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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

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What Have I Done? - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Physical injuries, cursing

Summary: An argument gone out of hand. Y/N just wanted Katsuki to be home more. They’re married and yet she barely sees him throughout the week. When she finally speaks on her hurt feelings, she gets a reaction she definitely wasn’t expecting.

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

A/N:.....I cried while writing this.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

‘He’s gone already. Again. Like always.’

Y/N had awoken to another empty bed. Her husband’s side of the mattress remained cold and empty. This wasn’t anything new. It’s been like this for the past few months. She would wake up alone, eat breakfast alone, spend her day alone, eat dinner alone, and go back to sleep at the end of the day...alone.

It’s not that Katsuki is intentionally ignoring Y/N. He loves her with his everything, he truly does! But villains never rest and neither does he. He’s so preoccupied with hero work that when he does get a day off, his friends drag him away to a bar or game night. Y/N always ran through his head but she had always been so understanding. And besides, she knows how busy the life of a pro is. She used to be one so she gets it. Right?

Wrong. She doesn’t get it. Because even when she was a pro, her and Katsuki always found time for each other. And ever since said man made her quit, claiming he could take care of both of them easily and he would feel better knowing his beloved is safe at home, they’ve seen each other less and less. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Y/N was willing to quit her dream because she found a new dream in Katsuki. She always imagined that being his little housewife would give them more time together but the opposite of that came true. Now she sits in the big empty house with no company for hours on end.

Her sadness builds up every day. She misses her husband. She tries to be an understanding wife but at this point, it’s like he’s not even trying to make an effort to see her. It’s like he’s settled to just coming home to her sleeping form and waking up to her in the exact same state, leaving before he can witness her do anything else. He should understand her though, no? I mean, she had brought it up to him in a very casual way and so he never took it seriously, but she’s mentioned it before. He should have a pretty vivid image of how shes been feeling. Right?

After 6 months of loneliness and being ‘Katsuki-deprived,’ Y/N made her move to speak to her husband about her feelings. She already imagined the outcome. An argument due to Katsuki’s brash behavior and her ‘never back down’ attitude, sad times bringing in the silent treatment for the two of you up until the both of you give in and forgive each other due to the love you have. Finally ending in a compromise. Y/N released a heavy breath as she looked at the time.

1:36 a.m. Just a few more minutes until Katsuki’s home.

—

He was pissed. 3 large scale bank robberies, 10 villain-wannabe fights, an argument with his publicist about his ‘out of line attitude,’ and Deku replacing him on a random ass billboard. The last detail wouldn’t have mattered if it was anybody else but the fact that it was Deku had him riled up. He just wanted to go home to a quiet house with his beautiful wife and admire her gorgeous, slumbering state. However that was not what he was greeted with.

Katsuki grumbled as he unlocked the front door and walked in. He noticed the lights were still on and saw Y/N still awake, seated on the couch. On any other day, he’d be elated to see his wife was still up. They’d talk and cuddle and go to sleep together. If he was lucky, they’d both make love until the sun rose. But tonight, that wouldn’t be happening. He wanted a quiet house with his sleeping wife. Not..whatever was about to happen. He sighed as he dropped his bag at the front door and sloppily placed his keys in the glass bowl near the door.

“What’re you doing up dumbass?” He asked as he walked to the kitchen, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He needed a drink.

“I was waiting for you, Katsuki. I just wanted to talk to you about something,” you said in a soft voice, hoping it would suppress his for sure incoming anger. Katsuki closed the fridge with a kick to the heavy door and chugged down a quarter of his drink.

“I’m not in the mood. Had a shitty day and I wanna sleep. Just go to bed.” He said sternly while trying to finish his beer as fast as he could.

“Don’t you think I would’ve done that hours ago? I wouldn’t have stayed up and waited for you if this wasn’t important. Please Katsuki, I really wanna talk.” Bakugou was beginning to grow annoyed. Why wouldn’t you just drop it already? He squeezed his bottle hard enough for it too crack before he spoke with a louder voice.

“Y/N! You’re not listening! I’m tired. I had a horrible day and I just want to sleep. I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to stay up anymore, and I don’t want to listen to whatever bullshit you’re about to complain and bitch about like you always do!” He screamed. His words made your jaw drop.

“Not listening?! That’s all I do! All I do is listen to your every command so that you come home happy-“

“Well it looks like you failed today!” He said, cutting you off.

“Quit interrupting! And what was it that you said?! All I do is bitch and complain?! I’m trying to talk to you about something serious here Katsuki!” You pleaded, still hoping he would give in and listen. And he did...just not in the way you’d expect.

“Fine then! If this’ll get you to quit being an annoying ass waste of time, then speak! Talk! What the hell do you want?!” He asked, screaming at you, furious at all the dramatics you’ve brought up in one night.

His words kind of stung. ‘Annoying ass? Waste of time? Is this what he thinks I am?’ You grew silent at his insults and Katsuki seethed even more.

“Oh what? I scream at you and you bitch up? Toughen up Y/N, jeez. Quit acting like a baby! Tell me what you wanted to say!” He yelled.

“.......I just....I just wanted you to spend some time with me. .....Be home more.” You said in a quiet and broken voice. You looked down to the now very interesting floor as you played with your hands.

“Seriously? This shit again? I’m a pro-hero, Y/N! I’m busy! I’m not gonna drop saving lives just because your brat ass wants someone to notice you! Since when were you such an attention whore?” He asked while rolling his neck to relieve his strained muscles. Your eyes widen at the ground due to his words and your head snapped back up to face him.

“A-attention whore? I-...I just want my husband to stop working so much. I don’t know..maybe have a day off or two!” She said with a crinkled nose as you screamed.

“I do have days off, Moron. It’s why I’m not overworked, ever thought about that?!” He screamed back.

“And you spend those days off away from me! I’m not trying to act like the world revolves around me but I would hope my own husband would spend a day with me instead of his friends that he ALWAYS sees because you ALL WORK TOGETHER!” You argued. You made a valid point and even Katsuki knew that, but he was too stubborn to admit defeat. He was still tired but he had enough energy to put you back in your place. His eyes popped as a vein grew on his neck.

“Well- WELL YOU’RE ONCE AGAIN JUST BITCHING AND COMPLAINING LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO! I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’RE SO UPSET!” He screamed.

“Don’t understand?! You know what? I know you don’t because you never listen to-“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, I WASNT DONE TALKING! ALL YOU DO IS SIT AROUND THE HOUSE, LAZING AROUND, DOING NOTHING BUT TRY TO ARGUE WITH-“

“LAZING AROUND?!” You shouted in disbelief. “WHO MAKES YOUR MEAL PREP THE NIGHT BEFORE SO YOU CAN ENJOY IT AT WORK AND IN THE MORNING? WHO CLEANS THE ENTIRE HOUSE EVERYDAY WHILE YOU’RE GONE? WHO MAKES SURE YOU HAVE A FULL FRIDGE, CLEAN HOUSE, GOOD FOOD, AND A HAPPY LIFE? ME KATSUKI! ME!”

“Happy life? DO I LOOK HAPPY TO YOU BITCH?! NEWSFLASH, IM NOT! SO CONGRATS Y/N! YOU FAILED ONCE AGAIN! AND WHO GIVES A FUCK IF YOU PLAY MAID WHILE IM AWAY?! IM BUSY SAVING THE FUCKING WORLD! THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS BE A GOOD WIFE SINCE YOU CANT EVEN BE A FUCKING PRO ANYMORE!” He insulted again.

“because of FUCKING YOU!” You argued once more.

“I DID IT FOR YOU!” He said while throwing his bottle to the wall, causing it to shatter. “I DO EVERYTHING FOR YOUR UNGRATEFUL BITCH ASS! I PAY THE BILLS! I BRING HOME THE CASH! I GIVE YOU THE MONEY TO BUY ALL THE FUCKING FOOD, CLOTHES, AND ANY OTHER STUPID SHIT YOU WANT! AND ON TOP OF THAT, I STUFF YOUR STUPID CUNT TO PLEASURE YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS. AT THIS POINT, YOU’RE JUST A WALKING HOLE FOR ME TO USE!”

His words hurt. They broke your heart. Did he really feel this way? If so, why was he even with you anymore. You notice a smirk grow on his face at your bewildered state. He looked as if he just won something. However, the smirk dropped into a scowl once he saw your eyes begin to pool with tears.

“Oh great! Cry! Go ahead! Just shed your fucking tears like you always do! I’m going to bed! Come join me when you’re done being an annoying bitch.” He said and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he began to walk away. You didn’t want the conversation to go this way and there was no conclusion. You needed this to be resolved now. You just wanted your husband back. You reached out to stop him from walking but the unforeseen happened.

“Katsuki..don’t walk away from thi-“

“DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME!” He said and smacked your arms away with a burning palm. Without realizing, Katsuki began to spark his quirk and so when he went in to push you away, he burned your forearm.

A loud blast and smoke filled the room and your screams of pain invaded his ears. The sound made a shocked face grow on him as he quickly turned to see the damaged he had caused. His heart sank as he saw you crying while holding your burnt arm with your other hand. You were slightly hunched over in pain as you took notice of the damage that had been caused. That he caused.

“Y/N!” Bakugou softly shouted as he ran to you. He wanted to help but before he could even lay a finger on you, you flinched. The action caused him to hesitate and hold himself back. He ran to the kitchen sink to get a cold rag and he brought it back to you. “Baby! I am so sor-“

You pushed him away and off of you as you quickly walked to your bedroom with a shadow casted over your eyes. Tears still flowed down your cheeks as sniffles could be heard from your cherry red nose. Katsuki couldn’t believe what he just did and ran to follow you.

“Y/N! Please listen! I didn’t mean it! I don’t know how that happened Teddy Bear but I swear I didn’t mean it! I swear I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I said! I’m sor-“

*SLAM* *click!*

Katsuki realized he followed you out the kitchen, through the living room, up the stairs, and to the entrance of the master bedroom you both shared before you slammed the door and locked it right in his face.

“Baby! Please open the door!” He said while knocking in a very rushed manner. He wanted nothing more than to help you and treat the damage he caused to his beloved wife. He had royally fucked up. He began turning and jiggling the locked knob in an attempt to get it open but failed. “Please Y/N! I have to take care of you and that burn. I’m so sorry but please let me in!”

On the other side of the door, you pressed your back against it as you held in your sobs and slid to the bottom. You pulled both lips in to conceal your voice while you held your wrist to examine the burn on your arm. It was so bad. Your skin turned an angry shade of red as it blistered and bled. You were dripping blood all over your carpeted floor and so you ran to the master bathroom in the bed room.

You turned on the sink and placed your forearm under the cold, running water. The water soothed it a bit but it wasn’t enough to cover the pain. You turned off the sink and grabbed a hand rag as you patted down on your wound. You took out the first aid kit and cared for yourself. You had to take the alcohol to clean it and sucked in a breath before you poured the solution over the burn. You screamed as it seemed to have hurt 10x more. After dabbing cotton over it, you wrapped it in bandages and took a breath of relief.

‘What just happened?’ You thought to yourself.

The entire time, Katsuki was still begging for you to open up. He heard your scream and grew frantic. He banged on the door and cried for you, still hoping, praying, that you would let him in. When nothing happened, he resorted back to calling out for you but to no avail.

About an hour went by and it was almost 4 in the morning. You sat on the bed with your arms holding your knees to your chest. You stared at the wrap as the memories of what went down tonight flashed through your brain.

‘Waste of time...brat ass...attention whore...ungrateful...annoying bitch.’

His words struck you right in your heart. Cruel thoughts began to fill your head.

‘He doesn’t love me. He hates me. I’m worthless.’ Your thoughts would’ve continued until a quiet knock snapped you out of you mind.

“....Y/N?...Baby?” It was Katsuki of course, but a softer version of him. A broken one. “..I don’t know if you’re listening or if you’re awake..but I need you to know that I’m so so sorry.” It was easy to hear his muffled and staggered voice that exposed his tears and sobs. “If I could turn back time right now, I would do tonight all over again, I swear. I would’ve came home and listened to you. And we could’ve talked things out. We would’ve came out of this problem being a stronger couple than we were before...because that’s what we always do. We always make it out of the dark together..because we’re a team..and I need you. .....Please...please don’t leave me Y/N. I love you so much. ‘M so sorry that I hurt you..that I burned you..that I’m such a terrible husband. But I promise you I’ll fix everything in the morning...................Teddy Bear?”

He didn’t know it, but you were listening. You heard every word but refrained from speaking. You knew that the second you did, you’d break down and go crawling back to him....but you didn’t want to do that. You wanted to leave. He physically burned you and you wanted to leave. You were going to sleep for a few hours, and when you would awaken, you would pack a bag and leave. And so, you began your plan and tried to get some sleep as tear streaks marked your face. It would all be over soon.

You woke up to the morning sun.

6:50 a.m.

You rose out of bed and rubbed at your puffy eyes. You quietly got ready in the bathroom and applied the slightest bit of makeup to look more presentable. You took out a pair of shoes and tossed them to the center of the room. You were in your closet and pulled out a bag. You stuffed it full of a few clothes for you to wear, you couldn’t stay here. Not after what he did. You fought through the pain as you pulled on your jacket and placed your shoes on. You wiped your tears as you picked up your purse and got ready to leave. You were going to stay in a hotel. Didnt matter where or how expensive. You just needed to get away.

Finally, you walked to the exit of the bedroom. You took a breath before you slowly turned the knob and was greeted with the sight of a sleeping Bakugou. He had slept in the hallway in front of the bedroom, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. His knees were scrunched up with his arms resting there to be used as a pillow. He layed his head atop of his arms and as you looked down into his hands, you saw the rag. The exact rag from the argument. The rag that he attempted to use to help you. Little did you know, Bakugou hadn’t planned on getting rid of it until you let him use it to help you. He wanted nothing more than to fix his mistake and cater to you and your wound.

You shook your head as you felt tears began to fill your eyes but you refused to let them fall. You took a step and sadly awoken the exact man you were trying to avoid. Bakugou had quickly woken up when he heard the slightest noise and was blessed with the beauty that is you. He looked up at you with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Y/N...” was what he whispered before he quickly got up to run to you.

“Y/N!” He ecstatically said with a hint of relief. He was about to wrap him arms around you but you kept a hand at his chest to keep him at bay. “Baby?...”

Bakugou looked at you with hurt and confused eyes when you didn’t welcome his embrace. Even when you were mad at him, you still allowed him to hold you so what gives? He looked at you and your attire. He noticed your jacket and shoes and saw you holding a bag. “W-what are you doing?”

You walked away from him but he snatched your wrist to make you turn to face him. “Y/N! What’s going on?!” He frantically asked with crazed eyes. You snatched your wrist back and ran down the stairs and he copied your actions. He followed you into the living room until he grabbed your wrist once more. You tried to pull away again but found it harder because this time, he gripped it tight.

“W-where are you going baby?”

“Dont call me that.”

“What? Why? Baby, please tell me what’s going on.” He begged as he squeezed your wrist.

“What’s going on? Are you serious? What does it look like? I’m leaving!” Bakugou’s eyes went wide once more and shook his head.

“N-no! No, why!?”

“Why?! Look at my arm!” You screamed.

“I know! I know and I’m so sorry! But..but you don’t have to go! I can fix you up, I’ll take you to recovery girl, I will bring you to the best hospitals around the world to fix that for you! Just please don’t go!” He bargained and offered everything but you weren’t budging.

“It’s not just the burn Bakugou.” You deadpanned with a nonchalant face. His heart felt heavy after hearing your voice refer to him with his family name.

“..I-it’s Katsuki! Your Katsuki! It’s Suki, baby please!” Bakugou stepped closer as he cried once more but you backed away again. His hold on your wrist still strong as his fingers played with the ring on your hand, trying to calm himself down and remind himself that you are still his wife.

You shook your head at his pleading. “Bakugou. You burned me. But not only that, you’ve neglected me for months.”

“I know that! And I’m sorry! I will spend just as much time off of work to make it up to you, I swear I will, I promise!” He once again bargained.

“It’s too late.”

“No it’s not, please, it can’t be!”

“It is Bakugou-“

“KATSUKI! ....please...please don’t call me that. I’m your Katsuki,” he said with a whimpering voice. At this point you felt the tears come through, but you still didn’t allow them to fall.

“Katsuki...I can’t stay here. Too much damage has been done.” You said with a soft voice. Bakugou continued to shake his head ‘no,’ but you already made up your mind. You used your wind quirk in your hand and blew his grip off your wrist. You took the quick opportunity to walk to the door but Bakugou grabbed your bag off your shoulder in a childish panic and attempt to get you to stay.

“Hey!-“

“Please Y-Y/N! Please don’t leave me! I- I know I’ve been a terrible husband! I’m sorry! B-But I promise I’ll do better. I’ll stay at home more, I’ll spend more time with you, Please!”

“Katsu-“

“I’ll buy you whatever you want! I’ll get you all the expensive brands, I’ll find you all the best jewelry, I’ll give you all the money in the world! I’ll give you the whole world! Please stay! I love you so much Y/N!”

“Katsuki, give me back my bag,” you tried to reach for it but Bakugou kept it away from you and pulled you in with one arm and held you in a tight embrace as he cried on your shoulder.

“Please...you can’t do this to me. I need you. I love you! I’ll do better! I’ll be a better husband, I swear..just please don’t go.” He softly spoke with a broken voice and soft hiccups. It was wrong for you to do this, but you sighed and pretended to forgive him as you wrapped your arms around his torso. You hugged him tight and he fell for it as he openly sobbed now. His other arm that held your bag came to wrap around your waist but before it could, you snatched the bag out of his hold and pushed him away. You ran to the door and held a tight grip on the knob as you picked up your car keys. You saw Katsuki attempt to run back to you but you created a strong barrier of wind to protect you. “IM SORRY Y/N! PLEASE DONT!”

You took off your ring and tossed it to him through the barrier. He was quick to catch it and hold it right in fear of losing it. He had to find a way to get it back on your finger. “No..baby...Teddy Bear please!”

“....I’ll send you the divorce papers....Goodbye Katsuki.”

With that, you walked out of the door, still keeping the barrier alive. Once you started the car, you dispersed of the wind and Bakugou opened the door and ran to your car.

“Y/N wait! Please!” He cried out but he was too late. You pulled out of the driveway and drove off quickly down the street. He watched your car go as he began hyperventilating and tugging at his ash blonde locks. He ran back inside the house with your ring in hand as he looked for his phone. He found it on the kitchen island and quickly dialed your number. Of course, it went straight to voicemail but that didn’t stop him from calling about 50x more.

“This-...this has to be some stupid dream. A fucking nightmare...” he said as he tried to hide in denial. “Yeah...a nightmare. This is what it is...I’ll..I’ll wake up soon and she’ll be by my side in the morning...sleeping peacefully...and I’ll take the whole week off and spend it with her. She won’t be mad, we’ll be happy like we always are. S-She won’t leave me.”

Bakugou had an insane smile on his face with eyes of distraught on him. He clumsily made his way back to his bedroom where he flopped onto the large mattress and tried to get some sleep. He would sleep the whole day away if it meant you’d still be by his side when he woke up. The ring you abandoned was held tight in the palm of his hand as he held it close to his chest. His sobs overcame him but did aid in his journey to slumber. Eventually, he knocked out and a smile of bliss adorned his face as he assumed you would still be there in the morning.....oh how wrong he was.

The very next day, he woke up at 5:30 like he always did and quickly looked to your side of the bed. It was cold and empty. He was lonely. The exact same feeling you got everytime you woke up without seeing him for the past 6 months.

6 months. You’ve been married for 4 years and together for 8. Out of those 8 years, Bakugou spent 6 months neglecting you..and now...he lost you.

He stared at the empty space and bawled his eyes out like a baby as he screamed. He got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Maybe you were cooking breakfast! You weren’t. Kitchen was empty. He ran to the living room! Maybe you were just watching some TV and reading a book, looking all cute and domesticated like you usually did. No, you weren’t there either. Bakugou checked every room in the house and when he couldn’t find you..he snapped.

His heart beated at a rapid pace as he trashed the entire house. Breaking windows, flipping desks, smashing furniture. He used his quirk to create blasts and burn marks into the walls and floors of the house. He did everything to get his frustrations out. The entire time he shouted and cried as rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks.

When he was done, he sat in the middle of the destroyed living room, laying his back against the flipped couch. He sat with his knees scrunched up as he hunched over, staring at the ground. His nose and eyes and basically his entire face grew puffy and red. His hair was a mess and so was he. Silent tears continued to drop, but his throat was too dry and hurt far too much for him to make anymore noise. However, he did fight through the pain to say one final thing:

“What have I done?”

A/N: hi cubsss! So a lot of you may know that my very first post, writing piece, and short story (He’s Lost) was created around angst, a breakup, and the fact that the triggering point was Bakugou physically hurting Y/N. I’ve been thinking about it and I HATE MY WRITING IN THE FIRST POST! It was terrible! Why tf did y’all like it so much?😭 And so, I’ve created a new piece revolving around the same elements, sorta as a way to check my progress. I hope you enjoyed!

ALSO!!! If you guys like this enough, I’m willing to turn it into a small yandere short story if you Cubs are down for that. Let me know and I’ll make it happen! Love you Cubs! See you next time🧸💗

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beewolfwrites · 3 years

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And When I am Formulated - Reference List (for those who wanted one)

I know some of you liked the idea of this when I suggested it, so I've collected all the literature references from AWIAF.

I’ve also tried to include some of the reasons why they were used, you know... just in case you were wondering what’s up with the weird chapter titles :)

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

Chapter 1 + 6: ‘The diving board’

- This is from the short story, Forever Overhead, by David Foster Wallace.

- I recommend reading it, simply because of how strange and alienating it is. However, I don’t recommend it if you’re currently experiencing depression or suicidal thoughts, simply because there’s an undercurrent there.

- It’s mainly about societal systems and feeling constrained by the pointless processes that make up modern society. I figured the MC felt this way long before she got to the Borderlands.

Chapter 1: ‘John Steinbeck’s characters’.

- They always play rummy in Of Mice and Men for some reason.

Chapter 4 + 22: ‘The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase...’, ‘until human voices wake us’, ‘forcing the moment to its crisis.’

- These are all from The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot.

- Although I have very, very mixed feelings about Eliot for a number of reasons, this poem pretty much helped summarise the story.

- Chishiya pretty much had her ‘formulated’ from the very beginning, having already fixed her position in his plans. However, the only thing he didn’t have formulated was his own feelings.

- Of course, the actual poem is about a proposal, which is why I couldn’t give you this list before :D

Chapter 4: Utopia by Thomas More.

- I mean, this pretty much explains itself haha.

Chapter 7 : ‘A Single Green Light’

- This is from The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald.

- Just like the green light on Daisy’s dock is a source of comfort to Gatsby, Kuina and Chishiya become a green light to the MC as they find her comfortable clothes and come to her aid in the militant situation, respectively.

Chapter 8: ‘Mad to Live, Mad to Talk’

- The Road by Jack Kerouac.

- This line features in a famous quote that was too long to include as a title: “the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars”.

- I thought this would represent how frenzied the beach is.

- Everyone lives each day to the fullest, but it’s transient as they’re killed off every night.

Chapter 10: ‘A Train Whistle’

- From Concerning the Sound of a Train Whistle in the Night by Haruki Murakami.

- This is such a beautifully written short story. It’s so simple, yet it explains love so well.

- The MC pretty much explained this one, but as I’m sure you all know, she ends up becoming the train whistle he needs to cut through the emptiness.

Chapter 11 + the underlined quote: ‘Without a Soul’, ‘I’m tired of being enclosed here...’

- Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte.

- Chishiya rejects the idea of being tied to someone, despite his instincts telling him the opposite.

- It’s an argument of rationality vs imagination both on a ‘souls exist/don’t exist’ scale and ‘I love her/I don’t need her’.

- It was so, so tempting to have that mystery underlined quote be something romantic, but instead it felt more real to have it be something that reflects how far the MC has come.

Chapter 11: ‘In books, I could go anywhere I wanted. I could be someone else. I wasn’t alone.’

- This was actually inspired by Matilda, by Roald Dahl.

- Particularly this line: “So Matilda’s strong young mind continued to grow, nurtured by the voices of all those authors who had sent their books out into the world like ships on the sea. These books gave Matilda a hopeful and comforting message: You are not alone”.

- That line has always made me cry.

Chapter 12: The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka

- It’s widely believed that Gregor Samsa’s father, who abuses him after he has turned into a cockroach.

- I figured it could also reflect the MC’s father, as she’s spends the next day after the argument and Niragi’s attack focused on this book and plagued by it.

- If books are usually her safe space, it has now been contaminated.

Chapter 14: ‘Half-Sick of Shadows’

- The Lady of Shalott by Alfred Tennyson.

- For those who haven’t read this beautiful poem yet, the Lady of Shalott is bound to her tower by a curse that will come into action if she ever looks out of the window. So, she uses a mirror to look out instead, but this only makes her unhappy as she watches others’ reaching happiness while she can only experience it through reflections.

- Like the Lady of Shallot, the MC decides to take her life into her own hands, instead of letting her family hold her back.

Chapter 15: ‘Love and Squalor’

- To Esme, with Love and Squalor, by J.D. Salinger.

- In this whole chapter, the MC and Chishiya alternate between love and distrust. They’re somewhere in-between at this point in their relationship.

Chapter 18 + 19: ‘Do Not Go Gentle’

- As you probably already know, this is Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas.

- This was included via a request, but it works perfectly for the Borderlands since everyone’s fighting death every single game, and they’re willing to do whatever it takes to survive.

- It can also refers to their plan, and the idea that Chishiya and Kuina will go to extremes (like setting up Arisu) in order to escape the beach.

Chapter 19: ‘I May Think of You Softly’

- The Crucible by Arthur Miller.

- Although The Crucible has nothing in common with this fic, this quote itself summarises the MC’s feelings the best: “I may think of you softly from time to time. But I will cut off my hand before I’ll ever reach for you again”.

- Even though she can’t stop loving him, she refuses to give in to his influence.

Chapter 20 + 21: ‘Sound and Fury’

- Macbeth by Shakespeare.

- The full quote in Chapter 20 is from the famous “tomorrow and tomorrow” speech.

- Life is simply excessive noise shouted by an idiot, but ultimately is pointless. The ‘idiot’ can be herself, for loving Chishiya; Niragi, for his relentless pursuit at getting back at Chishiya; or even the players themselves for trying so hard to survive.

- Long story short, everything seems pointless since they’ll all probably die anyway.

Chapter 21: ‘Tread Softly’

- From He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven by Yeats.

- In essence, she’s begging Chishiya to stop wiping his feet all over her dreams, lol.

Chapter 24: ‘And the Rest is Silence’

- This is from Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and are also Hamlet’s last words.

- Of course, it refers to death. It’s the last chapter, after all.

- However, it’s just the death of the first stage, and the next one won’t be so silent :)

#alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro

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notcatherinemorland · 4 years

Text

More Hamlet Thoughts because i leave everything to the 11th hour . production continues to be the 2018 globe w/ Michelle Terry

Hamlet and Ophelia’s uhhhhh fight

Ham’s personality twists into cruel mockery of her at the line ‘Where’s your father’ and OHO the facial expressions

Ophelia kept trying to hold onto Hamlet’s hand and body and curl her fingers around hamlet’s hand and it was very heartbreaking . Hamlet was a ball of chaotic energy who scrabbled her hands off himself. rlly interesting to watch

this turned around with hamlet scrubbing over her face as he presents her to the audience’s 4th wall for the make up lines. and shoves her down to the floor at the end

the physical manipulation hamlet takes out on ophelia is a super interesting segue to the players scene

2 b / x 2 b

ham sat in the middle of the front of the stage and held the hand of an audience member who he talked he speech to. very intimate and closed and really interesting interpretation

im a nerd so i really like the juxtaposition of such a grand and philosophical speech being told on such an intimate and small scale

Hamlet’s still got his smudged clown makeup on

hamlet and horatio come across Very gay in the ‘something too much of this’ line. i vibe

hamlet decimated his friendship with R&G and i LOVED how Horatio held him and then forced him away to give him just a touch more character. this Ht loved R&G as well and i appreciate the bit of character we all try to give horatio

Horatio’s Emotions over R&G’s impending death is a++ give this man some emotional range

OH the ‘if your mind dislike anything, obey it’ can we PLEASE listen to horatio the lone voice of reason within elsinor’s halls

that’s not me being gay, that’s a legit analysis of Hamlet in that everyone in Elsinor has a twisted sense of reality and morality and Horatio as an outsider is immune and must watch in horror

the argument is flawed with R&G but hey it’s not my theory.

THE TRUMPETS . there’s live trumpets

the music they played to signal the half time of the play was wonderfully dissonant and i VIBE WITH THAT that is the ENERGY of Elsinor right there

honestly im annoying and i don’t particularly care for the play scene as an audience member. like academically the play within a play is rife with analysis but like. to just sit and watch it feels like such a halt in the energy

plus i really dislike it when they use gross physical comedy in the dumb-show because again. im annoying

anyway they only do the dumb-show (more tollerable than a lot) and they use drum beats and purcussion in place of lines, and have hamlet explain what’s going on with his lines. it’s certainly different and its a lot quicker than the text is

This Claudius is Prime Smarmy Politicians and is very indignant as he tries to pray and i REALLY LIKE HIM

The scene transitions are .. non existent in this play and i LIKE IT

the lines follow on immediately between scenes as the other characters are leaving the stage

i love how it supports the theme of acting this play has and how it breaks down the barrier for the audience of personal vs private

thats not quite what i want to say uhhhhh. in other productions some of the scenes are really discreet from each other- like how pearl necklaces have stoppers between the pearls- and that’s especially evident in films, but here it’s the opposite and the scenes bleed into each other to create a really fast paced and chaotic energy and i REALLY LIKE IT

‘personal vs private’ is on god my favourite theme in hamlet and the way it works with the audience creating it here is GREAT

Closet scene... OH BOY

this hamlet is CRUEL oml

the ghost enters after hamlet spends 3 minutes berating his mother and she’s crying on the floor by the audience and hamlet immediately stops and starts weeping

‘oh save me’ sounds so small and childlike and it really showcases the love between them

not that kind of love, sigmund fucking freud. get your mind out the gutter

the disdain hamlet has for gertrude absolutely breaks my heart but that’s a me thing because i haven’t been able to see my mother in person for coming up on a month due to quarantine :(

added an extra hug before ham leaves .. v sweet

Claudius comes barreling in and picks up ham’s dropped sword. :eye emoji: doesn’t put it down until Hamlet’s brought in for questioning. but he’s still holding a book (english dictionary presumably?) and this act of holding a sword for 2 scenes WILL be reiterated time and time again in ever hamlet essay i write forever to whatever end i so desire because it’s easy to manipulate to my own purposes. bless this moment

There’s a seagull that keeps interrupting claudius at perhaps the funniest possible moments in his soliloquies and honestly WHERE is it’s Olivier

Ophelia’s madness isn’t as explicit as it is in other versions, but watching her tumble into emotions and lack of restraint is so, so heartbreaking.

this is one of the productions of hamlet that makes a really convincing case for ‘madness’ in elsinor being synonymous to speaking one’s mind and being truthful about one’s heightened emotions and like. i Love that interpretation

lets be real i love 99% of hamlet interpretations

the 1% is freud. fuck that guy

I’m Digging the parallel of Ophelia’s emotional outburts of grief (in madness) to Laertes incensed outburst of grief . ohoho

Laertes gets rosemary and pansies, Claudius gets fennel and columbines, Gertrude gets the rue, Audience member gets the daisy and the thought of violets

unfortunately i once wrote a shite poem about gertrude and weather she know of the poison in the cup at the end and unfortunately that’s all i can think about for the last 40 mins of the play hfdhgjgghjhgj

im annoying so i read along with the play and the duets Claudius and Laertes make of the meter and the word formatting on the page comes across really different on stage, which is super interesting.

not to be really fucking dramatic but i read in the info packet of this play that the pillars on the stage are actually tree trunks carved and painted to look like marble and considering how many times i had to hear the words ‘appearance vs reality’ in my english class, i think im allowed to use the smirk emoji about how the setting of the globe is Integral to Hamlet as a play

i am itching to write an entire 4000 word tirade about the use of the physical body in hamlet because between the actual acting on stage, polonius, ‘one auspicious and one dropping eye’ and all whole host of references made to physical body parts i am going feral

PLUS this one incorporates sign language

i actually hate the word incorporates but needs must

The Ophelia’s death speech is of course wonderful, but i can’t stop thinking about how John Everett Millais made his model (who’s name escapes me in a terrible irony because i got this information from an exhibition about the female pre-raphalites) sit in a cold bath for hours on end whilst he sketched and it made her very ill because the fire went out and she was sat nude in a bath of cold water for hours.

Gravedigger only has the songs and the hamlet interaction, and he wears a high vis jacket. he’s also played by the ghost’s actor, which whilst understandable in such a small cast, amuses me greatly

Hamlet’s got his hair tied back and in a military style jacket, and marches around with Horatio who’s in a hoodie and a black duffle coat (absolutely a student) and the same tight plait. Ham’s definitely meant to be sane now, he speaks very brusquely and all but marches around the stage

Not To Make An Edelgard Reference But edelgard’s cause in 3H was also cemented by a timeskip and a military outfit and a brusque personality hehehe

Hamlet gets into the ‘grave’ to chat to Yorick which, again, i will use in every relevant essay i will write and manipulate this scene to whatever end i desire and on god i thank this production for this

a level me would have gone feral

current me is also going feral

Grave Scene: a terrible one for your family to walk in and ask what the fuck you’re watching

Polonius’ actor plays the priest. yes, capsule wardrobe of a cast, i know but i’m an english student it’s my duty to wring every irrational inch of analysis out of this thing

i won’t trail on about unsubstaniated interpretations of Polonius’ parenting skills and fate in Hamlet but on god i will find an essay about it

i always enjoy it when someone leaps in the grave .. the melodrama... the meaning... the liminal spaces...

the DRAMA of seperating feral laertes and the really calm and imposing hamlet is excellent and a bit hilarious and the camera is going nuts

i’m very aware that everyone is now traipsing about over the grave in the middle of the stage and THAT’S a fun dynamic you don’t get from film or text

ok I’ve just noticed the video has the ‘top chat replay’ going and the very first line i saw is ‘what if hamlet had tiktok’ and i am CRYING

Ophelia’s actor also plays Osric and is a) absolutely hilarious and b) again, capsule wardrobe of a cast will not stop me from analysing everything and anything this play may or may not offer me.

im not saying hamlet is a play about inheritance and the burden of it, but also... isn’t it :eye emoji:

if bloody fire emblem fates can do it so can i, step off

Fencing scene: oh thank god it’s nearly over

The hearts on their fencing get ups parallel Hamlet’s clown outfit with a heart on the sleeve Very Nicely

Gertrude isn’t wearing her headpiece anymore .. ohoho dispelling the trappings and suits of dishonesty, if you will

The duel is a) bloody terrifying because sword fighting and b) judged by Osric (Ophelia) and the poetry of having ham & lae’s duel waged over and judged by Ophelia is absolutely excellent

Claudius’s aside (or to laertes? camera didn’t follow) had no right to be as humorous as it was jdfsghfkd

Gertrude figured out it was poison in this one. Nice

I like the call and response effect of ‘Treachery! Seek it out! / It is here Hamlet’ they made with Hamlet running around they stage to find little propped up Laertes

The dramatic eye contact of Hamlet and Claudius as he forces him to drink the poison.... OH HECK YES

the way they sink to the floor in a pair, with hamlet crawling over his body to make sure he dies... oh LORD

the swing hamlet does with his arm to the audience to cast them as ‘the unsatisfied’ was EXCELLENT and i would like that in every production of hamlet please

the tussle of horatio and hamlet over the cup..... iconic.... and i enjoy the parallel of that to hamlet with claudius as they’re stood in the same corner

The harsh projection of Hamlet’s voice and the blunt manner of his words about Fortinbras’ inheritance of denmark against the soft way Horatio rocks Hamlet back and forth ... i want to CRY

Horatio got to have emotional range in this production .. wonderful

i always enjoy the way the play tails off with politics in a room of dead bodies.. the layers the absolute onions

how none of the drama within the castle has any meaning to anyone outside of it is Excellent

and then the way the prison and enclosure of elsinor is finally broken with military force in parallel to the tumultuous interpersonal relationships within it... i vibe yet more

they actually ended with ‘go bid the soldiers shoot’ which i enjoy a lot!!!! and the music is wonderful

then they all start doing this dance which i think is meant to be about the themes of the play and to be perfectly honest it’s a bit crunchy for me but the music absolutely slaps!!!

final thoughts:

that sure was a hamlet production and i thought it had a lot of heart and did some new things very very well!!!

and i loved the emphasis they put on the costuming!!!!

overall: a solid hamlet. very nice. i greatly enjoyed it!!!!

#hamlet blogging #OH BOY THIS IS LONG THIS IS SO LONG

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paladin-andric · 5 years

Text

Blackheart, Chapter 25: Farewell

It was no easy task the group found themselves burdened with, but each of them was driven in one way or another to see it through to the end.

Leianna and Lexius were both determined to stop the spread of corruption, bound by church duty and opposition to all evil.

Senci and Razorwing both seemed to thrive off of helping others. Razorwing had been performing such acts of heroism for years, while Senci dreamed of becoming such a hero, this quest his first step on that long journey.

Andric was slightly tougher to pin down. Of course like Leianna and Lexius demons and death were his opponents, but Alexander suspected he had rushed here because he was worried about Senci who was, in a way, family to him.

Charles was just a quiet magician whose motives remained unknown. He didn’t seem driven by fame or honor or any of that...yet he stayed with them. Perhaps he was just doing this because it needed to be done, and he had valuable skills no one else on the team had. He was needed, so he answered the call.

Tourthun wanted to become some sort of guardian to the survivors, and mankind at large. Was it grief or guilt at seeing so many die? Was it his desire to be able to strike out against evil, after being forced to stand by and suffer from it all his life? Alexander wasn’t sure, but his drive appeared relentless.

He couldn’t say why Paul was here. He seemed like the type who lived a life of danger, so this was just another mission to see through for him? While his silence and lack of reasons for why he was with the trouble might have drawn suspicion, he HAD saved Alexander and Senci’s lives. There was little room for doubt after that affair.

The knight thought to himself as he clung to Tourthun, who soared in through the air. This group was nothing like any he had ever served with...although that wasn’t a bad thing. Far from it. It was bizarre, unconventional, full of people whose entire species unnerved Alexander...yet he felt a bond with each of them.

He remembered how disgusted he was when he learned of Charles. A member of the lowly, wicked and cruel half-dragons, the monsters who were as sociopathic as they were cunning...yet once he met the man, it became clear he wasn’t like that at all.

He acted like a shy, insecure boy at times. He would snap and then profusely apologize. There was a spark in his eyes whenever the topic of magic was brought up. He read like a madman, tearing into hefty tomes with glee.

He was just like any other person...aside from the scales. And claws. And wings. And just about everything else.

But that was the point. His appearance was frightening, but his spirit was so...familiar. Like he wasn’t part dragon at all.

Maybe, Alexander thought, this is the silver lining of this tragedy. To learn from the ‘beasts’, to understand them fully and grasp the complexity of life.

He’d told himself the same thing before, but convincing himself of something so vehemently opposed to his old view of the world was still challenging. Once, he’d thought that beastmen were overwhelmingly cruel or barbaric. True, there were a few good ones, but they were the exception.

No longer could he tell himself such things.

He looked down, and gazed at the dragon currently soaring above the city.

To think even these beasts of legend are so much like us…

He shook his head. He’d pondered such things long enough. These people were his teammates, his comrades in arms and fellow warriors, all standing united against the plague that was demonkind.

There was nothing else to say on the matter.

He took a moment to look around the skies briefly. Nothing.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel antsy. Something was out there, watching. Surely, something was. Could three dragons really slip past an entire city conquered by demons unnoticed?

Everyone was crowded on Tourthun’s back, all hanging onto him as they journeyed back west, towards the gates.

The group had wanted to head over and defeat the monster at the gates, wasting no time and descending upon it with their newfound draconic allies. Hopefully, it would be swift and decisive.

“Hey, Leianna!” Alexander called out.

The cleric looked over and shouted back, both of them fighting to keep their voices heard over the cutting wind. “Yeah?”

“How’d you and Lexius get back on your feet?”

“Andric!”

“I know! What’d he do?”

“Sleepskips!” she shouted back, “Woulda been back at it in no time if I had packed some! Figures!”

“What are those?” the knight questioned.

“You’ve never heard?” a voice answered from behind him. It was soft and inhuman, quiet and unsure. He could tell it came from Charles, who sat directly behind him. His close proximity allowed the pair to speak without shouting.

“I’ve heard the name, but...only in passing.”

“Well,” the magician started, “They’re potions that fill whomever drinks it with energy. It unclouds sight and mind and restores vigor upon the user. Err, I mean vigor as in energy. It doesn’t heal you or anything. It’s like...a night’s sleep in a bottle.”

“Ah.”

“Mhm. As you might know, using magic taxes you. For people like priests and sorcerers, those potions are invaluable.”

“Sleepskip potions…”

“Very creative, right?” Charles chuckled. “Someone else named them, not I!”

“Well, it’s to the point, at least…”

“Uh, yeah! Very!”

Alexander remained silent after that exchange. He thought about how lucky they were that things had turned out the way they had.

Stumbling across the demon’s source of immortality. Andric bringing medical tonics to the wounded and exhausted. Tourthun being talked down. The other family of dragons joining forces with them.

To think they stumbled across such great fortune blindly.

He stared at the passing cityscape and wondered what would happen when-

What sounded like an explosion gave Alexander only a brief moment’s warning before a beam of blackness shot past Tourthun from behind, narrowly missing him.

The dragon, clearly rattled, dove to the side and looked over his back. The group holding onto him followed his gaze, wondering where it had come from.

High above them, in the air, a large figure hovered amidst the swirling fog.

The dragon.

The corrupted beast that had nearly caught them in the streets earlier.

The other dragons had whirled around and spotted it, too.

“Brother!” Basilrin snarled, wings flapping as he stared the monster down.

“So you’re the one who’s been firing that…” Alexander mumbled, unheard by the others.

Looks like we’ll be fighting this foe first...

“Thank you for coming!” the dragon roared back. Its voice was dark and wavering, unholy and warbling. “Thank you for gathering together like this...so I can get you all in one fell swoop!”

The dragon opened its maw, but this time Tourthun was ready. He took a sharp turn to the side and dove out of the way, just as another beam of death shot past him.

The other dragons didn’t hesitate, launching after the beast and approaching quickly. Seeing this, Tourthun turned back, staring at the small people on his back.

“I should set you down!”

“No argument here,” Lexius spoke quietly.

“Seriously?” Leianna raised a brow at the priest.

“What am I gonna do, throw my sword at him?!”

“Put the others down,” Razorwing offered, “I can fire upon him!”

Crux took out his crossbow. “I can fire as well…”

“Very well! You two stay! I will set everyone else down!”

Tourthun swooped down and landed on the city streets, looking over his shoulder and speaking in a hurried manner.

“Quickly, off, off!”

Everyone slid off of the dragon and onto the stone street below. The only ones who remained were Razorwing, Crux...and Charles.

“Uhh...Charles?” the bounty hunter stared over his shoulder in confusion.

“I-I’ve got my magic! Let me help!”

Tourthun seemed to ponder it for a moment.

Alexander opened his mouth to protest, but a hand on his shoulder gave him pause.

He turned to see Andric, giving him a knowing look. “This is his choice.”

The knight frowned and nodded, stepping back.

“Very well...let us be off. I will keep you safe, as best I can.”

The dragon looked up, watching as his father’s killer reached the corrupted dragon and threw himself upon it, Basilrin not far behind.

“Be courageous! I am by your side!” Tourthun shouted as he kicked off, ascending into the air.

The rest of the group watched the two green dragons fight with the corrupted beast as Tourthun went after them.

“Shouldn’t we do something?” Leianna asked, tapping her foot.

“What CAN we do?” Lexius frowned as he stared at the battle in the sky. The father and son tore into the larger dragon, both of them getting forced back as the mighty beast threw them off and swung his own claws at them.

“What, are we really just gonna stand here and WATCH?!” the cleric barked, clearly upset with the situation.

“We cannot effectively help from here,” Andric spoke softly, “But what we can do is stick to cover and try to keep close to them. You never know what might happen, and we need to stay close incase something goes awry.”

Tourthun flew around the corrupted dragon, who was too preoccupied with battling his family to notice him. The red dragon slowed his flight and began to drift past the beast, carefully keeping some distance between them.

Shortly after this, the group watched as a flurry of arrows, bolts, and spears of ice flew from over Tourthun and hit the dark dragon in the back.

The beast loud out a bellowing roar and turned back, firing a beam of death at Tourthun, who quickly flew out of the way, shooting a jet of fire back in return.

The green dragons clawed at him, and Basilrin even spat at the monster. It didn’t seem to do anything, but their physical attacks clearly hurt. The beast spun and slammed a leg downwards into Aurelio, claws tearing into him with murderous intent.

Aurelio roared out in agony, falling down towards the city below. Basilrin looked back in horror and cried out at the display.

“Father!”

By this point the rest of the team on the ground was running forward. Their boots pounded against the stone ground as they rushed to head closer to the battle.

Aurelio came crashing back to earth, the ground shaking as entire buildings were leveled by his violent landing. He had fallen quite far ahead, it would take quite some time for the group to reach him. Who knew if his wounds were fatal?

The corrupted dragon seemed to realize he had been given an opening. He prepared to take advantage of the now distraught and distracted Basilrin, who was still staring at his fallen father in horror.

Tourthun sensed this, working quickly to regain the upper hand in battle.

“Fire!” he shouted, and the trio on his back resumed shooting their projectiles into the dark dragon’s back. Yet again the monster cried out in pain, and Tourthun swiftly flew around him as he struggled to retaliate.

The red dragon passed by Basilrin, saying something to him quietly. After that, the green dragon seemed to regain control of himself, turning to face the mist-wrapped beast and roaring out a challenge to him.

“BROTHER! I WILL MAKE YOU PAY!”

His voice carried a frightening level of conviction, reverberations of the behemoth’s fury even reaching as far as the group on the ground.

Tourthun seemed to be...retreating?

He flew down towards the survivors running forward, even as Basilrin threw himself into battle alone.

The red dragon indeed flew right down to them, landing on the street and lowering himself to the ground in an instant, as if to let them on him.

“Andric, we need to restore Aurelio!”

Alexander’s brows raised at the dragon’s frantic attempts to revive the one who he seemed to hate.

“Tourthun? I thought you wanted-”

“We MUST win!” the dragon returned, eyes narrowed, “Hurry, Basilrin can only hold him back for so long!”

Andric run to him quickly, climbing onto the beast without so much as a word. Razorwing reached down and offered a hand, pulling the paladin up onto the dragon’s back.

“I can help as well,” Lexius offered, hurrying forward.

“A fair plan,” Tourthun offered, “We do not know the extent of his injuries.”

“Hey, what about-”

“No!” Andric called out, now on top of the dragon. Though he cut off Leianna, his voice was soft.

“If the group’s separated, we need healers available to as many as possible! At least one should stay with the rest-.”

“No more time!” Tourthun yelled, the priest now on top of him as well, “We go!”

The dragon kicked off, leaving the rest of the group alone...including one grumbling cleric.

“He’s right,” Alexander said quietly, “If one of us dies because all the priests were somewhere else…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leianna muttered, eyes narrowed, “I get it.”

Tourthun flew off with blinding speed towards the area where Aurelio had fallen.

“We should keep moving!” Senci cried, “What if they’re attacked by corrupted on the ground?!”

“Good point. Let’s go.”

The group, now consisting of Alexander, Leianna and Senci, hurried to catch up as quickly as they could. They tore through the streets, though the pair flying far above them never seemed to get any closer.

Eventually, an ear-shattering roar caught their attention. High above them, the corrupted monster snarled at Basilrin wings flapping unsteadily as it turned tail and flew away.

The green dragon gave chase, just as Tourthun came back into view, reapproaching the group once more.

The red dragon landed quickly, eyes brimming with what appeared to be fear.

“I do not know how, but Basilrin has somehow forced a retreat! Hurry, we must chase him down!”

Alexander narrowed his eyes. “Hey...where’s everyone else?”

The dragon’s back was unoccupied. Razorwing, Crux and even Charles were gone.

“There were corrupted on the streets! They are holding the line while the two healers tend to HIM,” Tourthun ended with a huff, grimacing.

The knight shrugged. “Alright, let’s go.”

Everyone quickly moved and clambered atop the dragon, who immediately launched into the air without warning.

He was in a great hurry, and Alexander could hardly blame him.

“Why are we following?” Senci asked timidly.

“He’s running away,” Alexander explained, “Senci, where do people go when they get hurt, or lose a fight?”

“Umm...somewhere safe?”

“Their home, or base,” the knight corrected, “There’s a good chance that if we give chase...we could gain access to their seat of power! Plus, we don’t want him coming back. It’s time to finish this, so we can get back to our original plan.”

The kobold nodded. “Umm...okay. Are you sure this? I mean...we’re separated!”

“We’ve got him on the ropes!” Leianna bellowed, “We can finish him off and regroup!”

“Okay…”

Senci seemed unsure about this.

His points are valid, but...this is our one chance. He’ll come better prepared next time. We’ll lose people if we let him run. Hell, we might have lost someone already...

Tourthun sped up, hurrying to rejoin Basilrin and assist in the fight against the green dragons fallen brother. The city whizzed by them, Alexander finding it difficult to hang on with such resistance in the wind.

Tourthun could have flown this quickly all along, but didn’t want anyone getting hurt. Now though, speed is of the essence…

The red dragon tracked Basilrin and the shadow-dragon across the city. They flew far East, deep into uncharted territory.

All around them, ruined buildings flew by them as the pursuit continued, wind battering the group as they desperately clung to the dragon’s back.

With several long minutes having passed, and Aurelio and the rest of them nowhere in sight, Alexander started to get worried. He would have alerted Tourthun to this, only…

A massive structure made him freeze and stare in amazement.

It came from the streets below...although, it wasn’t really below them. A massive, gaping holy rose far above the humble buildings surrounding it. Only a church on the horizon rose to meet it, dwarfing everything else.

It seemed like it had come from the earth itself, several buildings leveled and in ruins around it. The massive hole was round and made of stone. It looked like the entrance to a complex tunnel system, only massively oversized.

Big enough to fit dragons in, even…

That was it!

This is his hideout, his lair! We’ve tracked him back to the source!

Alexander could only imagine the secrets lying within the tunnel…

The mist-swallowed dragon stopped and turned around, glaring at the group pursuing him. With little hesitation, he lifted his head to the sky and let out a bellowing roar that seemed to make the world itself shake.

Only...Basilrin was already upon him.

Why did the beast ignore such a threat to its well-being? Alexander couldn’t say. The beasts on the ground seemed to lose all sense of self-preservation, becoming little more than feral monsters consumed by bloodlust.

This dragon had spoken. Retreated when he was hurt and outnumbered. He was clearly no mindless creature...so why did he do nothing as Basilrin crashed into him?

The dark dragon roared out, this time in pain as it fell from the sky. Basilrin gave no pause and swooped down after him, Tourthun on both of their heels.

The red dragon landed beside the other two, shouting frantically.

“Get off! Get down!”

The Alexander and the rest quickly slid onto the streets, after which Tourthun turned and leapt into the fray. Basilrin and the corrupted dragon were both on the floor clawing and biting at each other as they struggled to kill the other.

The dark dragon grinned. “Hah...hah...you have…already lost…”

Tourthun dug his claws into the other monster’s back, causing it to cry out one final time before collapsing to the ground in a heap.

Both dragons got back to their feet and looked down at the fallen beast. Basilrin huffed as he caught his breath, winded from the tough battle.

“T-that...that was...easier than I thought…” he spoke quietly.

Tourthun frowned. “Indeed. If what you said about his actions earlier is true, it seems he almost...wanted us to kill him.”

Senci crept forward, peering at the fallen beast nervously. “Did we win…?”

“It seems so…” the knight walked closer and stared. The dragon was motionless, its pure white eyes staring up at nothing as it lay there.

“So...that’s it?” Leianna crossed her arms. “He...said we lost, despite knowing we beat him.”

“He must mean something else…”

As Alexander looked down and considered the beast’s final words, a loud noise broke him from his trance.

The corrupted dragon was not dead, in any sense.

It shifted its body, though still lay on the ground, not moving to get up. It craned its neck and looked over at Basilrin.

Tourthun and Basilrin both noticed and moved toward the beast, but it stopped them in their tracks with a single utterance.

“Wait.”

It was spoken in a low and breathless voice, born of fear and desperation. So pitiful was the monster’s sudden change in tone, that Tourthun and Basilrin actually did pause in their approach.

It looked up at the green dragon for a long time. Its blank, expressionless eyes seemed to drink Basilrin in, locked squarely on him.

The was a short grunt before it continued.

“...brother?”

Basilrin’s eyes widened in shock. “J-Julroul?!”

The corrupted dragon frowned. “Ahh...it is indeed I.”

“You...remember me?”

“All too well.”

There was an awkward pause between the two before Julroul continued.

“Basilrin...thank you.”

“For what?”

“For-”

The shrouded dragon groaned, still laying motionless. “...for putting an end to my madness.”

“Brother…? You are yourself?”

“I...suppose I am.”

Basilrin looked over at the rest of the group, eyes full of desperation. “H-healer! Help him!”

Leianna hesitated for a moment. She looked suspicious, but…

The cleric ran forward, reaching the fallen dragon and looking him over carefully.

“He’s...you tore him apart,” the woman muttered, running a hand over his ripped and cracked scales, her own body obscured by the fog around the dragon.

“No use…” Julroul mumbled, “I am at my end. Though after what has happened...I do not think I could stand to live anyway.”

“Why…?” Basilrin questioned, “Why did you do it? Why did you join them? Why did you...m-mother...your mother, my mother...our mother…”

Julroul let a rattling sigh. “I...I cannot excuse myself. I became so blinded by my hatred. I was so angry at being subjugated by humanity. I...I let it consume me. I let it control me. I...let it overwhelm my sense of honor. That was not the demons, brother...to my shame, they merely brought out what I had been trying to deny. I am not good, like you, or the rest of our family...forgive me, my brother. I have you down. I have let us all down. I am pathetic.”

“D-do something!” Basilrin barked at Leianna, wincing.

The cleric groaned as she stared at the dark dragon. “H-he...he’s too much for me. I could maybe stabilize him, but-”

“NO!”

Everyone looked over to see Julroul, still lying on death’s door.

“You...if you heal me...I will just fall to their influence again. Please...do not do such a thing...I would turn on you all...you must not…”

“What do we do?!” Senci cried, looking over the dragon in desperation.

“He...he’s a conduit for so much corruption,” Leianna spoke in a horrified tone, “I...I can’t get rid of so much. Even if I could, he’d just die anyway. A-and if try to heal him instead, I wouldn’t be able to stop him from being overwhelmed by the corruption…”

“The answer is clear.” Julroul turned his head to face the cleric, as well as Alexander and Senci.

“You must let me go.”

“N-no, brother, please!”

Julroul groaned once again, black blood seeping out from under him. “I am sorry, Basilrin. At least with this, I will no longer hurt you, or anyone else I care about.”

“There must be some way…” Leianna kneeled on the ground, rummaging through her pack. “Argh! THINK, damn it! Come on! There’s an answer somewhere!”

“It will be alright,” Julroul assured, “Everything will be alright.”

Basilrin shook his head. “No! I cannot lose you! I cannot lose any more! You and father are all I have! Please, fight this!”

“Brother...I can fight no longer. I have let the demons possess me. I have thrown away all I cherished. I...I even…my own mother…”

“It was not you!”

Julroul growled. “It was the demons, yes...but only because I CHOSE to let them into me. I gave into my fear. I gave into my hate. I sold your lives for petty vengeance. I am a traitor and a fool. If I had only listened to you, my dear brother...the demons never could have done this.”

Basilrin closed his eyes, overwhelmed with grief. “You...we can…”

“No more. My time is up. I...I can feel it...I grow cold…”

Leianna snarled. “A-Andric! Lexius! DAMN IT! If we hadn’t split up…! Damn it! Everything would have been fine! DAMN IT ALL!”

She slammed a fist on the ground, furious at her own inability to save the dragon single-handedly. The cleric kneeled, shaking her head as she chastised herself for her failure, even as guiltless as she was.

“Basilrin...this is goodbye…”

“No...no!” the green dragon clutched onto his dying brother, tears in his eyes. “Please...please, do not leave...I need you here...I need my family…”

Julroul, frowned. “Brother…? I have...a request.”

“Anything.”

The dark dragon swallowed hard. “Please...do not think of me like this, when I am gone. After this is over, and you mourn...remember myself as I was before all of this. Remember your big brother, the one who always told you how great you would be one day. Can you do that? Can you promise your brother such a thing?”

Basilrin nodded, tears flowing down his muzzle. “I promise...I can see the old you already...those days we would lounge in the fields together.”

Julroul smiled wryly. “The best of my days.”

The blood was flowing heavily now, in a large pool around the dragon, seeping into the cracks of the stone streets.

“So cold...brother…”

“Julroul…”

“Basilrin...please forgive me.”

“I have.”

Julroul closed his eyes. His breathing slowed.

“I can see her. I can see mother. I wonder...if she forgives me.”

“I am sure she will understand.”

Julroul let out a harrowing rattle. “I love you…”

Basilrin stared through blurry eyes as his brother’s final moments, shaking. “I love you, as well.”

Julroul seized up as the cold embrace of death came to claim his soul, once and for all.

“I...will miss you…” he wheezed quietly.

With that, his breathing stopped. He was now truly motionless.

Basilrin stared down at the now dead dragon, tears dripping down from him and onto the still warm body of Julroul.

“B-brother…”

Leianna covered her mouth and averted her gaze. Though she had no personal attachment to the beast, her failure to save him seemed to be weighing heavily on her.

“He is...gone. He is...really gone…”

The green dragon took short, shallow breaths as he backed up, staring in abject horror.

“This...this is a bad dream...this cannot be happening…”

“Basilrin.”

The green dragon turned and saw Tourthun. He gave the grieving beast a somber expression.

“It is difficult to accept. I understand.”

“T-Tourthun...this...this is what you felt, too?”

“Nothing hurts more,” the red dragon admitted, “But...the afterlife...is a paradise. He is happy, now. He is free of this horrific demonscape. He is free of the corruption. He is...free.”

Basilrin frowned. He seemed to think the red dragon’s words over carefully.

“Paradise…”

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 6 years

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Post S3 Finale Fic, Part 10

"Do you really think aliens can help Earth?" After Thara's, they gravitate back to Zor-el's lab, still in their dinner outfits. Kara sits on an empty bench, watching Lena resume her work. The question pops out of her without her really meaning it to. Neither of them mind the quiet, and frankly Kara doesn't really want to know if Lena actually meant what she said, or whether it was just lip service. Lena hums, not taking her gaze from the datapad she's hooked up to one of the consoles. "They already are." Kara flushes. "Right." "Oh. No, I meant the transmat portal." Now it's Lena’s turn to blush. "Once we've found a way to ensure uninvited visitors won't be able to hijack it, I still anticipate we can implement a network on a smaller, global scale to aid relief efforts in places of famine and crises. And I'm pretty sure the harun'el is the key to sustainable clean energy. I've been testing--" "You've been what?" Every fiber of Kara's being tightens at once. Lena doesn't break stride in the slightest. "I've been running further tests on the sample--" "You were supposed to surrender all generated material to my mother before she returned to Argo," Kara snaps. Her good mood from dinner is gone, vanished in an instant. "A decision made without my input-- or notification," Lena fires back. Her voice is calm and even, but no less even. "So when you listened to my mother and I worry about the dangers of the black Kryptonite--" "Mentioning it didn't feel appropriate--" "So, what-- more secrets? That's great, Lena. Just great." "Ahem." Kara turns to face Lena, and finds her friend's hands spread wide to indicate not only the lab around them, but the city beyond--- and everything that had come with it. A dark eyebrow lifts expectantly, and Kara feels herself deflate. Her quick anger evaporates, knowing she doesn't have a leg to stand on. "Right," she mutters. "Okay. Fine." "I knew you wouldn't react well, and I thought having a peaceful goodbye with your mother was more important than clearing air that was already cloudy between us. I'm telling you now." "I said okay."

"That word is meaningless, no matter how many times you say it." Lena scoffs, a mirthless, derisive smile twisting her features. "But I guess I shouldn't be surprised at this point." Kara can't help the frustrated sigh that escapes her as she senses a familiar argument starting up again. "It's not that simple, Lena--" "You know what echoes in my brain every time you say you trust me?" Lena cuts in. "What?" "The day we went to find Sam in the dark valley, I asked you for your real name. I didn't expect you to answer, because we're all entitled to keep secrets." "That's different--" "Is what you could have said," Lena finishes drolly, before her gaze hardens. "But instead you looked me in the eye and told me it wasn’t a great question for a Luthor to ask someone in your family.'" Guilt twists Kara's insides, just like it did when she’d first said the words. She'd regretted it even then, but hadn't been able to dodge the question without it. "And you know what? It sucked for Supergirl to say that in the first place, after everything I'd already done to help her and everyone else, but I understood. She didn't know me that well. But now that I know the truth I know that she did know me that well! I didn't know who you were, but you knew me, and it wasn't just a superhero doubting me, it was my best friend!" Lena shakes her head before Kara can even try to respond, gesturing sharply with one hand as her arms fold around her. "And you can try to pretend that Kryptonite is the one thing that you can't abide, but we both know that's just another lie." "That is not--” "What did you do with the Kryptonite I surrendered, Kara?" Lena demands sharply. "You sure as hell didn't destroy it like I expected you to. You didn't incinerate it with your heat vision, or fling it into space... you gave it to your sister. Your problem isn’t the Kryptonite, it’s that I have it. Even now, when I tell you that the harun’el could be the key to saving Earth from itself, all you can see is more Kryptonite in the hands of a Luthor."

Kara doesn’t respond. She can’t. She wants to scream that it’s not about Lena’s family, it’s about them, their friendship, and the lies, all the lies. But if she does, she’ll just be adding one more falsehood to the mix. Because Lena’s right. Of course she is.

“You can heap all the trust on me you want, genuine or otherwise,” Lena continues, tossing her datapad aside with an irreverent clatter. “But maybe the bigger question is why exactly I should trust you.”

She brushes past Kara on her way towards the door. She doesn’t look back.

After she changes for bed, Kara hovers in the doorway of Lena's room. With her eyes closed against the low light, Lena lays motionless across her bed with her hands folded over her stomach. She looks almost like she's sleeping, but Kara can feel the anger that simmers beneath the surface of her peaceful repose. "I wish you'd stop walking away from me." For moment, the only indication that Lena's heard her is the slowing of her breath. Then her eyes open, focusing on the ceiling above. When she doesn't demand solitude, Kara enters the rest of the way, and sits on the edge opposite Lena. When she lays back, their heads nearly align. There's nothing on the ceiling to hold her attention like it has Lena's, so Kara turns her gaze to her friend's inverted profile. "I don't know how we're going to be honest with each other if you keep turning your back as soon as you decide the conversation is done. Or how we’re going to move forward if you don’t give me a chance to respond." Lena doesn't answer. Lena doesn't look at her. Lena continues to stare at the ceiling, taking slow, even breaths. This close, Kara can hear each one, and knows that they fill her lungs with every inhalation. Kara turns her gaze back to the ceiling, and waits.

“You keep asking for honesty,” Lena murmurs. “It’s hard to give that to you when I feel like I’m one slip away from ruining everything for good.”

“You’re allowed to be angry, Lena.” Kara ignores the soft scoff that answers her. “I know you are, and I don’t want to imagine what you must think of me. I’d rather you just tell me.”

Lena shakes her head. “You don’t want that.”

“Yes, I do!” Kara lifts her hand instinctively, ready to reach for a hand or a shoulder-- anything. But their awkward positions across the mattress leaves nothing in reach but the ends of Lena’s hair. Kara lets her fingers brush against the soft strands. “Lena, please--”

"You're selfish. And a liar, and a hypocrite, and you took advantage of our friendship-- something I valued more than anything else.” Once the words start pouring out of her, they don’t stop. “I think you’re cruel-- for letting me believe a lie for so long. For letting me believe that you were different from everyone else.”

Lena’s voice wavers, matching the wobble of Kara’s vision as tears fill her eyes.

“You want me to hate you, because if I am it justifies all of your lies and secrets. And I think it's insulting that you insist that I be honest with you when you can't even manage to be honest with yourself!" Lena's breath rattles in the quiet that follows. Kara tries not to react. She asked to hear it. She knows Lena needed to say it, if they were going to have any hope of moving forward. That doesn't keep every word from cutting into her like knives of kryptonite.

“And I hate that every kind word from you now feels like a lie, because I can no longer tell the difference. I never did.” Unable to respond, Kara swallows thickly. In that moment she realizes that the very space she begged Lena to close just moments before is the very thing she needs. She lingers out of spite, forcing herself to stay put and accept every stab of Lena’s words, and let them find their mark.

Lena’s head turns towards her, and when their eyes meet Kara finds brimming tears to match her own.

“What do you have to say to that, Supergirl?”

Her tone spoils for a fight, waiting for the same hate she expects Kara to expect from her. Retorts and accusations bubble up inside Kara before falling away unspoken. Seconds tick past, one by one, as Kara reaches for something to say, certain of only one thing: if she responds in anger or hurt, she’ll lose Lena for good.

She holds Lena’s gaze, and feels her chest tremble as she takes a breath to speak.

"Thank you,” she murmurs softly. “For sharing this with me.”

She speaks the truth now, and it helps soothe the sting of Lena's words. Lena blinks, and somehow the tears in her eyes stay put. Kara offers a soft smile before climbing to her feet. It’s a concession, to grant Lena the distance she’d just admonished a minute ago. But Kara can’t deny she needs it-- to think, and absorb-- to find the words she wants to say.

At the threshold, she pauses and forces three more words past the lump in her throat. "Good night, Lena."

When she leaves, she closes the door behind her.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14 (fin)

#i wrote dis #post s3 finale #identity reveal #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl #kara zorel #the great kryptonite rift #the rift reopens #angst #hurt

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kyluxtrashpit · 6 years

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Okay so this started as an addition to @sinningsquire‘s recent post and the subsequent discussion but then it kinda took on a life of its own and then it got REALLY STUPIDLY LONG so I’m going to avoid cluttering the notes and just put my ramble here on my own blog lmao. Anyone is free to disagree, this is just me being inspired by the discussion and adding some thoughts, but this is also how the characters come across to me and I’m unlikely to change my mind at this point. Also I’m putting it behind a cut, but if you’re on mobile, I am so fucking sorry omg. Go filter ‘long post’, refresh, and then you’ll be okay

So the thing about Kylo and Hux that I keep coming back to years into this ship is that they’re complimentary opposites, which I think this is another example of. While I am on team ‘Kylo is going to be bad at Supreme Leadering’, I don’t think that necessarily means he’s bad at all leadership and military-related things ever. Because he’s not, it’s just that what he’s good at vs what Hux is good at are different things and there’s more to Supreme Leadering than a military operation

(Opinions lie beyond here! Read at your own discretion!)

First, I will say I’m basing more of this on TFA’s considerations than TLJ’s because TLJ suffers from Good Guys Need To Win syndrome really badly and that was honestly my biggest complaint about it, even immediately after coming out of the theatre. This is far from a rare occurrence and many sw villains have been essentially neutered by this (e.g. Thrawn in Rebels; one of the greatest Imperial strategists sort of succeeding like once ever and otherwise being repeatedly outsmarted by a child for most of the series). Hux was the most obvious victim of it (tbh I don’t think Kylo was ooc at all in TLJ), but I also think Snoke got hit a little too. Basically RJ painted the Resistance into such a tight corner that the only way he could get them out was to make the FO, which had apparently just recently claimed a big victory, look like complete morons

Personally, I’ve headcanoned Hux being useless in TLJ as a result of his repressed post-Starkiller breakdown. He just lost his life’s work and his boss physically abused him in public over it at least once, so it adds up, for me. Thus most of this comes from TFA and the pre-TLJ novelizations. But anyways. I’ll say now if you’re hard on the useless Hux train, you’ll probably disagree with every point below here lmao

So the thing about Kylo is that he seems good at small-scale operations. Give him a single squadron or a small group (e.g. his Knights) and I think he can get the thing done effectively, provided his emotional state remains stable (which, with him, is a pretty big concern). As some pointed out in the notes on the post that inspired this, he does do alright on Takodana. The mistake he makes is in taking the unknown quantity that is Rey as opposed to the known quantity that is BB-8, though in his defence, there’s no way he could’ve known just how badly that would go. And perhaps he did so partially because the Resistance had arrived and he didn’t have time to find BB-8 before it got messy when she was right there, so I’ll give him that one. He does make some other strategic mistakes, such as in the snow fight when he makes the mistake of underestimating and toying with Finn, but perhaps we can chock that up to his emotional state, him actively bleeding out at the time, and the fact that everyone seems to underestimate Finn. Still, I think he’s largely successful at small-scale stuff, as long as he’s relatively calm (note: he is not calm nor successful for the entirety of TLJ, aside from killing Snoke, which he had help with in the form of a distraction , so I won’t really go into it. It is the most cunning we see from him in any piece of SW media, but it appears to me to be an outlying example. It’s also the only time he’s ever managed to succeed at something he set out to do, aside from killing Han, which was only emotionally difficult, not mechanically so. But anyways)

As an aside, I also don’t think the main argument of Kylo’s family is enough of a claim to show he’s a good leader. Some go so far as to suggest leadership is genetic by discussing Padme, Anakin (who was Not Great, but did succeed sometimes), etc. but that’s not a thing so I’m not going to. He could have studied them, and maybe he did, but it’s not ‘in his blood’. Leia may have exposed him to some politics, but it’s hard to say. Last Shot suggests he spent most of his time with Han when he was little and we don’t know how young he was when he went to Luke, where he would’ve seen nothing. He could’ve been sent away at 5-6 and never even seen the Senate, or Leia could’ve brought him to Senate meetings regularly so he could learn until he was sent away at 15 or something, but as of now, there’s no proof either way. I mention this because of its popularity, but I don’t personally find the argument convincing either way and I don’t believe we know enough to say for sure

Now Hux, Hux is good at large-scale operations. He’s in charge of the Stormtrooper program, which he adapted from previous methods and has had exactly one aberration slip through the cracks ever. He commands the Finalizer and was chosen to work at the same level as Snoke’s personal apprentice, the two of them sharing second-in-command to Snoke (who appears to do fuck all). He’s also in charge of Starkiller and though there is some debate as to how involved he was with it, he certainly oversaw its construction and usage. Lastly, he also oversees the FO’s entire suite of technological advancement projects, according to TLJ. So Hux already has a lot on his plate that he’s managing and appears to be doing at least reasonably well at these things. Hux can command and organize and I don’t think anyone can dispute that

In terms of flaws, he fails to stop Finn and Poe from escaping partially because Poe is That Good and partially because he overcomplicates it, which tends to be the flaw of all big-picture thinkers (also, some luck on their side, considering they both survived the crash. iirc Poe didn’t in the original script, but Oscar asked JJ to please not make him die this time. So perhaps a bit of Good Guys Need To Win too). Small-scale fucks him up because he makes mountains out of molehills and that’s where he’s weakest, as seen also when Poe comes in with a single ship in TLJ, with the chase of the Raddus, etc. He’s capable of running large-scale operations, as I mentioned above, and while there’s debate on whether or not he’s a good strategist, I tend to lean towards ‘a bit above average’ for no other reason than it feels right to me, but there isn’t really any definitive evidence either way. He is also arguably the least responsible for Starkiller’s destruction; yes, there was a weak point, but it was shielded well and unavoidable to have. Phasma lowering the shields and Kylo not finding the explosives due to family problems are both more responsible than he is, imo

(Hux’s other fatal flaw is his underestimation and low opinion of the Force, which will most likely be what kills him regardless of how things play out, but that’s not terribly relevant to this discussion so)

So, with all that in mind: Supreme Leadering. What does that actually entail? Well, it is large-scale, which gives Hux the advantage based on my arguments, and even if we accept he is completely useless at strategy, there’s just so much more to it than that. The Order is now in control of the galaxy at large and needs to manage it, something Snoke most likely would have delegated based on what little we know of him. There’s making and maintaining trade routes, there’s managing supply lines, there’s bureaucracy, there’s the prioritizing of projects, there’s lawmaking, there’s the managing of staff, citizens, etc. This is essentially nation building we’re talking about here, except on a galactic scale. It’s complex, it’s tedious, and it is a massive undertaking, the kind of thing that Hux seems like the type to masturbate thinking about, given how he appears to thrive when taking care of large projects and also his power fantasies

And when it comes to Kylo? The thing is is that even if he could do it well, even if he could look at the big picture and effectively manage people and all of it, I don’t think he cares to

So not only do I think Kylo is ill-suited to something that large, as I originally discussed, I more importantly think he would hate it. Kylo hating paperwork may be fanon, to my knowledge, but it’s one of those things that no one ever really contests because it fits his character. Kylo is not patient. Kylo does not care about the bigger picture. Kylo is self-centered, as in he is focused only on his own interests, not those of anyone around him, even within an organization he claims to support. “Personal interests”, anyone?

In the TFA novel, it’s noted that Hux refrains from yelling at his staff even when he wants to because he knows it will only stress them out and make them sloppy. Kylo is known to violently attack those under him when he’s upset. So even if Kylo has the troops’ fear, Hux has their loyalty (the TLJ novel disagrees with some of this, most notably concerning the older Imperials, but tbh I doubt JJ is taking that anywhere so I’m ignoring it for now. They’re relics of a dying age, anyways. If I end up being wrong, though, I will adjust haha). Pablo Hidalgo explained on his now-defunct twitter, when asked why Kylo didn’t just rip the location of the Resistance base from Poe’s mind, that the reasoning is that he only wanted the map; the Resistance was Hux’s problem. This is in spite of the fact that the Resistance is the FO’s problem in general and Kylo is not only part of the FO, but a high-ranking member. There is also the failure on Crait, which was legitimately embarrassing, and while, yes, that was largely due to his emotional state, Kylo is in a state of emotional crisis for most of his screentime. So, not exactly a great defending argument. I also strongly suspect that will be a continuing trend with him until his inevitable death and/or redemption

These are not signs of a good leader. I also can’t see Kylo suddenly being interested in building a government, even if he could do it. Because he’s going to be focused on getting revenge on Rey for rejecting him, eliminating any fledgling Jedi Order she may or may not be attempting to make, and possibly a plot with his mother. Kylo’s motives have not and do not align with building a nation and at no point does he even seem to care about that in any capacity that involves actually doing something about it

So. This got really long but the main points here are that Supreme Leadering and military strategy are different skills, Hux and Kylo are good at different things (large-scale vs small-scale), and that even if Kylo could Supreme Leader effectively, he most likely doesn’t care to meanwhile Hux seems like he’d actually be pretty good at it (and, even if you think he wouldn’t be, at least he gives a fuck). So uh, yeah. There’s my significantly more than 2 cents and if you actually read this whole thing, then applause for you because it’s longer than the last fic I posted XD

#I really hope this doesn't come off as aggressive or anything #I really just had thoughts I thought people might be interested in lmao #but yeah anyways hux and kylo are good and bad at different things and also politics exist that's my thesis haha #kylux #kylo ren #general hux #meta #long post #shut up nerd #text

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r0sequarks · 6 years

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Dumbledore is totally not a Gryffindor and I spent an hour writing an essay about it because i am a giant nerd so check under the cut if you want to read my really well thought out conspiracy theory

Dumbledore is not a Gryffindor. While he does have courage and bravery, so does he he value hard work and loyalty, and is intelligent and witty - having the traits does not define being part of a house, as seen by Hermione Granger being the smartest witch of her age but still a Gryffindor - no, it is what drives you, and what is at the core of your being, and Dumbledore shows no signs of being driven by bravery. While he does frequently fight, he prefers to take a more passive role, manipulating others into fighting for him, acting as a leader over others. Throughout the series, he takes the role of a chessmaster, placing Harry so that he can develop as the means to kill Voldemort, even though theoretically it may be within Dumbledore's means to slay the man himself. Above all else, he is not brave, but smart - and not smart in a studious manner, but 'street smart', although he certainly is well-learned. His primary intelligence lies in manipulation, in resourcefulness, leadership, cunning, ambition. Albus Dumbledore is undoubtedly a Slytherin based on his actions, which leads to the question - why does his Chocolate Frog card say he is in Gryffindor.

Dumbledore is undoubtedly in a position of power, especially within Hogwarts. At the time we discover he was allegedly in Gryffindor, he has been headmaster for twenty years, and has been teaching at Hogwarts for over seventy. He is one of the most well known and respected wizards, and one of the older, and given that two world wars and one wizarding war have passed since he was at Hogwarts, it is likely few remain who remember his actually attending the school. It is well within his means to change records, and to claim that he was in Gryffindor, and unlikely anyone would say otherwise, as his house in school is ultimately a minor matter for anyone who doesn't currently attend Hogwarts. From there comes the question of why - why would Dumbledore lie about his house? Well, from there, we look to none other than Dolores Umbridge.

Dolores Umbridge is the most hated character in the entire series. Everyone despises her. When faced with the question of who is worse - Voldemort, who is trying to commit genocide, and Umbridge, who while incredibly abusive is not a murderer, most need a moment to think about it. That's because evil on the scale of Voldemort is difficult to comprehend, while a bad teacher and abuse are something most everyone can understand and relate to. It is hard to know what to do, against massive evil - it is the minor evils that draw our attention. When we focus on systemic oppression, most often we focus on acts, and even better, individuals. So, to draw the focus on to a group like the Death Eaters, it can be easier to use a smaller, more relateable target - like school bullies. There is a mental association commonly present that Slytherin is Evil, and Gryffindor good - that Slytherin are junior Death Eaters. This connects simple school bullies to the massive, unimaginable evil - and draws the students, especially Gryffindor students, in to the mindset of child soldiers early on.

This also has the opposite effect - framing Slytherin students as evil gets rid of their chance to escape their families, and furthers the push of these students in to the ranks of the Death Eaters. If this was done purposefully, then Dumbledore must have willingly been able to sacrifice the minds and even the lives of children, to turn other children in to soldiers, all in an attempt to bring down Voldemort. This Machiavellian scheme seems unfitting to a man who plays the role of kind mentor, and who impresses the point of the power of love, but it is not without more prescient canonical evidence. Dumbledore leaves the young Harry with his Aunt and Uncle, despite the fact he could quite easily place him anywhere without question. Following that, he repeatedly sends Harry back to live with them, even knowing that it is an incredibly abusive environment. The argument can be made for the protective spell - but Hogwarts is just as protected. Dumbledore made the choice, to send Harry back instead of keeping him in Hogwarts, because he believed that it was necessary. Dumbledore has been shown to put the greater good over the safety of a child, and so these actions fit entirely within precedent.

It is of course possible that none of this is true - that he was a Gryffindor, that the Slutherin/Gryffindor divide is perfectly natural, and that there was no master plan. After all, we only truly see Dumbledore late in life, and the hat sees the present, not the future. Manipulation can be learned, and bravery and courage can take way to reason, especially over a century. The theory is based on the fact that DUmbledore was a Slytherin in his school years, after all, and not that he is one now. It all comes down to one phrase - the greater good.

Inscribed on the gates of Nurmengard, the prison which Gellert Grindelwald built and later inhabited, is the phrase, for the greater good. It is a phrase which defines Grindelwald's philosophy - to do evil for the greater good of the world - and one which Dumbledore himself coined. The Dumbledore we see glimpses of in an early life is decidedly even more of a Slytherin than the modern man, because he is defined by his ambition. While some say it is the fault of his infatuation with Grindelwald, Dumbledore readily plans out an attempt to overthrow the Wizarding World and form a benevolent dictatorship over the world - admittedly, for the greater good. This is an undeniable sign of his Slytherin nature, and provides even more evidence for the cover up - Dumbledore doesn't want anyone to know that he was friends with Grindelwald, how close he became to being a dark lord himself, as it would discredit him as the savior of the wizarding world and as a mentor to Harry. The friendship is one of Dumbledore's best kept secrets, as shown by the book Skeeter released following his death, revealing their relationship, something that few of Dumbledore's allies were able to believe, and that Harry only bought given evidence. The life and lies indeed.

Slytherin becomes Gryffindor, and the history books of the modern age become much cleaner - the grand hero who defeated Grindelwald was not his friend, and it is Gryffindors who save the day against the evils of Slytherin. Dumbledore, ever the Slytherin, is nothing but not resourceful. The lie protects him, forges Gryffindor in to a receptacle of young soldiers to be in the war, and even gives cover for his spies in the Death Eaters. The view of Slytherin as evil becomes effectively true - not by any inherent nature, but because people fill the roles in which they have been cast. Continuing on with this belief does nothing but further Dumbledore's manipulations of events.

Dumbledore is not the villain - and the revelation that he was a Slytherin, and the extent of his manipulations, doesn't change that fact. But, then again, neither is he the hero. The problems that are faced in the series are, inevitably, his fault - and it is only through him that they are fixed. This simplifies things, and removes the extent of certain actors agencies, but it is not entirely inaccurate. The similarities between Tom Riddle and Harry Potter extend well beyond sharing part of a soul. They are both orphans, raised in abusive muggle environments, who suddenly find themselves to be wizards. While it is not stated, it is most likely that Riddle was not sent back to the orphanage over the summer - in fact, given his in depth knowledge of the castle and its secrets, it's probable he stayed at Hogwarts for these vacations. What makes Riddle a villain is not, as what can be claimed, that he was a child of rape, but that he was someone with no power who quite suddenly became one of the most powerful in the world. With nothing to grant him humility, his arrogance grew, leading to his seeking more power, through the Horcruxes. It is not to say that Harry would have gone the same road - but it so easily could be. In the end, Harry is a pureblood, and he is a very wealthy one at that. He has immense power, and as they say - power corrupts. There are two factors that are the most prevelant at seperating Harry from power - the fact he lives with the Dursleys, and the fact he is a Gryffindor. The Dursleys, through their abuse, remind Harry of suffering, of what it is like to not be on top, something key in the development of empathy. And the reason he stressed that he wasn't a Slytherin? Because Slytherin is evil, and Gryffindor good.

That is not to say that without Dumbledore, Harry would have turned in to a second Voldemort. That is an unreasonable extreme. More likely, however, is that he would have turned in to a second James. James Potter was, ultimately, a good person, but he was also an arrogant bully, and it was only trying to win the love of Lily Evans that reversed that. A Harry more like James may have died at Voldemort's hands, too self confident, or not nearly as versed in the powers of love. Or, perhaps, he could have defeated Voldemort, but become corrupted by the power and fame. This isn't an apocalyptic ending, but it's an ending that ensures the status quo remains in place, whereas the Harry that we know, given that power and attention, is undoubtedly trying to change and fix the world.

Is it worth it? Is it worth putting a child through such pain, to better ensure his survival when he is pit against a genocidal maniac, and ultimately, to change the world? It is not something a Gryffindor would ever be able to do. But, the world needs Slytherins for a reason - for the Greater Good.

#harry potter #meta #harry potter meta #hp meta #hp #albus dumbledore #dumbledore #gryffindor #slytherin #gellert grindelwald #voldemort

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farkenshnoffingottom · 6 years

Text

Ace Discourse, Here We Go

So. *rubs hands together* I decided it’s time for me to break into the discourse. Largely inspired by recent happenings on @highkingfen‘s blog. I’m going to bring some theory into this so we can understand why people are so invested in this.

But first, since the first line of attack always seems to be aimed at people’s identities, I’m gonna go ahead and state mine right now: I’m transmasc nonbinary, gray aroace, and sensually, aesthetically, and platonically attracted to all genders. I’m also not able bodied, so I want you to understand the physical toll getting involved in this debate means for me, so that you know I am invested in this discussion. I apologize in advance for any errors, although I think I caught them all. (Long post, so I put it under the cut)

I will use queer in this post because I am queer.* Let’s start with some basic politics of sex, then work our way into queer politics, and then bring it back around to aceness.

In 1984, anthropologist Gayle Rubin wrote an essay called “Thinking Sex: Notes for a Radical Theory of the Politics of Sexuality,” in which she argued that feminism could not take on sexuality theoretically or politically (she was writing in the midst of the feminist porn wars), but that we needed a distinct politics of sexuality. The part that strikes me as most relevant here is when she describes her theory of the sexual hierarchy.

(While this does not include asexuality, it is fair to say that asexuality can fall behind some of these walls too, because it is not accepted. Underlying the category of “good” sex is the assumption that people will be having sex, so asexual people are a threat to this social order that requires that people have “good” sex to reproduce itself.) I highly recommend you read this article, but I am mainly using it here for the visual. Walls are high, and I would say most people cannot just scale a wall all by themselves. So the way we get around this is to throw each other under the bus, to mix my metaphors. In order to cross the line into “good” and acceptable behavior, people have to step on others, push them further down, to advance themselves (instead of, say, just destroying the walls). It looks a little like “we’re exactly like you, we just love each other, we want to get married, we want to be normal. They’re the ones having public sex, turning tricks on the streets, flaunting their sexuality, etc.”** Anything that buys into the normative narrative gets you a little closer to the “good” side of the wall.

Now, I’m sort of rambling, but I promise I have a point. That point is that while asexuality may seem diametrically opposed from Rubin’s list of “bad” sex, it actually is theoretically and politically very similar. Society needs people to have sex to keep itself alive, but it just wants people to have the “right” sex. In a biopolitical way (see part five of the book linked), queer sex is just as threatening as no sex at all. The state is highly invested in controlling their population and regulating its function. This is why "Hyposexual Desire Disorder” appears in the DSM IV (It now appears split into separate disorders for males and females, which I won’t even get to, and now contains the caveat that it isn’t a disorder if someone identifies as asexual). So, improvement, right? Not quite. It still fits into the long history of queer identities and people being pathologized by medical and psychiatric authorities. Our cultural institutions acknowledge the danger asexuality poses to the social order alongside its other queer counterparts.

So, I’m counting that as my theoretical evidence that ace people belong in the queer community and moving on a little bit. One of the critiques I see of including ace people in the community is that asexuals aren’t discriminated against enough to be counted. First, see my very brief discussion of pathologization above. Second, the “cishet asexuals pass as heterosexual, so they don’t experience oppression” argument misses the point. I assume most people in this community understand why heteronormativity hurts. The assumption that you are straight when you’re not hurts. And that’s exactly what this is. The assumption that you’re straight, and that you are sexually attracted to people. And it hurts, except now it’s our supposed community that’s telling us we’re straight even after we say over and over that we’re not. Asexual is by definition not heterosexual. Three, the microagressions: lol you’re asexual, does that mean you reproduce like a plant? Don’t worry, you’ll find the right person some day (remind anyone of “but wait how do lesbians even have sex?” or “don’t worry, you’ll find the right (‘opposite’ gender) one day”?). We can acknowledge that microagressions are bad in other areas, so why can’t we admit that it’s true for ace-spec people too? Four, “corrective” therapy and/or sexual assault happen to us because of our orientations too. Even though I could go on and on, I’ll stop there. Just check my “ace discourse” tag for more. Or don’t. It’s exhausting stuff.

Another critique I see is that this somehow plays into the desexualization of gay people. People who are attracted to their own gender will be hypersexualized or desexualized by straight society as their politics call for.*** It is not asexuals’ fault that people cannot conceptualize the difference between asexuality and desexualization. Asexuality is an identity. Desexualizing someone is an act of perception and political understanding.

Additionally, asexuality is newer (not in concept, but in public visibility) than other queer orientations, and yet no one seems to want to remember that each of those past orientations had to go through the same thing, fighting to be seen as real and not pathological or unhealthy. Sure, we don’t have a legal fight in the same way that homosexual and trans people do, but that is mostly because a lot of people have no idea we exist. I’m going to point you to AVEN for an asexual history, because they’ll do a much better job than me.

Finally, simply this: it is not your job to decide who counts as queer “enough” to be in the community. Another thing we tend to forget when having this argument is that identities shift all the time. It’s politically important when dealing with the straight world to be able to say “it’s not a phase!” But sometimes, your identities shift, and that’s okay. I thought all sorts of things about who I was before I figured myself out, and I’ll probably end up somewhere a little different from where I am now. It is not so cut and dry. People can come out while they’re still questioning, and then realize that they were wrong and are really something else. Some people can be solid in an identity for years, and then start to think maybe there’s something more to it. And that is okay. What’s the point of saying we’re queer if we are just recreating the exact same structures and hierarchies and expectations that we faced in straight society? There is no need for gatekeeping here. I realized I was ace only two years ago, and started to question whether I was aromantic only a year ago. And guess what. I’m still not entirely sure who I am. But that’s fine. It’s okay to explore yourself. You don’t have to be locked into one category forever. Asexuals are not straight, and they are and should be welcome in queer spaces.

*While this should probably be covered in another post, I want to point out how intentional my use of the word is. Queer and LGBT are different concepts, in my mind. See my “queer discourse” tag for some history and theory that others have contributed. Also, read Queers Read This! to get a sense of the approach I take. For now, I will just say that queer has a historical and political meaning that grew as it diverged from the lesbian and gay movement (which was half-heartedly tacking the B and the T to the end of their name) in the ‘90s. Queer as a concept has a much higher capacity to be inclusive of ace-spec identities, because it defines itself and prides itself in its difference from the norm rather than its attempts at being normal. **For a much better discussion of this concept than I can provide here, Michael Warner’s book The Trouble With Normal is excellent, and I highly recommend it.

***Besides, the mainstream movement intentionally desexualized themselves to be acceptable to the straights. The more mainstream turn in our politics was essentially to de-sex gayness. That’s where things such as “love is love” and the gay marriage court cases came from. These were very effective political attempts to play into the normative “good” sex narrative, and distance themselves from all those bad queers doing the things on the other side of Rubin’s walls. Again, I’m going to point you to The Trouble With Normal, even though it’s almost twenty years old, because it just so brilliantly addresses all of this.

ETA: Michael Warner does talk about sex as being essential to queerness, specifically because he is writing his book in response to the desexualization of gay politics. I do not read this as an argument that asexual people aren’t queer, because I don’t think he is trying to account for our existence in this book, and it seems likely that he wasn’t thinking about us at all (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because it’s not what he set out to do with his book, and I’m fine with that. You’ve gotta narrow down your scope to something manageable, and he already has a huge topic to address).

#long post #ace discourse #queer discourse #queer #ace #e's endless rambling #i'm tired and in pain #but i had to get this out of my system #I'm too exhausted for this bs #gatekeeping #happy pride month everybody #with just a hint of sarcasm #and frustration #i don't know if any of this made sense #but i hope it does something meaningful for someone somewhere #aromantic #asexuality #asexual #The Discourse™

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dahniwitchoflight · 6 years

Text

I kind of wanna make a little text flowchart of my thoughts for how I came to the basic conclusion of the Homestuck classes that I got

so here you go lol if you were curious about my rough train of thought surrounding things

basically, start with some lovely canon statements:

-Prince/+Bard are Male Exclusive Destruction Classes

-Thief/+Rogue are Female Inclined Stealing Classes (Broadly, Relocation)

Witch is Active, Seer is Passive, Lord is Male/Most Active, Muse is Female/Most Passive

"The most active class out of the 12 standard classes is female, the two most passive ones are both male."

“The active passive scale is tinted slightly male active leaning and slightly female passive leaning”

those last two together I basically interpret to mean that out of the 12 standard classes, there is an equal amount of Male associated or Female associated classes on both the active and passive sides, Lord and Muse having no equivalents besides each other, are the ones to tip the scales onto each side

then, make some conclusions based off of that interpretation

Homestuck has a lot of equal and equivalent pair systems where everything has an equal and opposite balancing factor, it’s a major theme, Creation/Destruction, Active/Passive, Green/Red, Cherubs, Benevolence/Malevolence, Black/White, the Taoist themes of YinYang like duality in general permeates throughout, especially in the classpect system

so two canon Male Exclusive Destruction classes means two Female Exclusive Creation classes must exist, as the most obvious conclusion, and just because of the active passive gender balancing factor

of the following classes left: Witch, Heir, Knight, Page, Maid, Sylph, Mage, Seer

the only ones that even can be Female Exclusive are Witch, Maid and Sylph

and as they also have to be a pair associated with Creation to match Prince/Bard, the only viable options are Maid and Sylph, as both classes associated with healing and creation, Witch being otherwise associated with Change and Manipulation (and I personally see Maid as Active versus Sylph passive, but it doesn’t matter beyond this)

so -Maid/+Sylph

next, having two canon Female leaning classes in a pair must mean the existence of two Male leaning classes also in a pair, as well because of the active passive gender balancing factor

of the following classes left: Witch, Heir, Knight, Page, Mage, Seer

Witch can’t (no male examples), Mage and Seer are neutral in role and name and have 1 male 1 female each so it’s unlikely

so that leaves Heir, Knight and Page

and again, like Thief/Rogue, they must be a pair of male leaning classes

Knight/Page are again the obvious pick as the Horse Classes, their defining shared trait, if at least nothing else can be agreed upon, is Horse.

and I personally see it as -Knight/+Page, but before we make that assumption, let’s remember that the number of Male and Female Actives and Passives must be Equal in order to match the canon statement

and so far we have:

Active: Prince(M), Thief (F), Witch(F), Creation (F), Horse (M)

Passive: Bard(M), Rogue (F), Seer(?), Creation (F), Horse (M)

leaving Heir(3M and 0F) and Mage(1M and 1F)

now here’s where we come to the first assumption that doesn’t have any specific canon confirmation statement, just the whole comic and introspections we get from reading:

Mage/+Seer are a pair under the knowledge function, a bold assumption I know :p

and since Seer is confirmed Passive, Mage is the Active half, giving the last active space to Mage, and forcibly leaving Heir with no other option except to grab that last 12th Passive space

so we get:

Active: Prince(M), Thief (F), Witch(F), Creation (F), Horse (M), Mage(?)

Passive: Bard(M), Rogue (F), Heir(M), Creation (F), Horse (M), Seer(?)

now, Witch and Heir have been assigned F and M respectively, on the account of there being no M Witch or F Heir examples, so Witch is either F Exclusive or Leaning, and Heir is either M Exclusive or Leaning to match

as well as both Mage and Seer have 1 example for each gender, so just on example alone they have no gender lean

BUT, again, we know that the amount of Active classes must have an equal amount of male and female associated, same the passive classes must have equal amounts of male and female examples

and so far, we have 3 Active F, and 2 Active M, meaning Mage must lean towards the male side of things in order to equally tip the balance in favor of Male active

same thing for Seer and Female, as currently passive has 3 Male and 2 Female

Active: Prince(M), Thief(F), Witch(F assumed), Creation(F), Horse(M), Mage(M)

Passive: Bard(M), Rogue(F), Heir(M assumed), Creation(F), Horse(M), Seer(F)

and now we revisit a canon statement again

"The most active class out of the 12 standard classes is female, the two most passive ones are both male."

this is where we get into more nebulous territory of assigning different levels of activity to different classes, because it’s a much more personal interpretation here

BUT I can say, that 2 Most Passive classes are explicitly Male

Bard is obviously one of them

and either Heir, Page or Knight is the Most Male/Passive class

now to go through some information in order to make a decision here

Heirs are inheritors, they often have favorable things fall into their lap or given to them or are led around by others. Then also suggested to be Passive in nature by Hussie when talking about the nature of Prospit attracting Passives like John

Knights are called Warriors, Exploiters, and specifically are a class that leaves the thinking and tactics to other classes, suggesting at least an Action/Fighting focused class. Then also suggested to be Active in nature by Hussie when talking about the nature of Derse attracting Actives like Dave.

Page is never called explicitly Active or Passive, but their one notable trait is “one of the most eventually powerful, but it takes a while and patience to get there” and are commonly read by myself and fandom as Passive

at the very least, I think a distinction can be made that it can’t be the Knight, as it of the three is the most likely to take the active spot

leaving us with this:

Active: Prince(M), Thief(F), Witch(F), Creation(F), Knight(M), Mage(M)

Passive: Bard(M), Rogue(F), Heir(M), Creation(F), Page(M), Seer(F)

surprisingly though, the one thing I am the most flexible on in terms of Activity is Maid/Sylph, they are definitely a pair, but I think there is some room for argument for whether or not Sylph or Maid is the active one in that pair

both maids and sylphs heal, (themselves and others) both Aradia and Aranea were focused on being the caretakers of the realm, Aradia through death and the dreambubbles, Aranea through her plan to take over the alpha timeline

Boths maids and sylphs too all have connections to enjoying their roles as spectators, but sylphs more so in that regard (both Jane and Porrim were def not content to just sit out and wait) Jane and Porrim together do seem to be more action oriented than say Aranea and Kanaya, but their are exceptions like Kanaya and her chainsaw and Aradia preferring to housekeep the end times

but robo aradia has quite the passive called attitude of complacency during her inversion, whereas living aradia seems much more excited to go do things and watch stuff happen in the bubbles

for me personally, the scale is tipped enough that I can comfortably place Maid as Active and Sylph as Passive

so that’s basically how I got to here:

Active: Prince(M), Thief(F), Witch(F), Maid(F), Knight(M), Mage(M)

Passive: Bard(M), Rogue(F), Heir(M), Sylph(F), Page(M), Seer(F)

then, as for the scale itself from Most Active to Most Passive

I keep going back to this, keep redoing it over and over, but I always seem to eventually come back to the same interpretation over time, eventually always gravitating back towards it as it always seems like the correct one even when I try to look at things through new angles

Lord: Thief / Prince / Witch / Knight / Maid / Mage -/

/- Page / Sylph / Seer / Rogue / Bard / Heir :Muse

firstly because of the "the most Active class after Lord is female, and the two most Passive classes after Muse are male” also sort of implies that the class after the most active female class is a male class, and the the class after the two most passive male classes is a female class, because if it weren’t hussie would have said something like “the next two active classes are female” or “the last 3 passive classes are male”

meaning Prince had to be where it is, and of Bard/Heir/Page two had to be the most passive, but in working with the numbers, I figured Bard had to at least be that 2nd last passive slot

and I did a lot of thinking of whether or not Page and Heir were in the spots that they were, but considering Page’s nature as “indeterminate activity levels” and Heir’s nature as “quite passive everything pushes them forward/gives them stuff” it felt appropriate to make Page the most active passive class, fitting it’s indeterminate classification, and Heir as most passive, fitting whats known about Heirs

then using Prince/Bard/Heir/Page/Lord/Muse as the pattern keys i tried to figure it out using numerical patterns and what felt right overall

Thief as most active fits, and Rogue as the next passive after Bard also fits, both contributing to a certain pattern

Witch after Prince fitted Heir after Bard, then Maid and Sylph as flipped placements of Prince/Bard seemed to fit both classes natures as being closer to the middle line, then finally Knight Maid Mage feeling like a comfortable mirror of Page Sylph Seer completed the set

so this scale fits to me, but even better, its the only scale I could find where certain numerical patterns all fit together

so in this scale, each inversion pair is 6 Spaces away from eachother exactly like this:

Thief/Page = 6

Prince/Sylph = 6

Witch/Seer = 6

Knight/Rogue = 6

Maid/Bard = 6

Mage/heir = 6

and each active/passive pair is either 9 or 3 spaces away like this:

Thief/Rogue = 9

Prince/Bard = 9

Witch/Heir = 9

Knight/Page = 3

Maid/Sylph = 3

Mage/Seer = 3

and fittingly, the 3 pairs with 9 all have a clear disparity between which is the active and which was the passive in the pair, and the ones with only 3 spaces between all had a less clear disparity in which one was active or passive in the text as well

so yeah, that was my thought process and this is my final outcome:

Scale:

(Active) Lord: Thief / Prince / Witch / Knight / Maid / Mage -/

/+ Page / Sylph / Seer / Rogue / Bard / Heir :Muse (Passive)

Pairings:

-Lord/+Muse, -Thief/+Rogue, -Prince/+Bard, -Witch/+Heir, -Knight/+Page, -Maid/+Sylph, -Mage/+Seer

Gender Lean/Inclination/Trend:

Male: -Lord, -Prince, -Mage, -Knight and +Page, -Bard, +Heir

Female: +Muse, +Sylph, +Seer, +Rogue and -Thief, -Maid, -Witch

Going through the thought process again certainly helps these things, but I’m so picky about little things, that this time I tried to go back to basics, just figure it out from the few canon statements that we do have and see where it goes, and here I am

#SBURB #Active or Passive #Homestuck #I need to just keep this one around and reread it anytime i start wanting to re do my active passive scale again #it never ends

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singularityy2 · 3 years

Text

[HONEY FF]

┌────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ──────┐

chapter eight

COMBAT TRAINING PT.2

└────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ──────┘

(Episode 7&8 combined)

THE BATTLE BETWEEN A and D was nothing but tense. Her foot tapped against the floor nervously, the sight of her friends getting hurt not making the situation any better. The moment Bakugo stretches his arm forward and pulled on the metal piece of his costume, her heart dropped.

"He's going to kill him." All Might hears the girl's words, worry settling in his own stomach. The cameras got foggy as Deku is nowhere in sight.

"Sir, you have to stop them! He's going to end up killing him." Yuno exclaims as she was now behind All Might, Kirishima turned his head to look at the lavender haired girl who was worriedly looking up at the pro hero.

"That Bakugo's really crazy! He's gonna kill him!" Kirishima added in as they both stared at the Pro Hero who kept looking at the screen with clenched teeth.

"No..."

"Young Bakugo, the next time you use that, I'll stop the fight, and your team with lose." All Might says into the mic as Bakugo turns to look at the camera.

"To attack omg such a large scale inside is inviting the destruction of the stronghold you should be protecting. That is a foolish plan for both heroes and villains! You will lose a lot of points for it!" All might exclaims as Bakugo's shoulders shake in anger. The camera went foggy once more the moment Bakugo launches himself over to Deku.

Yuno looked from screen to screen, the sight of her friend getting beat up not being all too flattering. The comments that were going around the room only made her more anxious. After words had been thrown at each other, they began to run towards each other.

"I said, this looks bad! Sir!" Kirishima exclaims from beside her as All Might once again ignored them.

"Both of you, sto-" All Might began to say when Deku began to talk into his own ear piece, her eyes switched to the other screen, as Uraraka held onto one of the pillars. The pieces of broken rubble began shooting towards Iida who was just trying to block it when suddenly, Uraraka had already gotten to her goal.

"Hero.. Hero team wins!"

"You okay?" Yuno questions Uraraka who was on the other side of All Might. Uraraka looked at her with droopy eyes, sending her friend a shrug. While the rest of the class was answering questions, Yuno was busy worrying about Uraraka. Yuno turned to look at Momo Yaoyorozu, 1 of the four students admitted to the hero course based on recommendations. Her eyes trailed over to Bakugo, a distant look in his crimson eyes. The faint smell of what seemed to be caramel met her senses.

"All right everyone, let's change locations and start the second match. Tackle this training after thinking about what we just talked about."

"Yes, sir!"

It was their turn to be up next. Her team are heroes while team I are the villains.

The pair were inside the building as Yuno crouches down, her hair growing long as a singular strand of hair went into the floor as she could pinpoint where the opposite team was.

"One in the hall on the north side of the fourth floor. The other is somewhere on the same floor.. They're barefoot." Yuno says as she stands up, brushing her hands together to get rid of any invisible dust on her hands.. "The invisible one is coming to ambush and capture us, right?"

"Most likely." Todoroki says back to her as he turns to look at her.

"Go outside. It's dangerous." Todoroki says as Yuno narrows her eyes at him, her wings quickly springing out her back. They flutter, waiting to lift her at any moment.

"I'm sure our opponents intend to fight a defensive battle.. but that does not matter to me." Todoroki says as he places his palm on the wall, the walls quickly turning to ice as the atmosphere gets cold.

"You're not getting rid of me." Yuno whispers to Todoroki who quickly turns to look at her.

"It's dangerous. Go outside." Todoroki says as Yuno grabs onto his shoulder. The half-half boy freezes.

"It's fine. I won't touch the floor, I'll just be cold." Yuno says to him as he sighs, letting the girl put her hand on his shoulder. They continue to walk as her hair grows as it wraps around the invisible girl. Yuno takes out a crystal and cuts her hair to keep the girl in place. They slowly approach the room as Yuno's hair wraps around the boy in a quick second. The two walk into the room quietly.

"You can move if you want, but the skin on your feet will come off, so you won't be able to fight your best." Todoroki says as Ojiro stayed in place.

"No hard feelings." Yuno smiles over to Ojiro as the pair slowly make their way to the paper-mâché weapon.

"You can retrieve it, Yuno." Todoroki says as Yuno quickly smiles, placing her hand on one of the parts that didn't have ice on it.

"Hero team wins!"

"You can melt the ice right, Todoroni?" Yuno says as she placed her feet on the ice floor.

"Todoroni?" Todoroki questions.

"Your name reminds me of macaroni." Yuno whispers over to him as he scrunches his nose and places his hand on the paper-mâché weapon, as heat erupts from his hand, the rest of the building goes back to normal.

"I'll go find the girl." Yuno says to Todoroki as she makes her way out the room and towards where she heard the girl.

"Hot, hot, hot." Hagakure exclaims as she tries to jump away from the hot liquid.

"Sorry about that!" Yuno exclaims as she removes her hair from the girl and makes it into a bomb. She throws it into the air and quickly puts her hand into a fist and presses her thumb on the side of her index finger, the hair quickly disappearing.

"Here." Yuno says as she gives Hagakure her shoes and gloves.

"Thank you!" She says as Yuno smiles at what she thought was the invisible girl and quickly leaves.

Yuno makes it outside to see Todoroki leaving.

"Wait up, Todo!" Yuno exclaims as Todoroki turns around with a look of surprise, waiting for the girl to jog over to him.

"Your Quirk's really cool." Yuno compliments, sending the half-half boy a small smile in which he looks away, a look of embarrassment covering his face.

A giggle escapes past her lips, realizing what she had done.

"Aw! Did you get shy?" Yuno teases him, elbowing the taller boy who looked away from her shyly.

"Come on, Todo! We have to see the next fight."

The other battles went by with ease, as the combat battles had now finished.

"Good work everyone! We didn't have any major injuries other than Young Midoriya, either! You guys took this on seriously! You all did a good job for your first training!" All Might says to the students as one of the girls raises her hand.

"To have such a proper class after Mr.Aizawa's class... It's kind of anticlimactic..." Asui says as some students nod their head in agreement.

"We're free to have proper classes, as well! Well then, I must review the results with Young Midoriya! Change and return... to the classroom!" All Might says as he begins to run, lifting up all the dirt from the ground while on his way.

"Cool." Yuno whispers as she turns to look at Uraraka.

"I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"Oh, Midoriya's here!" Kirishima exclaims as they all quickly went towards the door where Deku was standing.

"Good work!"

"Man, I don't know what you were saying during the match, but you were fried up!"

"I can't believe you fought evenly with Bakugo, who was first in the entrance exam!"

"You did a good job dodging!"

"You guys did that in the first match, so the rest of us had to give it our all, too."

"You were far from elegant, but-"

"You did a good job dodging!"

"Good job, Greenie." Yuno smiles as she stands beside Kirishima.

"I'm Eijiro Kirishima." Kirishima introduces himself as he points over at Sero. "We're all going over the training together right now."

"I'm Hanta Sero."

"I'm Yuga Aoya-"

"I'm Mina Ashido! You did a great job dodging!"

"I'm Tsuyu Asui, call me Tsu."

"I'm Kaito Himura!"

"I'm Sakura Suzuki."

"I'm Rina Yuzuriha."

"I'm Sato."

"You already know my name but I'm Yuno Kamishiro, but just call me Yuno." Yuno jokes as she smiles at the boy.

"I'm Mineta!"

"I am Yuga Aoyama."

"Where did you come from?" Yuno laughs as she stares down at the short boy who she had tried to teach a lesson to not long ago.

"You did terrible in the training."

Thy all turn to look at the sound of Iida trying to discipline Tokoyami who was sitting on one of the desks. The other entrance slides open as Kaminari walks in with Uraraka following behind.

"Hey, Uraraka, wanna grab a bite to eat sometime. What do you like?" Yuno smiles as her heart warms up at the fact that Uraraka was practically being asked out but she seemed oblivious to it.

"Mochi— Wait, Deku, she didn't heal your injuries?" Uraraka exclaims as she makes her way over to the group. Yuno sighs, feeling pity for Kaminari who was left behind.

"Oh, uh, it's because of how much stamina I have, and-" Deku says.

"Um, Uraraka, more importantly... "

"What was that?" Ashido questions as the five girls looked out the window and at the scene below them. Bakugo and Deku who seemed to be having an argument.

"The fated battle between men." Uraraka answers.

"It looked like Midoriya was just giving excuses one-sidedly, though." Tsu says as she stares at the four girls.

"I wonder what they were talking about." Suzuki says, running a hand through her black long hair.

"The fated battle between men!" Uraraka repeats.

"This is probably where the real battle begins.."

On her way home from school, she decided to go to the park. Another place that triggered forgotten memories with her old friend.

Her blue eyes trailed over to the familiar bench, all the memories that she made with the ash blond boy had came rushing back to her. The moment they first met, to the last time she had seen him.

"Tsuki.." Yuno whispers as she takes out the photo from her wallet. Her finger slid over the old polaroid, her young self and young boy both staring back at her. She sat on the bench, staring at the words that were engraved into the bench, a short and sad giggle slipped past her lips.

We'll be number 1 heros one day, honey.

She smiles at the words, running her hand over the scratched wood. All the times she had laughed, cried, argued with Katsuki had rushed back to her mind, practically giving her whiplash. The pet names he would call her and all the names she would call him. A pout made its way to her face.

"Don't touch that." A deep voice says behind her as she quickly freezes. He stares at her back, recognizing the school uniform.

Is she from U.A.?

Yuno slowly turns around to be met with those familiar piercing crimson eyes. He recognized her in an instant, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

"Whatever, I'll just leave." Bakugo says as he turns around and begins to walk away, Yuno quickly jumps to her feet. He didn't want to have another argument so he just decided to go home, he had enough of people for one day.

"Tsuki?" Yuno questions as Bakugo stops in his trail, the familiar nickname brought memories of the lavender haired girl and her piercing blue eyes. Her smile, her laugh, her personality.

"What did you just say?" Bakugo questions as he turns around, his intimidating gaze locking on her soft ones. Their minds started to show them all the memories they had of each other of when they were kids, even if they didn't want to.

"We'll be number 1 heroes one day, honey." Yuno says as Bakugo's eyes slightly widen in realization. His eyes going from irritated to hatred.

"No. There's no way." He says as he stares her up and down, he couldn't lie that she had gotten prettier, her body had matured. She looked at every detail she could by looking at him, he matured, his voice had gotten deeper but both of them couldn't disagree that they looked like when they were younger, just minor details had changed.

"Prove it."

Yuno sighs, showing him the Polaroid that showed both of them. Their adorable faces looked back at him, his eyes narrowed.

"Yuno." Bakugo whispers as he slowly approaches her. After she left, anytime he had a problem he would go to the same park, same bench and just sit there. He wished he could have the girl who made him escape reality back. Yuno was his soft spot. He approaches her and grabs her by the collar of her shirt, pulling her roughly against him. She didn't know how to react, her eyes widening at his sudden action.

"Where the hell have you been?! Don't think you can just come back thinking you'll get a warm welcome. You left without another word. You fucking left!" Bakugo yelled as he leans in closer as he tugs at the collar of her shirt more roughly. She looked at anywhere but his hate filled eyes, stopping herself from exploding right there and then. Ever since she left he couldn't help but hate her, but he would forgive her in a second. He lifted his other hand as she thought he would hit her, the girl slightly flinching. That didn't go unnoticed as he slipped his hand through her hair and set his hand on her cheek, forcing her to face him. He pressed her cheeks together and squeezed them tightly. His actions making the heat rise to her cheeks in anger.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" His deep voice orders as Yuno's eyes trail up from the ground towards his eyes that held hate, but they also held sadness that couldn't be seen by many.

"Tsuki." Yuno looked into his eyes as he then tried to avoid them. Her hands went to his face as she held his face in her hands. His crimson eyes met her blue ones, the more they stared into each other's eyes the more they would remember the times they were with each other around a decade ago. He roughly let go of her, slapping away her hands as he walks past her and sits down on the bench, he looks at the space beside him so she could sit down. Yuno's mouth was ajar as he left her hanging, she slowly turned around and sat next to the boy.

"I had to move, and my parents didn't let me go out because they were scared something would happen to me." Yuno says as his head was hung low, trying to conceal all the anger that came at him at once.

"I missed you." Yuno whispers as she stared up at the sky that had a mix of beautiful colors. The one emotion Bakugo always expressed was either anger or frustration, but the girl always managed to unlock another one. Bakugo didn't respond, as silence slowly began to engulf the two. She didn't need to hear him say it back, just with being in the same place as him was enough. His mind had calmed down, and he had forgotten everything that troubled him just for that moment.

"How's life been treating you, dumbass." Bakugo questions her as they both leaned against the bench and stared up at the sky.

"Not so good." Yuno says, remembering her father's last words, her hand reaching up to touch the necklace that he had given to her.

"Understandable." He says as she turns to look at him. He got attractive, she couldn't lie.

"How about you, idiot." Yuno questions Bakugo who continued to look at the sky, trying to ignore the heat that began to grow on his cheeks because Yuno was looking at him.

"Meh." He answers as she turned her head to look up at the sky.

"What a small world."

I hope all of y'all are safe during these tough times🥺

#bnha oc #bnha fanfiction #mha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #fanfic

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prettyfunkyunorganized · 7 years

Text

Daughter Series - Genji

The final bit of the series is here! As you likely know, I created this whole endeavor from @i-am-not-daredevil‘s fantastic Overwatch headcanons that I requested - they can be found here. I also want to give her and @zarcake-writes a huge shoutout for encouraging me throughout this process. They are both wonderful people and wonderful writers that I am very lucky to have connected with. You’re the best!

A huge virtual hug to all the people who have taken time out of their day to read this series. It means the world to me. I’ve never shared my work like this before, and having this feedback has been magical. I can’t thank you enough.

Now, back to Genji. Here are 5,178 words worth of father-daughter meeting with a break in the middle. Hope you enjoy!

More Daughter Series: Hanzo, Roadhog, McCree, Reaper, Soldier 76

Genji Installments: pt 1

masterlist

News that the Shimada clan was active again had worried everyone in Overwatch, but Genji, of course, had been the most shaken. By far. His mostly metallic body didn’t respond to fear the same way it had when he was a younger man, but his hands instantly went together, one thumb drawing circles on the opposite palm. This nervous tick had stayed with Genji all his life, even after he’d been rebuilt. He took a slow, deep breath while reminding himself that he and his team had brought down the Shimada clan once before. They could do it again. What’s more, this time Genji had his brother at his side, rather than against him.

The moment Winston said the brothers’ family name, Hanzo was infuriated, rage obvious in the way his face darkened. He was going to fly off the chain. And Genji was going to have to clean up after him. Again. Having his older brother join Overwatch was certainly not a bad thing, but having the sour man mope about the base had been . . . trying. The archer’s utter lack of social skills managed to wear on everyone’s nerves. Hanzo was going to be even more testy until he had more information on their family’s resurging criminal empire. Wonderful.

In the end, Genji had convinced everyone but his brother that he should be the one to investigate the recent Shimada activity. Hanzo insisted that he should come along. Genji insisted that he was too heated. The following argument had been long and exasperating, but Hanzo ultimately gave in, storming off like a stormcloud. Unfortunately, when Genji agreed to allow Zenyatta to provide support on his mission, Hanzo was pissed all over again. The cyborg had reached the end of his patience – he would deal with his brother’s pouting when he returned to Gibraltar.

“Hopefully Hanzo will be of calmer mind when we return,” Genji sighed.

“He is a man of tightly held beliefs, but all things change with time,” Zenyatta mused.

The two operatives had been cooped up in their surveillance spot for going on five days, and Genji’s hope was beginning to dwindle. He was usually more patient than this after years of training with Zenyatta, but this was proving to be too much. The idea of facing the people who had turned from being his family to being his attempted murderers had put Genji on edge. Perhaps if he could make some semblance of sense out of the information Overwatch had gathered on the Shimada, he would feel more at ease, but the intel was baffling.

All the signs pointing toward weapons dealing and extortion were unsurprising, but the continuous string of Shimada sightings in seemingly random towns scattered throughout the Eastern coast of North America were bizarre. Some of the locations were major cities, which was reasonable enough, but other places didn’t even scratch the 20,000 population mark – a few were home to less than 2,000. There was no apparent connection or pattern on the map before Genji, despite the fact that he had spent hours staring at it. He’d memorized it. He could see it when he closed his eyes. He could name each town in order of Shimada appearance, forward and backward. This map was haunting him.

“Genji,” Zenyatta said softly, “if analyzing that diagram is indeed helping you, then, of course, continue to do so, but I think we both know better than that.”

The cyborg begrudgingly looked up to his mentor and eventually groaned. “You are right, as usual, master.”

Zenyatta gave him a quick glance before turning back to the window. Overwatched had been tracking the Shimada clan’s financial records and it seemed this was the next stop on their strange road trip. “I know how important this is for you,” Zenyatta said quietly, “and I know you can fixate on the things that matter most to you. You are passionate, and that is admirable, but sometimes I believe it gets the better of you.”

Rolling his neck, Genji pushed the intel away. “I suppose I will keep a lookout then, perhaps the night air will do me some good.”

“Very well,” the omnic said floating away from the balcony. A movement from across the way stopped Genji in his tracks. Zenyatta turned back around quickly. “What is it,” he asked quietly.

“I recognize that movement,” Genji said keeping his eyes focused. “We need to move. Stay close, and out of sight.” They scaled down the side of the building silently, following the tiny flits of shifting shadows. This little town was empty this late in the evening, completely still in the crisp night air aside from the three figures darting through the rooftops. Somehow Genji and Zenyatta managed to not draw attention to themselves. Either the Shimada clan was sending out a mediocre a member to test them, or this was a trap. Genji’s brow furrowed as his target stopped beside an old apartment complex and unsheathed his weapon.

“How should we proceed,” Zenyatta asked just above a whisper.

“Continue to watch. Engaging is not our best – ” Genji began to respond, but shrill scream cut him off.

“Perhaps now we should . . .” Zenyatta trailed off, concern fraying his voice.

“Whoever, that was,” Genji replied gravely, “they are likely already dead. Our time will be better spent if we follow the assassin to – ” Glass shattered and a figure was tossed out the window above them.

“Are you shitting me?!” An enraged shriek out before the small body on the fire escape leaped back into the building.

“Well then,” Zenyatta murmured. It wasn’t often he was at a loss for words. The sounds of fighting continued.

Genji jolted out of his confused stupor. “We should help. Now.” The two Overwatch agents clambered up the fence fire escape to the third floor. Before they could enter the building to assist, a masked ninja was launched past them, grabbing a piece of the railing at the last second. He likely would have broken something important if he’d continued to fall like that. As soon as the attacker regained his composure, he slipped out of sight.

“Aw, son of a – ” A young woman sprang up beside them, peering over the ledge frantically, feet lifting off the ground as she leaned over the side. Genji almost reached out to pull her back, but she plopped back to a standing position before his hand touched her. “This is bad. Really bad,” she whimpered.

“I beg your pardon,” Zenyatta said curiously.

“They’ll be back,” she moaned, “With friends. I gotta go. I gotta go! Now.” She retreated back into the dilapidated old apartment. As she jumped over the windowsill a stray piece of glass sliced her leg, making her falter. Blood spread across her palm as she pressed her hand to the wound.

“That looks deep,” Zenyatta worried, floating right over the shards and settling next to her. “Are you in pain?”

The young woman gave the omnic a wary glance. “Um, yeah, but I’m okay. But I need to leave. I need to get away from here.”

“We are here to help, I assure you. Should anyone return to harm you, you will not have to face them alone. However, if you feel you need to flee, I won’t stop you,” he said soothingly.

Something about that synthesized tone had always calmed Genji, and it appeared to have the same effect on this short, frightened girl. “I mean,” she said slowly, “I just – there’s probably going to be a whole mess of those guys here in a sec, but . . . it might be nice to have some help for once.”

“Here,” Zenyatta moved his hand to gesture above the young woman’s head. A harmony orb glowed above her, and she was instantly fascinated. She swayed from side to side, watching the golden orb bob along with her. Her giggle was light and soft. Genji crossed the threshold and joined the two of them, wondering why anyone would put a target on the back of such a pleasant young woman.

“That feels a lot better, thank you,” she said with a smile. “Who are you – OH SHIT!”

Genji heard the rustle behind him too late. Something came whizzing past his head and Zenyatta was tossed across the room. The young woman produced a fighting staff from thin air, ready for a fight. Her motions were practiced, as if combat was second nature. Genji followed suit.

Four assassins bombarded the two Overwatch operatives and their new acquaintance. Evidently, the Shimada ninjas were still quite skilled. Incredibly so. In the cramped room, Genji found himself unable to gain an edge over the pair of assailants that continued to charge him. Zenyatta was floating about more erratically than usual, launching his orbs of destruction as fast as they appeared above him. The girl, much to his surprise, was holding her own quite well against the agile killer that towered above her. With a swift whip of her hand, she caught the opposing ninja in the throat and a desperate noise sputtered from him as he collapsed to the floor. The assailant rushing Zenyatta saw his comrade fall and instantly unleashed a brutal attack, blasting the omnic straight in the processing unit on his head. A disturbing metallic thud caused Genji to freeze just long enough for his own attacker to knock him off balance. Before he could react, the cyborg was pitched into the air tumbling back toward the street. He climbed back up the wall in a few swift jumps to see Zenyatta was still lying in a crumpled, blinking heap. He’d never seen his mentor like this. It was terrifying. Taking advantage of Genji’s momentary hesitation, all four Shimada clan members descended on the young woman pinned in the corner.

“No,” Genji howled, reading his katana, but a sudden flash blinded him. Once his eyes and accompanying visor adjusted to the light, the cyborg stayed rooted in place.

Determination sprawled across her face, the young woman brandished her weapon with deadly accuracy. She was a force of nature, just like the yellow dragon snarling alongside her staff. Each time she struck an attacker, the dragon tore sunk its teeth into him as well. When someone tried to come from behind her, the writhing beast clawed the ninja’s throat. As the last Shimada hitman tried to flee the dragon slipped away from its young master to wrestle the man down. Something snapped as dragon and ninja met. Everyone was still, but not all were breathing.

Now that the threat had been eliminated, the ethereal yellow creature casually drifted back to the girl’s side, coiling around her shoulders happily. The young woman nuzzled the dragon’s nose with a thin smile before it dissipated.

“That was quite the skirmish,” Zenyatta said slowly as he shifted into his usual cross-legged position before rising from the ground. “Are the two of you alright?”

“Master!” Genji rushed to the omnic’s side, “Have you been damaged?”

“I will be just fine, my good student,” Zenyatta assured him. “What occurred to me was the equivalent of being knocked unconscious momentarily. I will perform a more thorough check of my system once we have completed our mission. In the meantime,” he said turning to the young woman, “I believe thanks are in order.” Genji looked to her as well, a strange feeling of confusion and anxiety making the hair on his neck prickle.

She shrugged, timid now that there was nothing trying to kill the three of them. “Oh, you don’t need to thank me. It was the least I could do after you guys swung in to help me in the first place.” Her cheeks turned red as Zenyatta approached her.

“Nonetheless, without your assistance my student and I could have met our end today,” he said bowing his head to her.

The girl giggled gently, “Happy to help. But, hopefully, we won’t be doing this again anytime soon.” She flipped her wrist toward the ceiling and her staff condensed until it was small enough to fit in her hand, much the same way an umbrella shrunk in length. “Guess I better get going,” she sighed, “Nice meeting you!” Zipping her coat, the young woman headed to the fire escape with a slight limp from the gash on her leg.

“Wait,” Genji called after her, coming to his senses, “how did you do that?” Shock caused his voice to come out hoarse and high pitched.

“Do what,” she questioned turning back with a frown.

“You summoned a dragon,” he gaped. “I – I do not understand . . .”

“Right,” she said laughing awkwardly, “about that, I don’t really know how it works. It just sort of happened one day and now my crafty little friend appears whenever I really need her.”

Genji folded his arms across his chest and frowned at the floor, eyes searching the worn linoleum for an explanation. Only those of the Shimada bloodline could call upon dragons in that way, no matter how formidable a ninja in the clan became.

“What is your name,” Genji asked hesitantly.

She frowned skeptically at him, leaning toward the exit. “Why?”

“Forgive me,” he stammered, “I do not mean to pry. I am simply . . . curious.” He wasn’t sure how much he should say. Bubbly persona aside, the Shimada clan was still trying to kill this girl and had poured an immense amount of resources into doing so. There must be some reason for it.

“My colleague and I were sent here to investigate the activities of the Shimada clan,” Zenyatta said, revealing more than he probably should have. “I hope you will understand if we have a few questions since our target appears to have taken an interest in you.”

“Wait, you two know who these guys are,” the young woman said incredulously gesturing to the fallen men around her.

“Did you not,” Zenyatta asked tilting his head to the side.

“No!” Her shoulders slumped as she ran her hands over her face. “They started coming after me a few months ago, and I’ve just been running ever since. Every time I think I’ve shaken them, they pounce again.”

“Months,” Genji repeated, brows raised behind his visor.

“Yeah,” she sighed dejectedly.

“Impressive,” he muttered honestly.

“I imagine you don’t know why these people have been coming after you either,” Zenyatta asked thoughtfully. She shook her head. “Unfortunate.” The orbs around him whirled as he drummed his metal digits on his knee.

“What did you say these jerks were called?” She nudged one of the fallen ninjas with her foot, making sure he was really down for the count.

“The Shimada clan,” Genji replied.

“Well that might have something to do with it,” she said pursing her lips.

“What do you mean?” Genji’s thumb began drawing circles again. Something in the way this girl scrunched her over expressive face, spoke with her arms, and smiled easily in the face of danger felt familiar. And unsettling.

“My last name’s Shimada,” she said not looking up from the broken ninja. Genji cringed for less than a second, but Zenyatta still noticed.

“Is that so,” the omnic said slowly looking away from his student.

“Yup.”

“And you’ve never had any other sort of deals with the Shimada clan,” Zenyatta asked. “Your parents weren’t involved with them?”

“I’ve never even heard of them until now, and I was raised in an orphanage until I busted out of the system. Since then I’ve been on the streets,” she replied.

“So you are unaware of who your parents are?” The orbs around Zenyatta swirled slowly, as if mimicking the omnic’s thought process.

“I know their names, but not much more,” she said toying with the end of her tight black braid.

“May I ask you parents’ names? Perhaps if we can determine why you are being pursued, we can find a way to keep you safe.”

The girl squinted at Zenyatta doubtfully for a long moment. “I don’t know if I can tell you,” she eventually said, rubbing her arm and looking at the starry sky. “You two seem nice enough but . . . This could just be a trick. I’ve been almost killed so many times recently that I’m just not up for trusting anyone. I appreciate you trying to help – if it's genuine – but, no. No.”

She tried to leave again and Zenyatta rushed over to put a hand on her shoulder. “Please, give us a chance,” he pleaded. When Zenyatta took an interest in someone, his determination knew no bounds. He’d do almost anything to help those he felt needed him. “I can only imagine the strain you must be under. Your feelings of fear and suspicion and foreboding are entirely justified, but unless you are willing to allow people to help you, those feelings are unlikely to change. If you decide not to allow us to assist you, I understand. We will not force you, but please know that we mean you no harm, and anything you tell us will stay confidential. You have my word.”

The young woman wavered, stealing glances at Zenyatta, Genji, and the way out in turn. She rocked from side to side making a desperate little nose before swiveling back to Zenyatta. “I mean, you did try to help me against these guys. And you’ve been really nice to me. And . . . and I know I can’t keep doing this by myself,” she all but whispered. “I’m so tired of running.” She rubbed her temples as her eyelids drooped.

She looked exhausted, and a wave of sympathy rolled over Genji. He’d done enough running from his former clan to know how she was feeling. The student joined his master beside her, trying to mimic Zenyatta’s welcoming air. It was times like this he regretted that his face was concealed. He was giving her a warm-hearted smile, but the girl had no way of knowing. “We will help if we can,” Genji said softly.

“Alright, alright,” she said beginning to smile again. “Dunno what it is about you two that seems so genuine, but I’ll give you a shot. It might have something to do with the fact that I’ve always had a soft spot for anyone who likes the color yellow as much as I do,” she grinned, nodding to Zenyatta’s uniform.

The omnic let out a jovial laugh. “Color can be a strong subliminal influencer! Not that I have any intention of coercing anyone,” Zenyatta backtracked.

Both Genji and the girl smiled. “I believe you,” she assured him. “And I’ll tell you my parents’ names if you think it will help.”

“I appreciate your vote of confidence and any information you can give us,” Zenyatta replied.

She took a deep breath before speaking, “My biological mother’s name was Juliette Grace.” Genji instantly felt lightheaded, and his biotics began working faster, as if he were under attack. “My biological father’s name was Genji Shimada. I guess I got the last name from him.”

A few of Genji’s steam vents puffed out a jet of air, releasing the tension building up in his mechanical system. If only relieving his racing mind was as easy. For the first time since he’d been rebuilt the man felt as if his knees might fail him. His jaw was clenched, and his heart felt as if it would leap through his throat and scuttle away.

He swallowed hard and looked to Zenyatta, trying not to shake. Zenyatta was hardly moving, a sign that he was shocked as well. The omnic was the first to look back to the girl.

“Um, is everything still okay,” she asked. No one responded, and she tried to shrink into the wall, “You’re starting to scare me,” she admitted tentatively.

“There is no need to be afraid,” Zenyatta said quickly. “We were just . . . surprised, is all. I was thinking that perhaps you are an unknown child of Shimada Sojiro, not – ” He hesitated, turning back to Genji.

“Do you guys know my parents or something,” she asked almost breathlessly, her voice somewhere between hopeful and scared.

A long silence fell between them as Genji scrambled for something appropriate to say. He was at a complete loss.

“I believe Genji is most suited to answer that question,” Zenyatta finally filled said, “why don’t I give you a moment alone.” He began to head for the door and Genji spun around in a panic.

“Wha – no! I do not believe that is a good idea,” he squeaked.

Zenyatta simply chuckled and patted his student’s arm, “You will be fine.”

“Do you have to go,” the girl whimpered from behind, and they both looked back to her. She clearly didn’t like the idea of being alone with Genji. It made him feel guilty.

“I am asking for your trust just a little bit longer,” Zenyatta said peacefully, “I am confident it will be worth your while. However, if it will put your mind at ease, I will promise I will stay close by. If you need me, you need only say so.”

“Okay,” she said with a nervous nod. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Zenyatta drifted away, and Genji slowly turned back to the girl.

“Are, uh,” she began after a few seconds of Genji trying to make a cohesive sentence, “are you alright?” She laughed roughly. “Seems like you’re more freaked out than I am, and that’s saying something.” She muttered this last bit under her breath, but Genji’s enhanced ears still picked it up.

He cleared his throat and forced himself to stop being cowardly. “Forgive me, I was . . . overwhelmed. I hope I did not add to your stress too much.”

She shrugged, “I’ve been at max stress level for a while now, everything just spills over the top at this point.” Part of her rosy lower lip went under her teeth, giving the pale girl an uneven smile. “I would appreciate some explanation though. Feels like I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” he said lowly. “I know how that feels.”

“You do,” she said looking up to him. She was just a few inches shorter, but seemed much smaller with the way she held herself.

“I have spent many years avoiding the Shimada clan as well,” he explained. “I know how relentless they can be, and how deeply that can affect you.”

“Why are they looking for you?”

He hesitated, but believed honesty was his best option, as it usually was. “I used to be a part of the clan. After I . . . left they continued to come after me.” It was more of a half-truth. Or maybe three quarters, but he certainly hadn’t just ‘left’ the Shimada empire.

“What made you decide to leave?”

“I was raised in their ranks, but after years of disappointment, the clan finally sent someone to kill me. I could not go back after that, even if I had wanted to.”

“They raised you,” she frowned.

“Yes,” he said wondering why she looked so confused.

“Wa – wait. Are you . . . are you not an omnic?”

Genji’s head jolted back a bit at the unexpected question. “I – no. No, I am not,” he answered sheepishly.

“Oh,” she said holding the vowel a long time. She suddenly went bright red. “I’m so sorry,” she yelped. “That was really rude wasn’t it?! I shouldn’t have asked that. And I shouldn’t have assumed either. I’m so sorry! I – I was just confused, and I’m trying to figure things out, and – ” She continued to stammer nervously until she finally turned away and pressed her head into her hands.

Without thinking, Genji laughed lightly, moving so he could see her face peeking through her fingers. She peered back at him, completely still. She was an adorable little thing. “Please, there is no need hide like that,” he said still chuckling, “you need not feel so embarrassed.”

“I didn’t offend you,” she asked, still hunched.

“Not at all,” he said with a broad smile.

“Well, I’m still sorry,” she insisted putting her arms behind her and rocking on her heels. “And I’m sorry to hear that people have been trying to kill you, too.”

“Oddly enough, being almost murdered was not all bad,” he said only somewhat joking.

She sputtered out a disbelieving laugh, “I mean . . . Good?” They stood there, close together, but no longer surrounded by tension. “Do you really know my parents,” she asked eventually, eyes wide and worried.

“I – well, yes. In a way.” He wanted to tell her, he did, but he was terrified to see her reaction. She continued to look at him expectantly. He rubbed the back of his neck for a moment and turned his head away, unable to look at her as he told the truth. “I am Genji Shimada.”

She stayed entirely still for what seemed like ages. Then her hands raised to a defensive position and Genji began to sweat. She leaned away and took a small step back. He felt cold.

“You’re serious, aren’t you,” she said almost inaudibly.

“Yes.” He had to say it twice, his mouth too dry to make a proper noise the first time.

“I, ah, I don’t know what to say,” she murmured.

“Neither do I,” his thumb all but boring circles into his palm again.

“Did you not know about me?” When Genji found the courage to look at her again, her arms were pressed close to her chest, fingers clasped tightly together, shoulders near her ears.

The question left his brow pinched in confusion. “Of course not,” he replied.

“Oh,” she said, sounding less wobbly, “I always figured you did.”

“Why would you think that?”

“My mother signed off on the adoption papers, so she decided to give me up. I guess I just assumed you were okay with it, too.”

“No,” Genji protested louder than he meant to, “I had no idea. If I had I never would have – ” He stopped himself before blubbering out all the regrets boiling over in his mind.

“What would you have done?” The dreamy tone in her voice was sweet and somehow encouraging.

“I can not say exactly what I would have done,” he said choosing his words carefully, “I was a very different man back then – and young – but, I never would have left you alone. I would have made sure you were safe and happy. You would have been loved, even if you weren’t with me.”

The words settled around them heavily and Genji began to worry he’d said too much, too soon.

“Thank you,” she said with a sniffle, wiping her eye and blinking.

“I did not mean to make you cry,” Genji said approaching her worriedly. She didn’t pull away this time.

“It’s fine,” she said with a wry laugh. “I cry easy – I’m kind of a sap. Sorry,” she said bashfully.

“There is nothing to apologize for,” he said with a gentle tilt of his head.

“No one’s ever said anything like that to me before.” Her cheeks were still red, but her smile was wide.

“I wish I could have told you sooner.”

“Me, too. But, um, what do we do now?”

Genji looked around him, remembering they were still surrounded by the bodies of men who wanted to murder his daughter. He had to get her away from this, all of this. He had to protect her. “I would like to take you someplace safe,” he said decisively, “I have some friends who can help me keep the Shimada clan away from you.”

She beamed. “You want me to come with you?”

“Nothing would make me happier.” He adored the way she giggled back at him. “Let’s go find Zenyatta and we can be on our way.”

The floating omnic was staring peacefully at the moon, turning to greet Genji and the girl as they approached. “I trust all is well,” he asked.

“It is,” Genji nodded.

“I am glad to hear it,” Zenyatta said cheerily. “And you are feeling alright as well,” he asked the young woman.

“Yes,” she said firmly, “I haven’t been this good in a long time, actually.”

Zenyatta chuckled. “You have a very lovely smile, young lady, I feel fortunate to be seeing it.”

“Aw, thanks,” she said pushing her hair behind her ear shyly.

“She is coming with us,” Genji informed his companion.

“She is?”

“Yes. I – I will not leave her on here own.” Genji had shared much with his mentor over the years, but it was different to speak with Zenyatta about his daughter. The feelings he had toward her were like nothing he’d ever experienced – overpowering and incredibly deep. He just wanted to stare at her while asking a million questions. She was beautiful. Her playful smile reminded him of his own, but without the scars. The dark green eyes that sparkled even in the dark street were poised under a pair of brows that were just as wild as his had once been. Her exuberance made him long for a time when he had been that happy. More than that, he wanted to do everything in his power to keep her happy.

“I suppose a proper introduction is in order then,” Zenyatta said turning to fully face the girl. “I have yet to hear your name.”

Genji frowned, “Neither have I.” A twinge of shame crept up on him as he realized he didn’t know his child’s name.

She laughed it off easily. “We have been rather preoccupied up until now, what with the multiple assassins and unexpected family revelations on our hands.”

Genji grinned at her quip. She was wonderful.

“My name is Mona Shimada, well, Desdemona Shimada, but please, please, just call me Mona,” she said wrinkling her nose.

“As you wish,” Zenyatta said. To anyone else, the omnic probably sounded just the same as he always had, but Genji knew him better than most, maybe better than anyone. Zenyatta was amused. He liked her. It made the father’s heart swell. With his hands centered in front of him, the former monk bowed his head to her. “I am Tekhartha Zenyatta, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Mona.”

“Likewise,” she said, respectfully repeating the motion.

“Come,” Genji said gesturing to the town behind them. “Let us find a place to take shelter and call our team. They will be expecting an update.”

“You have a whole team,” Mona questioned.

“Yes,” Zenyatta answered, “we are with Overwatch.”

“O-Overwatch,” she stammered excitedly. Genji nodded. “That is . . . awesome,” she laughed.

“They are going to love you,” he said walking alongside her. The two stayed close to one another as they meandered down the sidewalk, Zenyatta bobbing along behind them, considering giving them each a golden orb, but they already seemed to be in almost perfect harmony.

#mine #writing #overwatch #overwatch fanfic #overwatch drabble #drabble #my drabble #hanzo #genji #zenyatta #mona #daughter series

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asfeedin · 4 years

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Arsenal’s stress is just beginning as Aubameyang, Saka, Lacazette need new deals

LONDON — The announcement that Arsenal had agreed a 12.5% pay cut with their playing staff initially appeared to be a victory for everyone involved. Here was an example of a group of highly paid and much-storied footballers, routinely maligned for existing in a bubble of exorbitant wealth, recognising the reality of the world and making an economic sacrifice for the greater good during exceptional times.

In doing so, the Gunners became the first Premier League club to confirm a salary reduction as opposed to a deferral, setting an example to others by demonstrating both the severity of the financial damage this coronavirus pandemic will likely inflict and an admirable collective willingness to face that challenge. By saving a maximum of around £20 million over the next 12 months — their salaries are repaid in full if they qualify for the Champions League, or 7.5% is returned upon reaching the Europa League — the reduction meant that the club’s non-playing staff were less likely to be furloughed.

– Stream new episodes of ESPN FC Monday-Friday on ESPN+ – Stream every episode of 30 for 30: Soccer Stories on ESPN+

And yet, the negotiations also shone a light on the internal tensions in the Arsenal squad that pose one of the biggest sporting tests to head coach Mikel Arteta as he rebuilds this team.

Contract negotiations have long been an issue for the Gunners. It’s why the club sought to bring additional expertise on board, including former Team Sky lawyer Huss Fahmy and Raul Sanllehi from Barcelona. Yet despite the goal of injecting greater diligence and ruthlessness into their operations, the Gunners conducted their pay-cut conversations against a backdrop of uncertainty surrounding the futures of several influential players.

Arsenal have been in a rebuilding pattern since Arsene Wenger left in 2018 but it seems like the same problems with keeping top players and successfully renegotiating contract extensions await them when football resumes. Stuart MacFarlane/Arsenal FC via Getty Images

Upon taking the helm after chief executive Ivan Gazidis’ departure for AC Milan at the end of 2018, Arsenal head of football Sanllehi and managing director Vinai Venkatesham underlined how they wanted to establish fresh business practices following the end of Arsene Wenger’s 22-year reign and a large-scale restructuring. “Internally, we are calling this period ‘The New Chapter,’ which I think says a lot,” Sanllehi claimed in November 2018. That sea change had multiple components, chief among them a need to improve the club’s methodology around contract negotiations, with the Gunners having lost an array of talent on unfavourable terms. In 2019, Aaron Ramsey joined a painfully long list at the end of last season after the club withdrew a longstanding offer to end what they privately vowed would be the last stalemate of its kind.

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“You should try to always avoid going into the last year of a contract for many different reasons, from the club’s side and also for the player,” Sanllehi said. “We will try to get clarity earlier.”

Yet a cloudy picture persists, and more than a year later, that search for clarity continues. Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang, Bukayo Saka and Alexandre Lacazette are among a number of players facing uncertain futures, amid the metaphorical clock ticking and growing speculation over exactly the sort of cut-price departure Arsenal wanted to avoid. Aubameyang and Saka are out of contract in 2021, Lacazette in 2022.

– Sources: Ozil facing uncertain future as contract talks stall – Laurens: Inside Arsenal players’ pay cut negotiations

A partial explanation for the delay in tying players down can be found in the upheaval caused by Unai Emery’s departure in November. The Spaniard’s tenure unravelled to an alarming extent, but the club were so reluctant to sack him that there was no immediate replacement lined up. The club opted to give club legend and assistant first-team coach Freddie Ljungberg a chance to prove himself. The Swede had an excellent relationship with Arsenal’s young players from his work as U-23 manager but failed to address the tactical issues that contributed to Emery’s departure. Having held an interest in Arteta when Wenger departed, the Gunners opted to appoint the Spaniard in mid-December.

But as the coronavirus spread across the globe, causing mass disruption to daily life and presenting unprecedented challenges, discussions inside the club turned to cash flow and Arsenal found themselves in the awkward position of having to simultaneously present competing arguments to certain players. The spirit of those conversations was awkward: We need you to take a pay cut to safeguard the club’s future, but also believe us when we say we’re in a position to compete for trophies in future … so why not sign a new long-term contract?

• When does the transfer window reopen? • Karlsen: Possible coronavirus impact • Best ever transfers: 100-51 | 50-1 • This summer’s top free agents • January transfer grades • Latest completed major transfers

The most obvious example of a player caught at the crossroads is Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang, who will have one year remaining on his existing contract whenever the current season ends. The striker turns 31 in June and his next contract will probably be the last big deal of his topflight career. He’s in a strong negotiating position, having shared the Premier League Golden Boot with Mohamed Salah and Sadio Mane last season before backing that up with 17 goals this term, second in the standings behind Leicester’s Jamie Vardy.

Aubameyang’s haul is especially impressive given the team’s broader struggles under Emery. The Gunners’ all-time record goal scorer, Thierry Henry, echoed the sentiments of many supporters when reflecting in December: “Without the goals of Aubameyang I don’t know where we would have been right now.”

No other Arsenal player is in double figures, with Lacazette next best on seven league goals and Nicolas Pepe with four. To underline Aubameyang’s talismanic effect on the squad, Aubameyang was given the captain’s armband when Granit Xhaka was demoted following an altercation with supporters. The striker used his programme notes in January to scotch rumours of a possible departure, adding: “I am committed to it and desperate to bring it back to the top, where it belongs.”

However, there are some senior figures at the club who, while welcoming that public show of loyalty, would have liked to have seen a stronger indication from Aubameyang that he is ready to sign a new deal. Talks have been delayed as a result of the coronavirus, but already it was understood that Aubameyang’s position involved waiting to see whether the club qualified for the Champions League and how well-placed they were to fight for silverware during the theoretical apotheosis of his career.

All of which is difficult to square with Arsenal being the only club to take a pay cut — and one lasting 12 months at that, rather than the three- or four-month deferrals reported at other clubs. Aubameyang’s future is undecided, but other clubs including Chelsea, Barcelona and Inter Milan sense an opportunity he could be tempted away.

Aubameyang’s future feels most precarious at Arsenal given both the leverage he has as the club’s top scorer and the fact that he has only a year remaining on his deal. David Price/Arsenal FC via Getty Images

Saka is at the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of age and influence, but finds himself pondering a similar dilemma. The 19-year-old has been one of Arsenal’s success stories this season, breaking into the first team with maturity, consistency and quality — form made all the more remarkable by his doing so largely while playing out of position at left-back rather than in his preferred guise as a winger.

Like Aubameyang, Saka will have one year left on his deal, and with just 26 first-team appearances under his belt, he already has attracted interest from a host of clubs including Borussia Dortmund in addition to being namechecked for a future international call-up by England head coach Gareth Southgate. He joined Arsenal at the age of 9 and is deeply fond of the club, but rivals will make a compelling case that they’re better positioned to aid his development.

Saka earns a fraction of Aubameyang’s £200,000-a-week wage and would therefore feel the pinch more acutely over the next year, but this isn’t about the money as much as it is ambition.

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Gab Marcotti explains why Premier League clubs are hesitant to resume the season.

Arsenal undoubtedly need considerable investment to help them compete again for the Premier League and Champions League. Sanllehi and Venkatesham are engaging characters with the club’s best interests at heart, but do they have the resources to create the conditions for the Gunners to challenge? And if not, will owner Stan Kroenke buck a trend and invest to help bridge the gap?

These are the types of issues Mesut Ozil felt did not get satisfactory answers before declining to join his teammates in taking a pay cut. Talks are ongoing with Ozil and at least two other players, who are all open to finding a solution, but no agreement is close.

Ozil’s £350,000-a-week contract has been a financial strain on the club and often hard to justify, particularly when the midfielder was frozen out under Emery. Rather than that figure hailing the dawn of a new era in which the club could rival the biggest salaries around, it remains an outlier in the first-team squad to this day. Other players have referenced it as a benchmark in negotiations. Arsenal have not played a Champions League match since Ozil signed that deal in January 2018, and a lack of income from Europe’s premier competition has compromised any chance of offering other players a similar wage.

Dan Thomas is joined by Craig Burley, Shaka Hislop and a host of other guests every day as football plots a path through the coronavirus crisis. Stream on ESPN+ (U.S. only).

It’s perhaps little surprise Ozil has yet to be offered any sort of extension, even one on reduced terms. The German midfielder was free to leave last summer, but no club could match his salary. Although he never agitated for a move and has enjoyed a revival under Arteta, it feels as though both Arsenal and Ozil have reached a point where their association is no longer mutually beneficial.

After seven years at the club — eight if Ozil sees out his contract to its conclusion — it will be a landmark moment for the Gunners. Those with intimate knowledge of the player insist his motivation in rejecting a pay cut is not financial — he gives away more than £2m per year to charitable causes — but a question of aspiration, aptitude and intent.

Those questions have been asked of Kroenke for a long time prior to the coronavirus pandemic. They will be asked by prospective new signings, too.

Shkodran Mustafi, David Luiz and Sokratis Papastathopoulos all have deals that expire in 2021. The former has been a divisive figure for some time, while the latter pair are believed to have options in their existing agreements to extend by a further year; all will need addressing soon. Lacazette has two years remaining, giving the club a little more insulation against external market forces, but the French striker has not always looked entirely happy in north London and another tough decision over his future sits on the horizon unless there is a change in mood around the club.

Of course, Arsenal are not alone in facing these challenges. Chelsea were in discussions over a 10% cut for their first-team squad but failed to reach an agreement. Tottenham and Liverpool were forced into reversing their decision to furlough non-playing staff and neither have secured a deferral or cut from their players as yet. At the time of writing, Manchester United insist they are not considering reductions or deferrals, but executive vice chairman Ed Woodward claimed last week that the economic impact would affect their ability to compete in the transfer market when football resumes. And if that is true of a financial behemoth like United, the rest of the Premier League really is in trouble.

The lasting effect of the coronavirus on football is a long way from being known, but as clubs adjust to a future not yet fully formed, a familiar issue plagues Arsenal’s path.

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Tags: Alexandre Lacazette, all blogs, Arsenal, Arsenals, Aubameyang, Beginning, Bukayo Saka, deals, English Premier League, Lacazette, Mesut Özil, Saka, Stress

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bellarke-addict · 7 years

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Bellamy’s Bad Weekend

Continuation of In the Bunker series. Background Bellarke

Bellamy Blake was not having a good weekend.

Which was kind of what he had expected, considering it was the middle of the work week and he was only on this rare two-day vacation because he’d been overheard arguing about the training schedule.

With himself.

In his sleep.

He maintained that he had probably been making some sound arguments, but Miller had sold him out to Kane, who had ordered him to take forty-eight hours off.

It would have been longer but they couldn’t afford to spare him.

Then again, it wasn’t like he would be out of reach in the event of an emergency, there was nowhere for him to go in the bunker.

Still, he had grabbed the book he’d been trying to read for the last six months and headed to the Skai-kru meeting room, which had long since been repurposed into a bar. He’d thought he could grab the couch, sweet talk his friends into bringing him his meals and read his weekend away.

He had barely even got his ass on the seat when Niylah had come to find him because a fight had broken out between a few of the younger Ark kids, which he’d ended just by showing up and ordering them to cut it out, but by this point, people knew he was free and suddenly he was being presented with hundreds of tiny problems that he was usually too busy to be bothered with.

So, he’d handled it like a mature adult.

He’d faked a radio call from Clarke, grabbed his book and taken refuge in his sister’s office.

Which is where O, found him a few hours later, a well-placed kick to his shins preventing him from falling asleep in the arm chair.

“I’m awake.” he mumbled as she sat in her desk chair and rolled over to him, her legs ending up in his lap,

“Great,” Octavia deadpanned, “I’m sterile.”

For a moment, he glances down at her hands, not comprehending, before it clicks in his mind,

“O,” he breathes, reaching for her hands but she snatches them back, so he grips her ankles instead, “I’m so sorry.”

Octavia shrugs, not so much the commander in that moment as she was the eighteen-year-old girl,

“I spoke to Abby, I haven’t had my period in a long time, which I figured was stress, starvation, pretty much all the reasons us girls have had weird cycles since coming down here, but she examined me and told me…a bunch of medical jargon that means I can’t have kids.”

“I already knew this,” she adds, hastily, “The amount of times I’ve been laid out on the operating table while Clarke and Abby tried to get my internal organs back inside my body, I figured kids were off the table…”

“They don’t have to be,” Bellamy interrupted, “You could adopt, like Kane but on a much smaller scale, and with actual kids, not almost adults.”

Octavia managed a smirk, “That’s not the issue big brother, I’m not just a commander, remember? I’m a queen, of an absolute monarchy, even if Azgeda is now part of Wonkru, they’re expecting an heir.”

It had only been a year in the bunker, a year of Ogeda and Wonkru, so Bellamy understands that people were still getting used to the merging of their clans into one. He, too, still considered Skai-kru people as his people above everyone else in the bunker. It would probably take the next four years for Ogeda to become fixed reality, and until then, one of his sister’s perceived duties, was to carry on the Ice Nation’s royal line.

It has Bellamy gunning for revolution on her behalf and when Roan knocks on the door, opening it before either of them could say anything, Bellamy wants to shout at him to go float himself.

“Lunch?” he prompts, giving him a quick nod before looking to Octavia.

“I can’t have kids.” She announces, twisting her head to see him over the back of her chair.

Roan blinks, raising his eyebrows,

“Considering Echo stabbed you and threw you off a cliff, I’d be shocked if you could,” he answers mildly, “Should we eat here or in the mess hall?”

He responds so casually that Bellamy thinks the ramifications haven’t set in for him yet. Octavia seems to be operating on the same assumption.

“You get what this means, right?” Octavia asks, “I can’t have kids.”

He shrugs, “Would you like one of mine?”

What now?

Octavia’s eyes slowly meet her brother’s and the two of them share a glance before refocusing on the king, “How many children do you have?”

He tilts his head, visibly counting in his mind, “Six…I think.”

“This is an impressive head wound,” Abby remarks as she and Jackson try to staunch the bleeding, “How did this happen?”

Roan’s eyes are slightly unfocused but when Bellamy glares at him, he seems to get the message, “I…tripped.”

“Uh huh,” Abby leans back, holding her hand out for more bandages, “And I’m guessing you were caught by a Blake and…judging from the shape of the cut, I’d say…a desk?”

“Paperweight,” Bellamy corrects, before scratching behind his ear, “Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically,” Jackson deadpans, “You’ll need to keep him awake, he may be concussed.”

Bellamy had planned to kill the guy but he could settle for sleep deprivation.

Roan groans, cradling his head as they make their way from the infirmary,

“I had forgot about your sister’s temper,” he mutters, “Do I need to sleep in a different bed tonight?”

“Try a different bunker,” Bellamy snapped, before wheeling on him, causing the king to take a step back.

“How the hell do you have six kids?!” Bellamy demands, his voice carrying down the hall and startling passers-by.

“Who the hell has three kids and thinks continuing to impregnate women is a good idea?!”

Further down the hall, a door opens and Kane sticks his head out, trying to assess the situation and see if intervention is necessary,

Roan leans back slightly, “Are you done?”

“Oh. I’m just getting started,” Bellamy shouts, “I want the names of the kids, the names of the women and then…”

“They are not my blood-children.” He interrupts, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes. As if this were all just another Skai-kru eccentricity to be lived through.

What?!

“In Azgeda,” he begins, seeing Bellamy’s unspoken demand for explanation,

“The children of our warriors are known as children of the ruling king or queen, so that if they are orphaned, it is my duty to see to their welfare.”

Oh.

“Okay,” Bellamy groans, pinching the bridge of his nose,

“You probably should have led with that, and I should probably go explain it to O, before she puts a bounty on your head.”

“Please.” Roan requests, mumbling something derogatory about Skai-kru under his breath as he walks off,

“Go find Clarke!” Bellamy shouts after his brother-in-law, “Remember, you can’t fall asleep!”

Octavia had been in the middle of moving all of Roan’s possessions from their room to the hallway, with the final destination to be outside the bunker or in one of the prison cells, when Bellamy had arrived and clarified the situation for her.

“Why the hell didn’t he lead with that?!” she demanded,

“Hey!” she snapped at one of the guards, “Move his things back inside.”

Bellamy only shakes his head, “I don’t know, but are you good now? I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow and hear that you’re a widow?”

Octavia gives a stubborn shrug, “I’ll get back to you on that.”

He sighs but leaves anyway, trudging through the bunker aiming for his room,

“Bellamy?” Kane calls, coming out of Trikru’s quarters, “You’re supposed to be off-duty.”

“I am,” he protests, as they walk together, “I haven’t done a single patrol all day.”

“And have you been resting?” Kane asks, his tone filled with doubt.

“No,” he allows, “Because I’ve been busy trying to prevent a regicide and a war.”

Kane shakes his head and claps him on the shoulder, steering him into the bar and looking around at the crowd,

“Clarke!” he calls, “Bellamy was just looking for you.”

Clarke is leaning back against the bar, cup of moonshine in hand and doubt written across her face but she doesn’t say anything as Kane pulls up a stool and sits him down,

“Drink,” he orders, “Relax.”

Clarke looks down her nose as he puts his arms on the bar and drops his head, “How’s your day going?”

“Broke up a fight, prevented a divorce and an execution,” he reports, “Yours?”

“Prevented a mass-poisoning, treated four cases of the clap, and saw Miller naked,”

“For non-medical reasons.” She adds, holding her cup out behind her, not bothering to look as Monty refills it,

“Here’s to productivity,” he smirks, receiving his own cup and they toast each other before drinking deep.

Several hours later, they’re lying back on the couch, their heads at opposite ends and their legs tangled together, neither of them willing or able to walk to one of their beds. Bellamy is staring up at the ceiling and pretending it’s the night sky,

“Are you fertile?” he asks and Clarke snorts,

“Depends on why you’re asking.” She replies, her shoe tapping him in the thigh.

He rolls his eyes, “I have no idea if I can even have kids,” he says,

“I never bothered finding out.”

“You probably are,” she tells him, “I’ve seen your medical files, you’re healthy in every other way.”

He hums, “What about you?” he asks, “Can you have kids?”

Clarke sighs, shifting slightly, “I had endometriosis and on the Ark, and was told that I would have a fifteen percent chance of being able to conceive and carry to term…after Mt Weather, my mom discovered that the girls implants were no longer working and ran tests on me, I now have a ninety-five percent chance of getting pregnant and carrying to term.”

Bellamy’s blood ran cold and he propped himself up on his elbows, staring at her in horror and she nods, “Yeah, that was the face Kane made when we explained why we’d need to be pulling the girls from the hundred off work and into the infirmary as soon as possible.”

Silence falls between them for ten or so minutes before Clarke’s speaks again,

“Thing is, I don’t even want to be pregnant,” she confides, “I mean, I like kids, but I’ve seen women giving birth, the blood, the filth, the tearing, and all the complications afterwards…especially down here…”

Yeah, remembering Octavia’s birth had always been good incentive for Bellamy to check that his partners were protected.

“Would you ever want kids?” he asks and she snorts,

“Honestly? I always just assumed that one day you’d find a kid somewhere, orphaned or abandoned and bring it back to camp and I’d be a mother.”

That does kind of sound like something he would do.

“You don’t think I’d come back and just foist a kid on you, do you?” he queries,

“Just hand it off and expect you to raise it?”

She rolls her eyes, “Obviously we would raise it together.”

“Obviously?” he questions and she sighs, “Yes, Bellamy.”

“How is that obvious?”

She’s pushed herself up into a sitting position and is staring at him, opening her mouth when they hear a resounding crash from outside, followed by steps pounding down the hall.

“John!” Emori’s voice reached their ears, “You get back here, right now!”

Bellamy sighed, “We should probably…”

“Yeah.”

#bellarke fanfiction #bellamy x clarke #bellamy blake

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leeladasiyoga · 4 years

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Rebuilding From The Ground of Being / II

Rebuilding on the Level of Practice

If you have landed on this page before reading Part 1, click here.

In part 1, I described how consciousness in embodied (human) form identifies solely with that part of itself from which knowledge (i.e. a collection of concepts that includes images of self as a separate subject/object) arises-- as Descartes did. Here, I’d like to explore what is presupposed by this misidentification and a way of practice in the time of pandemic.

It is inherent in the experience of embodied consciousness to feel, as it were, off or outside of its center. This is what allows for each of us to mistake ourselves for one or another of the images we create, crystallizing the ego-self. When consciousness becomes aware of this as its underlying condition driving; as the driver of all his action, as a means of fulfillment; this it is said, is the first moment of awakening. This is the beginning of the spiritual journey.

However, by the function of consciousness’ conditioning, it views the journey ahead as a search for what is lost; it conceives a state to be attained (and in so doing creates and identifies with another concept) and makes it way by grasping (which it subconsciously justifies by believing it to be the highest attainment). Without the guidance of a truth-realized teacher, or at least one who is oriented towards the truth*, nothing proceeds from the initial awakening except greater confusion. This could cause someone to later conclude, because of the futility of the endeavor, that the Truth is but an illusion. The only other outcome is the aggrandizement of the ego and all the delusions it has of itself.

This is more important than it first appears. The necessity of clarity surrounding the goal of Yoga hardly needs justification when clarity or clear-seeing is the ‘goal’ itself. So we must proceed accordingly, according to the ‘goal’. Isn’t that freedom from the delusion; freedom from the mistaking oneself to be anything other than what it is? This is important.

The metaphor of the well-equipped runner at a race makes this more clear. (S)he can have the best engineered shoes but if (s)he is running in the opposite direction of the finish line, or in any other direction than that of the finish line, equipment does not matter. In this case, the different practices may be perfectly engineered technologies, but without right orientation, serve absolutely no purpose. This a metaphor often employed in tradition to emphasize the importance of right knowledge for the practice to actually work. To this, I would personally add two more things. Without right orientation, the practices are not without effect and neither are these effects benign. Practice without right view, barring divine intervention, most certainly creates greater delusion, leaving one more muddled than before encountering the practices. The second is with proper orientation, one is able to discern which practices are in most alignment with the goal, and most appropriate for them at any given time, insofar as this goal is concerned.**

Especially now, with the majority in isolation, I am compelled to revisit what is most fundamental about the spiritual journey. In fact, traditionally, darshan or view, would be the first teaching a student would receive from their teacher, well before any type of practice. This pandemic, that has ravaged everything we as a society have been without question devoted to preserving, has and will in the coming weeks, and months, serve as a mass initiation for those who’ve yet to experience initial awakening.*** And for those already (formally) on the path (because we really are only ever on the path, even when we think we aren’t), we now have more time to devote to the ever-deepening of our sadhana.

If we are to scale the highest of heights through practice; and for it to bear the sweetest possible fruit, we must revisit its foundations and honestly inquire into its stability-- how rooted in truth is our practice? There are enough truth-realized human beings that have both come before and walk amongst us, who have expressed the true glory of Being which is the radiance of our essence-nature-- the recognition of which is the end of suffering and delusion.

And with them came practices that lead to both the direct experience of our essence-nature and the means by which we are able to abide in it, while living and participating in the world. To encounter these teachings should mean the end of our seeking and the end of our grasping. If we encounter these teachings and have understood the direction to which it has intended to orient us, truly, that would mean the end of all seeking and the end of all grasping.

Our essence-nature cannot be found, because it was never lost; it cannot be attained, because it cannot be grasped; and it cannot be seen because it is the place from which all seeing is done.

There wasn’t a time that you weren’t who you truly are; even in your darkest and most confused hours, for if it were to be the truth of your being, then there cannot be a time that you weren’t it, or that it was not you. This part of you cannot be caused and it cannot be uncaused. Your practice and your good deeds do not create or increase it; and even when you act out of your pain or your conditioning, causing harm, you are not diminished, and certainly not destroyed.

I cannot prove it to you through a logical argument because it is the condition by which anything is. All arguments presuppose it. It is in that same way that you cannot see it, because it is the place from which all seeing is done.

You can only be it, which you already are.

That which we seek to attain is already and has always been our original state. The spiritual path is not a matter of fashioning yourself into a certain way, which you currently are not. It is a matter of becoming aware of what already is, or directly experiencing what is. It eludes our search because it is not an object of awareness but the condition by which we can be aware (of anything)-- it is awareness itself. You are awareness: the field from and within which all experience, all things come and go, rise and fall -- the world, phenomena, the mind and the body, they are all within you.

But from the time that we learn to speak, we are conditioned towards one mode of being, where our attention and sense-perception is constantly if not permanently directed at their objects. In this mode of being objects appear as external to awareness which is viewed as within the body-mind. The different structures that make up our culture and society engage us from this level alone, forming the totality of our experience. It is why we cannot help to mistake it for the sole possibility and the only way of being. We are locked into this way of perceiving-- which becomes the basis of our experience, our reality. So while our essence-nature is always present, because of the way this mode of being is configured, it passes underneath our perception.

So the fundamental practice is one that allows us direct access to our essence-nature. This practice is what is called meditation in the form of awareness cultivation. Turning your faculty of attention unto awareness itself, the field within which all things arise and return to. This is meditation in its truest sense of the word: cultivating an awareness of awareness; or leaning into the open presence that is at the core of your being. Traditionally, Yoga referred to the inner practice of awareness cultivation, the practice that brings about a direct experience of the ground of all Being.

And it is in many ways, as simple and as straight-forward as it sounds. Why shouldn’t it be, when it is already what we are? Only the ego-self, through the mind, rejects the simple-- it rejects the simple because in the simple it has no room to hide. Over-complication and doing is the way of the mind and the ego-self.

From this perspective meditation is better understood as something one progressively relaxes into, rather than something that one does. Meditation is synonymous to true relaxation where one’s awareness moves from a state of contraction (i.e. grasping unto any one of its concepts-objects) to one of expansion; opening to the fullness of itself, to hold all that is, as they are, or as they manifest. True relaxation is pure, open, attentive (devotional, non-judgmental) awareness. Meditation is not a thought or emotion-free state per se but can appear to be so because on a level of pure, open presence, we do not experience the same attachment or aversion that we have to any given experience that the mind has.

This practice moves in the direction opposite to what we have been conditioned to believe and how we have been conditioned to behave. So much so that as a people we’ve built ourselves into structures that keep (our awareness) in this contracted and stimulated state. Our body-mind is chronically contracted; our nervous-system is perpetually in its sympathetic (fight or flight) state; silence and non-doing is incredibly uncomfortable if not frightening. In this day and age, we’ve managed to create a whole list of activities and call it relaxation and we’ve now set out to achieve yoga.

Then it turns out that the practice in its application is not as simple because it is counter to our conditioning. This is profound! If you can realize that it is our conditioning that is the impediment to experiencing our essence-nature, you will never see relaxation in the same way again. You will see deep rest, which is preparatory for true relaxation, and which from here on you will know as meditation or awareness cultivation, as an act of rebellion on one level, and truly divine, on an even more fundamental level.

For most of us, including those who have been practicing some forms of hatha yoga, it will be a challenge finding their way through rest. It will prove to be radically humbling. During this indefinite period of isolation, whether you are well-practiced or only now deciding to look into some form of yoga, consider rest as foundational to, and perhaps for the time being, the main part of your practice, particularly if you find it difficult to sit in stillness, absolute stillness, for more than ten minutes. Your ability to rest and be still is an accurate barometer for where you are.

Take time to ask yourself, before beginning your next practice, to whom or what does it (your practice) serve? Is it in service of some an idealized version of oneself, which is but another mental construct? Has the ego-structure co-opted your practice? How are you conditioned and how does this show up in your motive for practice? What might your practice look like if your intention was to open to the possibility that lies beyond what you know, what you believe, and what you think of as true? If you, even just for a moment, allowed for the possibility that you are perfect, that your perfection is so much so that it destroys all ideations of perfection, what would your practice look like? What would you be doing? What emotion, state, or mood comes up for you as you consider this possibility? What actions and activities do they inspire?

As we revisit the foundations on which we set our practice, on both the motives behind and the ideas we’ve taken on about yoga (e.g. realization, enlightenment, etc.), I invite you to include in your reflection a remembrance of the origins of the practice and the first yogis. They who, in response to the beginnings of the stratification of society in service of formal economy, as as we know it; these yogis, as an act of rebellion to the growing materialization of society, that would later glorify industry, productivity, and the bottom line above all, stepped out of the system, leaving these newly formed cities. And they went into the forest. They went into the forest to discover the truth, the truth of our humanity and the truth of being. It is often taught that many of these yogis had renounced the world, when in actuality it was a renunciation of a world-view and a culture that was out of harmony with the natural expression of human and natural life.

This was yoga. And I dare say, in light of the awakening brought on by current events, this again will be Yoga.

Addendum:

There is power waiting to be embodied in this time that the majority of us are in quarantine and isolation. And by tuning in, we come into the only real ground from which we can rebuild the world.

I want to point out that the only thing we have been truly separated from is the way by which we have been living that is based on a narrative we have unconsciously taken on. What we are not separated from, what we have never been and never could be separated from, is one another (all manifestation of the One), that is to say our Self, which is the very source of truth (sat), wisdom (chit) and bliss (ananda). By being separated from all the noise, and all the non-essential, we can move towards the direct experience of ourselves, through practice.

Because the fundamental practice is one of opening, surrender (of all concepts), and true relaxation, which is unavailable to many of us at this time because of our conditioning, we take the first steps towards it by deep rest, by looking into the other practices that restore and free the body-mind. I will be sharing and guiding some of them in the coming days. If you would like to take part, please subscribe to my website.

Contemplation:

The last thing I want to invite you to contemplate, as a possibility, is the idea that there is only truth, transcending ideas of right and wrong and good or bad, etc.

That is to say that while it is inherent in embodied consciousness to have forgotten, so to speak, the truth of its essence-nature, it does not mean that there is something inherently wrong or flawed in it or that it is actually incomplete. Can we be with this paradox? Can we sense into the limits that our concepts place on our experience, and sense into the open expanse beyond its limits?

Awareness wills itself into the concealment of its essence-nature. Awareness is not a static reality but is living, is pulsating-- how can we say that we are experiencing Life (indicated by movement) and not think that our very-essence, which is Life / Awareness itself, would exhibit the same qualities of aliveness? Awareness’ experience of itself is ever-deepening, infinitely, and a part of this unfolding is cycles of concealment and revelation.

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