door, he opens it and somebody who sounds like either Kiritsugu or Harry Dresden on a bad day is on the other side: hair too dark for his skin, unshaven, tired-looking, long dark coat.

Dominic Swain asks if he's Jared Keay.

This seems like an odd assumption, but apparently it's correct because the man says yes, he is, and asks to see Ex Altiora.

Dominic shows it to him. He looks at it silently for a while—without touching it—then nods and offers to buy it for over $6000. At this point Dominic says he would've been fine with giving the thing away, except that he had the feeling that unless money changed hands it'd stay tied to him.

So he agrees and Jared leaves to get the money.

Dominic Swain, now all alone with a book which, frankly, I don't understand his reaction to (it's weird, sure, but isn't that just fascinating?) ...he decides to do some Googling.

He Googles Jared and Mary Keay.

And he discovers that Mary is dead.

Actually he discovers that Mary was murdered back in 2008, four years before this statement. She died due to too many painkillers, but then somebody flayed her body (probably with a straight razor) and used fishing line to hang the skin up around the study to dry. And then they just left her there, until the neighbors complained about the smell and the police found her.

Also, while she was an old lady, she had hair and no visible tattoos. (No word on how skinny she was or wasn't, though.)

So then Jared Keay went on trial for his mother's murder, which seems about right to me, and got acquitted after a certain piece of important evidence was deemed inadmissible, although nobody seems to know what the piece of important evidence actually was.

...A book...?

And then Jared comes back, because of course he does.

Dominic Swain lets him in. Jared Keay gives him an envelope full of money. Dominic gives Jared the book.

Jared avails himself of Dominic's solid metal trash can and burns the book on the spot. The smell of ozone clears right up. Dominic asks why he's burning the thing, but all Jared says is that his mother doesn't always know what's best for their family, which doesn't seem like much of an answer to me, especially when he could just say "What, doesn't it smell better?" or something like that.

Jared Keay picks up the hot trash can full of smoldering ashes and heads out. He does not, apparently, ever return the trash can. So that's rude.

...Ooh.

Mr. Sims says, "I suppose it was too much to hope that we’d finally dealt with all that remained of [Jurgen Leitner's] library after the incident in 1994," which... does that mean he's encountered supernatural books before? Back when I was five? And if so, why's he still a skeptic?

Apparently Jurgen Leitner's books are a currently active Institute project.

I wonder what the Magnus Institute is doing with those books?

He also says that his predecessor, Gertrude Robinson, was head archivist for over fifty years. Geez louise, that'll give an incompetent plenty of time to mess things up.

Also, it seems like Jonathan Sims definitely makes sure his assistants know which statements he's recording to audio before he records them, because they always have plenty of time to do research beforehand. He says the third one of his assistants, Martin, couldn't find any evidence that a book named Ex Altiora ever existed, so he had his assistant from the first episode, Sasha, give it a go and she couldn't find anything either.

I get the feeling Jonathan thinks Martin isn't terribly reliable.

Not sure why, since thus far he hasn’t shown any signs of incompetence, but I suppose Mr. Sims worked for the Magnus Institute for four years before becoming head archivist so he might easily know something about this Martin that I don't.

Also, he says "If there are Leitners out there that we haven’t even heard of, I fear that may be cause for some small alarm," and he wants the search for missing Leitners to be made the Institute's top priority in order to avoid harm to the world, so how in the heck is he still a skeptic? Is it that he only knows about specific types of supernatural phenomena, so he discounts all the others?

Maybe it's that.

They have no idea who donated the book to the secondhand store, none of the staff remember it, and they can't find any mention of Jared Keay after his trial except this one.

But Tim, with what I'm coming to think of as his usual disregard for rules, somehow managed to get hold of the official police report on Mary Keay's death, so we now know that the flayed skin left drying around the study had been Sharpied all over in Sanskrit.

...Wow, she really was a living book.

Except how does that work? Because the binding on that Sanskrit Leitner matched Ex Altiora's, and doesn't that mean she'd have to have belonged to Leitner?

Okay: Jurgen Leitner did stuff with Pinhole Books in the 90s, Mary Keay was murdered in 2008, and this story took place in 2012. So unless Jared Keay gave his mother's book-body to Leitner—oh, this just doesn't make sense at all.

The two must be separate.

Maybe Mary Keay's supernatural book can be used to turn people into books? Except that her body was still hanging around for the police to find, so... well, maybe that particular Leitner can summon book-corpses from local graveyards or something, who knows. Or maybe it just summons the skin, and the weirdly twisted animal bones it drops are what it uses for a base to hang the skin on?

Whatever the case, I'm really starting to get into this podcast.

[kawoshin-is-my-sin]

Why I feel disappointed by the new NGE translation of episode 24 from Netflix (and so should you?)

First of all, when I heard Netflix is about to put one of my favorite series up to their sites, I was pleased. Not only it would get more people interested in it, but I would also enjoy re-watching some of my favorite moments again. And so I did. Obviously, I started out with my favorite episode 24 to remind myself of the suffering I had to get through watching it. And well...this time it was actually a different kind of suffering.  

-Seeing this gif you might realize this will be full of spoilers so beware- 

You might ask yourselves what was so terrible I forced myself to post this rant publically for the first time. And well it all started with me realizing Netflix came out with their own translation and surprisingly, dubbing as well. First I was pleased with their effort, so I tried watching episode 24 with English dubbing as well as with English subtitles and oh boi, that was a ride.

What needs to be brought up is the fact English subtitles do not match the dubbing in equivalent language nearly at all. What happens to be problematic especially in such complex shows like Evangelion, where words and their meaning are crucial for deeper portrayal and depiction of characters, and even slightest formulation differences might appear alarming. At least to me. 

So let’s start specifically with Kaworu Nagisa and his first appearance. What made me frown upon was the complete reconstruction of his dialogues and approach to Shinji himself. Although we do know he is not an ordinary 15 years old child, (so let’s avoid arguments such as ‘not a single child would say that!’) still he tries to act as one and uses simple verbal structures to interact with people around him. Yes, he still has his philosophical monologues about humanity and loneliness, which appeal to Shinji, but he uses them as a key, making Shinji open up and gain his trust. 

Bearing this in mind, the new English dubbing makes absolutely no sense. Sure, it overall sounds more poetic, but why would a random guy try to make his way to his shattered object of interest by using complicated structures? When I studied Japanese, my teacher pointed out that although it is important to remain polite at any cost, using honorific speech in any language puts you subconsciously in position above others, already making a transparent wall in your relationship, being unable to get under someone’s skin. And that’s the complete opposite of what Kaworu needed for his ‘mission’ he was assigned.

You see, here I came to the conclusion person behind his dialogues translation had no idea of Kaworu’s intentions or how generally psychology behind the manipulation works. Because nearly every sentence he says appears overly polite and cold because of the slightest exchange of words or word order from the original translation. Like Kaworu would be a kind of person to feel superior to someone on purpose? 

C’ mon. . . but move on to the main issue that made me write this rant. 

Kaworu’s and Shinji’s bath scene

Another important interaction scene between Shinji and Kaworu was again a big disappointment to me. Moreover, many sentences that were originally appearing as weapons to make Shinji open up were unreasonably complicated and put Kaworu in the stuck up position, making him look even like a creep at some points. But the absolute peak statement for me was... 

      ‘You are worthy of my grace’

(Originally altered from ‘You have my regard for it’ followed by ‘I love you’, but we will get to that later)

I am sorry, but in the combination of the voice actor’s almost whispering voice, I immediately felt anger flow within my body because it indeed sounded like something you could possibly tell to your servant, not your friend. I do realize grace has various other meanings that do not convey an arrogant message, but together with worthy and my in one sentence it nearly flashes a big red NO sign. 

Again, here we go to the misunderstanding of a character’s intention and complication of translating Japanese phrases to other languages. Kaworu, knowing how avoidant and actually self-hateful Shinji is, wanted to bring out his purity of heart which makes him worth loving. Not worthy for Kaworu, not for anyone else in his life, but for Shinji himself, who is already at this point reaching the very peak of his remaining mental stability. 

This completely contradicts with Kaworu’s new statement about Shinji being worth of his grace 

                      ‘I like you’

Let’s forget all the KawoShin shipping for a while and let’s remind ourselves of the current state of Shinji’s mind. He is left alone, being unable (or rather does not dare to) to speak to Rei neither Asuka, knowing not even his own father loves him. I even dare to say that at his age, Shinji had never experienced any kind of love in his whole life, which just adds more stairs to the whole self-hatred ladder he developed by some time. 

And Kaworu openly telling him he loves him, whenever with romantic intentions or not, gives Shinji a feeling of importance for at least someone in his life, completely trusting Kaworu for telling him the thing he desperately wanted to hear basically from anyone in his life. This puts another level of importance on this phrase and it makes me disappointed they cut it off just like that. 

Screenshots of comparison between the old translation and the new one:

I won’t dig into the rest of this episode since the second half was managed acceptably, ignoring the fact captions in subtitles say completely different things than in dubbing???, but I hope the vast majority of you got my point. Anyways, I am still pleased we got Neon Genesis Evangelion on Netflix, but the new translation made it honestly difficult to enjoy. As I said, I do not look at this situation as a triggered KawoShin shipper, rather as a person who appreciated the fact Shinji had at least one person who was able to listen to him and provide him reassurance in his actions. Not as a boyfriend, but as a true friend. 

                                                                               6/21/2019 written by Bya 

[whisker-biscuit]

Harley Quinn is Not A Good Role Model: Chapter 6

Rated T-M for language and graphic descriptions of violence

Pairing: Dr. Flug/Black Hat

Summary: Dr. Flug Slys is a successful psychiatrist working at one of the world’s most respected mental institutes for the criminally insane. But this new patient is unlike anything he’s ever encountered. Flug is determined to help him, nonetheless.

Black Hat has other ideas.

Chapter 6: Therapy 101

10:50 am

Flug tapped energetic fingers against the doorknob of his office, debating whether arriving early would be seen as a sign of preparedness, eagerness or desperation. He had been ready to go for over half an hour and was trying very hard not to rush up. He looked at his digital clock on the desk and counted the individual seconds as they passed. The moment the minute changed to 10:51 he could stand it no more and left his sanctuary in a burst of anticipation.

As he started down the hall, a familiar, unwanted coworker came around the corner.

“Oh, Dr. Slys!” Bautista gave a cheerful smile, “I was just on my way to collect you for the session.”

“Um,” the doctor stopped as he was approached. “I thought you got my email last night.”

“Sure did, about my intern? I think it’s a great idea, giving Lauren the kid to deal with. Thanks for the help.” The larger man flicked a thumb briefly against his nose and sniffed.

“I said it’d be a good idea to ask for her input not, not just dump Mart – your intern on her. That’s still your responsibility.” Flug rocked back on his heels to look up, squinting irritably. “And please refer to her as Dr. Rorschach. She’s our superior.”

“Eh, I’ll call people whatever I want. Don’t worry your paper head about it.” There was a dismissive hand wave in his direction. “Anyway, you ready to go? I’m excited to get this one to crack.”

“I thought you said you read my email.”

“Yeah, I skimmed it, why?”

“Well I,” the psychiatrist wrung his hands up his clipboard, “I did some thinking yesterday and I mentioned this in the email, but I…” God, he hated confrontations in person. “I think it might be better if we, if I was the only one working with Black Hat, at least today.”

His colleague’s smile was waxen. “What do you mean, Doctor?”

“The patient seems a lot more comfortable with me than anyone else already, and you – you let some information slip that I didn’t want him to learn.”

“What, your name? Come now, Flug, that’s not really that important –”

“It is, it is to me, alright?” Flug couldn’t quite keep the biting tone out of his voice. “Look, I’m grateful for your help yesterday, I really am, but I really don’t think this case will need more than one psychiatrist. I’m sorry for interrupting your schedule so much already.”

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Bautista peered at him, smile gone now. “But I was under the impression that Patient 513 is incredibly dangerous and needs extra caution. I mean, you wouldn’t shut up about it yesterday. What changed, Flug?”

I don’t trust you to do your job, was the thought that made the doctor’s jaw clench, unseen. But he answered instead with, “I’m worried about the casualty count with so many people. I’m still planning to keep a security guard in the room with me, but if the patient prefers only one psychiatrist – which seems to be the case – I won’t refuse his request unless it becomes unreasonable or dangerous. I hope you understand.”

They stood facing each other, stock still, one face masked and serious and the other slowly turning a shade of violent red.

“I’m taking this up with Lauren,” Bautista threatened, eyes dark. “You think I’m incompetent, Flug? Think I’ll drag your perfect little record down? See how smug you are with a filed complaint against you.”

Flug’s fingers twitched at his side. “I’d be willing to discuss it with you and Dr. Rorschach, when time permits. I’m sure we can come to a compromise for everyone. But I’ve already requested the changes to the director. I’m sorry, but I have an appointment with a patient and I’m going to be late.”

He had to skirt along the wall to avoid touching his angry colleague, who refused to budge to make space for him. The psychiatrist felt a bitter, biting gaze on him until he turned the corner, and his teeth grinded together at the absurd politics of it all.

This was why he worked better with the inmates. Fewer games.

...

I was not able to sleep more than two hours at a time after my third encounter with my would-be therapist. Of course, that is not to say I had slept particularly well the evening before, either – plans of escape and wariness of a new environment puts a damper on one’s ability to relax, after all. But last night I was up for a very different reason.

Ninety minutes with this human who has so strangely caught my interest.

I must say I could not predict what that would entail. I have been the subject of attempted “psychological analysis” before, but it had been more of a plan by the authorities to draw a confession from me. When I realized this, I had only done the logical thing before making my escape.

Dr. Hyde passed away recently from medical complications, if I’m not mistaken.

But this…I could not detect an ulterior motive from Dr. Flug Slys. It might have been good acting on his part – highly unlikely – or a misjudgment on mine – nearly impossible. It is not something I encounter often among humans, regardless of their social status. Today would be an excellent chance for me to probe at him as he struggled to do the same. I was going to learn about this man, and why he was so fascinating, and how I might use that to my advantage.

It would be a lovely way to pass the time until my inevitable liberation from this depressing place.

When my doctor unlocked my cell door and fumbled pitifully inside with another guard, I was waiting impatiently in the center of the room.

“You’re late,” I hissed in mild irritation. I did not have access to a clock here, not yet, but I felt this truth in my being. The resulting apologetic flinch confirmed my instinct.

“Ah, yeah sorry, I was d-dealing with a…an internal issue. It t-took longer than I thought it would.” Dr. Flug rubbed his arm in sheepish cowering. He appeared distracted and I could not have that.

“Then you would do well to remember where your priorities lie, Flug. Tardiness is unacceptable.”

“Of c-course, of course,” he gave me a long look, and I smirked in return. “So I guess we should g-get started then, um. Are you, would you prefer t-to stand there or would you rather sit down? It’s a long session.”

“I’m aware of how long it is, Flug. Don’t patronize me.” I watched the armed guard carefully. “I don’t feel comfortable setting myself up so vulnerably while that man is present. I will sit when he leaves.”

“Oh sorry, we c-can’t do that. I – we can’t have a repeat of t-two days ago. It’s just a precaution until we can c-confirm our safety, you understand.” My doctor raised and lowered his clipboard several times. “But m-maybe I can have him s-stand by the door while w-we talk, if you’re willing to c-cooperate.”

“I suppose I can’t ask for much more than that,” I conceded begrudgingly. They really were getting smarter. What a shame. “Very well, I will sit over here, on my…mattress, if you will at least step away from your bodyguard for a more private conversation.”

“Sounds, uh, sounds fair.” But Flug waited until I had taken the initiative and placed myself on the raised padding before coming any closer. There was still a light limp to his step that sent a thrill of satisfaction through my wrapped hands.

I crossed my legs and smiled pleasantly. “So Dr. Flug, where is your colleague? I had assumed he would be here. Or is he prone to lateness as well?”

Something tense settled in my doctor’s shoulders. “Dr. Bautista won’t be joining us today, or h-hopefully any day. You, uh, if I can make the observation,” he cocked his head at me, “you didn’t seem to like him very much.”

“You may make that observation, and I will confirm it. Your coworker is a buffoon.” I watched as he tensed further. There was an expression in the reflection of his goggles that I couldn’t yet pinpoint.

“Oh no, he’s an intelligent man, please don’t say that,” Flug held his clipboard to where his mouth might be under that bag. “He just, we just thought it would be easier to have one psychiatrist in this session instead of two.”

“Please. That man’s egotism is plastered over every exaggerated action he makes. I’ve seen it before, and have no interest in tolerating it.”

As I watched, my doctor’s left hand reached up to run along the bottom rim of his bag, and he risked a glance at the present security, who was not interested nor interesting. When he looked back to me, I saw his hesitance become conviction.

“Is there…anything else that concerns you? Is that the only reason you don’t want him to sit in on our sessions?” Calculation. Determination. Motive. He wanted my answers for something, and I couldn’t hazard a guess at what that was.

Intrigued, I responded. “There are many reasons I have no interest in him, Dr. Flug. He has no sense of subtlety, for one, and cannot grasp at the concepts of perception and observation. Not a promising aspect of someone trained to rehabilitate criminals.”

My doctor was furiously writing my reply, possibly word for word by the way his pencil moved. He finished shortly and glanced upwards. “Is that, is that it?”

“No sincerity, either. I wouldn’t trust him with my scheduled mealtimes, much less my personal details.” As he continued scribing every accusation, I studied the way his shoulders remained tense, excited almost. The expression I had seen past his bag was increasing tenfold, and my eyebrows lifted as I recognized it.

It was mirth. He was trying to keep from laughing, trying to keep himself from revealing to me or our guard that he was enjoying this. I took the challenge.

“Would you like to know what else?” I asked innocently. Flug nodded, fast then slow, careful not to appear too eager. I uncrossed my legs. “He has no regard for you, and I assume that extends to his other coworkers as well.” I watched in glee as his hold on his pencil tightened in subconscious agreement. “He does not realize what the risks are in this job, nor what it means for you when he so offhandedly gave me the way to learn your name.”

There was a stop in the sound of granite on paper, and my psychiatrist looked up at me warily. He hadn’t forgotten our exchange yesterday, it seemed. I had not either, and although I still very much wanted to know the origin of his name, I bypassed the question in the air to ask a different one.

“May I ask why you want to know so much about your colleague, Doctor?”

“Oh, um,” Flug danced from one sneakered foot to the other. “We j-just like to document c-complaints from patients a-about…everything. For reference and uh, review.”

So he planned to use my testimony as leverage against his coworker. Without my permission. Unbelievable. In any other situation, I would have been provoked at best and murderous at worst. Even now, I could feel indignation bubbling up in a familiar spill.

“So my words will be shared with others without my consent?” I didn’t stand but drew my shoulders to full form. Irritation oozed along my tongue. “Are you telling me, Flug, that patient confidentiality means so little here?”

The little imp jerked back as if I’d scorched him. “No, n-no I didn’t – that’s not w-what I meant a-at all! I –”

“Perhaps not, but it’s what will happen, you naïve idiot.” I trembled to keep myself on the mattress. Any action that could be perceived as threatening would cut our time short, and I did not yet want that. Still, staying my hand was difficult.

“If y-you d-don’t want your p-preferences r-reviewed, I c-can keep it p-private!” Flug shook like the pathetic waif he was. His knees knocked together, making a sound that set my teeth on edge. I wanted to break them.

“You better see that it does, Flug, or else I will not be so hospitable,” My hands curled, sharp and stuck under their abhorrent restraints. “I will let you know when I want or don’t want something, and I will be very clear about it. Don’t you ever use my words without my permission.”

“I, I won’t,” the human took a moment to try to calm his tremors. “I p-promise I won’t.”

“Good. I’ll know if you’re lying.” I took my own moment, to let the anger drain from a cascade to its more regular hum. It was hard when my doctor couldn’t stop knocking his goddamn knees. “Would you kindly stop shaking, Flug!”

He sat down where he was, in the middle of the room, and the vexing sounds ceased. As my breath slowed and my irritation diminished, I noticed that Flug was forced to tilt his chin up to meet my gaze. I looked down at him and felt…hmm.

“What?” My doctor blinked quizzically and I schooled my expression with practiced ease.

“Nothing, Doctor. Simply grateful you can follow orders so promptly.” How curious. My sense of dominance was fairly common when I had power over a human in any form. Here, I could not deny that I had little hold of Flug beyond basic fear, but his position now brought forth that feeling of control, shallow but present at the base of my hat. I knew very well the influence of posture and placement in displays of dominance, but this felt distinctly different than usual.

Fascinating.

Of course, Flug took that moment to stand back up, destroying the bizarre scene and the thoughts it evoked. I waited impassively as he collected himself and filed away this discovery to consider later, when I was left alone again.

“Alright so,” my psychiatrist gave me a guarded, narrowed stare. I wondered what he might have picked up on. “I think it m-might be best if we move onto a – a different topic.”

I didn’t grace that with a response, and it made him nervous.

“Okay, um, okay. Let’s t-talk about,” Flug tapped at his left heel with his right toe. “Actually, how about you p-pick?”

This was new. I had never been asked to decide the source of discussion in meetings with ‘the right side of the law’. But it was irrelevant. I was finished with this session as soon as I learned my words would be used. It was time to end it.

“Mm,” I considered him. “Is there anything off-limits?”

“No, I, you can talk about a-anything you’d like.” He tapped at his right heel with his left toe. It was symmetrical to his previous action. “It can be trivial, or serious, or w-whatever.”

“Very well,” I shifted in my seat and leaned forward, showing teeth. “Let’s discuss you, Dr. Flug.”

“M-Me?!” My doctor squeaked, tugging at his bag. It was quite amusing. “I don’t think we should –”

“I believe you said I would choose the topic, and I have. If I am to share anything, I must know the little psychiatrist who hasn’t fled yet and seems to have a death wish.” Every word made Flug closer to the image of frightened prey. I took in a breath of the fear.

“Well, ah…” He was tense as a violin bowstring, and I waited for the inevitable, fourth time he would flee from me. “I mean, th-that is, I d-don’t think…” Any second now. It was in his body. He brought his shoulders to the bottom of his headwear. “I think, I…you know w-what? Fine.”

…What?

I blinked, dumbfounded, as he continued. “You’re r-right, I can’t e-expect this to go anywhere without, without t-trust. If we’re – if we s-start here, I guess it’s as g-good a place as any. Just…nothing a-about my name. Or the bag. O-Okay?”

I could not help it, my jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

This was not expected in the slightest. Every encounter with this creature, every mention of his name or personal life, sent him skittering like a spider caught in an open room by a human holding a newspaper. I couldn’t fathom why it was any different now.

“You h-heard me. Um. Ask, ask away, I won’t mind.” Flug’s hands flitted along his bag and clipboard.

It took longer to compose myself than I wanted him to see. My teeth cracked together into perfect symmetry and I stayed very still, looking my doctor up and down for signs of deceit. Once again, I failed to find any.

“Very well, Dr. Flug,” I hissed, frustrated. “Why do you bother toiling in a place like this? Surely someone of your…stature would be better suited in a place not so dangerous to your personal health. Maybe a lab, instead?”

“Nah, research has too many d-deadlines,” he answered fairly quickly, obviously acquainted with the inquiry. “And uh, for your first question, it’s j-just something that’s always felt right. You know? Something th-that kinda just clicks?”

I did know. It was the experience of villainy, in any and every form, that gave me that sense. I didn’t share that with him.

“You cannot expect me to believe it is only out of the goodness of your heart that you’re here, Flug.” I would have propped my elbows on my legs if not for this accursed jacket. Instead I settled with a slight lean to my right, towards my doctor.

“Ah, the m-money isn’t a small f-factor either, I guess,” Flug was relaxing, millimeter by precious millimeter. “But I’m n-not really here for m-much else. Just,” he rubbed at the back of his head, “wanna give others a ch-chance, you know? Who, might not h-have had it until now.”

“Do you think I deserve a chance, Doctor?” It was not as sarcastic as he would interpret it. I actually wanted to know his answer. “Am I someone who did not have that before?”

“Well I don’t know, I d-don’t know your history.” He looked at me, this lovely little enigma of paper and anxiety. “But I am absolutely w-willing to offer what I can. If you’ll have me.”

The choice of words made me chuckle. “If I’ll have you, Doctor? What are you implying? What goes on in these padded rooms, exactly?”

Flug was visibly red through his bag, which I wasn’t aware was possible and took great greedy pleasure out of. “I mean! I mean I didn’t mean! Not – that’s disgusting!”

He hit his clipboard against his face when the embarrassment became too much, babbling apologies and repulsion at the thought of anything at all. Quite the prude he was. My eyes drifted over to the security guard, who leaned against the door in clear apathy. His gaze was on some point far to the left. My doctor was still hiding his shame. Neither party was paying real attention to me.

I risked a shift to the end of the mattress where I sat. The guard did not stir, and Flug was busying himself with goggles practically buried in his notes. I tilted my head, calculating.

“What does ‘offering what you can’ entail exactly, Doctor? Is it merely counsel or does it extend to…physical therapy?” My grin was large.

The little wreck pressed the clipboard hard against what I assumed was his forehead, eyes covered completely. With a subtle glance at the oblivious guard, I stood very, very slowly. It went unnoticed even as I rose to my full height and didn’t move further.

“Really Flug, I’m flattered. For all my charm, I can’t say I get offers like this often.” One slide of a step, silent as death. “But I have a reputation to uphold, even in a promiscuous place as this seems to be.” Another slide. Four more to go, give or take. “What would the other villains say if they heard – can you imagine? Me, the greatest threat to mankind that ever lived, giving in to such basic, immoral, fleshy temptations.”

With every step closer I pitched my voice lower, creating the illusion of maintained distance. I probably did not need the caution. The idiot security was practically turned around, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. Flug’s eyes were closed, mumbling German things like “Bitte stoppen” and “Warum iche?”

I could smell his panic now, clear and strong and constant. Humans had the tastiest reactions. And without the doctor’s realizing it, I was standing over him, almost intoxicated by the rush of it all. I might have been stripped of my powers but stealth would never be an issue, it seems.

How I wished my arms were free in that moment. If I had all my limbs, all of them at my disposal, I could have done anything I desired. But one doesn’t need arms to contain, to restrain. I leaned close, planning to sink a hungry maw into that open vulnerable jugular, when I was forcibly stopped.

It was not because I was spotted that I was compelled to cease my ambush. Quite the contrary – the two were still flustering pathetically over my words. But it was Flug that made me stop, because I sensed something in that instant that forced me to reevaluate my summary of the doctor.

You see, there is an ambience of sorts that surrounds humans. Not so much an aura, as many so-called psychics would claim, but more a collective of their thoughts and actions and mood. It mostly manifests as a sort of darkness, although not one that anyone can see. It is a feeling, like the warning in your gut that tells you in no implicit terms to stay away, to beware. Most humans are not tuned into this frequency, for they scoff at the idea of a sixth sense, of the supernatural, of something they cannot measure or explain away. The few I have met that are in tune usually don’t have the instincts or training to pick up on the more subtle nuances of The Dusk, those people who hide their true selves so well. I myself am a connoisseur of it, like a wine taster at a banquet. Darkness recognizes darkness, so they say.

Being in a place like this, with so many humans and criminals shrouded lovingly in their dark ambiance, can cause a sort of thickness in the air not very different from a fog. Captivating as it is for a being like me, it often results in a jumble of confusion, as it is difficult to distinguish one Dusk from another.

Perhaps that is why I had not noticed the beautiful, sickening sense misting my doctor until this moment.

It was such a revelation that I could not bring myself to attack Flug as I would have otherwise. Instead, I absorbed the heady gloom like a chain smoker does the first pack of the day. It was a delectable taste as well – the quiet, unassuming kind that churns your stomach for reasons you cannot place, an uneasiness that is questioned and brushed off as paranoia even as it lingers. The sneaky ones are the most enjoyable at times.

And my dear doctor was very sneaky indeed.

Having wasted precious seconds, I reluctantly brought myself back to the physical plane and came so close to Flug that my cheek was nearly touching his bag. I whispered in his ear in the same way two days ago when I had assaulted him. But this was not a threat of the same nature, no. This was a sweet, sweet promise prompted by the wonderful feast he had unknowingly offered to me.

“Oh Flug, you should have told me. Your darkness is delicious.”

“Eeee!!” My doctor squeaked high enough to break glass and jumped at least a meter backwards, like one’s startled pet cat. He fell onto his rear and I laughed, loud and harsh and uninhibited, even as the guard finally did his job and corralled the terror-stricken human out the door in one fell swoop.

They left shortly after, but it did not matter. Our session was nearly over anyway, from what I could guess, and what had originally been a plan to settle curiosity from my overseer and formulate an escape became a wonderful, audacious need to taste more, to consume more of that sly little flavor from a little human Slys.

My dark little doctor.

Y’all thought Flug was the thirsty one but Black Hat has just found an oasis in a desert lol

[incinase]

headcanon 001.

                      this headcanon is going to delve into todoroki’s psychiatric disorders and how they impact him. WARNING: this post will contain very heavy subjects, such as child abuse and its effects, depression, ptsd, and mentions of schizophrenia. also it’s fucking long. you don’t have to read all of it, but the important parts are the bold text and what follows it shortly after.

LONG POST !!!

                                                   c-PTSD

this stands for complex post traumatic stress disorder. “ Complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD; also known as complex trauma disorder) is a psychological disorder thought to occur as a result of repetitive, prolonged trauma involving sustained abuse or abandonment by a caregiver or other interpersonal relationships with an uneven power dynamic. ” thank you, wikipedia. i think this disorder is a bit obvious with todoroki, but i’m gonna get into it anyway.

some of the symptoms todoroki experiences are, but are not limited to, inhibited anger, shame, guilt, a sense of distinction from others, “Distorted Perceptions of the Perpetrator. Examples include attributing total power to the perpetrator, becoming preoccupied with the relationship to the perpetrator, or preoccupied with revenge” (source), isolation, distrust in others, dissociation, memory repression, reliving memories.

there are moments when todoroki becomes consumed with anger, even to the point of no longer being in control of his power, and it all relates back to his father (you know, his abuser). he is quick to feel shame and guilt about things, given that all his life, every “wrong” thing that he’s ever done, he’s been punished for. he’s been told all of these things were his fault and that he should feel guilty for them. he may not express it (which is something i will get into later) but even little things tend to get to him pretty deeply. like, say, he knocks something down by accident. he’ll take a moment and stare at it with a blank expression and process what happened, but he’ll freeze for a moment, unsure of what to do, and become slightly afraid and feel guilt for ruining something. of course, once logic kicks in, few seconds later, he’s able to assess and take care of the situation. 

in regards to his distorted perceptions, i wanna be careful to mention that endeavor was indeed an abuser and it’s not just todoroki’s disorder that is “distorting” this. he WAS abusive, definitely, and him (and a bit of his mother, though he’s repressed the memory with her) are the primary reason todoroki even suffers from this disorder. that said, todoroki is still bitter and begins to fixate on this idea of spite that rises up in him at around 12 years old. this is the age when his anger begins to manifest and when he starts comparing his father to other peoples’ and realizes just how shitty he’s been treated all his life. he becomes resentful, to the point of getting into UA and trying to become the best hero without using his dad’s power solely just to spite him. he disregards all others’ opinions and fixates on his hatred, allowing it to fester and boil and refusing to ever have a proper conversation with his dad, despite how his father may attempt to. if forced into a situation with his father, he stays bitterly silent. 

he begins to isolate himself from others near the beginning of the middle of his primary school experience. i’d say around 6 or 7 years old. out of fear, he never really felt that he could rely on others, and was very shy and unconfident which led him to not develop very many close relationships. he was very close with his older sister, fuyumi, and didn’t mind talking with others, so long as they initiated the conversation. he was quiet and studious, again, out of fear of disappointment and rejection from others. eventually, he became cold and distant -- after years of friendlessness, he becomes to feel bitter toward others, but mostly himself, thinking something is wrong with him and there’s something about him that is uninteresting and unappealing to other people. he begins to accept that he doesn’t need other people, despite his loneliness, and grows used to the idea that he doesn’t need friends to succeed. what with the trouble the idea’s always caused him, he begins to think that having friends would only hinder his goal in competing to be the top hero. 

in regards to dissociation, he often dissociates when reminded of something he’s experienced in the past, or is in fear of experiencing in the future. he dissociated when his mother splashed his face with the boiling water and later repressed the memory, and continues to dissociate during different events to present. there are signs that point to this pre-battle with bakugou and during, as well as in his battle with deku in the sporting events. it is also seen that he has flashbacks and relives his memories as a response to a stimulus to them. this occurs when he is faced with similar situations or if he dwells on the ideas and memories too often, and will often manifest themselves when on his lonesome, or trying to sleep.

                                                Schizophrenia 

" Schizophrenia is characterized by thoughts or experiences that seem out of touch with reality, disorganized speech or behavior, and decreased participation in daily activities. Difficulty with concentration and memory may also be present ” (source). as well as  " a serious mental illness that interferes with a person's ability to think clearly, manage emotions, make decisions and relate to others ” (source). i’d say he developed this in his early teenage years, around 12 or 13. he doesn’t really realize he suffers from this, however, often chalking it up to poor past experiences, stress, irrational thoughts, and general tiredness or confusion. everyone experiences schizophrenia differently, so i want to get into how todoroki experiences his.

before i get into all of his symptoms, i want to mention that some of them can come and go periodically and some of them overlap with the ones mentioned above. since i already explained those ones, i’m not going to get into them again. in order to better understand, i’m going to cross out the ones mentioned next that i’ve already explained.

some of the symptoms he experiences regarding this disorder are, reduced speaking, confused thoughts, hallucinations (not often, however), flat affect (i’ll get into what this means) which goes along with the vacant expression, trouble concentrating, trouble sleeping, irritability, dwelling unreasonably on the past, social withdrawal, problems making and keeping friends, angry outbursts, poor personal grooming, inability to understand certain information and social cues, and reduced feelings of pleasure in day-to-day life. 

reduced speaking is pretty self explanatory, you know, he doesn’t speak much. he doesn’t speak unless he feels that he needs to, and he doesn’t speak unless he’s confident that he can voice his thoughts appropriately. he experiences confused thoughts that become jumbled in his mind somehow, which make it difficult to voice what he’s thinking without saying something he might feel is wrong. he likes to know what he’s going to say before he says it, out of fear of messing it up. he limits himself, for, any expression he’s allowed himself, he was later punished for. he might feel ashamed if he were to speak and falter in his thinking in front of others due to his reserved nature.

he has rare( r ) hallucinations, but only if he’s triggered by an event that bears resemblance of something he’s been through before or is afraid of going through in the future (or again). most of them are visual and auditory. he doesn’t experience any tactile hallucinations or any other sorts. they, 99% of the time, relate to his upbringing, parents, and siblings. during a moment in which he may be experiencing an emotional episode, he will hear his father’s voice once more, telling him degrading things about himself and giving him commands. he doesn’t act on anything that he’s told, but he’ll often hold his head in irritation and shame. they don’t last long, though, and he’s able to calm himself from them decently enough.

flat affect is “ a severe reduction in emotional expressiveness. People with depression and schizophrenia often show flat affect. A person with schizophrenia may not show the signs of normal emotion, perhaps may speak in a monotonous voice, have diminished facial expressions, and appear extremely apathetic ” (source). there’s not much else to be said on the subject of how it affects him... i think this is explanatory enough. i do want to mention, though, that flat affect is a reduction in emotional expressiveness -- todoroki still experiences emotions like any other person would, he’s just unable to express them well. like i mentioned before, vacant expression goes along with this. vacant expression is just as it sounds, like he’s spacing off, his eyes are empty, he’s not looking at anything in particular, and bears no emotional expression on his face. with this, he also has trouble concentrating. he’s able to concentrate well on his studies and when working on his lonesome, but in regards to other people and conversation, he often loses sight of what they are saying to him and can no longer find himself able to concentrate on what they’re saying. he may start to space off halfway through a conversation, or become distracted by something else, or other thoughts he may be having. 

he has trouble sleeping, which ties into a bit of what i mentioned before in regards to his c-ptsd. before he sleeps is when he is alone and lets his thoughts run, and that can often lead to too many thoughts, an inability to relax, or reverting back to instances of his past, his day (whether they be positive or negative), and the replaying of random memories in his mind (sometimes distorted from the way they actually happened). 

he experiences a lot of irritability, but it’s generally subdued beneath his ‘emotionless’ exterior, as well as purposefully held back in an effort to avoid violent confrontation. there are only little things that get on his nerves and annoy him, but it’s generally not anything serious enough to cause an issue over. so, he doesn’t. he had poor personal grooming before entering UA highschool, sometimes being unable to perform regular hygienic duties, i.e. showering, brushing his teeth/hair, etc. instead, he’d only be able to perform the bare minimum. once he entered UA, he felt more motivated to keep himself clean and presentable, despite how hard it may be for him sometimes, some mornings. it’s something his father always drove into his head, which tied into his thoughts when reminding himself that he needed to take care of himself. 

he’s very intelligent and is able to tie certain things to others, thus giving him sound conclusions in battles and regular confrontation with other people, but he often misses out on social cues and understanding of given information. he’s better at deciphering and analyzing situations, but social cues aren’t necessarily one of his fortes, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t always understand. the only thing is that he generally takes things quite literally -- he’s able to discern other people’s emotions and how they are feeling, but in regards to things like slang, metaphors, and sarcasm, he generally doesn’t pick on up on it well. though, that’s not to say he doesn’t understand any of it.

his pleasure in day-to-day activities, as well as a simple enjoyment of life is reduced and sometimes seems quite depleted. he often seems bored or uninterested (which isn’t always the case -- refer back to his flat affect) but he does have a hard time enjoying himself. this ties in a bit with his depression as well, which i didn’t mention in this post because, while it is a major disorder and matters greatly, people generally have a pretty good idea of what all it entails and how its symptoms most often affect individuals. 

[mustafa-el-fats]

in: Featured, Heading Out On Your Own, Money & Career, Networking, Professional Skills

Brett & Kate McKay • August 9, 2012 • Last updated: September 23, 2020

Managing Your Online Reputation

This article series is now available as a professionally formatted, distraction free paperback or ebook to read offline at your leisure.

All the basic life skills we’ve covered so far in this series have been things that your dad, and even your granddad, had to learn when he left home for the first time too.

But today’s young man faces a new challenge that Pops never encountered: managing his online reputation.

Despite the nascent nature of this skill, I truly believe it’s one of the most important things we’ll talk about in this series. As the line between the offline and online world gets increasingly blurry, your online reputation is your reputation. Before you meet your freshman roommate, before you pick up a date, before you shake the hand of a potential employer…you better believe they’ve already Googled you, already formed a first, first impression about you, your interests, and what kind of person you are. Thus, if you’re not careful and conscious about the content you create online, you can end up shooting yourself in the foot in all areas of your life.

Heading Out on Your Own…And Into a Fishbowl World

Leaving for college or another kind of adventure after high school has long been an exciting and heady time. It’s an age where you’re experimenting with ideas and values, testing new freedoms, meeting new people, and often changing your mind about who you are and what you want out of life. One week you feel one way, and the next you feel another. During this process you often make mistakes, and do bone-headed things that twenty years later will still make you wonder, “What was I thinking?”

Just a decade ago, only you, and a few of your closest friends, would have held the memory of those crazy and sometimes cringe-worthy moments. The only record of them could be found by digging up a private photo album or journal.

Today…it’s a whole new ball game.

Now, everything you do and say can potentially become part of your permanent and public record. Everybody’s got a smartphone and can snap a picture of you anywhere, anytime and post it online. And things that go up online about you and from you can remain there forever. Mistakes you made when you were just 19 can haunt you for the rest of your life. Being a young man used to mean you could entirely reinvent yourself by moving to a new place and making new friends, but now your online reputation will follow you wherever you go.

I don’t mean to sound all doom and gloom about it. But that’s the sobering reality of living in the Internet Age, and it doesn’t help to bury one’s head in the sand and try to whatever that reality away. It absolutely doesn’t mean that college can’t still be the fun, spontaneous experience it’s always been; it just means you need to take a conscious, proactive approach to taking responsibility for what parts of that experience end up online and in the public eye.

Why Is Proactively Managing Your Online Reputation So Important?

One of the greatest things about the internet is that it is a giant pot that people can both add to and take from. This puts the most enormous wealth of knowledge in human history right at our fingertips and provides an endless amount of inspiration that can be added onto and “remixed.”

The downside of the big internet pot, is that the moment you put something into the pot, you pretty much lose all control over it. Many viral embarrassments have started out as something someone just wanted to share with a few good friends. But those friends shared it with their friends, who shared it with their friends…on and on until it ended up on Tosh.O.

There are essentially no guaranteed take backs when it comes to what you put online. You can erase your Facebook status, blog post, comment, tweet, or video, but someone else may very well have already shared it, copied it, taken a screenshot of it, or downloaded the video and reposted it somewhere else. How websites looked on a certain date in time are captured and archived on sites like the WayBack Machine (take a look at AoM circa 2008!). Emails that you thought you deleted forever can still sometimes be retrieved, and just because you deleted an email doesn’t mean the person you sent it to didn’t archive it. If someone else wants to post something of yours, you may not be able to get them to take it down without suing.

All of which is to say, pretty every piece of digital content you create can potentially exist forever. And this digital record can be accessed by any of the 250 million internet users in the US, not to mention the 2 billion online all over the world.

What’s on that record can have a big impact on both your personal and professional life.

Your college’s admissions office may have Googled you when they looked over your application. As soon as your freshman roommate knew you’d be bunking with him, he Googled you. When you network with someone at a party and tell them about your great idea, they’ll Google you later. And 81% of singles say they Google or check the Facebook page of someone before meeting him or her for a date.

Even though only 7% of Americans think their online reputation influences hiring decisions, in reality, 75% of US companies have made an online screening a formal part of the hiring process, 85% of recruiters and HR professionals say that having a positive online reputation influences their hiring decisions, and 70% of recruiters say they have rejected candidates based on something they found about them online. And since those numbers come from a study done in 2009, they’re undoubtedly even higher now.

What kinds of online discoveries cause recruiters and HR personnel to push your resume to the trash? This chart shows the most common red flags employers look for:

As you can see, it’s not just content you create that employers are checking out, it’s stuff your friends and colleagues post too. Be careful who you associate with.

Some young folks may be tempted to respond by saying, “Well, if a company is going to reject me for posting pictures of my drunken revelry, I wouldn’t want to work for them anyway.” But that’s pretty short-sighted. I’d venture to say that these companies aren’t rejecting candidates so much because they like to drink or swear, but rather that their willingness to show off these behaviors publicly shows a lack of judgment and wisdom. Not at all an unreasonable assumption.

The information that new friends and potential employers can find about you online may not even be true. Some people will try to verify it, some will not. And what they see will often come without any context – maybe you were being funny, maybe it’s an inside joke, but they won’t know that, they’ll simply make immediate judgments about what they find. This is why when it comes to managing your online reputation, you must be both proactive and defensive — deleting anything inappropriate,  wisely choosing the digital content you create, and purposefully creating positive content about yourself.

Self-Reflect Before You Self-Reveal

“Young people in particular often self-reveal before they self-reflect. There is no eraser button today for youthful indiscretion.” –James Steyer

There are some practical ways to manage your online reputation, and we’ll get to them in a moment. But the first step in taking responsibility for your online presence is creating a mindset for how you want to approach your online life.

Matt Ivester, the author of lol..OMG! (despite the silly-sounding title, this is actually a great book, with solid advice from the guy who learned about online reputation management firsthand from his misadventures in founding Juicycampus.com), suggests three questions to ask yourself before you put something online:

1. Why are you doing this?

Why? This is the most important question of all, and one that unfortunately usually goes unasked and uncontemplated.

Today’s colleges are welcoming the first “digital natives:” they’ve never known a time when the internet wasn’t a huge part of their lives. And even for those who are old enough to have used encyclopedias for elementary-school research papers, interacting and participating online has become so ubiquitous that it’s hard to imagine that life was ever any other way. This is just how things are, and we do what everyone else is doing, so much so that we hardly ever ask why we are doing those things.  Once we do start asking why, the answers are surprisingly hard to come up with and articulate.

Why do you update your status or share a link on Facebook? Do you want to share news? Are you bored? Do you want to be thought clever? Are you trying to make someone else jealous? Do you want to see if people feel the same way as you? Why?

Why do you care how many likes or upvotes something you submit on Facebook or Reddit gets? Is it confirmation that you shared something with value? Why?

Why do you leave comments on blog posts? Do you want the author of the blog to know that you appreciated the article? Do you think you have the insight to add that might help another reader? Do you want the author to know how and why they are wrong? Why? What do you hope to accomplish? Do you think it will change their mind? Is it because the psychological angst you feel when you think someone is wrong needs to be discharged? Why?

Why do you participate in online forums? Does it provide a feeling of camaraderie? Do you like to hear others’ opinions? Why do you respond when you think those opinions are wrong? Why do you care what a stranger thinks about you? Why?

When you ponder the why behind creating any kind of online content, from a status update to a YouTube video, you may come up with a reason that you find satisfactory and worthwhile. Or you may find that your motivation is hard to make sense of and decide it’s not worth your time. Either way, by asking why, you’ll become what Ivester calls “a conscious creator of content.”

2. Is now the right time?

The internet creates a perfect storm for impulse control: at the same time that it actively solicits impulsive communication and make satisfying those impulses incredibly easy, it makes taking back the results of those impulses incredibly difficult; it’s easy to hit “send” or “submit,” and quite hard to un-send and un-submit something.

Facebook asks, “What’s on your mind?” while Twitter wants to know “What’s happening?” They owe their existence to people’s desire to share their thoughts, videos, and photographs – and they need to be constantly fed to survive and grow and make money. And blogs (including ours) want to engage readers and build community and so ask for comments. The internet is set up to encourage you to share whatever thought crosses your mind, and taking that thought from your cranium to the walls and screens of the digital world only takes a few clicks.

But just because you can share your thoughts on impulse doesn’t mean you should. Not only because you probably haven’t thought through the why behind wanting to share first, but because strong impulses are usually born from strong emotions: anger, depression, and grief, or from chemically-altered states (like being drunk). When you spout off and share personal feelings while emotional or trashed, you will likely come to regret it once those strong emotions fade or you sober up.

The best thing to do when you feel you’re dealing with an impulse to put something online that you might regret later, is just to sit on it. The internet creates a false sense of immediacy, giving you an overwhelming feeling that you have to respond now. But what you’ll find is that something that felt super urgent and mega important to say in the moment, will seem totally pointless when you wake up the next morning.

One method I use to thwart impulsive responses is to imagine myself living before the internet. If I feel a burning urge to tell the author of an article what a chucklehead he is, I think of reading a magazine in the 80s, and how I would have had no outlet to express my opinion about it besides writing up a letter to the editor or talking to my wife or close friends about it. Or if something annoys me and I want to rant about it on Facebook, I think of a time before Facebook when I would have had no choice but to keep my rant to myself. It makes me realize that just as sharing whatever crosses your mind wasn’t necessary then, it’s not necessary now. The fine-folks of the 80s, while they made some questionable fashion-choices, weren’t any less happy than we are now that we’re able to shout what we’re feeling and thinking to everyone 24/7.

3. How controversial do you want to be?

The younger generation  (including those my age) was raised with a lot of rhetoric about how special and unique they are, how important it is to be “authentic,” and that it’s good to be “transparent.” This can lead folks to throw caution to wind about what they share online because, “I’m just trying to be me! And if other people don’t like it, they can bite me!”

But just because you can now display your opinions and personality to a greater number of people than ever before, doesn’t mean you should, or that the more you share, the more authentic you are. Going back to my suggestion of thinking about life before the internet, people used to only be able to share their quirks with a close circle of family and friends, and they weren’t any less themselves than we are (actually they were probably more themselves since they didn’t get instant feedback on all of their quirks).

Examining the meaning of authenticity isn’t within the purview of this post (although it will be a future series), but suffice it to say for now that the ideal for many of the great men of the past was not transparency, but sprezzatura – only revealing themselves to others slowly as a relationship of trust developed. You may want to “be yourself” by trumpeting your religious, social, and political beliefs online every chance you get, but if those meme’s you keep flooding Facebook with is the only thing new acquaintances know about you, they may decide they don’t want to get to know you before they even do — they’ll miss the complexity of your character that would have shown through over time…that you’re both a liberal and a rabid gun owner, or a fervent Christian and a scientist, or a zealous vegetarian and a Marine.

The three questions above can go a long way to helping you judiciously choose what and what not to post online. A final question to consider is what the general public might think of the content if for some reason what you post went viral or you were suddenly thrust into national prominence. Would it embarrass your family? What impression would a stranger have of it? You and your friends might think it’s funny, but would others find it offensive? You never know who’s going to see your post, what’s going to be dug up on you later, and who might be looking at your phone.

How to Manage Your Online Reputation

Managing your online reputation involves both deleting content you don’t want out there and creating content you do. Follow the steps below that Ivester and others have suggested, and complete each step right after you read it. This is the kind of thing that’s easy to put off indefinitely. Do it now.

1. Google yourself.

Before you can know what actions to take to manage your online reputation, you need to know what’s already out there. To do this, first deactivate Google’s customized search – when you typically do a Google search, the results Google brings up are based on things like your location, what you’ve clicked on before, and things your friends like. But you want to see what would come up if someone else searched for you. Here’s how to take off the customized search feature.

If you have a common name like “Rob Smith,” then search for your name with a qualifier like, “Rob Smith St. Louis,” or “Rob Smith Tulane University.”

After you look at Google’s results for you, check out other search engines like Bing and Yahoo as well.

When you look at the results that come up for your name, try to imagine what conclusions someone might reach about you if they had no other context for that content, and knew nothing else about you.

2. Try to remove content that you don’t want showing up in search results anymore.

After you do a search for yourself, it’s time to try to delete things that showed up that you’d rather not have out there anymore. Maybe you signed up for an internet forum with your real name. Maybe you left a comment on a blog post under your real name. Maybe you wrote a review or a blog post that you now feel is too controversial. Some of these things you can delete yourself.

If you can’t delete something yourself, like a blog post comment on another person’s blog, then try to contact the owner of the site to see if they will remove it for you. They may or may not, but the nicer you are about it, the greater the chance of them helping you, so make your request as civil and appreciative as possible.

If you can’t find the contact information for the site owner, try the site WHOis. Website registrars are required to publish the contact information for the person who registered the domain. Oftentimes when you look up a site on WHOis, you’ll find that the owner has decided to keep their direct contact information private and have instead given a proxy email address. Either way, your email will end up in the same place.

Understand that even if you’re successful at removing the offending content from a site, it may take a few days or even weeks before it’s reflected in search engine results. Also, understand that the offending item really hasn’t “gone away.” There’s a chance that it has been archived on the WayBack Machine. Remember, what’s put on the internet stays on the internet forever.

Moving forward, be extremely judicious when using your real name online.

3. Proactively create a positive first impression online.

Your best bet in managing your online reputation is proactively creating positive content about yourself that pushes the bad stuff off of the first few pages of search engines. Set up accounts with large social networking sites that typically rank high on Google and other search engines. Twitter, LinkedIn, Facebook, and Google+ profiles are often on the first page when you look up someone’s name. Set up accounts with them and post stuff that you’d be proud to have your name associated with.

The best thing you can do to ensure positive stuff associated with your name is at the top of search results is to start a blog and update it regularly. If you can, try to secure a domain name with your given name for your blog. What should you write about on your blog? You can publish your resume (redacting phone numbers and addresses, of course), write posts sharing insights in an expertise you might have, or use it to create a portfolio of your work if you’re a freelancer. Whatever it is, make sure it’s stuff you want associated with your name.

Cross-link your blog and all your social networking profiles together: put your link to Facebook and Twitter on your blog, a link to your LinkedIn profile and blog on your Facebook account, and so on.

Even if you don’t plan on using Twitter or Google+ or even putting anything on your blog, it doesn’t hurt to have your name registered with those accounts and domain. You don’t want some Joe Schmo mucking up your good name with a bunch of crazy online antics.

4. Adjust privacy settings on Facebook and clean up your Facebook Profile.

To ensure that potential employers or love interests only see the best of you when they look you up on Facebook, make the following adjustments:

First, take a look at how your profile page looks to the public. If you see any information visible that you don’t want strangers to see, make a note of it.

To change what’s visible on your profile page, click “About.”

Click “Edit” on the next page.  On each segment select “Friends” if you don’t want anybody who’s not your FB friend to see a particular piece of information. For networking reasons, I’ve left my job and school information visible to the public.

Visit the Facebook Privacy Settings page and adjust all your privacy settings so only your friends can see photos and status updates you make.

On the privacy settings page, update what your friends can share about you under “Timeline and Tagging.” Enable the ability to review and approve posts or photos that you are tagged in before they’re published on your Timeline. You can also disable Facebook’s tag suggestion when your friends upload photos that look like you. You don’t want your name tagged in an unflattering photo or post.

While you’re on the privacy settings page, limit who can see posts from the past. Even if you used to post everything publicly, this will retroactively make those posts private.

Review the photos that you’re tagged in and untag yourself from any unflattering photos. While you’re at it, you might ask your friend to remove the photo if it’s something you don’t want out there. Even if you’re not tagged in the pic, it could come back to haunt you.

Leave groups and unlike pages that may be seen as controversial…or just dumb. At least set the privacy settings on them so only your FB friends can see the pages you like.  how.

5. Be more conscious of what you share and whom you share it with on Facebook.

Ask the three questions we covered above before posting something on Facebook. That will save you a lot of grief.

Also, take into account if what you’re about to share is appropriate and relevant to ALL your Facebook friends. You don’t need to share your weekend plans with your old boss and former professors. In real life, you adjust what you talk about depending on your company — do the same on Facebook. Create lists on Facebook for close family/friends, acquaintances, professional colleagues, people that are the same religion as you, people you enjoy talking politics with, etc. Before posting something, ask yourself if this is something all your friends would be interested in or is better for a specific list of your friends. And even if you’re only posting for a list of close friends, still keep in mind what others would think if that status or photo got shared with people outside the list. It could happen.

6. Create strong passwords for your accounts.

If the recent story of tech writer Mat Honan’s online life being completely demolished by hackers doesn’t motivate you to strengthen your online security, then I don’t know what will. Create strong passwords for all your accounts and change them every six months. A strong password is at least 8 characters long and includes at least one special character (&!#) and both upper and lower case letters. Your passwords shouldn’t be the same for all your accounts. To manage all your passwords, use an app like LastPass.

To reduce the chance of getting hacked, enable two step authentication. Here’s how to do it on Google (if you use Gmail) and Facebook.

7. Use passwords on your laptop and mobile devices. 

An unattended laptop or mobile device provides a devilish opportunity for friends or random strangers to mess with your online life. I know several people who had to do a lot of scrambling to recover from an offensive tweet sent from an unattended iPhone by a mischievous friend. Avoid that. Enable password protection on all your mobile devices.

8. Set up a Google Alert for your name. 

Keep your finger on the pulse of what’s said about you on the web by setting up a Google Alert for yor name.  Just enter your name as a search query and Google Alert will email you a digest once a week (or daily if you want) of all the new content that’s hit the web with your name in it.

Conclusion

The internet is an amazing educational, social, and networking tool — you just need to use it wisely. Using it too little can be just as damaging to your personal and professional life as using it too much. Be a “conscious content creator” and use sound wisdom and judgement in deciding where you personally want to draw the line between your public and private life.

Any other tips on managing your online reputation? Share them with us in the comments (only after asking yourself why you’re commenting and making sure it’s the right time, of course)!

 

Related Articles

Going Undercover: How to Protect Your Privacy Online

Being a Gentleman in the Age of the Internet: 6 Ways to Bring Civility Online

Escape the Algorithm!

3 Ways You Should Never Start an Online Comment

16 Ways to Support the Art of Manliness in 2016

How to Support and Follow the Art of Manliness

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