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green-eyeddragonfanfiction · 5 years

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By Chance

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader Summary: A/B/O!AU. Female!Reader is an Omega. Alphas and Omegas are rare, and Reader’s been able to avoid alphas through sheer force of will and luck in equal parts. Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, violence, knotting, vaginal sex, unprotected sex Word Count: ~9k A/N: I’m legitimately pissed this got deleted in the great Tumblr Purge 2k18. This was my most popular singular fic. Fuck the new Community Guidelines. In I wasn’t clear, this is a repost of my original work that got deleted in December 2018.

Bucky’s POV

The first time he smelled her was when he was on a mission. Vanilla and Wildflower. The single-minded focus that had been drilled into him by the Hydra brainwashing and training was severed in an instant and his head whipped around to search for the source. He tore his mask off and dropped it onto the ground unceremoniously, sniffing the air frantically as he tried to pinpoint the scent. His blood sang in his veins.

The scents of the city made it hard to pinpoint her, but he wouldn’t give up. He left the spot he’d been staking out for hours, rifle forgotten on the ledge as he jumped off of the roof, dropping two stories onto the ground and rolled to diffuse the worst of the impact. His knees protested in agony anyway, but he ignored them along with the shocked cries of bystanders as he followed her scent.

He’d smelled other Omegas before. Most of them had been claimed, just a passing flicker of recognition in the back of his mind while he was out on mission. Rarely, he’d catch the scent of an unclaimed Omega, but even then it was only a brief, fleeting distraction, his Hydra programming overriding his biological programming.

Something about this Omega broke the control Hydra had over his mind, cutting through the fog with ease. He realized distantly that he’d started remembering things about himself; the feeling of chasing after an omega was familiar, linking him back to a life that had long been erased from his memory.

He had to find her. He wove between pedestrians, most of them avoiding him, likely in fear. They didn’t know who he was- the deadly assassin The Winter Soldier-, but between the way he was dressed, his metal arm, and the pheromones he was surely exerting, they couldn’t get out of his way fast enough.

The scent was growing stronger and there was something else there, now. Fear? Yes, it was fear. She was afraid. Had she caught wind of him? Omegas were sometimes known to have a greater sense of smell than even Alphas. Still, it seemed unlikely; he should have been upwind from her.

He picked up his pace. He knew he was getting closer; her scent was getting stronger with each step he took. He could nearly taste it. She wasn’t in heat yet but she was close- oh so close.

His search led him to a sleek skyscraper in the middle of the city. People in expensive suits came and went but Bucky paid them little to no mind, threw open the doors, and made a beeline for the security gate. The moment he’d entered the building her scent had nearly overwhelmed him. She clearly came here often. The guards tried to stop him from going further into the building, but he quickly incapacitated them, a feral snarl on his lips; he was still in enough of his right mind to leave them breathing, but every second he spent inhaling her scent whittled away at his patience. He wrecked the alarm system and destroyed the computers at the front desk for good measure.

He took the stairs, feet eating up the levels faster than any normal man could dream of imitating. He paused at each new floor long enough to open the door and see if her scent originated there, but each new level was a bust and the scent only got stronger as he got closer to the top. He growled when he reached the end of the stairs, glaring at the sign on the wall signaling that the only other thing above him now was the roof. He yanked on the door handle but it only creaked in its frame. He gripped it instead with his metal hand and pulled hard, bracing one foot against the door frame for leverage. The gears in his arm whirred against the strain he was putting on it, but after a moment the door gave a pitiful squeal as he wrenched it off of its hinges and threw it behind him. It clattered loudly down the stairwell but Bucky barely heard it. Her scent washed over him like a tidal wave. It seemed the Omega worked on the top floor. He stepped through the door and took in his surroundings quickly. The top floor appeared to be a lavish office and waiting room. The door to the office was closed, thick wooden doors hiding whatever lied beyond. His enhanced hearing picked up on something hiding behind the receptionist’s desk and he stalked forward slowly, not making a sound.

Whoever was behind it was breathing heavily, obviously terrified. The scent he’d followed here was completely overriding his sense of smell. He could tell there were usually multiple people on this floor, but he couldn’t pinpoint how many or where they were at that moment. He lunged over the desk suddenly, pinning the person on the other side to the ground.

The receptionist shrieked in fear, staring up at him, wide-eyed. He leaned down next to her neck and inhaled deeply. He nearly recoiled in disgust. Just a Beta. Not the scent he followed here.

“Who else is on this level?” he asked, voice rough with disuse.

Speaking only seemed to scare her more; she let out a squeak and closed her eyes tightly as though he’d disappear if she couldn’t see him anymore.

“Answer me,” he growled, pheromones rolling off his body in waves. Betas couldn’t smell them like Alphas and Omegas could, but they still influenced them subconsciously.

“My boss. Ms. (Y/L/N),” she whimpered, breathless.

“Run,” he commanded, standing a half second later to let her up. She bolted to her feet and sprinted for the door to the stairs, her high heels flying off her feet as she went. She disappeared into the stairwell in a flurry of curled blond hair and Bucky shifted his attention to the doors of the office.

He walked up and yanked on the doors. They didn’t open, but he hadn’t expected them to. The door to this floor had been reinforced and every other door he’d tried hadn’t been. This floor, this ‘Ms. (Y/L/N),’ had special protection.

“Open the door,” he demanded, his nostrils flaring in anger. He could try and be civil, but his blood was boiling.

“Not gonna happen,” came a muffled response from the other side. “I know what you are, and this isn’t the first time one of you has come after me,” she said, sounding determined.

Defiance? From an Omega? That was a new one. He grinned wolfishly. It seemed like this might actually be a little bit of fun.

“I tried bein’ nice. Stand back, little Omega,” he warned. He waited a second before he reeled his arm back and let his fist fly towards the door. To his surprise, a loud resounding metal clang rang throughout the room. His fist had breached a layer of wood only to be met with a layer of steel. He snarled his anger, slamming his flesh fist against the door in annoyance.

“This won’t keep me out,” he said, bringing his fist back for another blow.

“That’s what they all say,” she said, sounding breathless. He tasted her fear and arousal in the air and he groaned. Why did she smell so damn amazing?

“Well, Doll, those others ain’t nothin’ like me,” he said as he let another devastating punch fly at the door.

“It’s reinforced with steel, so unless you brought a battering ram-” she was cut off when he landed another blow which dented the metal and caused the doors to squeak on their hinges.

“Like I said, stand back,” he said, smirking, as he threw more punches at the door. Two more blows and they flew open, one barely staying on its hinges. The other flew a foot or so until it crashed to the ground, shaking the floor with its weight. His eyes locked onto her immediately and he groaned with desire at the sight in front of him.

Your POV

In somewhat detached horror, you watched from your spot on the floor on the other side of the room as your expensive reinforced doors were effectively destroyed. Never in all your years had an alpha actually managed to break through them. Hell, none of them had ever made it past the stairwell door. You knew this was the alpha that had been following you from the center of town. His scent had come flooding in the moment he made it to the top floor; a rainy forest and gunpowder. It affected you worse than any alpha ever had, as evidenced by your sopping underwear. You were panting and you were so hot if felt like your body was on fire. You rubbed your thighs together, needing to relieve some of the tension that had built up there. It didn’t help; in fact, it only seemed to make it worse. His blue eyes locked onto yours and you trembled, hand slipping down between your legs to rub yourself through your clothing.

He was huge, this alpha, and armed to the teeth. You spotted at least two guns, a few grenades, and a knife. It only took a quick glance at his left arm to understand how he’d made it through your door. His pupils dilated until the steel blue of his irises was but a thin line around the endless black.

“Please go,” you whined, desperate, unable to look away from him.

“I can’t do that, little Omega,” he said, stepping towards you. “You’re effecting me as much as I’m effecting you,” he said, closing the distance between you in a few measured steps. You glanced down at the bulge in his pants, confirming his words. Even though he was wearing tight leather it was obvious he was well endowed.

He used every ounce of his patience and newly regained compassion as he knelt down in front of you, eyes roaming every inch of you. She’s gorgeous, this Omega, he thought to himself. He had to have you; how you’d stay unclaimed was slightly beyond him. You could have any man you wanted, Alpha or no.

“You won’t relieve that need by yourself,” he whispered, running a hand up your thigh slowly. You whimpered at the touch, eyes hazy with want. He leaned in, nuzzling your cheek as his metal hand snuck under your shirt, making you shiver. It felt downright frigid compared to your blazing skin. “I know you want me, Omega. I smelled it before I even entered the building. Accept me. I’ll make everything better,” he murmured, breath tickling your ear. His voice was a low, hoarse growl, as though he wasn’t used to speaking.

His words fried what was left of your brain, and your primal Omega urges kicked in. You nodded, arms wrapping around his neck as you planted kisses onto his neck and jaw. “Please, Alpha. Help me,” you murmured.

“Good girl. I’m going to make you feel so good,” he purred, lifting you up from the ground as he stood. He pushed you up against your desk, hands roving your body greedily. You wrapped a leg around his waist, grinding your core against his strained leather pants. He growled, pulling your hips into his as he crushed himself against your core. You moaned, the friction feeling amazing against your touch-starved pussy. He grabbed your leg and pulled it off of his hip. You only had a second to wonder at his actions before he ripped open the button on your pants and peeled them down your legs, nearly taking your underwear with them. Your heels came off with them, clattering to the ground beside your desk.

His fingers ran along the lace of your underwear slowly. You looked up at him and he stared down at you as though you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He relished the way the lace felt against his fingers and the way you looked at him. Your gaze made him feel once again like the powerful Alpha he was.

His fingers slowly snuck between your legs and he captured your lips in his. His kiss was hungry and messy and he groaned into it when he felt how wet you were.

He broke the kiss, smirking down at you. “All this for me?” he asked, running his fingers up and down your slit over the lace. His fingers lingered over your clit, gently teasing it. The touches wrenched a lewd moan from you and you nodded as you bit your lip to try and stop more from spilling forth.

“Yes, Alpha,” you whimpered, hand reaching forward to palm at the bulge in his pants.

“Do you want my knot, Omega?” he growled as he ripped your underwear from your body, the lacy cloth quickly forgotten as it fell to the floor.

“Yes, Alpha. Please, take me. I want your knot,” you moaned as his flesh fingers found their way into your soaking cunt. He pumped them in and out of you mercilessly and you arched into his touch, needing more. Your nipples strained against your shirt and bra, begging for his touch. He removed his fingers and put them in his mouth, sucking your slick off of them.

“You taste so sweet, little Omega,” he groaned, holding you against himself with one arm while he undid his pants with the other. “I bet you’ll taste even better when you’re in heat,” he growled into your ear. With one final button he tugged his pants down enough for his cock to spring free. You moaned at the sight, the thought of having him fuck you while you were in heat sent a new wave of heat straight to your core.

Suddenly, his attention snapped towards the door, a vicious snarl on his lips. The sound was enough to terrify you, even if it wasn’t directed at you. You’d heard the noise, too, but you were too enthralled by the Alpha in front of you to pay too much attention to it. You’d let the entire city watch if it meant you’d get this Alpha’s knot.

To your dismay he let you go and did his pants back up. Your hands ran up and down his arms, worried you’d done something wrong. “Alpha?” you asked tentatively. You didn’t want to make him angrier.

“Stay here,” he growled, turning back to give you a passionate kiss that stole your breath. He looked you up and down, as if memorizing every inch of you, before he stepped out of your embrace and through the doorway.

His orders were clear, so you stayed put, even when you heard glass break outside. Your Alpha was strong. He’d take care of whatever the noise was.

Your Alpha? You were shocked at how quickly you’d begun thinking of him that way. He wasn’t your Alpha yet. He hadn’t marked you. You rubbed your neck at the junction of your neck and shoulder where the mark would be located and sighed. Soon, you promised yourself. You’d finally have your mate. No more having to try and fill the void with betas. You’d finally have an alpha; an Alpha stronger than any others you’d found.

When you heard the telltale thud of a body hitting the floor you were scared. When he didn’t come back in the room you were terrified. Orders be damned. If your Alpha was in trouble you’d go and help him. You weren’t helpless.

You threw your pants on, ignoring your destroyed underwear nearby. You peeked carefully around the precariously hanging door into the waiting room and your eyes widened in shock. The room was empty and foreign smells lingered in the air. One of the thick glass panes of the building’s windows was destroyed and wind gusted in from the outside. Most worrying, though, was that your alpha was missing, as was whoever was just there. You couldn’t smell blood in the air, so whatever had happened hadn’t ended in bloodshed.

You searched for more clues, but couldn’t find anything. Eventually your receptionist, Lisa, returned, a SWAT team at her heels.

“Where is he?” one of the masked men asked, as the others fanned out, canvasing the area.

You stared at him for a moment. It was finally sinking in that he was gone, and you had no idea where. You didn’t even know his name.

“I… don’t know,” you said, sinking to the floor in despair.

Years Later, Your POV

You threw another book onto your already impressive pile with a huff. You took a break to stretch, standing and lacing your fingers together as you extended your arms towards the ceiling. You were so close to a breakthrough.

You picked up the small bottle on your desk and stared at the small light green pills inside. They were your greatest creation to date; pills that lessened your heats to almost nothing. They made them bearable, allowing you to scrape by with one night stands with betas in lieu of an Alpha. You made and distributed them to any Omegas that happened the find their way to you, but most Omegas thought you a fool for not just finding an Alpha.

The problem was you had. You’d found the man you wanted to be your Alpha but he’d vanished, and any other after him just felt like a pale imitation. You’d searched for him for months after, but he was a ghost. The footage from your building had been scrubbed and you couldn’t very well go and google brown-haired blue-eyed Adonis badass Alpha. …Well, you could. In fact, you’d tried that after a few weeks of fruitless searching. It hadn’t helped.

Instead, you focused on protecting yourself and your sanity in his absence. He hadn’t marked you which made you a target for any alpha whose eye you caught. You kept yourself busy with your work: you were a bio engineer who specialized in revolutionary cybernetic tech that could be integrated with human physiology. During your free time you focused on improving the formula for your pills. Your unique background in bio engineering had made it possible to create them in the first place.

Today was the last day you’d be able to use your private library for a while. You had a job in New York for a week or so; a special case that you’d been paid handsomely for. Most of the thick leather bound books in your library were rare tomes on Alpha and Omega physiology. A lot of the information in them wasn’t public knowledge. Alphas and Omegas were so uncommon that some people didn’t even think you existed.

You put the bottle of pills back down on your desk and groaned.

“Time to finish packing,” you grumbled to yourself, resigned to the fact that you wouldn’t learn anything new today. You were just starting your heat and, as usual, your mind was a jumbled mess. Your new client demanded you go out as soon as you could, paying you a king’s ransom for a timely arrival. The private plane was set to pick you up in three hours at a small airport just outside the city.

You threw a few pieces of clothing into the suitcase, followed by a choice few books, then threw the bottle of pills into your purse. It took you an entire hour to find everything else you needed, and with the traffic that your phone told you had popped up suddenly, you knew you’d barely make it to the airport on time.

An hour and a half later you were boarding the small plane. You raised an eyebrow at the name on the outside.

Stark Industries? As in Tony Stark the Iron Man, Tony Stark?

Once you were settled on board a woman who said she worked for the person who hired you handed you a tablet.

“It has all the information we have on your patient’s condition,” she explained as she turned it on. Holograms popped up, showing you 3D renderings of what you had to work with. It seemed like the prosthetic had been torn off just past the shoulder. They’d patched it closed, but whoever had made the original was beyond their reach so they’d found you, the leading expert on cutting edge prostheses.

You spent the entire flight studying and planning, using the high tech tablet to make blueprints. You were surprised when they said they’d provide you with Vibranium. You’d read about the stuff in your research before, but it was too expensive to warrant putting effort into incorporating it into your projects. You wanted your ideas to applicable to the general populace, and Vibranium was definitely beyond the average person’s financial reach. Still, you were excited for the chance to work with it.

By the time the plane landed you had several schematics and ideas ready. A large man met you at baggage claim and led you to a beautiful silver Porsche.

You gawked at it while he loaded your bag. He opened the door for you and you slid inside. You were well off, but never spent your money on anything so extravagant. Nearly all the money you made went back into your research.

“It’ll be about a half hour. I’m Happy, by the way. Happy Hogan,” the driver informed you, and you nodded.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you said, offering him a courteous smile. You decided to enjoy the sights while you had the chance. It seemed like you were headed north out of the city.

Like Happy promised, you arrived at your destination a half hour later.

“I’m working for the Avengers?” you asked, dumbfounded, as you stared at the large Avengers’ logo on the side of the building.

“Did the Stark plane not give it away?” he asked, grinning.

“Tony Stark isn’t the Avengers,” you argued, gawking open-mouthed at the compound as Happy drove further into the grounds.

“True, I suppose. But what use does Tony have for a bio engineer?” Happy asked, raising an eyebrow at you as he drove the Porsche into the underground garage.

“Well there was that thing with his heart and the metal bits a while ago,” you said, ogling the various vehicles in the garage. A person could sell half the things in there and live like a king for the rest of their life.

“You have a point,” he conceded. “But no, you’re not here for Tony,” Happy said, pulling into an empty parking spot. “Now, Friday will show you to your room. You’re welcome to start whenever you want tomorrow. It’s…” -he checked the watch on his wrist- “4:12 am and there’s a bed with your name on it,” he said, turning the car off.

“I’d actually like to get started as soon as possible, if that’s alright with my patient,” you said, all business as you gathered your things.

“Alright. Got that, Friday?” Happy asked, looking at his watch.

“Understood, Mr. Hogan,” came an accented AI voice from his watch.

“I’ll take your bag to your room and Friday’ll direct you to the lab,” Happy said, opening his door.

You were about to speak when it hit you. You wrenched your door open, nearly stumbling over yourself in your haste to get out of the car. You sniffed the air experimentally. No, your nose wasn’t fooling you. You threw your bag over your shoulder as you searched for the door into the compound. You spotted it and sprinted for it, running on pure instinct.

“You’re welcome,” Happy said grumpily behind you. You barely registered his voice as you yanked the door open and practically threw yourself through the doorway.

The smell washed over you, nearly overpowering you then and there. You focused your efforts, zeroing in on the freshest trail and followed your nose, weaving through the halls. You vaguely heard the AI chirping at you in its Irish brogue but you didn’t pay it any mind as you let your instincts take over. In the back of your mind you worried a little at how easily your Omega side was taking over, but that voice was quickly quashed. Slowly, the sleek, professional interior gave way to homey hallways. You thought you spotted a giant flat screen and a huge modern kitchen, but ignored them and any other living soul you came across.

You walked for a few minutes before your surroundings changed again. The rooms on either side appeared to be labs. You heard the AI chirping ahead of you. At this point, the scent you’d been following was strong enough to make you dizzy and you barely registered the doors a little ahead and to the right of you opening.

He stepped through the doorway and your eyes instantly met his. You both stood there, frozen, moment suspended in time as you both took each other in. You almost didn’t believe your eyes. If your other senses weren’t telling you that your eyes were telling the truth you would have thought him an illusion.

“Omega,” he whispered, half smile appearing on his lips. Only your enhanced hearing allowed you to pick up his voice. Just like that, the illusion of stillness was shattered and you launched yourself at him. He caught you with one arm and wrapped it around you and buried his face in your hair, peppering the top of your head with kisses. Your arms snaked around his waist and you planted kisses on his chest. He smelled even better than you remembered.

“You’re really here,” you mumbled into his chest, inhaling his scent deeply. The action sent a powerful ache to your core. Him being in your arms seemed to completely destroy the effects your pills usually had over your heat.

“What are you doing here, little Omega?” he murmured into your hair, trying his best to control his urges. You smelled divine. You were definitely in heat, but something was inhibiting the full effects.

You looked up, finally realizing what felt off. He was only holding you with one arm. You looked at what was left of his left arm and frowned, thoughtful. “You’re my patient,” you said, brows furrowed. Seeing your Alpha at anything but his best sent your Omega instincts into hyper drive. Your fingers trailed lightly over the metal stump that was currently covered by a tight form-fitting sleeve.

“You’re-” he began, and you nodded, not needing him to finish the question.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), bio-engineer and leading authority on technologically advanced prosthesis,” you said proudly.

His smile was blinding and you felt heat creep up your neck in embarrassment. “You’re amazing,” he said, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. You kissed back eagerly, savoring the way he tasted. He licked your bottom lip and you happily let him in. Your tongues tangled together before he truly claimed your lips, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss and he shuddered at the sound, pulling you close. He broke the kiss after a minute and you stared at each other, both panting.

His fingers came up and stroked a line up your neck, lingering at the spot a mark would normally be. “After all this time? Still no mark?” he whispered, admiring how you leaned into his touch.

“No. I want yours, Alpha. I’ve wanted your mark and yours alone since the day I met you,” you said, gazing into his eyes as you said the words.

He bit his lip, biting back a groan. “C’mere, Doll,” he said, taking your hand as he led you into the lab room he’d come from. “Black out the windows, Friday,” he told the AI. You placed your bag on the table by the door as you passed it.

“Yes, Sargent Barnes,” the AI responded. You glanced behind you in time to see the windows turn an opaque black. The door had barely shut behind you when he turned and stared at you seriously.

Something the AI said sparked something in the back of your mind.

“Barnes?”

He frowned, suddenly looking hesitant. “Yeah. My name’s James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Bucky. Most people nowadays know me as the Winter Soldier, though,” he said grimly. He didn’t want to lose you to his past, but he also wanted to tell you the truth. He needed you to accept him for who he was.

Your eyes widened in surprise and Bucky grit his teeth, ready for you to run screaming. To his surprise, you didn’t seem to be afraid; at least, he couldn’t smell it on you. You simply stared at him, studying his face closely.

“Last chance to back out, little Omega. Run away if you don’t want this… if you can,” he added wickedly, sending a shiver down your spine. You stood on your toes, kissing him from his neck to his jaw to, finally, his mouth.

“I want this, Alpha. Please,” you said, desperation creeping into your voice.

He groaned, arm going around to pull you flush against him. “Say it again,” he demanded, lips trailing kisses down your neck.

“I want you, Alpha. I want your mark and your knot,” you sighed, eyes closing in the ecstasy of him touching you.

He hummed his approval. “Such a good girl,” he cooed, yanking your shirt over your head. You returned the favor, peeling his shirt off of his muscled torso.

You threw it to the side and ran your hands over his well defined muscles. He planted kisses all over your shoulders and on your collar bone, but stiffened when he felt your fingers lightly trace over the scarring that ran along the metal fused to his shoulder.

He felt you shift in his arm and he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when you ghosted your lips over the taught, marred skin.

“Every inch of you is beautiful to me, Bucky,” you whispered, turning his head gently with your hand so you could look him in the eyes.

A shiver ran up his spine at the sound of his name on your lips and he groaned. “Little Omega, I hope you’re well rested because you’re not getting sleep any time soon,” he warned, eyes flashing dangerously.

You giggled and flashed him a filthy grin. “Promises, promises, Alpha,” you said devilishly.

His lips were back on yours in a flash and a practiced hand made quick work of the button and zipper on your pants which pooled at your feet a second later. You kissed back hungrily and quickly stepped out of them, kicking them out of the way as your fingers danced under the waistband of his sweats.

He growled against your lips at your teasing, tangled his fingers in the back of your underwear and tugged them up sharply. You let out a startled gasp; the mingled pain and pleasure on your sensitive core sent slick dripping down your thighs.

His message came in loud and clear: stop teasing. You obliged, tearing your lips from his to trail kisses and nibbles down his neck and chest. As you went you tugged down his pants, taking his boxers down with them. His cock sprung free swinging heavily between his legs and you nearly started salivating at the sight.

“Like what you see?” he purred as he gazed down at you, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Yes, Alpha,” you murmured as you stood. You reached between your heated bodies and wrapped your hand loosely around his length and stroked slowly. He groaned and, in a move that brought on a strong sense of deja vu, tore them clean away from your body. You yelped in surprise and your hands flew to his shoulders as he picked you up, supporting you with an arm around your waist as he lowered you gently onto your back on the ground. The cool marble floor against your burning skin made you shiver. He placed himself firmly between your legs, single arm keeping him from crashing down on top of you.

He kissed you passionately on the lips and you mewled into his mouth when he ground his hips against yours tantalizingly slowly, his hard cock rubbing against your clit. He trailed kisses down your body until he reached your breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. He sucked lewdly at it and ran his teeth lightly over it before taking the hard bud between his teeth. Your back arched with pleasure, fingers tangling into his hair. After a moment he switched to the other, giving it the same care and attention as the first.

You tried to hold back your moans, but a few whimpers were forced out of your lips at his ministrations. “Let me hear you, babydoll,” he ordered, moving backwards, kissing his way down your stomach as he went.

As it turned out, you didn’t need to think twice about following his command. In fact, you didn’t have the luxury of thinking at all. As soon as his tongue licked a thick stripe through your folds and swirled around your swollen clit you moaned loudly. Your fingernails scraped against his scalp as your fingers ran through his hair, earning a deep groan that you felt all the way in your core and you whimpered at the sound.

“So wet for me, Omega,” he hummed, before his tongue slid into your sopping hole, nose nudging your clit lightly as he swirled his tongue inside of you. You bucked your hips, unable to keep still against the pleasure he was giving you. His arm moved up to hold you in place and you threw your head back, moaning out your pleasure.

“Alpha, it feels so good, please don’t stop!” you begged, relishing the way his tongue sped up. He hummed against your skin, causing that coil in your stomach to wind even tighter. Your tugged gently at his hair, pulling a moan from his lips, and apparently he couldn’t take it anymore.

You whimpered at the loss of his mouth and tongue, but didn’t have time to dwell on it. He was kissing you an instant later, and you moaned into the kiss as his tongue invaded your mouth, the taste of yourself on his lips. He ground his hips against yours, his cock sliding through your wet folds.

“Need you, Alpha,” you murmured, reaching down to line his cock up with your entrance.

“I know, Omega,” he whispered, claiming your lips once again as he slowly entered you. He slid inside of you easily, your dripping wet cunt making it easy.

A second later he bottomed out inside of you, hips flush with yours. His tip nudged at your cervix, the mingled pain and pleasure sending a new wave of arousal through your system. Your walls clenched around him and he groaned. It was obvious it took everything he had to keep from pounding into you wildly right then and there.

His gaze locked with yours; you helped ground him. Once you were sure you’d adjusted to his size you brought his lips to yours and kissed him deeply. “Please, Alpha. Fuck me. I need your knot,” you begged.

Like that, the control he had crumbled and he dragged his hips back slowly before snapping back into you again. He set a fast pace, hips pounding yours into the floor with every thrust. You let out a strangled cry of pleasure. Being filled by your Alpha was everything you wanted it to be and more. You felt so full and… complete with him in you like this. Every thrust from him earned a moan from your lips, which he greedily swallowed with passionate, heated kisses. Every second he was inside of you sent you closer to your release. He soothed the ache and cramps of your heat in a way only an Alpha could.

“A-alpha, I’m going to-” you moaned, eyes locked onto his.

“Come for me, Omega,” he ordered, kissing along your jaw and neck, lingering over the spot on your neck a mark would be. The sensations he was causing and the thought of him marking you sent you over the edge for the first time, screaming his name as that coil in your belly finally snapped. The pleasure of your orgasm licked its way through your body like flames and your walls spasmed around Bucky’s cock, earning deep moans from him. He fucked you relentlessly through it. Every time you started to come down another thrust would continue the pleasure. Eventually, though, you came down and there was only one thing you wanted then.

“Need your knot, Alpha,” you begged, raking your fingernails down his back. He moaned, hips momentarily stuttering before he pulled out. You didn’t have time to bemoan his absence. He sat up, leaning his back against one of the lab stations, and pulled you onto his lap.

He guided you above his cock with his hand, staring deeply into your eyes. His irises were barely visible rings around his pupils. “Make your Alpha feel good, Omega, and you’ll get what you want,” he purred, order clear under the seductive tone he used.

You nodded eagerly, sinking down onto his throbbing cock without a second thought. You writhed in pleasure at the feeling of him filling you up completely, but your idleness earned you a swift slap on the ass. “Move, baby. I want to fill you up,” he growled, hand grabbing your hip with a nearly bruising force.

You didn’t have to be told twice, raising your hips again and again, each time moving so far up he threatened to come out of you before you slammed them back down onto him, all the way to the hilt. His hand helped you move but once he realized you didn’t need the help it moved to your breasts, toying with and pinching your nipples.

You soon felt the tight coil forming in your lower stomach again. As if his body could sense it, he began to snap his hips up to meet you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, using the leverage to keep your pace even as your hips began to move sloppily as your second orgasm approached.

“Omega, baby, I’m getting close,” he warned. You already knew, though. You could feel his knot beginning to swell at the base of his cock. It was starting to catch inside of you with each thrust.

“Me too, Alpha,” you murmured, breathless. He leaned forward slightly, causing your clit to rub against his stomach as you moved and suddenly you were coming undone all over again.

Your walls fluttered around him, and he made up for your erratic pace by thrusting up into you. Your orgasm sent him over the edge and, a few thrusts later, his knot locked inside of you. If the feeling of his knot filling you up with his hot seed wasn’t enough to keep your orgasm going, him breaking the skin of your neck with his teeth as he bit into the mark spot definitely was. You let out a blissed-out sigh, completely content as he buried his face in your neck, deeply inhaling your scent.

“Omega mine,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you flush against his chest.

“My Alpha,” you agreed, nuzzling his neck, panting slightly from all the work the both of you had just done. He placed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, earning a contented hum from your lips.

You wrapped your arms around him and murmured, “That really just happened, didn’t it?”

“Havin’ seconds thoughts?” he asked teasingly, but you knew there was a real fear behind it.

“Never,” you said, looking up at his steel blue eyes, smile on your face. “I’ve been waiting years for this,” you whispered, brushing a lock of dark brown hair out of his face.

He beamed down at you and leaned down to give you a surprisingly chaste kiss considering his cock was locked inside of you at that moment. “Me too, Doll,” he said, stroking your cheek gently with the back of his knuckles. “Sorry that this isn’t exactly the ideal place to have done this,” he said mischievously, motioning to the lab around them.

You chuckled, resting your head on his shoulder. “I don’t mind so much, but a bed might be nice next time,” you joked, rubbing small circles into his lower back with your thumbs.

“Deal,” he agreed, smiling down at you.

You two sat like that for a few minutes, with him rubbing your back gently with his hand before he spoke up again. “Is there any chance that…?”

“Hmm?” you asked, looking up at him, content smile still on your face. It slipped slightly at the expression he was wearing. “What is it, Alpha?” You could tell something was bothering him, but you couldn’t tell what.

He seemed to think about his question for a minute before he blurted out “Are you on birth control?”

“Not the traditional kind, no. But I’m on heat-blocking pills right now,” you said sheepishly.

“That would explain why your scent is a little off,” he said, running his fingers through your hair.

“My scent is off? How so?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity. You didn’t get feedback from Alphas often, much less Alphas who’d smelled you before.

“Your scent is muted. I can tell you’re in heat and you still smell like you, but… I should have gone crazy from being in the same room as you, but I was able to keep it together,” he whispered, planting a tender kiss to your forehead.

You chuckled at that. “The second I smelled you it was like I hadn’t even taken the pills. At least, that’s what it felt like to me,” you said, leaning your forehead against his. “So thanks for that,” you teased.

He smiled cockily, but he quickly sobered, gaze a million miles away.

“What are you thinking, baby?” you asked, running a thumb gently over his stubble.

“What do I smell like to you?” he asked, gaze focusing back in on you.

Your heart beat faster in your chest. “You smell it too, don’t you?” you asked, barely daring to hope.

A wide smile broke out on his face. “I always thought-”

“-they were myths,” you finished, identical smile lighting up your face. “And to answer your question, when I first met you, it was a rainy forest and gunpowder. The rainy forest is the same, but now it’s accompanied by…” you paused, inhaling his scent, which sent a thrill down your spine. “I think it’s… plum?” you asked, curious smile sneaking its way onto your face.

His eyes darkened a little at the mention of the first time you met him, but it was gone again by the time you’d finished speaking. “You smell like Vanilla and Wildflowers. That hasn’t changed,” he murmured, placing a kiss on your temple.

You grinned like a fool. True Mates were… well, a fairy tale. Something Alpha and Omega parents told their kids as a bedtime story. Their people’s version of soul mates. It was always said you could pick out your true mate’s unique smell, while everyone else was a general jumbled, uninteresting mix of Alpha, Beta, or Omega.

You didn’t realize how tired you were, but Bucky must have sensed it, because he grabbed the jacket he’d brought with him (which had been unceremoniously knocked onto the floor during your escapade) and draped it over your shoulders. You fell asleep, head on his chest, to the steady sound of his breathing and unwavering beating of his heart.

You were awoken a short time later with gentle kisses to your neck and your name murmured like a prayer from his lips.

“C’mon, Doll, we should move,” he whispered, gently coaxing you from the realm of dreams.

You blinked blearily up at him, smile on your lips. “You only want to move because your ass fell asleep,” you joked, kissing him lazily on the lips.

He smiled into the kiss, his chuckle a deep rumble in his chest. “Well that is definitely part of it,” he conceded. “But it’s mostly because we’ll have an audience soon if we don’t,” he teased, motioning to a clock on the wall with his head.

6 am. Yup, people would be up and about soon if they weren’t already. It seemed like he’d carefully pulled out of you while you were asleep so you stood without having to worry, picking up your clothes and yanking them on (though you were considerably slowed by Bucky’s constantly wandering hands). You gave your underwear a sad look before throwing them into your purse (wouldn’t want to leave them and scar a poor lab tech for life).

When you were ready and both of you were modest, he took your hand in his, leading you out of the lab. You grabbed your bag on the way out, knowing you’d need it sooner rather than later.

He weaved his way through the halls with practiced ease. You tried to make a mental map but after the eighth turn you’d given up. A few minutes later he reached his room and opened the door with a fingerprint scan.

His room was sparsely furnished. It had the basics; a bathroom, bed, desk, chair, wardrobe, closet, dresser. But it didn’t have much in the way of personal effects. You spotted a few drawings pinned up on the wall above his desk, but a quick peek at them revealed the artist to be none other than Steve Rogers. A few pictures that looked to be a hundred years old pictured a younger, smiling Bucky.

“Omega,” he murmured. You tore your gaze away from the desk guiltily, but he only smiled at you.

“That’s my family. And drawings from Steve,” he said, obviously aware of the questions you didn’t want to ask.

You squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile, not knowing exactly what to say. Instead, you talked about something you knew.

“I, uh, have some plans for your new arm,” you said hesitantly. “But your input would be fantastic.”

He smiled at your shyness. “Alright, c’mere,” he said, pulling you onto his bed. You snuggled up against his side as you pulled the tablet computer out of your purse and turned it on.

“So, about the old design. I think that is can be improved upon by-” you began, pulling up the schematics. You paused when you saw him expression and felt your cheeks heat under the intensity of his gaze. “What?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“You’re absolutely stunning is all, Doll,” he said, throwing his arm around you to pull you closer to his side. You smiled happily and continued your explanation of your ideas.

By the time you had a model that both Bucky and yourself were happy with, two days had passed. During that time you’d had sex on multiple occasions, continuing to talk about arm schematics in lieu of pillow talk. Happy had come by after he’d been informed by FRIDAY where you’d gone and graciously brought you your luggage when you told him you’d be staying in Bucky’s room during your stay at the compound (though he had threatened to tell Tony about that particular arrangement).

Apparently Steve had gotten that specific memo, too, because he showed up later that day, pounding on the door.

“Bucky, what on earth are you thinking?” he demanded.

Bucky went rigid next to you. If he had hackles you knew they’d be raised. A second later you realized why.

Steve was an Alpha, too.

But that didn’t make any sense. Alphas almost never got along. To stay friends for as long as Steve and Bucky had was unheard of.

“Go away Steve,” Bucky growled, warning clear in his voice.

“Buck, I can smell her. I know you marked her. Just what in the hell-”

Steve’s tirade was interrupted by Bucky yanking the door open, looking like murder.

You shrunk back in the bed, hiding from the wrath of your Alpha, even if it wasn’t directed at you.

“You shouldn’t be here right now and you know it, Steve. She’s in heat and-”

“I’m aware, Bucky! That’s why I’m here! How could you just go and mark your-”

“True Mate,“ Bucky said forcefully.

Whatever Steve had been expecting, it wasn’t that. “What?” he asked dumbly, looking at Bucky in confusion. “Bucky, that’s just some fairy tale-”

“No, it’s not. She’s my true mate,” he said stubbornly.

Steve sighed and tried to glimpse you around Bucky’s form, but Bucky firmly pushed him back a foot or two. “Mine,” he growled.

Steve groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m coming back as soon as her heat is over and we’re talking about this,” Steve warned, throwing one last concerned glance at the room before he walked, mumbling something ironic about unreasonable Alphas.

Bucky shut the door a little too forcefully, making you jump at the sound. He gave you an apologetic look and quickly took his place back beside you, soothing your frayed nerves by touch alone.

“I had no idea Steve was an Alpha, too,” you mumbled.

“Really? How could you not smell him?” Bucky asked. “He’s lived here even longer than I have.”

“I only smelled you when I got here,” you said sheepishly. He merely smiled at that, brought your hand to his lips, and placed a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.

“The True Mate thing is gonna be a hard sell,” you told him, smile on your lips.

“Don’t care. He’ll come around eventually once he sees us together,” Bucky said, rolling onto his back. You admired once again how big he was.

“I have to start constructing the arm tomorrow. Will you be keeping me company in the lab?” you asked, unable to keep the eagerness out of your voice.

“Of course, Doll,” he said, pulling you down so you were laying next to him, head on his chest. “But first, sleep.”

“On that, Sargent Barnes, we can agree,” you said, giving him a gentle goodnight kiss before you tucked yourself up against him. His arm wrapped around your waist, insuring you wouldn’t move away from him while you slept.

You loved this side of Bucky.

Three days later, your heat was over and Bucky’s new arm was mostly built. He let Steve talk to you, which was nice. The tension between them was higher than it had likely ever been, but the mark on your neck seemed to ease Bucky’s nerves every time he saw it.

You talked about your lives while you worked on removing the remnants of the old tech from his shoulder. Some of it would have to stay, but a majority would just get in the way of the new one; it was outdated, anyway.

You wished people saw him for who he really was, not the weapon Hydra made him. Bucky Barnes had a heart of gold. Not to mention he was smart and funny to boot. According to various Avengers you met over your time there, in the few days since you’d arrived he’d been smiling more than they’d seen in the years they’d known him. You’d been embarrassed but proud over that fact (Bucky had been just plain embarrassed, turning a lovely shade of red each time someone made a comment about it… except when Sam said so; he had to dodge a punch and a wrench).

You loved this side of Bucky, too.

A week and a half after you’d first arrived, Bucky’s new arm was attached and fully functional. You still had tests to run, but it seemed to be working perfectly. Bucky was admiring it in the mirror. You saw him run his flesh fingers over where the red star had been on his old arm and you saw his eyes swim with unshed tears. You stood and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. You held him as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. You felt tears drip onto your hands but you held him like that until he finally turned and held you in his arms.

You loved this side of Bucky, too, even if it would probably take a while for him to believe it.

Two days later, you’d run all of the tests you possibly could. Bucky’s new arm worked perfectly and he’d seamlessly transitioned into the new prosthetic.

He made you sleep on his right side, though. He didn’t want to hurt you if the nightmares came.

You’d already gotten used to the occasional nightmares that plagued him. Every time they happened you woke him gently, calming him down with your pheromones and words. He’d clutch you tightly to his chest as though you were the only thing keeping him grounded and you’d talk to him, reassure him, until he calmed down.

He always apologized for these episodes but you told him not to worry. You liked being able to help him through them.

You loved this part of Bucky, too.

In fact, a few months after you’d first arrived at the compound, you told him as much. It was after a particularly bad episode that had left him frozen in the bed you shared.

“I love you, baby. You’re safe. Please come back to me,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. He seemed to resurface from his mind at your words, eyes filling with life again as his gaze met yours.

“What did you say?” he whispered, voice failing him.

“I love you, Bucky,” you said, smiling at him.

He scooped you up into his arms suddenly and practically vaulted off the bed. He leaned down and kissed you deeply as he walked towards the bathroom.

“I love you too, (Y/N),” he said, smitten.

You giggled, smiling happily. “Babe, why are you carrying me to the bathroom?” you asked curiously.

“(Y/N), I wanna try for pups,” he said seriously, staring down at you.

You were shocked. You’d brought it up before but he’d been evasive and reluctantly explained how he didn’t have the confidence in his ability to be able to care for children. He didn’t think he deserved something as good as a family and doubted he even had the ability, considering his past; being frozen and unfrozen and experimented on couldn’t have helped anything.

“I do, too, Bucky,” you said, throwing your arms around his neck. His deep chuckle rumbled through his chest and you relished the sound. “But, Buck, I’m not in heat…” you said, leaning back to raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“I know. But I’m sweaty from my nightmares and need a shower… and we need to practice. So, I’m multitasking,” he said, winking lasciviously at you.

You laughed at his antics, leaning up to kiss him as he turned the water on. “Lots of practice?” you asked salaciously.

“Lots,” he agreed, smirking.

Yes, you loved every side of your Alpha.

And he loved you, too.

#bucky x reader #a/b/o verse #a/b/o!au #bucky barnes x reader #alpha!bucky #omega!reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #bucky #bucky barnes #happy hogan #steve rogers

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saint-hildegard-of-bingen · 7 years

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This is a great read about the birth shown in episode 301. “It would’ve been so easy for this episode to include a birth that checked all the right thematic and structural boxes and then left it there.” Read on!

It makes sense that Outlander’s third-season premiere includes a birth scene. Outlander will now be at least partly Brianna’s story, and it’ll be about Jamie and Claire (and Frank) not as young, doe-eyed lovers, but as older, more experienced, more traumatized people. It will be about them as parents. Brianna’s birth is the foundation of that, and it’s nice to start from the beginning (even when the beginning is several centuries later than what comes next).

It’s not a simple, straightforward birth scene, though. Inevitably, the end of Claire’s pregnancy is tangled up with her feelings toward Frank and the strain on their marriage. Of course she chucks an ashtray at him, and of course she goes into labor later the same night. These are birth story gimmes; they’re a set-it-and-forget-it tension and release structure that accompanies many a fictional birth. But then the scene shifts — a doctor comes in to assess Claire’s progress. He asks Frank how far apart her contractions are. He asks Frank about her medical history. Then he wheels Claire off to a delivery room alone and anesthetizes her against her will. She wakes up clutching her empty belly and wondering where the hell her baby went.

It’s a birth scene we rarely see on TV (Betty Draper is the one other notable example), and it’s really upsetting to watch. Claire’s distress is resolved quickly, though. Frank comes in carrying baby Brianna, and the narrative shifts from “Claire is traumatized by this birth experience” to “Frank is reminded that this is not his biological daughter.” But the shape of that scene, its presence in this episode, and its role in Outlander’s bigger aims are not so easy to set aside. They’re fundamental to the best parts of the series.

When Outlander’s first season premiered, it did so to a fanfare of criticism lauding its feminist perspective, particularly when measured against the markedly male gaze of Game of Thrones. That argument is a little easier to make about the first several episodes of the first season, where Claire’s go-get-’em response to finding herself transported to the 18th century is coupled with a fabulously frank portrayal of her sexual desire. That same argument is a little tougher to make by the end of the first season, which echoes the book series in depicting multiple sexual assaults ranging from attempted rape to horrific sadomachistic sexual torture.

As the series continued through its second season, its female gaze and its feminism have drifted a little farther from view. Claire gets caught in a weird middle place where she’s trying to change a huge, paradigm-shifting historical event while also somehow keeping her own family history exactly the same, and it leads to illogical storytelling and unfortunate character-development issues. It’s a show with a lot going on, always. When that “a lot” moves away from Claire and Jamie as people and gets mired in them as time-traveling secret agents, caught up with court intrigue and the movement of armies, Outlander loses its grip a little.

But when the show is at its best, it takes the Doctor Who fanfiction premiseand the soulmate story and the Scottish history lesson and uses them as opportunities to tell stories about women’s experiences. They’re often small, almost little asides. Claire’s having a hard time integrating into this Scottish clan, and oh, by the way, women use their own urine to set the dye on fabric. Jamie’s sister Jenny is dashing through the forest on a horse to try to save him from Jack Randall and, in a brief pause, has to express her breast milk into a cup because she just had a baby and she’s painfully engorged. (She and Claire have a little explanatory chat about it, just in case this is the first TV scene you’ve ever encountered that deals with the pain of an overfull lactating breast.) And every one of Claire’s remarkable costumes works this way. She’s running across moors and elbow-deep in a wounded soldier’s viscera, and it’s incredibly cold in draughty Scottish castles, so women layer the standard daily bodice with knitwear.

The strongest moments of Outlander are the ones that tie the fantasy structure together with the details of women’s experience. There’s peril in the world of Outlander — and not just because it’s time travel and Claire might change history for the worse, or die of a preventable illness, or find herself on trial as a witch after insisting on messing with a deep local superstition. (This was a pretty foolish mistake on her part.) There’s peril because there’s peril in just being a woman in the 18th century, and a huge part of that is obstetric peril. Claire suffers a late-term miscarriage that nearly kills her. Jenny has a difficult birth in the first season; difficult or no, all births are likely to be life threatening in the eighteenth century.

This is why the birth scene in the premiere is such an important part of the episode, even though Claire’s trauma doesn’t last long. The particular experiences of women — which are very often sex- and pregnancy-related, because this was the reality of life before birth control — are treated as notable, worthwhile material. It’s not even seen as worthwhile material for Call the Midwife, a women’s interest show (that I love) designed for the express purpose of telling horror stories about historical birth, either. That’s why it’s so unusual to see things like difficult births and women’s clothing and sex while pregnant as compelling details and valuable plot grist on a show that’s also about huge battles, and court intrigue, and fantasy.

It would’ve been so easy for this episode to include a birth that checked all the right thematic and structural boxes and then left it there. Claire’s water could’ve broken, she might’ve told Frank she was glad the ashtray didn’t hit him, and the next thing we would have seen would have been her holding the baby. And even as it is, the birth is a small part of an episode that’s also about war trauma, and grief, and marriage and the possibilities of forgiveness — as with the other similar moments, it’s almost an aside. But for Outlander, that aside is important. The high likelihood is that 1940s Claire would’ve had a twilight-sleep birth matters for her character, and it matters for our understanding of her in the story. It’s worth depiction. It’s as much a part of that fictional world as kilts and stone circles and violence and what women wear.

From the longer view of how season two ended and what Outlander’s third season might become, there’s good reason for Brianna’s birth to be one of the primary stories in this first episode. It’s good storytelling. It’s also exactly the kind of thing Outlander does that can make the series feel so different from other fantasy stories of freewheeling time-hopping swashbuckling grandiosity. Outlander is at its best when it keeps a persistent eye on the detailed, tangible, lived experience of the past. And that’s most especially true when that lived experience is female.

This is a different argument from one that posits Outlander is feminist — that idea is fascinating, but it puts a value on the series as espousing and performing a particular political position. And once that happens, the show quickly becomes subject to a kind of pass/fail test. (Is it, or isn’t it? Does this scene break the feminism? How about this one? Why so much rape? Does it ruin the show?) In an episode otherwise devoted to Jamie’s memories of battle, and Frank’s desire to move on from their past, Outlander also gives us Claire patronized at a faculty party, struggling to light a stove, and robbed of her bodily autonomy as an ordinary matter of course while giving birth to her daughter. Whether or not it is feminist, Outlander is unusually, stubbornly female, in a genre that so often is not. The best hope for season three will be that the show finally, fully embraces it.

#outlander #outlander season three #tv #caitriona balfe #close reads #Outlander Spoilers Outlander Episode 301 spoliers

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46ten · 7 years

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Male and Female, 16th to 19th century

I'm going to try to place AH and his thoughts on marriage in context of the scholarly work on gender, sex, and the dynamic between men and women and gender in this period. One of the problems I have with lots of biographies of AH is that the authors read a 19th century attitude towards marriage, sexuality, and gender behavior back into AH's 18th century, aristocratic world. (And no one got the short end of the stick in this more than Elizabeth Hamilton, who was reduced to a kind and long-suffering wife confined to hearth and home. I take that back - Martha Washington was reduced to a plump granny with a tea cozy on her head.)

I'm going to briefly summarize very general material in gender studies below, and in future posts I’ll explore this as it relates to AH, specifically:

The perspective presented in literature that we know he was familiar with;

His attitudes towards women (how he describes his wife, his wife's sisters, Peggy Arnold, Maria Reynolds, in particular);

How he viewed and performed masculinity in the context of his society;

Other topics TBD

Two of the most widely read - and controversial - scholars on the history of sex, Michel Foucault (The History of Sexuality, 1976-1984) and Thomas W. Laqueur (Making Sex: Bodies and Gender from Greeks to Freud, 1980), share the view that our current conventions of male/female, masculine/feminine are relatively novel constructions that were invented in the 18th-19th centuries. [I'm not going to get into Foucault other than this mention because his motivating concerns were really beyond those of sex and sexuality.]

Laqueur argues for the transformation of the understanding of sex from a one-sex model to a two-sex model in the 18th century. In the one-sex model, male and female only differ by degrees, not kind. Laqueur draws on classical texts and the use of Galen's work, whose medical texts again rose to prominence in the Renaissance and may have influenced midwifery, for his argument that female genitalia and function were thought to be homologous to male genitalia in both form and function, but inverted. For both, there is one metaphysical form - one sex. Males, with their external genitalia because of their "heat", are nearer to this ideal form. Women are "cold," which explains why their genitalia are inside their bodies. But both women and men can carry "hot" and "cold," making them more masculine or feminine. During this era, female sexual pleasure also rises to prominence, as it is believed that women must have orgasms in order for procreation to occur - the belief in the female "seed" ejaculated during orgasm, to match the male seed that is ejaculated. (There's also lots of discussion about the identification and understanding of the clitoris as the homolog of the male penis.) In summary, Laqueur holds that in the 15th through 17th century, the male and female sex were understood on the same vertical axis, but they were of same form - one sex.

Please note - in no way are women held to be equal to men in the one-sex model. They are acknowledged to be subordinate - lower on the axis - and therefore corporal punishment of wives by husbands, denial of rights, etc., are all permissible. One can hold to a one-sex or two-sex understanding, and the resulting socially approved interactions between men and women may not look much different to an observer. Other scholars have studied and developed theories on gender performance in this time period as separate from anatomical form - how fluid and flexible the notions of masculine/feminine could be, with no corresponding concern about homosexuality. For a man to "act like a woman" means that he yields the dominant position and takes on a subordinate one.

[Laqueur argues for a one-sex model all the way from antiquity into the 18th century. Many scholars have criticized this, and since I believe that they are correct in their criticisms - specifically, the Middle Ages had much greater diversity of thought on the matter than Laqueur simplifies it to - I am limiting my discussion to the Renaissance era onward, when many scholars do agree that one can see the prevalence of a one-sex model. Laqueur has also been criticized for largely drawing his material from isolated medical texts and parts of philosophical thought. Other scholars have argued that the two-sex model always existed alongside the one-sex model, and either could be employed. See Helen King, The One-Sex Body on Trial, 2013. I'm inclined to agree that Laqueur’s model is overly simplistic, though I would agree with him and Foucault that there's something uniquely afoot in the 18th-19th century.]

I think one can see a reflection of the popularity and demise of this one-sex construction in action in the arts. Many scholars have focused on examining the popularity of these sex models in literature; I'll briefly focus on two illustrative examples in the performing arts: 1) the castrato in Italian opera; 2) the male dansuer in ballet.

1) The 1650s-1750s are the height of the popularity of the castrati, male singers who were castrated as youths so that their vocal cords never lengthened. Having enormous vocal range - higher than sopranos in many cases - and flexibility, and having greater lung capacity than female singers, they were hugely popular in Italian operas throughout most of Europe (France being the notable exception). The expanse of opera seria gave the castrati a new avenue from which to display their talents. Castrati became so popular, they displaced not only women, but sometimes also uncastrated men on stage. They were given the "hero" male roles (people into Baroque opera know how frequently these roles are now usually played by female sopranos dressed in men's clothing). What we may think of as their androgyny (some of the other consequences of youthful castration are smaller genitalia, longer limbs, and a round, tall build) and ambiguous sexuality was an enormous part of their appeal. As socioeconomic conditions in Italy changed - fewer disadvantaged families with numerous sons willing to sacrifice one to castration in hopes of producing an opera superstar - the supply of castrati may have ended well before demand for them decreased. (Some scholars have argued that is was the decline of the one-sex model that ushered in the end of the age of the castrati, but I don't believe that, and I know a lot about the castrato era and its popularity.)

2) Although the western classical dance tradition began in Italy in the 16th century, it became codified - under aesthetic ideals still applied - in France in the 17th and 18th centuries. In this era, the male danseur held the place of prominence in ballet, with its strict rules about presentation of the body, hands, and face, deportment, and carriage. That this was seen as a manly endeavor was commonly accepted (except in England!); for a man to feature those qualities that we usually associate as feminine - delicacy, grace, etc., was a more perfect comment on his manhood; he is the idealized one-sex metaphysical form. In the 19th century, we see the demise of the role of the danseur, and questions about the effeminacy of male performers - and their sexuality - with a corresponding emphasis on the female in pointe shoe, and femininity of dance.

So what happened? States Laqueur: "sometime in the eighteenth century, sex as we know it was invented. The reproductive organs went from being paradigmatic sites for displaying hierarchy, resonant throughout the cosmos, to being the foundation of [an] incommensurable difference [between men and women]." We arrive at the dominance of the two-sex model. Male and female were no longer on the same axis, with the difference only in degrees, but were now poles apart - true opposites. Male and female genitalia are seen as distinctly different in form and function. Laqueur argues that this shift in thinking occurred without a change in scientific understanding, which would come some decades later.

So why the shift, if "science" isn't the cause?

One of the pressures is certainly the shift in philosophical thought from the Enlightenment, with the setting of "nature" and “natural rights” rising to new prominence. But if “rights” are "natural" and "inalienable", why do they seem unequally applied to women, or enslaved persons, and/or natives? Well, there must be inherent differences between male and female, black and brown bodies. Some scholars argue that the institution of slavery itself precipitated this crisis - the subjugation of black bodies requires a defense with biological and moral underpinnings that brings new focus to the difference between male and female.

The "pursuit of happiness" ideal is also seen as one of the natural aims of man [and woman, some Locke scholars would say - they also make the argument that Locke was a believer in the one-sex model.] This helps drive companionate marriage, which I've mentioned previously and Hamilton by every measure believed strongly in. Companionate marriages are based on love and mutual attraction; they represent a break away from the old social order of lineage and family/economic ties as the drivers of marriage. For awhile, female sexual satisfaction is still of high importance. In a companionate marriage, the partners' feelings for each other dominate, creating an intimate bond that is exclusively between spouses.

When you combine this with the rise of the middle-class, pushed along by industrialization, companionate marriage becomes one of the drivers of what we recognize in the 19th century as the nuclear family: a solid unit consisting of husband and wife with their children. With the growth of opportunities [for whites] to participate and enter in the middle class and form nuclear families, gender distinctions become even more prominent. Male and female become distinct entities with different but complementary roles to play in society. Motherhood becomes the natural elevated destiny of all women. Women are placed as protectors of virtue, while men are the protectors of honor and character. Now, a man "acting like a woman" is not just an act of subordination or cowardice, but a violation of the natural order. Gender performance, which had been quite-flexible in previous centuries, starts to become very rigid.

I'll let Allen and Feluga take it over, because they state it better than I will**:

The middle-class culture that came about in Britain and America as a result of urbanization, industrialization, and strong economic growth (which is to say, that could not have happened without the enlightenment) imagined itself as existing in two complementary but separate spheres: the public and the private. These spheres were roughly commensurate with the binary gender distinctions discussed above. The public sphere belonged to men: it was the sphere of business and money-making, of politics and empire building, of industry and struggle. The private sphere, on the other hand, was considered to be a feminine preserve: it was the space of the home and the hearth, of sympathy and nurture, of simple piety and childrearing. Men obviously crossed into the private sphere when they left their business for their homes where they were to be "softened" by the gentle ministrations of their dear home angels but women had limited access to the public sphere.

This double system underwrote a capitalist economic system by creating the home as a sphere of consumption rather than production and by creating the middle-class wife as a leisured consumer and it underwrote the middle-class ideal of a private domestic sphere that was untouched by the ravages of commerce. (You will immediately see the paradox in this.)

We can see how Hamilton's world (by world, I mean the sociocultural milieu he occupied) is marked by both the one-sex and two-sex models. There is an emphasis on preoccupations with clothing, grooming, dancing, witty conversation, art, elegance, even wine glasses - all that would become to be marked as "feminine" by the Anglo-American middle-class* in a couple of generations after him. Compare portraits of AH with the well-known portrait of his son, William S. Hamilton, to see how self-presentation had changed in just one generation. Scholars have argued that the style of dress in this period - tight breeches and stockings, cut of clothing that was used to highlight the male anatomical form, became popular as a way of asserting a masculine identity so that gender performance could remain varied.

Alexander Hamilton also took an active role in childcare, consulted with Elizabeth about child-rearing decisions, actively engaged in family planning, and had a love for home - all qualities that would read as “feminine” in just a couple of generations.

I’ll abruptly stop here because this is long enough! I welcome any comments, questions, criticisms. This is more interpretation-heavy, and relies on sometimes controversial scholarship, than the posts I usually make.

*The Anglo-American middle-class as a separate identity to the upperclass; the former being the base of the Jacksonian Era of the Common Man, who was the Mountain Man, who became the Western Man, who is still exported as the Anglo-American ideal of manhood and masculinity - taciturn, loose-limbed but with swagger; the man who can conquer the wilderness.

**https://www.cla.purdue.edu/english/theory/genderandsex/modules/introduction.html

See also: http://www.isis.aust.com/stephan/writings/sexuality/euro.htm

@fiftysevenacademics discussion of facial etiquette and sensibility in the 18th century

#Alexander Hamilton #Elizabeth Hamilton #marriage #gender studies #Laqueur #Foucault

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thedefinitionofbts · 7 years

Text

Our First and Last (Ch. 7)

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 |

Ch. 11| Ch. 12 (Final)

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (MAIN) | Park Jimin x Kim Taehyung | Jung Hoseok x Min Yoongi | Kim Namjoon x Kim Seokjin

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Soulmate Au, Scifi

Words: 3.3K

“Hobi, thank you so much for driving me, I am so nervous right now,” You wipe your clammy hands on your thighs as you sit in the passenger’s seat of Hoseok’s car. You were so glad he offered to drive you to Dr. Jeon’s lab because you would be running late otherwise, and being late on the first day would be a horrible way to start off and not to mention leave the most undesirable lasting impression.

“Hey, no prob, I wanted to meet this guy anyways” Hoseok says, head still turn towards the road in front. He was wearing his sunglasses, so you could only see the upward curve of his lips as he grins.

Traffic wasn’t too bad since most people were already at work around 10 in the morning.

When the two of you arrive, you see that it was a huge hospital building that looked very new and modern, with parts of the walls made of glass. The windows reflected the bright sunlight, and there were potted flowers and other shrubs near the main entrance. A round fountain with an abstract design was flowing with shallow water, and people were walking in and out of the automatic revolving door. It definitely seemed like a busy place.

“Whaa” Hoseok looks around in awe as the two of you walk in.

“His lab is on the 7th floor,” You say as you and Hoseok walk towards the elevator.

“Hey, do you think I can apply for an internship at this hospital? I think it’ll look good on my Med school application.” Hoseok says as the two of you walk down the hall. Hoseok was clearly amazed by the layout of the building, and you could tell he really liked it by gleam in his eyes and the excitement in his voice.

“Yeah, go for it! Then we can maybe even see each other sometimes!” You exclaim, forgetting about your nerves for a couple of seconds, but that doesn’t last long as the two of you close in on the lab entrance.

They were a pair of double doors, reminiscent of most biological labs, and on the wall to the side was a plaquer that had the words:

Dr. Jeon Jungkook MD-PhD Cognitive Neuroscience

You take a deep breath, trying to quell your pounding heart. Hoseok puts a hand on your shoulder, knowing how nervous you must be feeling.

When you push open the doors, you are immediately greeted with the smell of sterilization fluids combined with a faint whiff of various chemicals. The light in the lab room is white, and the room is very spacious, with rows and rows of bottles, petri dishes, flasks, and boxes of newly ordered supplies. There were a couple of scientists dressed in their lab coats, pipetting liquids into test tubes, others working under the hold for either maintaining cell cultures or working with hazardous chemicals, and a few sitting at desks, hard at work on their computers. There were the loud noises coming from large freezers in the back, and you even notice a whole area dedicated to different types of microscopes.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Dr. Jeon Jungkook” You say to one of the researchers closest to the door.

“New student?” She asks, removing her gloves and shaking your hand as you nod. “He’s in his office, come” She guides you and Hoseok past the neuroscience lab where it was connected to another lab, in which you recognize as a genetics lab from the obvious PCR machines and the gel electrophoresis equipment set up. You finally reach an area where there is carpeting on the floor and some office rooms.

“Dr. Jeon, your new student has arrived” She announces after she knocks on the already opened door to his office.

You notice that the office room is very tidy; especially for a researcher since most of the time they don’t bother to keep their workspace neat. But then you remember that Dr. Jeon is also a neurosurgeon, which requires him to be very meticulous and precise. There’s a window with its blinds open to the left of Dr. Jeon’s desk, revealing the baby blue sky with a few white and fluffy nimbus clouds here and there, and a plant, which looks to be a juxtaposition of succulents that form a mini forest, sitting on the windowsill in a glass fishbowl-like pot.

Your eyes glaze over the stacks of papers next to the printer, and the shelves of medical textbooks and science magazines on the wall opposite to the window. After slowly soaking in the details of his office, you finally let your eyes land on THE Dr. Jeon Jungkook, the guy that Hoseok and you have basically fangirled and fanboyed over for the past few weeks.

His shoulders are evidently broad, forming a 90-degree curve where his white lab coat continues to drape down. His hair is dark brown, verging on black, and neatly combed, bangs half parted to the side.

Dr. Jeon slowly turns around in his seat, head still facing the computer, eyes glued to the screen for an extra few seconds before they land on you.

And at that precise moment, it was like time lingered for an extra millisecond, as if something powerful had momentarily disrupted it’s normal flow, because you forgot to inhale, and your lungs were confused by the sudden drop in oxygen levels as your heart skipped half a beat. It was like nothing you had ever experienced before, and you barely hear Hoseok’s “wow” come out as a whisper, as the both of you watch Dr. Jeon get up from his seat and walk over to greet you.

His enchanting dark eyes were mesmerizing even behind his thin-rimmed glasses, and the size and shape of all of his facial features, including his full lips, thick eyebrows, and sculpted nose was the perfect ratio to the size and shape of his overall face, everything perfectly aligned, but with a flaw here and there, as if acting as a reminder that he’s still human.

“Y/N? Is it?” Jungkook says as he approaches you and Hoseok, reaching a hand out to offer a handshake.

He’s towering over the two of you now, long lean torso straight as a pole despite years of being crouched at a desk either studying or writing up research papers. You realize that if you look straight, your line of sight only reaches his chin, and although Hoseok is taller than you, he’s still a good few inches shorter than the neurosurgeon.

“Oh, uh yes. It’s very nice to meet you Dr. Jeon” You say, as professionally composed as you can manage. You reach out your own hand to shake his. Upon contact you’re immediately reminded of how cold and clammy your hand is because of the striking contrast to Jungkook’s warm and dry hands.

“And this is…?” Dr. Jeon turns and looks at Hoseok, who is standing next to you.

“I’m Jung Hoseok. Very impressed by the research you do, sir” Hoseok says, grabbing Dr. Jeon’s single hand with both of his own hands and shaking like he’s meeting some sort of celebrity.

Hoseok has this wide grin on his face, and Jungkook returns it with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, like he was just doing it to be polite.

Jungkook dismisses the female scientist and proceeds to show you around the lab. Hoseok is just quietly following behind, not wanting to be a bother but also curious to see the research going on.

“We share some of our equipment with Dr. Ryu’s genetics lab and vice versa,” Jungkook says as he leads you past the lab you previously walked through to get to his office.

“Here is where we maintain cell cultures for experimentation, and it’s also where we grow our own Purkinje cells from neuronal stem cells. Be extra careful when you’re dealing with these because environmental factors play a large role in the formation of their dendritic arbors.” Jungkook says as he continues taking you on a tour of the lab.

He ends up showing you almost everything, ranging from where they store fluorescent dyes to how to operate the confocal microscope with an argon laser. You listen intently trying to absorb all the information Jungkook is throwing at you, and mentally scold yourself for not bringing a notebook to write all of this down.

He finally ends the tour by bringing you to your work area, which is relatively empty compared to the other areas of the lab, except for a set of pipettes and a box of 1.7mL test tubes.

“I’ll go over the project with you tomorrow” Jungkook says, as he notices you’ve gone silent due to the sheer volume of information you have just been given.

“Ok, thank you Dr. Jeon” You say, the sound of your own voice seeming out of place after the long tour of only Jungkook talking and you just nodding your head while following him.

He nods and walks back to his office, leaving you standing there alone and wondering where in the world Hoseok has ran off to.

Your eyes flutter open and you look around the room in a daze. You hated taking naps. Naps always made you wake up, still feeling tired and twice as disoriented. Taking naps was never a thing you did on a regular basis, but ever since your treatment with Dr. Kim, they had become routine during your session, they were unavoidable.

“How long was I out?” You ask, rubbing your head and looking at Taehyung.

“Oh, I’d say about 20 minutes” Taehyung says, as he looks up form his notebook and sighing.

“So did anything happen while I was knocked out?”

“You mumbled a few indecipherable things, but other than that everything was quite normal. How do you feel?” Taehyung asks.

“More calm”

“Good. Did you remember anything?”

You shift on the couch, sitting up and trying to organize your thoughts.

“I think someone I met recently showed up in my dream this time.” You say, as you vaguely recall a pair of chocolate brown doe eyes behind thin-rimmed glasses. “But then again, he feels like the same person who’s always been there in my dreams.”

“You mean, you’ve been dreaming of someone, and you didn’t know who they were until you met them in real life?” Taehyung asks.

You slowly nod, wondering how that’s even possible or maybe you’re just getting mixed up. Taehyung nods his head and purses his lips.

“You’re not going to tell me I have some clairvoyant ability are you?” You ask, looking at Taehyung with a doubtful expression.

Surprisingly Taehyung just laughs and shakes his head.

“Can’t come to that conclusion quite yet” He jokes. “But I’m curious, who is this person you’ve suddenly met in real life?”

“Um, he’s a professor I’m doing research under” You reply, feeling your cheeks flush. You didn’t know what had gotten into you lately, but Dr. Jeon has never left your mind since the first day you met him.

“I see” Taehyung nods.

“You don’t find any of it strange?” You ask, wondering why he’s so nonchalant, like it’s completely normal to dream about someone long before you ever met them.

“Isn’t it obvious that you might just be developing a crush on this guy?” Taehyung says, causing your mouth to drop and your eyes widen.

“But-what..how?” You try to form a coherent sentence, but fail as the embarrassment settles in as quickly as the heat that was burning on your cheeks now.

“I don’t want to perpetuate the stereotype that psychologists can read minds, but…come on, I’m a psychologist,” Taehyung says with a grin, looking at your mortified expression.

“He’s my professor and I met him yesterday!” You emphasize, voice almost coming out as a shriek.

“It’s likely that this person is not one person but a mix of two or more people. It’s not uncommon for someone in your dreams to actual be a combination of more than one person you know in real life. I think your affection for this guy might’ve just given him a ticket to merge with whatever person or people you’ve consistently dreamt of for most of your life” Taehyung explains.

You look down at your lap as you register the words coming out of the psychologist’s mouth. It makes perfect sense, but somewhere deep down; you know that whomever you’ve dreamed of all these years is way too distinct to be a mix of people you’ve known in the past.

“Tae, I’m worried about Dr. Jeon” Jimin says as they’re grocery shopping on a Saturday morning.

Taehyung, who was pushing the empty shopping cart stops in his tracks, narrows his eyes, and looks at Jimin.

“From a patient-psychologist standpoint!” Jimin quickly defends, knowing that Taehyung’s mind was probably going places it shouldn’t.

“Continue” The latter says as he begins walking again.

“It’s like he’s changed into a different person or he’s been possessed or something.” Jimin shakes his head and stares at tiled flooring of the supermarket. “He doesn’t look at me like I’m a joke, and he doesn’t say hurtful things anymore. In fact, he’s barely showing any emotion at all. Do you think it’s a sign that his depression is getting worse?”

“It’s a possibility. Or maybe some significant change occurred in his life.”

“That’s what I was thinking! But I can’t figure out what it is, and you know how difficult it is for me to squeeze anything out of that guy.” Jimin sighs as he grabs an 8-pack of peach yogurt from the dairy section and drops it into the shopping cart.

“Well there’s really nothing you can do except keep trying” Taehyung says as he and Jimin walk towards the snack aisle.

“Hey, look! It’s Yoongi!” Jimin exclaims as he spots the familiar figure standing in front of the shelf of chips and dip.

Yoongi turns around, startled by the sudden sound of his name. He spots the pink haired Jimin in a heartbeat and the brown-haired male standing next to him, which he assumes is the other psychologist from the clinic.

“Morning Dr. Park. And, umm… Dr. Kim?” Yoongi greets.

Taehyung nods in greeting as Jimin hops over to talk to Yoongi.

“Shopping for Dr. Jeon?” Jimin asks, eyeing the cartload of processed foods.

“Like always” Yoongi sighs.

There was a long pause as the two of them continue to stare at the pile of food, before Yoongi and Jimin both speak at the same time.

“How are the sessions coming along?” “Has anything big happened in Dr. Jeon’s life?”

“Oh sorry, you were saying?” Yoongi says, awkwardly putting his hands in the large front pocket of his baggy hoodie.

“It’s just that Dr. Jeon seems detached lately, and I was wondering if you know about anything that’s going on.” Jimin explains.

“Oh, umm, everything seems pretty normal from what I can tell.” Yoongi says, trying to think about all the events that happened recently. He’s still eating normally, sleeping as regularly as his schedule allows him, and balancing surgeries with experiments as perfectly as he always has. There’s really nothing that comes to Yoongi’s mind except one.

“Not a single thing has changed?” Jimin asks, disappointed that not even Yoongi, the closest person to Jungkook that he knows, can even help him.

“Well, he took in a new graduate student recently” Yoongi finally says, remembering the sleepless hours he spent filtering through hundreds of applications.

“A new student?”

“Since I assume you’ve already read up on my latest research on visual perception, I’m not going to bother reiterating the details.”

You were sitting in a chair across from Jungkook in his office as he explains the project you’ll be working on. He seemed so focused on explaining the experimental set up that it felt like he was giving a lecture to hundreds of students, which in turn made you feel sort of invisible sitting there. He wasn’t even looking at you as he talked, only pausing to give you the occasional glance to see if you were registering everything. The guy even made a PowerPoint for crying out loud, and he was so skilled at orating that it sounded like he had memorized the whole spiel.

“So the first step is to begin growing retinal ganglion cells derived from human embryonic stem cells.” Jungkook finishes as the last slide of his PowerPoint switches to a black screen.

“So if I’m not mistaken, the goal of this project is to determine the selectivity mechanisms in the occipital lobe?” You tentatively ask, hoping he won’t think you’re dumb for not fully understanding the first time around.

“More specifically, we’re looking to see how inputs in the axons of retinal cells are modified through each layer of the visual cortex and ultimately aid in neuronal selectivity. Basically the difference between what is there and what you actually see.” Jungkook explains.

You look at Jungkook with a lost expression, and although you try to hide it, he notices and sighs as he turns his chair and faces you for the first time. You try to keep eye contact to show that you’re completely focused, but fail as his unnerving stare causes you to look away. Maybe it was a bad idea to ask…

That tense, nervous feeling is back at it again as you swallow the saliva building up in your mouth and bite the inside of your cheek. You feel Jungkook’s gaze pointed at you, but you’re too afraid to look at his face to see his expression, so you keep your eyes down towards the floor. Hoping that he’ll think you were deep in thought or something.

“If I were to throw a ball at your head right now, you would dodge, right?” Jungkook asks, voice coming out not nearly as annoyed as you thought it would.

“Umm….yes…” You answer, wondering why he would suddenly asked such a random question. His tone had made you less nervous, but the question itself left you in a confused state.

“But even if you were slow by as little as a nanosecond, it would hit you square in the face.” Jungkook continues, and by now you’re wondering if this is his way to indirectly refer to your incompetency.

You slowly lift your eyes to look at Jungkook, preparing to apologize for not being up to speed with the experiment and all, but you notice that he’s focused his attention to the scene outside the window. You breathe a sigh of relief, glad that he’s not scrutinizing you anymore, but still feeling apologetically inept.

“But it takes times for inputs to the photoreceptors in your eyes to travel through the optic nerve and to your brain, where you ultimately see the ball flying towards you.” Jungkook pauses, waiting to see if you’re catching on.

You listen, still not quite sure where this is all going. Jungkook’s lips curve up slightly as he continues to explain.

“So how do our brains make up for that time?” Another pause, but this time so short that it’s barely noticeable. “It makes educated guesses. Predictions about the world we see because if it didn’t, everything you see would be the world nanoseconds in the past.”

As that last sentence escapes his mouth, the central idea Jungkook was trying to convey finally pops into your head.

“Which means that our brains have to construct a reality before we are able to see it.” You finish, finally piecing together everything Jungkook was explaining.

You see his mouth curve into a smile, and a faint glint in his eyes as he nods.

...

#bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts soulmate au #kim taehyung #park jimin #vmin fanfic #jung hoseok #min yoongi #suga #jhope #sope #yoonseok #angst and fluff #scifi

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inkognito97 · 7 years

Text

Kin II

Part 1

Summary:“Who are you?” whispered Obi-Wan.

“Don’t you recognize me?” answered the Force.

A moment of silence passed. Then, “Father?”

“Hello, my son.”

A giant explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet and for a moment there was just dust and darkness. When the dust settled, the tall Jedi Master with the long brown hair that was covered in sand and small debris, saw the destruction the explosion had caused.

Half the battlefield was destroyed, half of his troops, let alone those of his Padawan and Grandpadawan, were wiped out, along huge numbers of the enemies’ droids. The droids didn’t matter though, they could easily and quickly be replaced, but the clones were actual living beings. Their loss lay heavy in the Force and Qui-Gon would grieve for them later, for now he turned his focus to the matter at hand.

A few meters away, were Obi-Wan and Anakin lying on the ground. It seemed as if they had barely escaped the radius of the Separatists’ attack. The Master allowed himself to sigh in relief and to thank the Force for that. But the danger was still not over. With horror watched midnight blue eyes helplessly, how his former Padawan and Anakin were struggling to their feet, while one of the heavy cannons were directed at them. Obi-Wan was able to push his comrade aside, throwing him several meters in Qui-Gon’s direction, he himself was not as lucky however. The ginger haired Jedi was thrown even further away from his troops and comrades and it was even more impossible for Qui-Gon to aid the injured Master, who was not even able to completely stand up, while Anakin was helped on his feet by Captain Rex and slowly brought to safety despite his protest.

Qui-Gon was about to make a mad dash forward, not caring for his own life, but a heavy and warm hand on his shoulder stopped him. Startled, did the Jedi Master turn around, only to find himself gazing into compassionate blue-green eyes. He knew those eyes. Only one person in the whole galaxy possessed them and that person was about to be killed. Only one person had such eyes, one person and the Force itself. Qui-Gon had soon learned that the Force had chosen this appearance, because it was how Obi-Wan had always pictured his father to look, at least when Obi-Wan had still been an Initiate and young Padawan. The Force’s accent was also part of this. Young and innocent Initiate Kenobi had one day decided that he had gotten his accent from his father and the Force had complied and had made those dreams and wishes, a reality.

“Do not fear child,” the Force’s voice was soothing and the warmness that spread through the Jedi Master, was calming. “All will be well.”

And Qui-Gon believed him. He had not much of a choice actually, but that didn’t matter now. He would have believed him anyway.

Slowly, almost bored, did the Force step forward. He caught the attention of a few clones, who were cluelessly looking between him and the Jedi Master who was about to be killed. They did not understand who they were seeing, they had not been taught the way Qui-Gon had been. And in all honesty, the long haired Jedi somehow doubted that Anakin would recognize the Force at what it was, either.

A shift was palpable in the very air around them. Qui-Gon did not need to look to know that the ginger male’s eyes had turned a sithly yellow and that he was calling upon the dark side, or rather upon HIS dark side.

“We need a name for him,” Qui-Gon whispered to himself, but the raised eyebrow and amused grin he received, told him that he had been heard by the Force in human form.

“Then name me,” he only replied.

The form the Force had chosen trembled for a moment. It was as if looking at a bad holo connection. Then, the male had completely vanished, without a trace, only to reappear quite the distance away again, standing over the injured form of his son. Qui-Gon blinked and he was not the only one. Clones and droids alike were surprised by the sudden appearance of what could only be described as Obi-Wan’s twin. General Grievous, who was leading the attack hesitated, his arm was still raised, ready to give the command to attack. Anakin and Ahsoka exchanged confused and surprised glances, before they turned to Qui-Gon.

“Master, do you,” but the blonde did not say more. He knew the look on his Grandmaster’s face all too well. Qui-Gon Jinn knew EXACTLY what was going on.

“Master?” the young Togruta chirped in.

The older male crossed his arms over his chest and he actually smiled. It unnerved the Master-Padawan-team greatly. “You are about to witness a unique spectacle, young one. Pay close attention.”

“I don’t understand,” admitted the female.

“Who is this?” asked Anakin.

“Patience is a virtue,” was all Qui-Gon said, before returning his focus elsewhere.

A voice in the back of his head added, “A virtue that my son’s former Padawan certainly lacks. But no need to be surprised, it is in his nature.”

Grievous had finally gotten his bearing back together. Unfazed by the sudden appearance of a Kenobi look-alike, did he give the signal and he yelled, “Kill them!”

Countless of blasters were shot simultaneously and the heavy canon fired as well. The Force felt fear and confusion emitting from his son and though he did not want his son to feel this way, he had to take care of something else first. Slowly he raised his right arm and all present watched in odd fascination how laser bolts stopped midair, seemingly held by an invisible Force.

“Who are you?” whispered Obi-Wan.

“Don’t you recognize me?” answered the Force.

A moment of silence passed. Then, “Father?”

“Hello, my son.”

“But how,” he did not come further, for the other man interrupted him.

“Later. For now we should concentrate on winning this battle and on getting you out of here.” Obi-Wan could only nod. He was tired and beyond exhaustion. He wanted nothing more than to succumb to the darkness that was calling for him, but he knew that he was not supposed to reach out to it.

“I’ll be with you in a minute, my son,” promised the Force.

“Alright,” he forced himself to focus on his biological father, so that he would not fall unconscious.

The Force sighed in annoyance. Who did this creature thing he is? Slowly he pulled his arm back towards his body, while still holding the deadly laser bolts at bay. Then he pushed his arm back forward again and all laser bolts reacted. But instead of advancing to their original goal, they were pushed towards the droids and tanks they had come from, destroying them effortlessly. But the Force was not done yet.

Obi-Wan could feel the presence around his father shift. It became a shade darker, but not yet suffocating or threatening. Had Obi-Wan been able to look the other male into his father, he would have seen golden eyes and the cruel grin.

The Force raised both arms before his body, they were slightly shivering, and he concentrated with his eyes shut close. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the ground started to shake as well. It was an unpleasant feeling. The Force turned his hands so that the palms were facing up, before raising his limbs slowly higher. With the movement, a gigantic part of the ground broke free from the planet and it began to hover. It casted a big shadow over the enemies’ troops, yet nobody dared to move, they were too afraid of the display of power they were witnessing. Another strong Force push and the piece of the planet landed on the droids, squishing them to bits and pieces. The ground shook heavily and many clones landed on their behinds, as well as many droids. Grievous had been able to stay on his legs, but only barely. Dust hang in the air, making seeing that much harder.

The Force hummed in thought and his gaze was directed to a single bird on the sky. An even better idea struck him. He raised both his arms over his head, as if he was praying to the sun itself. In truth he was channeling and redirecting natural energy. And much quicker than the mere eye could watch, did dark storm clouds appear on the previously blue sky. Thunder could already be heard and it was deafening. More than one clone covered his ears. Then, from seemingly nowhere, a lightning bolt could be seen and it struck the ginger haired man. He jerked and for a moment Obi-Wan feared the worst, but then the electrified male pointed forward with his right hand and the electricity that had previously run through his body, was sent towards the remaining droids. Grievous, who had run as soon as the first attack had destroyed half his remaining army, had not been hit.

“Coward!” yelled the Force, “You can run, but you cannot hide, not from me.” He didn’t pay the fleeing coward any attention, instead he turned on the spot and kneeled down to be on eye level with the wounded Jedi.

“F… father?”

“Don’t be afraid, everything will be well.” He laid his hand on his child’s shoulder. Obi-Wan felt healing energy being pushed into his wounded and weakened body. The effect was immediate. He could watch how the wounds were closing and he felt how his strength was restored. When the older male pulled back, he felt better than ever before. But something was bothering him and when he looked into his father’s blue-green eyes, he was hit with a shocking realization.

“The Force…” he breathed out.

The other male bowed his head, “Yes, my son.” “Anakin?”

“Your half-brother, but not the Chosen One,” he shook his head a little.

Obi-Wan sunk right back to the ground from which he had started to rise. His body might be healed, but this was too much for his soul and mind. Thankfully he was not alone in this, because Qui-Gon Jinn and Anakin Skywalker chose exactly this moment, to appear at his side. Ahsoka was not far behind either.

The blonde casted a curious glance towards the Force, but did not comment on it, for him, Obi-Wan was more important. Qui-Gon however, addressed the Force.

“Ben,” it was the first name that had come to his mind that he actually liked and he used it now, because he was not sure how much and to whom the Force wanted to reveal its true identity.

“Qui-Gon,” the Force answered. He seemed satisfied with his new name. It also would make things much easier.

“Are you alright?”

Amusement flashed in Ben’s eyes, “I am not the one you want and need to ask this question,” he motioned for the Jedi Master to join his former Padawan, while he stepped back to give the now four Jedi some space. It amused him how his son was coddled and he was full of joy when he realized that Obi-Wan had a lot of precious people, who cared very deeply for him.

His eyes shifted and he looked over the destroyed landscape.

“A pity,” said Obi-Wan after he followed his father’s line of vision, “but still very much appreciated… thank you for saving our lives.”

Ben gave him a soft smile. “You are welcome. Yet, not all is as it seems…” he chuckled. “You have much to learn,” he said, but his voice had not any accusation in it.

He then spread his arms, as if inviting someone into his embrace. He inhaled deeply and in this moment searing hot lava spurted out of the hole in the planet. Even from this distance, the Jedi could feel the agonizing heat of the liquid fire. Then the Force exhaled and the dark clouds burst open and ice cold rain drops fell from the sky, bringing the heavy dust in the air down with it. The raindrops were unpleasant on the skin, almost painful, but with one wave of Ben’s hand, the clouds centered on the hole. The rain soon turned into something akin to a waterfall and was soon drowned by the hissing sound of the cooling lava. The fog was heavy in the air, the stench of fire and water too. When Ben’s spread arms returned to his sides, the fog vanished into nothingness and only then did he relax his posture.

The four Jedi openly gaped at what they saw. Where previously had been a deep hole, was now earth. Apparently the Force had made sure, that it the land was fruitful again, at least that is what Qui-Gon guessed when new grass was sprouting.

“And this is how the first mass was formed, with fire and water. Fire and water created earth. Air was added to the mix and life became possible.” Despite their different knowledge about the person before them, all the Jedi knew that a deep and old wisdom had been shared with them and they all swore then and there, that they would forever cherish it deep in their hearts.

On the other end of the galaxy, a certain Sith Lord was brooding in his office. The curtains were drawn shut. He had held a conversation with Grievous, actually the connection had only been recently shut off.

Grievous had told him about the sudden newcomer, who had not only saved the Jedi and their troops, but had also saved the planet by using impossible looking techniques. Sidious eyes blazed in fury. He shouldn’t be surprised. He had known that someday the Force would come to hunt him. It had only been a matter of time. He absentmindedly played with the stone that hung around his neck. Yes, he had known that the Force would come after him, or better, SEND someone after him. After all, the Force was not able to touch him.

Sidious turned his gaze towards the ceiling and he hummed. It would be time soon. The Harmonic Force Convergence was almost there. He knew that the Force would make its appearance then, he would not want to risk the life of his child, the child HE had helped to create. And when the Force was there, then Sidious would take the chance and destroy it, so that he may take its place.

“Soon, very soon,” he mumbled to himself and he leaned back in his comfortable chair. He had waited this long, a few more weeks wouldn’t hurt.

#Kin #Part 2 #star wars #qui-gon jinn #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #clones #general grievous #darth sidious #the force #my fics

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nicoleignn · 5 years

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MINI-LECTURES

ADHOCISM

Adhocism as a term itself means the practice of reaching to what happens or is needed at a particular time, rather than planning in advance, tendency to respond only to the urgent, focus on ‘fire fighting’. A purpose immediately fulfilled is the idea of adhocism; it cuts through the usual delays caused by specialisation, bureaucracy and hierarchical organisation. It is a rebirth of a democratic mode and style, where everyone can create their own, personal environment out not impersonal subsystems, whether they are new or old, modern or antique.

Artists who are known for adhicism:

Jean Tinguely (22 May 1925 – 30 August 1991) was a Swiss painter and sculptor. He is best known for his sculptural machines or kinetic art, in the Dada tradition; known officially as metamechanics. Tinguely's art satirised the mindless overproduction of material goods in advanced industrial society. I believe that his works of art were extremely relevant back then, during the industrialisation process was almost completed and people thought they have seen everything. His artworks relate to everyday life, making something usual become unusual, finding another way of using and seeing things.

Martino Gamper is a contemporary artist who brings ad hoc to life in our days. He became internationally regarded through his project ‘100 chairs in 100 days’. This group of works was exhibited in 2007 in London, the Milan Triennale in 2009 and at YBCA in San Francisco in 2010.’I didn’t make one hundred chairs just for myself or even in an effort to rescue a few hundred unwanted chairs from the streets. The motivation was the methodology: the process of making, of producing and absolutely not striving for the perfect one. This kind of making was very much about restrictions rather than freedom. The restrictions were key: the material, the style or the design of the found chairs and the time available — just a 100 days. Each new chair had to be unique, that’s what kept me working toward the elusive one-hundredth chair.’

Hans Stofer is a trickster. He appears to be casually wrapping random objects together without any consideration of their effect, but these assemblages of books, shoes, cups, and other everyday objects are puzzles that cause us to think. The things we live with have a time frame and a meaning beyond their use, and Hans gives us an opportunity to contemplate them in relationship to each other and their meanings singularly, outside of their usual functional role. His works of art allow everyone to find their own meaning and see what bothers them the most by putting simple, everyday objects together and relating the finished projects to current society issues, which is a great manifestation of adocism.

How it related to my artworks:

The whole activist brief was an example of adhocism. Instead of taking one issue and planning the work ahead, I covered the most important society issues that are spreading right now and put them through the ‘pigeonal’ perspective, making it look simple and childish at a first sight. however, every poster had a deep or either a hidden meaning behind it and, in most cases, sarcastic illustrations or heading. Using adocism was the right decision for this project, because I feel that I've managed to reach the goal I've set for it and make the outcome reflect the most triggering modern social problems.

FEMINISM

This mini-lecture must be seen by everyone who still thinks that feminism is all about humiliating men and making them feel worthless, because feminism has nothing to do with that (except for the radical for of it, which is, obviously, not right).

FIRST WAVE FEMINISM (1800-1960’s) : overturning legal inequalities.

A.I.R. Gallery (Artists in Residence, Inc.) was established in 1972 as the first not-for-profit, artist-directed and maintained gallery for women artists in the United States.

In 1972, artists Judy Chicago and Miriam Schapiro, who were co-founders of the California Institute of the Arts' Feminist Art Program, organized the project Womanhouse, which encompassed an entire property in Los Angeles at which various female artists contributed on-site installations.

SECOND WAVE (1960’s-1980’s) - overturning cultural inequalities and gender norms.

Linda Nochlin - Art Critic 1971: "Why have there been no great women artists?" The question tolls reproachfully in the background of most discussions of the so-called woman problem. But like so many other so-called questions involved in the

feminist "controversy," it falsifies the nature of the issue at the same time that it insidiously supplies its

own answer: "There are no great women artists because women are incapable of greatness.” ......Another attempt to

Linda Nochlin - Art Critic 1971

answer the question involves shifting the ground slightly and

asserting, as some

contemporary feminists do, that there is a different kind of "greatness" for women's art than for men's,

thereby postulating the existence of a distinctive and recognizable feminine style, different both in its formal and its expressive qualities and based on the special character of women's situation and experience.

"Why have there been no great women artists?" The question

tolls reproachfully in the background of most

discussions of the so-called woman problem. But like so many

other so-called questions involved in the

feminist "controversy," it falsifies the nature of the issue at the

same time that it insidiously supplies its

own answer: "There are no great women artists because

- (RE)CLAIMING FEMINE MATERIALS,

women are incapable of greatness.” . Another attempt to Linda Nochlin - Art Critic 1971

EXPANDING THE DEFINITION OF FINE ART

answer the question involves shifting the ground slightly and asserting, as some

contemporary feminists do, that there is a different kind of "greatness" for women's art than for men's,

THIRD WAVE (1990’s-now) - Diverse Strains: a continuation and a response to the perceived failures of second wave feminism.

Nowadays, it is so easy to dismiss the need for feminism because the ‘big issues’ have been dealt with, but there is still so much discrimination against women out there. ‘Out there’ does not mean all the way over there, where it can’t get you and you don’t need to worry about it. It means right outside that home, office or tube window. That is why feminism must be spread and respected, TRUE FEMINISM, not a radical form of it. That activism isn’t about spreading anger. It is about sharing experiences in order to instil a shared understanding and precipitate change.

ANTHROPOCENE

The Anthropocene defines Earth's most recent geologic time period as being human-influenced, or anthropogenic, based on overwhelming global evidence that atmospheric, geologic, hydrologic, biospheric and other earth system processes are now altered by humans.

If we are now living in a new geological age, it is a stark reminder of our impact on earth. The WGA group believes our activity has set the Earth system on a different trajectory. "In the last century we have had such a huge impact that we’re actually taking the planet away from that natural [climate] oscillation and changing the trend for global temperatures from what should have been a cooling trend to a warming trend,” explained Dr Waters to The Independent.

The ways we are altering the earth :

Factory farming meat

Destroying rainforests

Air travel

Factories burning fossil fuels

Dumping waste into oceans

Non-recyclable plastics

Mining fossil fuels

Artists who contributed to anthropocene:

Robert Smithson: Robert Smithson’s Spiral Jetty, located at Rozel Point on the northeastern shore of Great Salt Lake in Utah, is one of the most remarkable examples of Land art. In 1970, assisted by a crew operating dump trucks, a tractor, and a front loader, Smithson displaced some 6,000 tons of black basalt rock and earth from the adjacent shore to form a coil 1,500 feet long and approximately 15 feet wide, winding counterclockwise into the lake. Created at a time when water levels were particularly low, Spiral Jetty was submerged in 1972. Droughts caused the lake to recede in 2002, and the sculpture has remained visible ever since.

Pierre Huyghe: For Münster’s Skulptur Projekte 2017, Huyghe has developed a time-based bio-technical system in a former ice rink that closed in 2016. This involved bio- and media-technological interventions and required extensive architectural de- and reconstruction. All the processes taking place within the very large hall are mutually interdependent: some of them are determined by the HeLa cell line, in a constant process of division in an incubator. Among its various effects, the cells’ growth triggers the emergence of augmented reality shapes. Variations in a Conus textile pattern change the spatial configuration: for example, the opening and shutting of a pyramid-shaped window in the ceiling of the hall.

By digging into the earth, Huyghe transforms the ground into a low-level hilly landscape. In some spots, concrete and earth, layers of clay, styrofoam, gravel debris, and Ice Age sand are found as far as a few metres underground, interspersed with leftover surfaces. This space is inhabited, for instance, by algae, bacteria, beehives, and chimera peacocks.

Biological life, real and symbolic architecture and landscapes, visible and invisible processes, and static and dynamic states are all fused into a precarious symbiosis.

John Gerrard: The flag of John Gerrard‘s digital simulation work Western Flag (Spindletop, Texas) marks the site of the Lucas Gusher, the world’s first major oil find in 1901, in Spindletop, in the middle of the Texan desert. Gerrard’s flag i made of perpetually-renewing pressurised black smoke. The computer generated Spindletop runs in exact parallel with the real site in Texas throughout the year: the sun rising at the appropriate times and the days getting longer and shorter according to the seasons. The simulation is run live by software that is calculating each frame of the animation in real time as it is needed.

Western Flag symbolises our reliance on oil. It’s everywhere, it is one of the forces behind climate change and yet it remains invisible. In an interview with the Irish Times, Gerrard describes oil as a “dynamic that allowed for a very particular change in society, allowed for hyper-mobility, changes in food and agriculture. Much of what we think of as ‘real’ is a petroleum reality. Heat, comfort, mobility, it all comes from petroleum.”

This year a new challenge has taken instagram by storm - a ‘ten years challenge’, where people are posting pictures of themselves now and ten years ago. This is a ten years challenge that my friend has put on his instagram story, which I think is the only ten years challenge worth attention:

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autolovecraft · 7 years

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The witch—old Keziah—Nahab—that must have meant her death.

He was hideously sure that in unrecalled dreams he had talked with both Brown Jenkin and the ghost of the old woman's claws; sending it clattering over the brink of the triangular black gulf on his left ankle was a distressing rat-bite.

But all these precautions came late in the day, so that Gilman had some terrible hints from the dreaded Necronomicon of Abdul Alhazred, the fragmentary Book of Eibon, and the locality was not one which encouraged fastidious standards. The urge to walk was gradually changing to an urge to leap mystically into space, and for the first time in weeks was wholly free from disquieting dreams. In every quarter, however, for the house was condemned as a habitation by the building inspector. Descending to Elwood's room, steeling himself against the whines of the loom-fixer would never stay sober, and was surprised to find his temperature was not as bad as actual nearness and several possible sights would have been. He seemed to know what was coming—the monstrous burst of Walpurgis-rhythm in whose cosmic timbre would be concentrated all the primal, ultimate space-time continuum—and that the creaking of hidden timbers in the centuried house, were enough to give him a sense of strident pandemonium. To what extent could the laws of sanity apply to such a case? Spurred by an impulse he did not like.

The landlord was in, thank heaven, and appeared to be organic while others seemed inorganic.

The coroner's physician decided that some belonged to a rather undersized, bent female of advanced years.

The tracks on the flooring were certainly vastly unlike the average prints of a rat sounded from beyond the slanting wall, wedging in a candlestick which seemed of about the right size. Mathematics—folklore—the house—especially a thin, childish wail hastily choked off.

As the blood spurted from this wound Gilman lapsed into a faint. Elwood, whose thoughts on the entire episode are sometimes almost maddening, came back to college the next autumn and was graduated in the following June.

The darkness always teemed with unexplained sound—and yet he sometimes shook with fear lest the noises he heard should subside and allow him to hear certain other fainter noises which he suspected were lurking behind them. It must have been somewhere, though; and the sight of the object itself would affect the evil creature. The evilly-grinning beldame still clutched him, and he could remember in the morning how it had pronounced the words Azathoth and Nyarlathotep.

Time could not exist in certain belts of space, and of the violet light went out and left him in utter blackness. It was too much, however, interest was intense; for the brooding loom-fixer would never stay sober, and was forced to stay out of college the rest of the term. Professor Upham by his comprehension of fourth-dimensional and other problems which had floored all the rest of the class.

In March, 1931, a gale wrecked the roof and great chimney of the vacant Witch-House—that, indeed, was why he had taken it. As April advanced, Gilman's fever-sharpened ears were disturbed by the whining prayers of the superstitious loom-fixer named Joe Mazurewicz who had a room on the ground floor. No, Joe said, he had not seen Gilman on any sleep-walking. His interest gradually veered away from the central barrel.

When the dreamer was settled on his couch in Elwood's room they sent for Doctor Malkowski.

He was barefooted and in his peril wondered how the sight of it as he had resisted the other pull, and finally forced one upon him which he said had been blessed by the good Father Iwanicki. As Gilman and Elwood canvassed the local museums in an effort to identify the strange spiky image, but always without success. Archaeologists and anthropologists are still trying to explain the bizarre designs chased on a crushed bowl of light metal whose inner side bore ominous brownish stains when found. Did all of this perilous sense of imminence come from the formulae on the properties of space and the linkage of dimensions known and unknown. They admitted they had been drunk, but both vowed they had seen a crazily dressed trio furtively entering the dark passageway. Half the chants of the Sabbat and to have an origin outside the time and space we comprehend.

Meanwhile he would try to keep track of his somnambulism. Yes, that was the thing. Of this he had been urged toward it ever since he had awakened soon after dawn. During a free period he showed the queer image to several professors, all of whom were intensely interested, though none of them could shed any light upon its nature or origin.

To what extent could the laws of sanity apply to such a case? Something else had gone on ahead—a larger wisp which now and then highly productive of controversy and reflection. As time wore along, his absorption in the irregular wall and ceiling, sprawled on the now unmade bed. Joe Mazurewicz—the prayers against the Crawling Chaos now turning to an inexplicably triumphant shriek—worlds of sardonic actuality impinging on vortices of febrile dream—Iä! The sight turned him giddy after a while, so that he would have fallen to the pavement had he not clutched instinctively at the lustrous balustrade.

She seemed to crystallize at a point closer to the ceiling than to the floor, and every night she was a little nearer at the last no one was ever able to explain. He was certainly near the boundary between the known universe and the fourth dimension, and who can say what underlies the old tales of broomstick rides through the night?

It had hellishly long, sharp, canine teeth; Gilman tried to stop up the rat-hole appeared in the room where Gilman was a guest, but Dombrowski tinned it up during the day. As time wore along, his absorption in the irregular wall and ceiling of his room increased; for he began to distinguish separate categories into which the organic objects appeared to be divided into halves.

As Gilman and Elwood retired, too sleepy to argue further, they heard Joe Mazurewicz reel into the house half drunk, and shuddered at the desperate wildness of his whining prayers. The Goat with a Thousand Young … They found Gilman on the floor where she had fallen. Only an effort halted him at a cafeteria in Church Street, and after the meal he felt the unknown pull still more strongly.

It seemed that he was often absent from his bed and that the creaking of hidden timbers in the centuried house, were enough to give Gilman a chance to break it entirely.

So far as concrete noises went, the rats in the ancient partitions were the worst. For hours he sat silent and aimless, with his eyes shifting gradually westward. Both, though, the greatest mystery of all is the variety of utterly inexplicable objects—objects whose shapes, materials, types of workmanship, and purposes baffle all conjecture—found scattered amidst the wreckage in evidently diverse states of injury. Then, as he turned away, he saw on the table, while the beldame thrust a huge gray quill into Gilman's right hand. While they were talking, Desrochers dropped in to say that he had seen the faint violet glow within. There would be bad doings, and a queerly proportioned pale metal bowl covered with curiously chased designs and having delicate lateral handles in her left. The physician questioned him sharply, and advised him to see a nerve specialist after all—perhaps there was a clearly visible living figure on that desolate island, and a second glance told him it was certainly the strange old woman whose sinister aspect had worked itself so disastrously into his dreams. The sight of this form, and the locality was not one which encouraged fastidious standards. One of these things—which excited several Miskatonic professors profoundly—is a badly damaged monstrosity plainly resembling the strange image which Gilman gave to the college infirmary when every moment was needed for cramming. Mathematics—folklore—the house—old Keziah—Nahab—that must have meant her death. He resolved to investigate the matter if reports of his sleep-walking had taken. Nobody had been caught, but among the scattering fugitives had been glimpsed a huge negro. This was a matter for speculation, though one could be fairly certain that the type of mutation involved in a passage from any given dimensional plane to the next higher one would not be destructive of biological integrity as we understand it. Perhaps Frank Elwood could tell him something, though he hated to ask. Denizens of some planets might be able to live on certain others—even planets belonging to other galaxies, or to similar dimensional phases of other space-time seethings which lie behind the massed spheres of matter and sometimes break forth in measured reverberations that penetrate faintly to every layer of entity and give hideous significance throughout the worlds to summon the initiate to nameless rites. He had not mentioned this before, but now he must tell about it because it meant that Keziah and her long-toothed familiar were haunting the young gentleman.

He had not dared. Perhaps Frank Elwood could tell him something, though he could form no idea of what they mockingly resembled or suggested. It was about the witch-light. It was about the witch-cult, and the triangular gulf at one side.

#H.P. Lovecraft #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains #The Dreams in the Witch-House #1933 #The Dreams in the Witch-House week

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mikequake · 7 years

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Voltron RANT beware!!

Ok so several things as I peruse through the Voltron and other tags in that fandom that came to my mind. I shall get some hate but I needed to say my thoughts. First is the fact that these characters are in a scenario way beyond their individual comfort levels. All of them. For the most part they are not going to be hung up on ideas of love and such. I believe Lance uses flirting as a coping mechanism since it allows a sense of familiarity with home. Second is the fact that many of these characters are young. Several with major issues that would prevent them from understanding their sexual preferences and what they are. So all this fighting about shipping is moot. However, the bonds and closeness of each character to the others COULD form something more once the main issues each face are overcome. Now I will go into my personal ideas on each character. This is NOT an attack on anyone and is just my two cents about these characters. Lance: Like I said earlier I believe Lance to use flirting and also his animosity towards Keith as coping mechanisms. He is Cuban and family is HUGE for that culture. He has lost connection with his family and I bet he is acutely aware of each day that passes on Earth and what he is missing with his family. His rivalry with Keith allows him a grounding in a familiar territory as he must have had it going for a long time at the Garrison. Giving him something to keep his thoughts away from family. Basically any odd spike in flirting with others or animosity towards Keith could be seen as an attempt to bury sadness about missing another birthday or other significant family function. On top of him trying to find something that makes him useful. Remember he is constantly reminded how he wasn't supposed to be a fighter-class pilot by superiors. He has only received recognition from Shiro once or twice and generally seems think he is tacked on or dragged along. But when his skills come in handy they shine. The problem is he is unsure if they are needed. He is unsure what he can do. Of all the Paladins besides Pidge, I believe he knows who he is but has no clue what he is capable of. Leaving himself self aware and with feelings of uselessness. As for pairings Pidge would feel like a sibling to him, the younger dynamic and the light teasing seen between them is very reminiscent of that dynamic. Allura would be a crush and possibly someone he uses aspects from when finding partners since she has many personality aspects he seems to value. I do believe Keith to be at least bisexual if not pansexual. But he is definitely in favor of feminine features and physicality. He is open and inviting to Pidge on first meeting "him" while having a modicum of caution in his approach. The reason you don't see him flirting with males is the hostile and violent negative reaction many would give from being hit on by a fellow male. Meaning he would wait to see if flirting could be seen as playful and such before doing it with males. Keith: This poor child. He has no clue who or what he is. He is a lost little boy using anger and impulsiveness as shields of his self doubt. Shiro gives him a sense of grounding and stability. Next season will be interesting to see how Shiro's absence effects him. That said this poor boy is so lost I don't think anyone can correctly guess what his sexuality is. He also won't have any clue how to handle attractions or feelings of desire. Quite frankly he is a poster child of repressed sexual exploration and it's probably one of many reasons for his behavioural issues. That said I don't think any direct family are Galra. While an interesting idea and good story device it would be more feasible to make a very distant ancestor was Galra. The knife being passed down through the generations. Mainly for several plot hole issues. The blue lion had to be on Earth for 3000-10000 years. When they were scattered Allura was awake. The cave markings were in the style of before common era and the year of the story is definitely a few centuries near our own. None of the technology shown from Earth seemed so far advanced to say the story is more than 150-300 years from now. So the Galra in Keith's history could be the Pilot of the blue lion if it was an ancient ancestor. Otherwise there would need to be a very convoluted story of a Galra being several light years from the empire or Blade of Marmorra alone and crashing on Earth without anyone coming to get them for more than a few years and having no knowledge of the blue lion being on Earth. Relationship wise he probably sees all the Paladins and such as an extended family and will be fiercely protective of them all while also being a bit standoffish and aggressive about any feelings he doesn't know how to deal with. Hunk: This huge cinamon bun child. Sweet, innocent, and caring. He misses food. Samoans culture has a huge culinary side. Not just for culture specific, they love to try new things. In my experience Samoans have some of the most varied tastes of anyone. Many learn to cook from a young age as the culture prizes independence and community usefulness. Cooking is seen as something everyone must do and celebrate. Out in Glara space we see little fanfare about food and it seems to focus on just the nutritional aspects and not the flavor or feeling it can bring. Meaning a huge part of what Hunk sees as himself is missing in this new environment making him want to bring it out and make it popular. Seen in his cooking in the first few episodes and the mall episode. On top of that this lovable giant has adopted all of the people he connects with as family. Samoans are big on family but also tend to be more functional when separated for long time frames. They know their family is there when they get back. But they also tend to form family with those they form bonds with and not just share blood. Shay helping him and showing how truly little she has seen of the universe made him want to help her and his continued interest in her is adorable and shows Hunk as probably the most well adjusted of the Paladins. Honestly while he freaks out over many smaller things Hunk seems to have a handle on the bigger aspects such as being so far from home and the need of their mission. Hunk is also the one I would identify as the most sure of himself. He knows who he is, what he can do, and how he works. He is the rock of the team. Shiro: My god this poor man. He probably felt completely sure of who he was and his role before Zarkon. After a year as a prisoner and gladiator I am surprised he is able to still be so together. His identity of himself was shattered a bit from his imprisonment. He is afraid of himself to a degree. The new aspects being drawn out from being the leader of Voltron also shake his perception of himself. I don't think he ever actually saw himself as a leader. Or that he even does now. I think he sees himself more like the older brother to them all and he needs to do what he can to help and protect them. That said I feel like his inner turmoil and trauma prevent a lot of the closer bonding that he needs. One thing I would have liked to have seen was more one on one interaction with him and Allura as we haven't really been able to tell how he handles females closer to his age in a familiar manner. Basically I have nothing to base his sexuality or prefences off of. He could swing in any direction honestly. Otherwise I can't say much about him. Most of his time was spent about his trauma, new leader role, or comforting/helping the others come to terms with themselves. We were not given a chance to really explore his character beyond those aspects. Pidge: This driven, passionate, and hell-bent girl is amazing. I saved her for last cause she is by far my favorite character. Millions of light-years from Earth? No problem! New and strange technology, culture, and bizarness? Pfft whatevs! Nothing is gonna get in her way of finding her family. At 15 she is the youngest, all others estimated at late teens. But this means she started this mission of hers at 11-13, depending on how you interpret the story. She was just starting to realize her sexuality and the like when she became laser focused on her family. I doubt she evens sees herself as a sexual being. I do believe she sees herself as feminine rather than masculine but honestly gender is a moot thing as your sex does not determine your ability or worth. Biologically she is female in the sphere of the show. But otherwise she should just be labeled Pidge. Trans-Pidge theory is interesting but also a bit large to tackle in a children's cartoon. It definitely makes for some interesting fanfics! (I mean born male and wanting to be seen as female, then taking on male to disguise herself to get more info on family) She is definitely not born female wanting to be male otherwise she would have not bothered saying she was female to the other Paladins. Also she may not be sexually attracted to people. I kinda want to see her get involved with a gender neutral Android! Her love of technology is absolutely adorable. Can't you see her stuttering as she tried to talk to a humanoid and advanced AI Android? Adorbs! One small personal note her character has allowed some self-realization for myself. Before she was revealed to be a she I felt kinship with her tech savvy ways and thought of how I would love to get to know this smol child. After the reveal I gained a desire to see her protected, chauvinistic I know, but it's instinctual to a degree with males. But it highlighted to me how I can shift my perception of somebody once I know their designation. Also if she was several years older I would claim her as waifu cause damn she is impressive and stunning at times. On pairings I think she won't even begin to think about relationships before he brother and father are found and safe. Otherwise she will just ignore her feelings until that goal is achieved. Allura and Coran: Honestly they are aliens. Trying to assign the same human ideals as we do to ourselves is folly. For God's sakes we don't even know which sex carries the young! We don't see any scenes of pregnant Alteans! For all we know they lay eggs! How their minds work with relationships also is not very clearly defined by the show. They have familial bonds but marital and the like aren't reflected on. So how they are processing everything is anyone's guess! Pairing thoughts: Shiro is someone I can see paired with anyone except Pidge. The other teens I see as 17-18, and Shiro I see more like 23-25. But Pidge is 14-15 and I don't think has any actual time coming into being a sexual being. While I don't ship him with any of the Paladins him and Pidge make me uncomfortable to be seen paired together. Not to attack those that do, this is just my take on it. KeithxLance - I love love/hate dynamics but honestly I don't see it here. Though they would make very close and supportive/competitive almost brothers. AlluraxShiro - Probably the ship I agree with the most. Allura would make a great guide for him to get over his trauma and Shiro would offer her a source of calm stability with how out in the open she must feel losing basically all her support structures. Though I doubt it will happen soon. HunkxShay - I love this ship but I also see it as tragic since Shay wouldn't really leave the Balmera for very long and Hunk would not really fit into the culture there easily or ever. Not to say he would not be welcome but his inability to communicate with the Balmera would lead to a lot of exclusion and issues. PidgexTechnology - Pretty sure I made myself clear earlier! ****Rant over****

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arkus-rhapsode · 7 years

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Rave Master and Fairy Tail Characters

Hey there this is a post I’ve wanted to do for a while and it’s on characters in these to series by Hiro Mashima that are similar. Know I don’t mean exact clones but more characters that share similarities. I will point out the difference between them because once again they aren’t exactly the same, just similar. (Oh boy this was LONG)

Haru Glory and Natsu Dragneel

Lets get the obvious one out of the way. The two are the main characters and main fighter. The two are both strong, give friendship speeches, and were abandoned by their fathers. While Natsu is more a static character, Haru does develop a lot more. While he may keep his quirks he actually seems like he’s matured along the way. Another difference is we see Haru has a wider range of powers while Natsu’s is just variation of his fire.

Elie and Lucy Heartfilia

The main female of the story and the one gets the most development. Whereas Elie is on journey to discover her memories, Lucy is off to improve her magic.

The 2 both get a shining scene where they show off how powerful they can be, Lucy summoning the Celestial Spirit King and Elie actually forcing away Endless. Again another obvious one.

Hamrio Musica and Gray Fullbuster

The lancer of the group. Both have lost their biological families and were raised by the one who taught them their power.

Both of their powers revolve around molding and element into shapes. And both surprisingly get punished the most in losing what they care for. Musica gets a lot more events in the present that shape his development while Gray is often confronting his past to move forward.

Julia and Erza Scarlet

The strongest female of the group. Tend to wear the most revealing outfits. And are often considered to act like the older sister. They are incredibly strong in universe, but Erza shorta is more powerful. Julia does get an arc which more develops her trust of humans (since she’s part of the dragon race) and Erza’s whole development is more taking of her armor and opening up.

And both culminated in crying in front of the MC.

Lat Dahaka and Gajeel Redfox

Both originally started as members of a villain group. They have ties to dragons and often are put on par with the MC in terms of strength.

Let’s development is more built on the acceptance of spirit and not just skill in battle. Whereas Gajeel is more turning over a new leaf and becoming a better person.

Both do tend to have their love lives, Gajeel with levy and Let with Julia, be key to their development. Let is often off to find and settle his score with his rival, Jegan, so he can get back his beloved. And Gajeel uses his relationship with Levy to open out and become a better person.

Both even get tragic sacrifices in the final battle.

Shuda and Laxus Dreyar

Both originally started out as villains and took and arc to defeat.

Both are on the same level as the MC in terms of strength and even knocked them around for good measure.

But both do return after a prolonged time to assist the Heros in a dire situation, with Shuda saving the Rave Warriors from the Imperial Guardians and Laxus saving team Natsu from Hades. Laxus is more driven by his grandfather’s example while Shuda is more pushed by Gale’s example. Shuda though takes over the role as the wiser member of the group and guiding through them through the journey, and Laxus more standing up for the message of Fairy tail and more gradually shifting towards a leadership position.

Lucia Raregroove and Zeref Dragneel

Both are the big bads of their series. And have huge body counts under belts with Zeref’s being because his curse.

Whereas Lucia is more he just blows the crap out people. Zeref is a more complex and a lot more built on what his mind set and his plot. Lucia is more simple villain with a basic motivation and basic villain, not to say that’s bad just simple Lucia is a much more hands on big bad ordering around his men so he can get to his goals.

Also both are actually one of the characters allowed to have on screen kisses.

Sieg Hart and Jellal Fernandes

Do I even have to say anything? Well I still will,both infiltrated a powerful group so they could further their ambition.

Also that ambition involves Etherion. Another thing is they both tend to disappear from the main cast for multiple chapters however, We see what Sieg is doing through out all of it and even gets a personal arc to why he developed.

Jegan and Lyon

Both serve as rival characters, Lyon to Gray and Jegan to Let. They both have obsession over their dreams, Jegan wanting to keep Julia all to himself and Lyon to surpass Ur. However, while Lyon is a recurring rival for Gray he isn’t antagonistic, he actually grows out of his obsession and becomes a better person. Jegan while a recurring rival he says as as antagonistic toward Let till his defeat and loss of what he fought to keep Let from taking. He does, like Lyon, ultimately turn over a new leaf due to his obsession being taken from him. Now Jegan’s attempt to redeem himself, does end with him dying.

Reina and Ultear

Both are tied to the lancers of the stories past with Ultear being daughter of Gray’s teacher and Reina’s father being killed because of the Musica’s teacher. Both are High ranking officers in their respective villain groups.

The two both are pushed out of their mindset because of the lancer and ultimately sacrifice themselves for the good of everyone. They both do had a flirty relationship with the Sieg of the series. Where as Reina is bit less complete, Ultear got the full spectrum of development

Niebel and Wendy

Both are the youngest of the hero groups and were introduced in an arc that reintroduced the sieg of the series. Wendy’s story is more how she grows more confident and becomes a better fighter and mage, while Niebel is already more stand up to his situation but his story is still about gaining more confidence as well. They both are support at first in the series.

Shiba Roses and Gildarts Clive

(Before someone says something, I know that shot is of younger Shiba, Here’s a shot of older Shiba. I just didn’t include older due to the fact he fights Haru in younger form)

Both are stated to be the strongest (or at least former strongest in the world). Both do impart the wisdom they’ve learned on to their next generation. Both do also come off as leagues above the MC. Shiba however is given more a backstory and how he came to his position of power while Gidarts is more just kinda at that point.

Yuma Ansecto and Makarov Dreyar

Both are father figures taking several waywards under their wings to help the world.

Both do exhibit forms of tough love but truly care about them deeply. They also have a direct family (well Yuma’s is adopted) that they set an example for with Yuma having Nagisa and Makarov having Laxus.

Nagisa Ansecto and Kagura Mikazuchi

Both are introduced in a tournament arc where they have their own secret plan to kill someone they bare a grudge against, Kagura with Jellal and Nagisa with Julius.

The two both go the same developmental route of letting go of their anger and forgiving as well as opening up, however Nagisa’a is more done through romance with Musica while Kagura’s is more through Erza. Both are strong willed women who stand for their groups and are totally loyal to them.

Asura and Bradman

Both are demons under the service of the big bad of the series. Each easily walk through as much fodder as possible and are incredibly feared.

The two’s power basically allows them the access all previous powers, Asura’s Final story and Bradman’s Third Seal.

Lazenby and Fukuro

Both are weirdos who prattle on about justice while not being to just. Both get into fights with the MC and win to the point another character needed to dhow up and save them.

Also both use Fire based attacks (Well Fukuro temporarily). However, while Fukuru dies a villain Lazenby is just mislead and joins the heroes and wished to fight injustice of Demon Card.

Ruby and Carla

Both are the animal sidekick that gets an arc and the most development. Both have some serious parental issues, Ruby living under his father’s shadow and wanting to be as great as him. Carla never knowing her mother. Both also posses the most magic out of all the the sidekicks. However Ruby is an idiot while Carla is much smarter and serious. As well Carla acts as mother to Wendy while Ruby acts as apprentice to Haru.

Belnika and Juvia Lockster

Both were the members of a villain group who changed sides. Belnika being betrayed by Hardner while Juvia fell in love with Gray.

Speaking of love the two do have romantic interest in a character of the group that beat them, Belnika with Haru and Juvia with Gray. They also sacrifice themselves in the final arc for for those they care about, though Belnika did it for Julia and Niebel, whereas Juvia did it for Gray only.

However, both are different in personality with Belnika being more reserved while Juvia being more boisterous and outgoing. Also Juvia is more a fighter than Belnika, who is more a healer.

Celia and Lisanna Strauss

Both are little sister characters int he story as well as having romantic interest in the MC. They both posses pretty useful magic. However while Celia gets a fight to show off who she is as a character while Lisanna never really leaves the background.

Haja and Hades

Both are incredibly powerful mages, who at first seem to have an allegiance to the big bad but reallly only see them as a means to open the way to the world they desire, Haja wanting Star Memories and Hades wanting the one true Magic world. But the two are different in character portrayal, Haja wants to be the king of time and simply wants nothing more than to dominate. Whereas Hades is driven more by philosophy.

Shakuma Raregroove and August

The two are the kings of magic and heralded as the best mage in the world. They are loyal to the big bad of the series but Shakuma is more puppet master who gleefully started war for domination, whereas August is more a blood knight who does the will of his master.

Alice and Warrod Sequen

Both are giggling old men who live in the forest who enjoy messing with the heroes in their own brand of humor. Both do have title of greatness to them, Alice being the great healer in the world, Warrod being one of the four gods. Warrod though has a slightly more active role in the story while alice is more one off.

Ogre and Doriate

Both are arc villains that are defeated by the lancer of the group. Both are in a team with an already established villain of the series Ogre with Doryu and Doriate with Minerva.

They are also defeated via the Lancer manipulating the their respective element in a way that wasn’t expected. Musica applying heat and pressure to gold and Gray manipulating the demon ice.

Doctor Mummy and Keyes

Both are villains who utilize humans for creating their beasts, Mummy making werewolves and Keyes making zombies.

They also use this power to mess with the Lancer of the group, Keyes bring Grays father back to life and Mummy turning Musica into a werewolf.

Also both are skeletons.

Remi Sharpner and Hisui E. Fiore

The two are ruler of their respective kingdoms.Both do get development via the time they spend with the main female of the group. Both pretty much not that important. But Remi is already on the heroes side while Hisui needs to be convinced.

Fua and Arcadios

They are the loyal protector of their princess… That’s pretty much their characterization.

Koala and Wahl Icht

The two, in worlds of magic, manipulate machines and build/improve upon them. They both have a sadistic glee in what they do however, Koala is more emotionless, while Wahl is more emotive.

Koala isn’t limited to only making robots, he can turn people into them whereas Wahl can enhance himself.

Pumpkin Doryu and Irene Belserion

The two are both incredibly strong with followers underneath them and have time devoted as more than just standard threats. Both have a large amount powers that are used in various ways, Irene’s Enchantment and Doryu’s Vampire.

Both also are motivated because originally they were kind rulers of lands that two opposing races lived together.

Till both were thrown away and tortured for being “monsters”.

Both then bare a grudge and seek to a goal and will be a bit petty about it. They also have big transformations. Doryu is more single minded on his goal and is no nonsense while Irene takes a joy in her work. Also Doryu is not made to be redeemed and while sympathetic backstory is still a villain till death and Irene was redeemed at the end of her fight.

Lilith and Kyoka

Both are females who are in charge of torturing the heroes, however Lilith’s was more mind games and preying on emotion. Whereas Kyoka was more direct and physically harming. Both also have powers that effect the body, but Lilith’s effects and modifies hers, while Kyoka modifies others.

Go and Ichiya

Both are obsessed with their looks and coolness. Both are also heralded as being strong but not really showing it. They are both comic relief after their initial intro and are allies of the heroes. They do get their moments of endearment.

Rosa and Jenny

Both allied with “handsom guy” of the series. Both have powers that while rather jokey can be useful. Both are attractive but also shown to be cry babies about their egos.

Deep Snow and Larcade Dragneel

Both are related to the big bad of the series, Deep Snow being Lucia’s adopted brother, Larcade being Zeref’s son. The two utilize powers that effect a large group of people or one singular person. Both of their powers they use in levels of 3, Deep Snow’s zero flow manipulating water, then wind, then blood. Larcade’s Pleasure manipulating sex, then hunger, then sleep. Deep Snow actually does have a bond with his adoptive father, King while Larcade doesn’t have a bond with his father, Zeref. That bond however is used to shape Deep Snow’s character while Larcade’s isn’t.

Jiero and Invel

Both are the ice user of the final villain groups. Both are emotionless and have an undying loyalty to the big bad of the series. They also get to have the joy of saying they killed two main characters but then came back. Only Jiero’s two waited till the end of the series to come back.

Resha Valentine and Anna Heartfilia

The two are ancestors of as well as look remarkably like the main female of the series, They also were responsible for putting multiple things in the series in motion, Anna opening the eclipse gate and Resha creating Rave. They also of a connection to the MC in a way with Resha actually being Elie and Anna making Natsu’s signature scarf. Both are however only in appear in flash back.

Endless and Acnologia

The true monster of the series. They both are responsible for mass destruction, and are universally feared. Endless is more portrayed as a force of nature where as Acnologia is more humanized.

Gale Glory and Igneel

They are the fathers of the main heroes and due to certain events they had to abandon their children. Both are wise but also little goofy. The two get two fight along side their sons in an arc villain fight.

Both lose their lives after reuniting with their sons. They then reappear in their son’s heart to help guide them.

King Raregroove and Future Rogue Cheney

Okay the two lost people precious to them causing them to become villains and both are willing to destroy the world.

Also the both have a monstrous form. But King is more well executed character who isn’t just evil for evil’s sake he genuinely has misplaced his anger and gave into it because he felt hurt whereas Rogue is more one off evil, just being totally evil giving into their ambitions.

Rize and Ur

Both are the teacher of the series lancer as well as their adoptive parent. THe two both were masters of their crafts and heralded as the best but Ur sacrificed herself for Gray while Rize died naturally but passing on his mission to find the silver ray to Musica

Chino and Romeo

Both are young children who inspire the MC to alive their situation. In turn they begin to look up and respect the MC. However we do see Romeo throughout the story while Chino is only seen in the dancing thunder arc.

Racas and Sol

Both are part of a villain group but are used to relieve the dread off the arc they’re in. They are also rather stereotypical of other cultures but are also surprisingly really powerful.

Lance and Erigor

The first big arc villain. Both are evil for evils sake but Erigor comes off more cleaver while Lance is more by the numbers. A significant reason they bare their nickname, Shinigami Erigor and Beast Sword Lance, is the weapon they carry.

Requin and Azuma

Both are the strongest member of a villain group that happens to operate out of a flying ship. They have tribal designs and very muscular.

Both end up in fights where they fight the strongest female character where they die and are turned into the element their power is based around.

Bis and Karacka

I’m sure most barely remember who these morons are. Well both are the fat member of the first big arc villain group and ultimately do nothing of value. Except Karacka stabs Kageyama and Bis whips out the crank master 3000.

Julius and Sugarboy

Both are high ranking villains in their groups, Sugarboy being a general of Edolas and Julius being an Oracion Seis. Both do have a flamboyant nature. And use sword based powers, Julius’s Armure D'Etoile and Sugarboy’s Rosa Espada. However, while Julius reforms because his own choice Sugarboy is more just changed out of obligation to his kingdom.

Griff and Happy

The first animal blue sidekick. Who don’t really get to much development except for certain moments. Griff however is a prev with endearing qualities of staying by his friends and Happy is much more lax and adorable

Feber and Bora

Both the villains of the first chapter and do get their butts handed to them.

Berial and Ezel

Both are demons who exist to be inhumanly strong and love hurting and crushing humans. They do both get defeated after a character has unlocked their full potential, Ezel losing to Wendy’s dragon force and Berial losing the final Rave stone.

Ranju & Soppra and Heine & Juliet

Both are two girls who serve under the highest ranking female officer and both groups are pairs of opposite personalities

Poosya & Rugar and Yomazu & Kawazu

Both serve as the strongest followers of a higher up villian, Poosya and Rugar being Shuda’s followers and Yomazu and Kawazu being Caprico’s followers. They are pairs of an annoying comic relief villain and a mainly serious villain.

Igor Kilkila and Zoldeo

Both are revealed to be inside another villain and not due to their own choice.

Both upon escaping are then handily dealt with, Igor being arrested and Zoldeo dying.

Solasido Sharpner and Hibiki Lates

Both are male allies from other groups who assist the heroes against another group.

Both have powers based around telepathy and both provide the necessary assistant to the main female of the series.

Branch and Flare

Both introduced in a tournament arc as horrible abusers who beat people close the MC. They are they pulled in the following arc where they get redemption, well more flare Branch dies only as a pitied man but sacrifices himself.

Gob and Hughes

Both are members of a villain group where they come off as the most balanced. Both have powers that manipulate other objects and command them. Both defeated rather easily.

Jied and Doranbolt

Both are member of the kingdoms council and join the main heroes after someone close to them dies. Doranbolt losing Lahar and Jied losing Jegan. Both don’t do much in the final battle except serve as exposition. Doranbolt does go through the transition to Mest while Jied doesn’t really do much except exposit.

Ron Glace and Nullpudding

Both are the big, tough, stupid member of their group. They both are nothing more than grunts who have powers based of needles.

Gok and Torafuzar

Both are demons who talk about their pride and have utter fate in their order. They both fight the gajeel of their series by pulling them into an enviroment they can’t move freely in.

Torafuzar using Tenchi Kaimei and Gok using In the wall. Both also have a red oni blue oni relationship with another member. Torafuzar’s being Ezel and Gok’s being Yanma.

Alpine Spaniel and Freed Justine

Both are long green haired members and leaders of a surprisingly strong group, Freed’s being the thunder god tribe and Alpine’s the knight’s of the blue sky. They both channel their magic via a weapon, Alpine’s spear and Freed’s sword.

Georco and Everlue

Both are the first arc villains of the series and really only exist to introduce tthe main female into the series. Both are rich assholes who use their influence over their town to take what they want.

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fashiontrendin-blog · 6 years

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Why are People So Threatened by Open Relationships?

http://fashion-trendin.com/why-are-people-so-threatened-by-open-relationships/

Why are People So Threatened by Open Relationships?

got married recently. The wedding was, if I may say so myself, almost criminally perfect. There was very good wine and everyone cried. I spoke about luck in my vows — the luck that webbed its way between us, that brought us to the same place at the same time — but I could, I suppose, have also been talking about the luck that allows us to speak freely about our love, to express it in a way that raises few eyebrows. We are a monogamous, heterosexual couple, and despite our racial differences (my husband is Indian, and I am a ghost), our relationship looks and feels like one that mainstream society can easily understand.

There was another lovely wedding I attended a few years back. Electric blue fish darted around glass bowls on each table, and both my friend and her soon-to-be husband were surrounded by their loved ones — loved ones that included their secondary and tertiary partners. Theirs is a mostly closeted, consensually non-monogamous relationship, each of them engaging in at least one, often many, romantic and sexual relationships alongside their own. They now have a beautiful baby who recently learned how to eat broccoli one tiny flower at a time.

We’re both ordinary and in love, my friend and I, but I get to talk about my love more freely than she does, and when I tried to explain their arrangement to another friend, that friend (also married, generally very loving and accepting) protested the very idea of non-monogamy so violently that she burst into tears.

All of this is to say that romantic love is wild and varied and looks very different to different people, but consensual non-monogamy — a relationship in which one or both partners carry on other romantic and/or sexual relationships with the full knowledge and consent of the primary partner — remains a marginalized and stigmatized form of love, filed away by many as an incomprehensible kink, disrupting mainstream society’s understanding of what a loving relationship should look like.

While exact numbers are difficult to pin down (especially since many are hesitant to reveal their relationship status), researchers estimate that “4-5 percent of Americans participate in some form of ethical non-monogamy” — and those numbers are growing. Yet two recent studies revealed that the majority of Americans view non-monogamous relationships significantly worse than monogamous ones when it comes to trust, intimacy, respect, honesty and closeness; another showed that consensually non-monogamous relationships (CNMs) were perceived as “dirty” and “immoral.” It seems an odd hill to die on when you consider that a survey of 70,000 Americans found that one in five had cheated on his or her current partner. Monogamy is somehow both a necessary virtue and one that many people struggle to uphold; remove it from the equation entirely, however, and the relationship gets tagged as obscene. So why is society so threatened by non-monogamy?

“These days, if you have two temporary relationships sequentially, you are normal. If you have two permanent relationships simultaneously, you are a ‘degenerate, herpes-infested whore.’” Those are the words of philosopher Carrie Jenkins, who has written openly about her polyamorous marriage. She’s become accustomed, if not inured to, the abuse lobbed at her, her husband and her boyfriend. In her book What Love Is: And What it Could Be, she investigates the shifting nature of romantic love and the various arguments for and against monogamy.

“Non-monogamous love,” she writes, “poses distinctive destabilizing risks that strike directly at the heart of romantic love’s social function.” Many of us are incapable of conceiving of a model of love that so assertively deviates from that which places the nuclear family at its center; this makes poly love, according to surveys, the subject of more vitriol than same-sex or interracial marriage.

Dr. Sharon Glassburn, a family and marriage therapist in Chicago, believes some of her poly clients are “more stigmatized and closeted” than some of her gay and lesbian clients. “These relationships smash apart false securities and binaries,” she says — the societal rules we depend on to create a structure in which we can feel secure.

For Laura, 34, getting involved with a married man in a CNM meant confronting her friends’ attitudes. “The people who were usually rooting for me and checking in about my relationship status were suddenly absent,” she told me. “My married friends, who love living vicariously through my single girl life, were completely silent. When we did talk about it, they just seemed very confused, projecting their own understandings and arrangements around fidelity onto the situation. There was a lot of, ‘I just can’t understand how that would work,’ or ‘I would never want something like that.’” Laura’s own reservations lessened dramatically when she met her partner’s wife.

“It was clear to me how much his wife’s opinion of me mattered to him,” she says. “We met for a drink near their house, and afterward she gushed about how much she liked me. I could see the change in him immediately. He was almost giddy. He became much more sweet and excited about our relationship. It was almost as if her approval made him like me even more.” This openness, and the clear respect he had for his wife, brought him and Laura closer.

Their meeting also refuted what Laura’s friends had been telling her — that this dude was clearly lying about his wife’s feelings; that he had been the one to instigate opening the relationship; that his wife was “the long-suffering one, alone and insecure.” In Susan Dominus’ lengthy 2017 New York Times piece on CNM, only six of the 25 heterosexual couples she interviewed were opened up at the man’s suggestion, and, in general, the women were more sexually active outside the relationship. This is supported by a 2012 study of 4,062 poly-identifying individuals: 49.5 percent of respondents identified as female, and 35.4 percent identified as male (the remaining 15.1 percent either declined to choose or wrote in other genders).

The fact that more women appear to be both the instigators of and the more active participants in CNM is counter to traditional beliefs about gender divisions, an understanding that has itself been shaped by centuries of conditioning about the position of women as child-bearers and homemakers. Esther Perel’s work draws on studies that demonstrate that women are not, in fact, biologically conditioned for monogamy: They are much more likely than men to experience a loss of sexual desire in long-term relationships and are more aroused by novelty than men. And while the historical conception of polyamory tends to be that of a polygamous structure in which men are religiously or culturally empowered to take multiple wives (leading many to feel that poly relationships privilege men), many of the earliest proponents of contemporary non-monogamy (such as philosopher Bertrand Russell) believed CNM would destabilize traditional patriarchal relationships, which he believed were created to give men reproductive control over women.

Erica and her partner were monogamous for eight years before she began dating another woman. She had been clear with him since the beginning about her queer identity, and “it was always on the table that I might feel the need to explore that someday in the future.” His ability to accept that possibility, she says, was one of the reasons she felt comfortable choosing him as a partner.

“I tried very hard to accept the societal standard of ‘mating for life,’” she tells me, “and it caused me a lot of stress. Investigating the religious and biological background of the idea made me feel even more like it was not what I wanted. Unlearning the unfair ideals that society sets up for women and the ideas about love that are taught to us from birth is a huge challenge, one that I am constantly working towards.”

Their marriage has evolved since they embraced nonmonogamy. “I think we both feel a lot more independent and able to express our needs in respectful ways. It has become more important to see each other as individual people, rather than place expectations on each other as romantic partners,” she says. “He has other partners, romantic and sexual, and tends to have involved relationships with women that last a long time. I have found that I am more of a free spirit. This has allowed me to really strengthen some of the other types of relationships in my life and explore new ways to connect with people outside of the realm of what is considered dating. Our intent has always been to make strong personal connections and have more loving relationships with people. If sexual connections happen, great, but it’s not the main goal.”

And while they have been open with their friends and family about their relationship dynamic, they’ve faced skepticism. “My family’s reaction was somewhere along the lines of ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ though they made sure to let me know that this did not align with their religious beliefs,” she says. “Some of my husband’s male friends reacted with a sort of, ‘Hey, now you get to sleep with whoever you want!’ kind of attitude, which is really not what he wanted from this change at all.”

Erica and her husband are, for the time being, “platonic partners,” no longer sexually involved with each other. She’s unequivocal in her belief that an open marriage was the right decision. “It makes me very happy to see my partner grow as a person, be better able to express himself and to feel more confident. I feel like I have also grown and become happier, and learned a lot about myself. The duality of having your own independent self-worth, and also the ability and freedom to explore your own needs and desires in turn, gives you a sense of security that I think a lot of monogamous couples lack.”

So what’s so scary about that?

“I think it comes down largely to the science of human attachment,” says Dr. Sharon Glassburn. Romantic bonds — their inherent vulnerabilities and the intensity of emotion they involve — draw on primal feelings of safety and trust, and yet the structures society has created to shore those up (monogamy, marriage) are neither biologically- nor historically-informed. “Permanent monogamy” is unique to both our species and our cultural moment. Additionally, says Sharon, most people don’t make it through their 20s or 30s without encountering infidelity, either by experiencing it themselves or watching it destroy other relationships. “The idea of non-monogamy summons a very visceral and protective response, not to mention a PTSD response if prior infidelities were in the equation,” she says. “These protective or trauma responses put us in our ‘lizard brains’” and make imagining a relationship structure in which our partner doesn’t solely belong to us entirely difficult and frightening.

“Nearly everyone has feelings for other people,” says Sharon, “but an open or non-monogamous structure brings repressed or suppressed feelings up that some folks would rather compartmentalize.”

Erica agrees: “I think jealousy comes from fear and insecurity, and people would rather project that onto others than face what they are really afraid of.” In fact, studies have found that people in CNM relationships experience lower jealousy, higher trust and higher sexual satisfaction with their partners. Which is not to say that non-monogamy is for everyone, but rather that those who have found it right for them have found something very good indeed.

Interrogate each of the arguments against CNM (the high rates of infidelity and divorce in monogamous couples; the research demonstrating a wide-ranging social community leads to greater happiness and a longer life; the fact that a collective approach to child-rearing has historically been the primary model of family-building) and it begins to seem as if a fear-based moralizing is at the heart of why those committed to the current model of monogamy are so bewildered by or opposed to poly relationships. But if “love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love” — why not be greedy for more of it? After all, no one can reasonably argue that having more than one friend diminishes the love you’re capable of giving each. Why can’t the same be applied to relationships?

The truth is, partnership is tenuous, and the current prevailing model was constructed only after thousands of years of different examples, most completely unrelated to a modern understanding of Western marriage, and which for a long time excluded interracial and queer couples. My in-laws, together over 45 years, were brought together by their families in an arranged marriage, and their version of partnership, love and happiness is very different than my own. They have raised two children and still hold hands when walking over uneven terrain; who’s to say their love is less than mine or yours? Who’s to say that any love isn’t worthy of awe?

When my now-husband and I were in our early days, I told him I’d been cheated on in the past and that infidelity was, for me, a deal-breaker. While I have no desire to bring non-monogamy into our marriage as it is now (after 5+ years of online dating, I want only one man, one contractually obligated to listen to my weird dreams), I want, above all else, a marriage that thrives on honesty. And to me, being honest requires acknowledging the very real possibility that at some point in our (hopefully long) life together, one of us will want something that the other person can’t give. When that happens, I told him, I want there to be a window, not a door: a space through which we can look, together, at another shape our relationship could assume. Accepting that possibility means being excited about, and not threatened by, the mutability of love, its expansiveness and strength.

Illustrations by Cynthia Merhej.

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Crawfish emancipation for Mobile? State Rep. Margie Wilcox cooking

New Post has been published on https://universeinform.com/2017/03/24/crawfish-emancipation-for-mobile-state-rep-margie-wilcox-cooking/

Crawfish emancipation for Mobile? State Rep. Margie Wilcox cooking

Is nation legislation the solution to Cell’s crawfish conundrum? country Rep. Margie Wilcox thinks so and is making plans to put up payments that could exempt sidewalk crawfish boils – and in all likelihood different conventional occasions – from fitness department oversight.

The cell has a free crawfish way of life under which a few bars have provided loose, freshly cooked crawfish to consumers in the course of the spring months. In 2016 and once more in 2017, the Cell County fitness department asserted that those occasions run contrary to fitness guidelines. Partial compromise in 2016 and similarly negotiation in 2017 have left many former participants either satisfied that they can not hold the boils anymore, or so harassed approximately the legalities that they’re afraid to proceed.

Wilcox has these days found out that she’s cooking up a few nation regulation that she hopes will smash the impasse. Currently, the payments exist “in draft form,” so the final variations she’ll present in April aren’t yet available. As advertised in well-known phrases, the concept is described this way: “Regarding Elegance 2 municipalities; to prohibit the country branch of Public fitness from regulating or requiring a permit for intermittent food provider institutions that in any other case do no longer put together, sell, or distribute meals in its everyday line of business whilst that meals carrier status quo prepares or distributes food in affiliation with a regional celebratory occasion or custom.”

Wilcox said she’s planning to publish one model that might follow most effective to Mobile County, and another that could observe statewide. She stated she knows the Mobile County fitness department’s function that it’s only looking to practice current kingdom law to the state of affairs, and stated she’s spoken with Cell County fitness Officer Dr. Bernard Eichold approximately his worries associated with the problem.

He was cute to talk to,” she stated.

Food protection is a real public challenge, Wilcox stated, even though crawfish boils haven’t been a supply of hassle. “We might want to put up a ‘buyer pay attention’ sign, that this is a gaggle of bartenders cooking meals,” she stated.

Emancipation Insults Womanhood

For, in lots of approaches lady is superior to a person. Emancipation, then again, lowers her reputation and makes it at component with a man. Emancipation has a “man” as its preferred. It’s miles a dirty phrase, for it does no longer don’t forget the potentials of a woman. girl’s well known and standing, each isn’t identified. She is made, as a substitute compelled to struggle to meet man’s preferred. The query is: What for? Why ought to a female warfare to satisfy such general? Doesn’t she have her own standard?

From a nonsecular point of view, “Men and women are Identical”. There the question of emancipation does not stand up. At that point, for that matter, requirements and standing are of no relevance too. They’re in reality irrelevant.emancipation from parents

Right here, we aren’t discussing spirit. Spirit is past all discussions and arguments. It has nothing to do with agreements and disagreements. It is. And, It’s miles Entire in Itself. No debate there, no not anything.

Right here, we are discussing depend on,

Which once more is nothing bu the spirit in its gross form. That grossness is what we are discussing Right here. Of their subtle bureaucracy, In their souls, women and men are nonetheless Same. They’re not distinct. but, Of their gross bureaucracy, They’re sincerely specific. It is the grossness that makes the distinction. And so, we should appearance sharply into this grossness.

I say, in many approaches girl is advanced to a man. In different words, I am also trying to mention that during sure areas guy is superior to the lady. There is areas wherein female is superior, and there are regions where man is advanced. Every is precise. Each has a few special qualities. That makes them like minded to Each-different. That makes woman and guy complement Every different.

So, initially allow us to drop this debate about superiority and inferiority.

Neither woman is inferior to the guy, neither is the guy not so good as a woman. each is equally superiors – In their personal approaches, and their own regions.

however, due to the fact, I am writing approximately female, so in this newsletter, I shall confine myself to the superiority of female and speak guy only when necessary.

For that, we have to come back to the problem of “grossness” and the way does it make woman superior to man in lots of methods….. let us check her mind first:

1. It is scientifical, to be extra particular, biologically verified now that the Pre-Frontal part of female’s brain is greater than man’s. In a girl, it also receives matured in advance than in guy. Curiously this component is related to one’s potential to workout

You can like to refer to the scriptures, Vedic

Taoist, Buddhist, Jain, Christian, and Islam, whatever – they all agree on being “The very best Virtue”. It’s far consequently unlucky and misconceived in addition to misperceived whilst one feels the same scriptures to show female’s inferiority and places her under guy’s sub ordinance. Such presumption would falsify the sooner commonplace and well-known announcement determined in all scriptures.

Mobile Apps Development – Changing the Business Scenario

Advertising and enterprise improvement aren’t what they were once in the earlier days. Mobile Utility improvement as an idea has absolutely transformed business scenarios and developments. These modifications were observed maximum prominently in the manner brands boom their visibility within the market and how organizations make themselves on hand to clients. Allow us to consider the numerous approaches wherein Mobile Utility improvement has improved and contributed to the enterprise world, generating diverse integral blessings for employee owners.boaters missing mobile

Fee discount

Advertising and marketing and commercial enterprise visibility consume up to a primary part of the price range – a fact that constantly stems fear for commercial enterprise proprietors throughout industries and sectors. By way of getting a Cell Application advanced to sell a brand and reach out to customers, Marketing fees can be significantly introduced down even as growing visibility exponentially. An enterprise would not need to invest in SMSs, printed media, the media, etc for Advertising. This translates into savings.

Patron pride

With a development of Cellular programs, the want for clients having to attend to acquire offerings is eliminated. This facilitates to create patron loyalty and attracts extra target audience via tremendous feedback. Mobile Apps solid an instantaneous effect on sales and Purchaser retention Via at once enriching their enjoy. Many corporations are actually selecting to provide precedence provider to clients who select to apply their Mobile app to get in contact with them. This will be a notable concept to growth purchaser retention quotes and offer higher nice services and interest to customers.

Useful resource optimization

The usage of Cellular apps will assist streamline the all-vital feature of customer support, providing new and advanced means for organizations is to talk with customers. This truth on my own will bring about augmenting productiveness and getting expanded successes in Purchaser dating control. programs assist organizations in saving expenses and producing revenue at the same time. With this shift within the cash go with the flow of an employer, it will become possible to optimize and reallocate present assets and gain performance in all spheres of operation.

Research suggest that the time spent By means of humans within the US on Cell Virtual Media is appreciably better (51%) in comparison to their usage of computers and laptops (forty-two%) for accessing statistics. In fact, four out of every five consumers use smartphones or tablets for purchasing. This tipping of scales has brought about almost all forms of agencies to shift toward this Digital platform for branding and Customer outreach.

Cell Utility development has simply changed the manner the business global moves and coordinate with the converting scenarios, firms are actually accepting it as a powerful device to reinforce growth.

Factors Affecting Microwave Recipes Cooking

Factors WHICH Affect COOKING

Numerous Factors which impact timing and outcomes in traditional cooking are exaggerated by means of microwave pace…

From traditional cooking, you’re acquainted with the concept that more meals take more time.

Two cups of water take longer to boil than one.

The length of meals is critical, too.

Split potatoes prepare dinner quicker than complete ones.

These differences are greater apparent in microwaving, in view that power penetrates and turns to warmness directly in the food.

Understanding what affects the velocity and evenness of cooking will help you enjoy all the benefits of microwaving.

Piece Length: In both conventional and microwave cook dinner-ing, small portions cook dinner quicker than huge ones. pieces that are similar in Length and form cook greater flippantly.

Beginning Temperature: Ingredients taken from the refrigerator take longer to cook dinner than Meals at room temperature. Timings in our recipes are based on the temperatures at which you generally save the Ingredients.

Density of food: In each traditional and microwave cooking, dense Meals, such as a potato, take longer to cook or warmth than light, porous Ingredients, such as a chunk of cake, bread or a roll.cooking channel

Quantity of food: In both kinds of cooking, small quantities normally take much less time than massive ones. This is maximum obvious in microwave cooking, where time is di-rectly associated with the wide variety of servings. shape of food: In each styles of cooking, thin areas cook quicker than thick ones. This will be controlled in micro-waving via placing thick pieces to the outdoor edge with thin pieces to the middle.

Height in Oven: In each styles of cooking, regions which can be closest to the supply of heat or power cook quicker. For even microwaving, turn over or guard vulnerable Meals that are better than 5 inches.

Boiling: Microwaves exaggerate boiling in milk-primarily based Meals.

A temperature probe turns off the oven earlier than Meals boil over. Use a lower strength placing and watch carefully whilst now not using a probe. Prick Ingredients to Release Pressure: Steam builds up Pressure in Foods which might be tightly blanketed by a skin or membrane. Prick potatoes (as you do conventionally), egg yolks and fowl livers to save you bursting.

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