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plus-size-reader · 3 years

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Personal

Peter Hayes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1846 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader learns that she is in Peter’s fear landscape

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You didn’t know much about the other initiates' fear landscapes until today, when you were going to be going through your final simulations in front of everyone else.

It was designed that way.

Sharing your deepest fears was far from anything done at Dauntless, mostly because it was much too personal, but this was the one exception. This was how you got into Dauntless, how you proved yourself, and you were willing to do whatever it took.

Even if you might not have chosen to share with them had you given a choice. You were pretty reserved to begin with, doing your best to just get through this without drawing too much attention to yourself.

You wanted to be Dauntless, but that didn’t mean you wanted everyone in the compound to know everything about you. Thankfully though, of all the fear landscapes that had been displayed today, yours was far from the most memorable.

At least, for you.

The ceremony was over now, and you were pretty confident that you had done well. The process was a relatively simple one, as uncomfortable as it could be, and it was over before you had really processed what was going on.

You were lucky.

Most of your fears were standard, shared with others in your troupe, but even the ones that weren’t super common didn’t raise any red flags.

For you, the most shocking thing of all was getting to see everyone else’s fears and the things that they hated more than anything else. You didn’t get really personal with any of them in all your time here, so it was interesting to see.

There was just something about seeing someone actively interacting with their greatest fears that told you more about them than any words ever could. In that moment, all they were thinking about was getting out, and that made them impulsive.

It was real.

There was no need to save face in a do or die situation like that.

Though, that didn’t exactly answer all the questions you had that words may have helped to clarify. After all, less than an hour ago, Peter was hooked up to that monitor, the screen showing his deepest, darkest fears without fail.

To start, it seemed like his landscape was going to be just like everyone else’s, which you had to admit you were a little disappointed by. For whatever reason, you had a special interest in Peter’s landscape, because for the life of you, you just couldn’t figure him out.

From one moment to the next, talking to him could be like talking to two different people. He was guarded and hard to read, but having come from Candor, that only reminded you of home.

His standoffish and rude personality didn’t put you off in the least, because when you stopped to think about it, that was just how people acted where you came from. It was normal for you, just like it was normal for him.

However, you never would have thought Peter cared for you at all. As much as you enjoyed his refreshing company and attitude, you doubted he gave your existence much thought at all, he certainly didn’t act like he did.

As best you could tell, he found you just as inconsequential as everyone else here, like it didn’t matter if you stayed or not.

Though, you did have to rethink that as soon as you heard a familiar voice on the screen in front of you. Just thinking about it, you felt a familiar flip in your stomach from that moment, when you looked up to see yourself there.

Initially, you assumed that you must have been mistaken, that it wasn’t you in his landscape at all, but there was really no way to deny it.

The girl there was you, laying on the concrete floor of the pit, clearly bleeding from some kind of wound though you weren’t exactly sure what had happened. All you knew was that something had happened and you were hurt, bad.

...And Peter was panicking.

Even when he was sitting, in the center of the room, you could tell that he was in some kind of distress. He was practically dripping sweat, the muscles in his jaw tense as he took a second to survey the sight in front of him.

It was clear that he’d been here before.

You weren’t sure when something like this would have become part of his fear landscape but the way he dealt with it made it obvious he knew what he needed to do. You weren’t doing well, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

He had to let you go.

The landscape had closed out with Peter turning his back and leaving the room, where presumably, you would die. In all honesty, it was hard to watch in the moment but now that it had passed, you were confused.

Peter had never even given the impression that he enjoyed your company, led alone the fact that he actively worried about something happening to you. It didn’t make any sense, but you couldn’t exactly go get answered.

You weren’t sure how he would react.

It wasn’t like you could just walk up to him and demand answers for what he’d done there, could you? That was something a Candor would do, sure, but you weren’t Candor anymore. This wasn’t as cut and dry as it would have been before.

He didn’t owe you an explanation, you knew that, but the more you sat here, the more your head was spinning, coming up with all these outlandish explanations for what you were doing there.

Maybe it was a mistake? Maybe it just happened to be you but had never been before? Maybe it wasn’t you at all.

You liked to think that you would recognize yourself if you saw your face on a screen, but in that moment, you were still rattled from your own freak landscape so it could have just been a misunderstanding.

Couldn’t it?

Choosing to believe that would have brought you the most comfort, but the actions of the other initiates told you that wasn’t an option. They had been staring at you since this morning, talking in hushed whispers about it.

You knew they had to be.

Besides, even if you hadn’t been so perceptive to the truth, Molly had all but told you that was the case when you passed her.

Eventually, you decided that the only choice you had was to get answers from him. You couldn’t just let everyone else talk about you without even knowing what was going on yourself. If nothing else, you could find out what Peter was thinking.

At the very least, you would be able to put any rumors to rest and move on.

He had to have something to say for himself.

You weren’t entirely sure how you were going to lead up to this conversation with Peter, but the nuances didn’t matter all that much . Worst case, he would tell you that what had happened was none of your business and you would know where you stood.

The last thing on your mind was hurting his feelings or offending him, which was why as soon as you sat down beside him in the dormitory space, you didn’t bother explaining yourself.

Instead, you sat down right next to him on his cot, “What was that all about this morning? Why was I in your fear landscape?” you questioned, not bothering to soften the rough tone in your voice as you waited for him to speak.

It was bleak, sure, and not polished in the least but that was one of the things you enjoyed most about knowing Peter came from Candor as well. You didn’t have to worry about refining your approach like you did now that you were in Dauntless.

He was used to that way of speaking.

Still, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to have to have this conversation. After all, he had been doing well enough at keeping his feelings for you under wraps, but that whole thing at the ceremony was going to make that a little harder.

How was he supposed to deny it? Obviously he cared for you enough that the threat of something happening to you had become something he actively feared.

That didn’t really happen with people you just knew.

“I don’t know. You think I have any control over what happens in those?” he shrugged, hoping that he could keep up the plausible deniability thing for long enough that you would just get up and go back to whatever it was you were doing.

It was harsh, much more aggressive than he meant for it to come out, but similarly to how he paid your mannerisms no mind, you didn’t even blink an eye.

“Come on Peter, I know you know better than that” you hummed, taunting him a little now that you were here. Clearly, he was going to try and make you feel like you had no right to be here but that was very wrong.

You knew as well as he did that he had full control over the things he cared about and the things that worried him. Somehow, you had made it on to that list, you knew that for sure, all you were asking him was how or why?

He knew why you were there, he just didn’t want to tell you.

“What does it matter? You saw how it ended for you, it’s far from romantic” he grumbled, turning to look at you with an almost incriminating look in his eyes.

He was doing his best to figure out how he could get out of this without going too far, but it didn’t seem to be going that way.

Trying to keep it up wasn’t getting him anywhere.

The idea that it should have been romantic was funny to you, considering the fact that it was a fear landscape in the first place, but you got what he was talking about. It wasn’t like you could draw any connections based on what happened.

However, you knew that the fact it was you in that scene meant something. It could have been anyone dying on the floor, but it wasn’t, it was you.

“Admitting you have a crush on me isn’t going to kill you” you prompted finally, taking a stab in the dark after all the beating around the bush he was doing. You didn’t want to say anything about him, not directly, but you knew the truth.

He felt the same way for you as you did for him.

“Maybe not, but I would have liked to do it in a way that didn’t involve you bleeding out” he shrugged, a small smile creeping on to his lips.

This wasn’t how Peter saw this whole thing happening between you but he figured that it was better late than never. At least now, you knew just how desperate he was to always have you by his side.

#peter hayes #dauntless #divergent #the divergent series #peter hayes x reader #peter hayes x ps reader #peter hayes x plus size reader #peter hayes imagine #dauntless x reader #dauntless x ps reader #dauntless x plus size reader #dauntless imagine #divergent x reader #divergent x ps reader #divergent x plus size reader #divergent imagine

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chroma-ki · 4 years

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What Happens When Society Fails Those Who Could Succeed - A Bakugo Katsuki Analysis

I started this a while ago, but I’ve seen others delve into this topic and I wanted to share as well. This delves into to hero society’s affects on Bakugo Katsuki’s upbringing, his worldview, his self-view, and Izuku’s involvement in breaking down the ideas society has drilled into his head.

A lot of people like to ignore the fact that Katsuki is a 14-year-old kid at the start of the series and that much of his life, attitude and disposition of the world have been completely shaped by the adults and society around him.

What do you expect a kid with potential to turn into when they are warped in such a way by a society that dictates that they need to be strong, or nothing at all? What about when your only value is based around a sliding scale of strength and weakness? What happens when that kid’s only source of help comes in the form of a reckless, selfless child who defies all sense of logic and reason (Izuku)?

Growing up, Bakugo was constantly praised for being strong, having a powerful quirk and being generally the smartest person in the room at any given time. He could arguably be considered a prodigy, and much of what he sees and learns feels beneath him -- because it's already on his mind. He is a kid with natural god-given talent that everyone around him immediately recognizes as above average.

Even as a toddler, he was constantly a step ahead of everyone else. Due to this, people developed a lot of high expectations for him at a young age -- and it doesn't help that he has a naturally competitive streak that makes him constantly want to prove himself and live up to these expectations; even surpass them.

Always being at the top of his class and being ahead of the curve mentally fuel the idea in Katsuki's mind that, in the game of life, he is 'winning'. Yet, at the same time, none of it is ever enough. Other's high expectations of him cause him to build extremely high expectations of himself; expectations that border on unrealistic. They also inflate his ego exponentially when this praise gets reaffirmed time and time again.

Certainly, in a situation where you're raised on other people's praise and validation, it is completely understandable that you would put a lot of emotional emphasis on other people's opinions of you. On top of that, he gives off such a natural and convincing air of confidence that people can't help but feel that he is reliable, despite his attitude. People are awed by him, and all of it feeds into the mental image he has constructed of himself, and the world as a whole. It's the whole reason for a lot of how he acts. He builds an image of himself based on the praise of those around him -- and even Izuku also feeds into this mentality by worshipping the literal ground Katsuki walks on as a kid.

This mentality seems to be working fine for him until Izuku's very presence starts to throw a wrench into everything Katsuki has been raised to believe.

Izuku completely defies logic to Katsuki. Izuku does not fit the societal norm and, beyond what others have taught him, Izuku is Katsuki’s only real hint that the world might not be quite what he thinks it is, and that his idea of what it means to be strong may not be a ‘one-size fits all’ defenition.

Izuku is a quirkless kid; weak and generally mild-mannered. He doesn't have any self-confidence and is a big crybaby. Yet, Izuku still believes that he can be strong and become a hero -- when Katsuki has always been told the opposite. Katsuki recognizes that this may be some version of strength he is unaware of, and it raises BIG RED FLAGS in his mind.

Where many of Katsuki's other childhood friends were barely more than acquaintances who he forgot over time, Izuku immediately caught Katsuki's interest and spiked his curiosity. Like everyone else in his life, Izuku praised Katsuki and told him all the things he wanted to hear -- but Izuku was also unique and intelligent. Izuku was the first person who actually seemed like they could stand near Katsuki's level; like they might be actual competition.

Then, Bakugo got his quirk and Izuku is diagnosed as quirkless. The reactions of everyone around him to this news, including Izuku’s own reaction, only go back to telling him what society has told him all along. Strength is everything, and quirks are a part of that desired strength. This is another moment that reaffirms Katsuki's world view. "I won, you lose. I really am the best."

Though Bakugo is super aggressive on the outside, he is a very self-critical character and often means the opposite of whatever he is saying. Especially when it comes to his self-confidence and bravado.

People often complain when watching the series about him telling people to 'die' and "got to hell", or calling other people "extras", and I don't think enough people understand -- that is just how he speaks. Those are things he says out of reflexive anger. None of those words ever have any real meaning.

It's more important to pay more attention to the moments in which he is more reserved/quiet. He suffers from both a superiority complex and inferiority complex, as well as paranoia (much of which revolves around his warped idea of how Deku, and other people he values, perceive him). Much of what he says is just empty words or him trying to project an image of self-confidence.

He wears his pride like a suit of armor to hide all the things he doesn't want to admit about himself. He attempts to make up for his own insecurities by getting angry. And he learned this at home from his mother, who is much the same as him.

From the little that we have seen of his parents throughout the series so far, his parents love him and provide him with everything he could possibly need -- but his mother often insults him and throws harsh truths in his face to counteract his cocky nature. One of the most notable instances of this is when All Might and Aizawa are talking to his parents about moving the kids to the dorms and his mom says "If you hadn't have gotten yourself caught by the villains in the first place, none of this would have happened".

That comment feeds directly into his mental breakdown in front of Izuku where he blames himself for All Might's downfall, flat out saying that "If I hadn't been kidnapped by villains, then it never would have happened".

It gets me every time if you go back to the 8th episode of the series, near the VERY BEGINNING -- right after he's defeated by Deku for the first time in combat training -- and the episode literally starts with him having a full on panic attack.

He's trembling, hands shaking, hyperventilating, the whole deal. And that particular incident was triggered not only by Deku defeating him and standing up to him (which completely contradicts the Izuku that Bakugo has grown up with all his life and feeds into Bakugo's own fear that he is weak), but is also brought on by the fact that he notices how severely Deku allowed himself to be injured JUST TO WIN THE EXCERSIZE. Again, this idea that even the weak can be strong. It also doesn’t help that he cares about Izuku and doesn’t want to see him get hurt.

And I'm sorry -- but below does not look like the face of someone who's pissed off to me. He looks PETRIFIED.

Izuku doesn't just piss Bakugo off -- Izuku TERRIFIES him.

There are actually multiple instances of him reacting like this to Izuku injuring himself throughout the series: sludge villain, sports festival fight against Todoroki and the training camp where Bakugo was kidnapped being the major ones I can think of beyond current managa events. Bakugo may claim to ‘hate’ Deku, but he DOES NOT like to see Deku hurt himself to win, or to save.

Bakugo saw this 'self-sacrificing' trait in Izuku even as a young kid, and it freaked him out. It made him feel weak. It made him question himself and the world around him.

This fear starts with the incident where Bakugo fell off the log as a kid.

It wasn't a life threatening situation, but it was the first situation where Izuku rushed to Bakugo's aid with complete disregard to himself AND when everyone else refused to help.

Bakugo's friends, teachers and parents all held him to such high expectations of intelligence, power and strength -- so of course those would be the values that he grows up idolizing. No one ever really offered him help, because they assumed he didn't need it -- and then Izuku comes rushing in offering it to him, risking his life to do so, and Katsuki's only thought is "Why?! Why do you feel like you have to save me when you can't even protect yourself? Needing to be saved means that I'm weak! Do you think that I'm weak?" I have recently watched another show that had a similar scenario and that character explained what I believe Katsuki felt in this situation BEAUTIFULLY. ------ “It felt like [he] was trying to say I was weak or something. [He] was intruding on feelings [he] didn’t have any right to – and I hated it. Then that got me thinking about everyone else in my life. They never treated me like I was a weakling; someone who needed his hand held. They had faith that I would continue to grow and they let me do it; helping me without ever making me feel weak.”

Izuku continues to do this again and again throughout the series when it comes to Bakugo: the slime villain incident, the training camp, etc -- all without fully comprehending how his actions affect Bakugo. Each time this happens, Bakugo feels weak and utterly helpless to save himself OR to stop Izuku. It's all his worst fears realized.

It's like living his worst nightmare over and over without end in sight.

Going back to the concept of him being offered 'help', very few people have offered him this throughout his life -- and they all saw it as something he never really needed. It's like Katsuki's personality and mental state is a huge sign screaming 'I DON'T UNDERSTAND! NOTHING MAKES SENSE! IT MAKES ME MAD AND UPSET! SOMEONE, HELP ME.' and everyone just ignores it.

--- During the log incident - all his friends say 'Oh well, he's fine. He'll pick himself back up.' and Izuku is the only one who offers to help.

--- The sludge villain incident - all the pro heroes say "We can't help right now! You'll just have to hold on, kid!" and again Izuku is the only one who offers help.

--- After his and Deku’s first fight at Ground Beta, which utterly breaks him, all the other students just let him leave alone and only Izuku rushes to help. All Might sees him upset and crying after this and says, “Oh, I guess he’s already over it” -- when that obviously wasn’t the case.

--- And then -- to top it all off -- after he was kidnapped by the LOV and held captive for 3 days without help he wasn't even given time to process! He was taken away by police, ridiculed by his mother, forced to go back to school where his teachers acted like nothing happened, jumped into the provisional hero licensing exam with all those helpless feelings rolling around inside of him and on top of it found out that Izuku received All Might's power -- a power that he had spent his whole life putting on a pedestal. And he goes to Izuku for help.

The fact that everyone just brushed him off like he was someone who didn't need help is just disgusting. The only instance where an adult in his life acknowledged that he needed it was AFTER he already had a full on mental breakdown in front of Izuku, blaming himself for everything that had gone wrong and thinking that he had somehow been living his life wrong all this time. Only then did All Might and Aizawa think, ‘Yeah, maybe we failed this kid.’

Keep in mind during all of this that he is 15-16-years-old! He's trying to figure out how to deal with this shit all on his own, with the only person he feels comfortable opening up to being Izuku - someone who he has so much trouble understanding.

At the heart of Katsuki is a place of fear. Fear of being weak, fear of being helpless, fear of failure, fear of losing his friends, fear of himself, most certainly fear of Izuku -- and fear FOR IZUKU. He is a boy who lives in a constant state of panic, worry and paranoia. He is lonely and beats down on himself a lot.

The series deals a lot with how hero society has completely failed it's future generations, but Katsuki is a case where they should have succeeded -- yet ultimately they failed him too. He has all the makings of what could be one of the greatest heroes of all time, yet those around him only focused on the parts of him that could make him great and chose to ignore all the parts that would ruin him from the inside out.

They put him high up on a pedestal only to knock him down and refuse to help him back up. They made him feel like even asking for help was something that made him 'lesser', and it caused him to see other people that way too.

Izuku is the heart of Katsuki's growth, because in every way that Izuku succeeds, Katsuki fails.

I would actually argue that out of anyone in the series since coming to UA, Katsuki has experienced the highest amount of personal failure. He has been knocked down time and time again but ultimately wants to pick himself back up to prove that he deserves to be there. He fights for his friends and tries his best at everything he does. He doesn't always get it right, and he says things that might offend others, but other than Izuku, he's the most driven person there and would utterly destroy himself to reach his goals.

#bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #mha #my hero academia #meta analysis #kacchan #deku #bakudeku #katsudeku #bkdk

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rametarin · 3 years

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We deal with this, “fiction is reality” shit EVERY. GENERATION.

And I mean it comes back among authoritarians playing to sheep EVERY fucking generation on different pretenses.

It always boils down to a bunch of people that are insecure about the effects of culture and media on other people, and as a flimsy pretense/pretext to restrict access to things to other people “in society” for their own safety and sense of security.

And when it comes to, “obscene literature” or illustrations, the source is always jealousy, insecurity and an attempt to reduce other people down to a demographic statistic. Whether it’s reducing black people to a caricature and acting like hip-hop just turns the kids into violent, drug abusing, psychotic felons, or imagining pornography is what turns people into horny fucking do-nothings, it’s always about control.

And we’ve put it off for so long. We’ve put off the conversation about just what demographic these people play to in order to get traction and followers and staying power and warm bodies for their movements. They’re the demographic that makes antis- work, the demographic that screams for censorship because illustrations “hurt them personally,” or “cause men to hurt them.”

I’m talking about women. Particularly, cis women, as trans women are not in numbers enough to affect anything, and it is EXPLICITLY IMPORTANT that the source of the offense and complaint come from the population that are the gateway through which the next generation is born and brought up.

Individual men may be so clueless as to assume the way degeneration works is a person is left improperly or negligently nurtured, and so just make bad decisions because, “they were never taught better.” They embrace the idea that people only do bad shit because, “the society,” isn’t paying attention, or that individual people are just blank slates beholden to the righteousness and morality of the cultural hivemind of said society. That Society is an objective effect, and if bad people exist, it’s proof to them that there’s something wrong with said society.

But individual men know that the bad actions of other men are not caused solely by “male culture,” or the absence of it, or shitty “role models.” They see the shitty natural inborn attitudes of other men, and despite being raised in shitty conditions, naturally develop a good head on their shoulders, and despise actions like that. As men you can’t HELP but grow up watching boys around you make shitty decisions based on shitty impulse control and, no matter how often they’re punished, how much they’re loved, how much they’re compassionately talked to, STILL act the fool and wind up as terrible, stealing, violent adults. As men you can’t do anything BUT reconcile that some people are just fucking shitheads, and the idea as a man YOU should be punished or treated like the “association” of men itself is at fault, smacks of sexism. The same sort of sexism women’s lib supposedly is against- at least, when it happens to women.

Women, however, are not men, are not privy to the thoughts and feelings of men. Men are abstracts to these women, many of whom are so solipsistic or gynocentrist that they just see men as a class of monsters in a videogame. Just a pattern of individuals that surely must all get their code and culture from “society.” Clearly, when there’s bad men about, it’s proof this “society” isn’t doing everything it can to mollify and gentrify those horrible beastly men to make them safe and not dangerous and productive.

These women that see men like living aggregates for society, imagine that in order to “keep men working properly,” they need to not have “bad moral influences,” treating pornography and access to drugs and literature like a cleaning lady treats dirt on linen. They imagine that the only reason rape or murder or theft by men occurs is because “there’s a problem with men, thinking that is okay.” Like the only reason your average man isn’t running around violently raping people or killing them is because they sang enough hymns at church- by force. Or because they were prevented from, “getting deranged by wrongthink.”

So with this in mind, how do they imagine porn affects men, male minds, and this big abstract-turned-monolithic-concept called, “society?”

Well, they imagine fiction is reality. That if “people of lesser intellect” read a thing, then they’ll inherently believe it, because, “it presents itself as factual and reality.” When.. no. That’s not how it works. They believe, absolutely, that without some mechanism there to go, “BUT WE’RE JUST PRETENDING THO, IT’S NOT REAL!” that will inherently make people, whom all have tenuous and toddler-like grasps of reality and object permanence, think a thing in fiction is real and applies to reality.

And naturally, they see men as people of lesser intellect. So they reason, those dangerous statistical anomalies are just men that haven’t been browbeaten, and whom are subject to any given negative influence or writing or opinion or culture that preaches values and ideas incongruent with their preferences, as women. Therefore, they conclude, fiction that does not preach their “good values” is in fact advocating bad ones, bad habits, bad moral character, bad mental health- call it whatever you want based on your generation. It’s ALL THE SAME SHIT. All the same knee-jerk moralism based on justifying societal and institutional use of force to restrict and arbitrate and judiciously enforce and justify dictating censorship and good-think. It’s just a question of where that basis comes from.

And theres’ ultimately no reasoning with that culture of women when they grasp hold of a thing that appeals to them, flatters and justifies their prejudices and biases. You can sit there colorfully or dryly explaining the ways in which this shitty point of view is wrong, much as you can try to walk back a persons beliefs in their homophobia that they base on religious purism or use the purism to validate their homophobia, but you cannot just get them individually to give up those nice, comfortable beliefs.

And when grouped together for mutual support and validation, it becomes this negative-thought, field of fucking SHEEP braying “Nuuuh-uuuh!” and arguing for restriction of content and sanitation and disbarrment from certain subject matter to be in consumable porn or literature or even just art. The only thing keeping them in check being the consequences for vandalism, and the ability for a community or institution to police out the bias usurpers that would seek to enter their foundations and run them on behalf of the values of these easily upset, insecure sheep.

every FUCKING generation, it manifests in some manner. Be they from church ladies, to radical feminists, to intersectional feminists. If you capture the imaginations, insecurities, jealousies, foster and sanction them, interpret them, get young women believing them, participating in the romance that tells them the way to change the bad things or take the edge off the bad men is to foster and enable authoritarianism (be it regional social, regional institutional, or federal institutional) then you have this neverending avalanche of unending support for it. Be it from dictators, or just from pure ideology from a doctrine. They’ll do it. And stubbornly and obstinately believe in whatever compliments their biases, to the contradiction of everything.

And while you can remove a man and his influences on the next gen from the home, from the social radius of the next generation to be a significant source of culture and how they relate to young people, removing women from the equation, from whom the next generation comes from, is virtually impossible. So a male zealot, already susceptible to scrutiny and punishment for being so wild and zealous with their beliefs, can be retaliated against, muted, beaten and removed from relevance until they censor themselves or change their tune.

But you cannot do that to a female human, or women/mothers as a sex, without both women AND men taking it as an attack on humanity at their most prime and kernel. It has to be done with disproportionate authoritarian state power that does not fear mass dissent and violent retaliation, or it isn’t done at all.

So these zealous Karens that embrace wholly these ideas enabling authoritarianism under a banner they approve of, are allowed to propagate unchallenged, and even if challenged, cannot be subdued or subverted. Their own little cliques and echo chambers and lack of desire to even consider their positions are wrong. Any attempt to point the fingers at this very real, disproportionate and characteristic, objective power female humans have just on the basis of their sex and how that relates among them socially, can and will be trash binned arbitrarily as, “sexism.” Despite the fact, it’s absolutely true.

So long as women that believe “society” is an objective, monolithic thing from which, “that other sex” and other women get their marching orders on how to BE what they are, and don’t see them as billions of individuals with their own ambitions, instincts, inborn personality and character flaws, independent of “society’s failures,” believing those people can be saved or corrected IF ONLY WE CENSOR EVERYTHING or make all media “good thing,” we’re just going to have people with illiberal beliefs asserting their dominance and insisting it’s for the soul of the species, society and the planet.

I mean yeah there are male antis and shit, but honestly. Tell me honestly. How many fucking deranged fandom people that are doing shit like mailing cookies with sewing needles backed into them are male gendered or male sexed, either? As uncomfortable as it may be to acknowledge or consider this might have a sexual grounding, I’m sorry. Not acknowledging it is simply rejecting reality.

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littleeyesofpallas · 4 years

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Okay so maybe making a big long post just as a lead up to this was too dramatic and I’ve hyped myself up for nothing, but here we go...

I think the Hollows are actually a natural reincarnation process that the Shinigami disrupt by slaying Hollows.

That has a lot of implications that I’m trying hard not to try(and fail) to wrestle all at once.... But at the broadest level of context: Kubo pretty frequently references Buddhist myth and cosmology, in particular some of the Naraka, which are a little more specific than generically deity figures like Enma or Guanyin, showing that he is specifically familiar with the Buddhist penance cycle of reincarnation where bad karma is basically worked off by living and dying lifetimes in different rings of afterlife, being reborn more pure each time, until becoming human again.

Note that it’s the souls of evil humans, even after they’ve become Hollows, that specifically go to hell. That’s why Zanpakutou only “purify” Hollows, and not actually kill them, because the Hollow’s aren’t actually innately bad people. And we do briefly touch back on this with Zommari’s dying rant.

And of the characters that we can infer are/were introduced as Vastlord, they do all share a kind of innocence: Ulquiorra is clearly the model of the silhouette of the Vastlord in exposition when explaining the 3 Menos Grande levels, and his overall character arc shows him as being the most sympathetic of the Espada. We see Wonderweiss’ creation and his humanoid size and shape as a Hollow, we see his distinctly childlike (if eerily so) demeanor, and Tousen calls him “Pure.” Nel appears as distinctly childlike, with unusual status outside the ranks of Aizen’s army, and is foreshadowed to be much more powerful that she appears (and the twist we do get for that wasn’t remotely satisfying, but I’ll get to that later...).

I think as the Menos Grande change forms as they eat more human souls and other Hollows, they become not just more humanoid in shape, but more human-like in moral quality as well. The Vastlord have never threatened Soul Society or even the human world before, despite their immense power level, because they have no intention to; and they are difficult to find because they are actively avoiding conflict and hiding because they don’t want to fight. This particular attitude is reflected in Nelliel, Ulquiorra, and Starrk, where they all have a kind of default position of non-violence, and even when they do fight they do so with minimal investment or enjoyment.

And Zommari’s dying protests about the Shingami, and his praise of Aizen in relation to it, as well as Aissingler’s dying words about Hollows being born from fear and drawn to Aizen for his defiance of the fear of death further lend to the idea that Hollows, as ghosts of the dead consumed by the negative emotions surrounding their own deaths, ultimately just want to be alive again.

Under these terms, Nel, Ulquiorra, and Wonderweiss I think were all meant to be Vastolords when they were introduced —the intent behind Starrk is harder to place because of how early yet little he appeared before any real information was given to us— and all share the trait of being essentially “good,” albeit dangerously powerful, people.

I think the original plan with Nel (if there even was real “plan” at all) wasn’t actually for her to be a “former Espada” I think Kubo was going to reveal her as one of the coveted Vastlords and make her one of his new Espada, alongside the likes of Wonderweiss. I think Kubo salvaged part of that plot to put into the awkward round 2-of-3 of the Nnoitra fight, and that what we got was just what a hastily truncated version of that whole dynamic looked like. (The entire delay on bringing up the two of them makes the eventual confrontation seem like an afterthought. The reveal itself seems like nonsense and requires way too much exposition just to justify. The transformation itself isn’t actually explained. The fight doesn’t even go anywhere or forward the plot. And the transformation back isn’t explained either.)

So, on this basis, Nnoitra being been sent to track down Vastlords and senselessly slaughtering hollows in the process was something i think Kubo wanted from an early point, but that was also back when looking for the Vastolord was still an actual plot hook. (Consider that by the time the Nel fight was happening, it hadn’t been mentioned in forever and never would again either. So, if it wasn’t wrapping up the Vastlord plot, and wasn’t developing it toward anything, why bring it up? Because it wasn’t written with the future plot in mind, it was written with the past plot in mind.)

But in his mix of arrogance and insecurity Nnoitra wouldn’t bring any Vastolord back to Aizen, he’d strike them down so they couldn’t be made into Arrancar that would be more powerful than him. And you can see how this idea and what we actually got share all that same basic shapes of character dynamic and even plot beats(as crudely outlined in the assortment of Nnoitra’s dying memories), even within the context of different narratives.

But Aizen’s plans also clearly meant to make use of Orihime’s Rejection powers, though we never really learned how. One hinted at option was that his method of forcing the Hougyoku out of hibernation was damaging it, and that he intended to have Orihime undo that damage. Or alternatively to have her just undo the sealing process that forced the Hougyoku into hibernation in the first place. Either way, putting the full power Hougyoku in his hands before the projected deadline of “Winter” that Soul Society was planning for.

But another consideration in that he could have had her Reject the imperfect Arrancar process of Mock-Arrancar like I assume Nel was meant to be, like Starrk was (I assume unintentionally) shown to be, and like Ulquiorra was kind of established as out of core continuity, so that he could remake them more completely with the Hougyoku.

I think this is where Nel’s adult form was actually going to come from, (rather than randomly turning into a woman and then given an even less explained transformation into a child in the first place) and also why Kubo had a second Resurreccion for Ulquiorra fully prepared as a design (remember he only used his first resurreccion for like 2 chapters before busting out Segunda Etapa) and yet never bothered with an in-world explanation for what or why it even was.

Speaking of Ulquiorra, I don’t feel like I have a lot to add about his particular character development. It didn’t quite have what I’d call a “satisfying” conclusion, but it seems like we got most of what Kubo was aiming for from him: that he’s kind of the ideal model of an Arrancar, an empty vessel —A creature without a heart given human awareness— slowly being filled up with emotional understanding as he watches Orihime never give up on her friends. Even without a more dramatic turning point for it, plot wise, he did basically complete his process, at the very last minute, of being won over.

Going back to the Nel part of this rewrite: If Aizen had Orihime revert her to a Vastlord so he could make her into a more powerful Arrancar himself, while the plot development would inevitably have a menacing tone to it, there’d be the fun exploitable loophole where, because Orihime’s powers are abstract and not time based, reverting Nel from a Mock-Arrancar to a Hollow wouldn’t actually erase any of her memories or experiences, so she’d still be fundamentally good and herself and loyal to Ichigo.

So to bring this back around to pt.1 of this big rant, if the Winter War scenario had been able to play out under these circumstances, it would stand to reason that when Aizen arrives with the Perfect Espada, taking the Gotei 13 by surprise and overpowering them completely the first “twist” of the climactic battle would’ve been the Visored —with complete training Ichigo— would arrive to fight Aizen, and subsequently reveal that they aren’t actually allies with Soul Society just because they’re also fighting Aizen, they steal the Hougyoku for themselves, Orihime tries to spring her Rejection plan into action before it’s too late, and the new shuffle leaves Ichigo and Orihime and their personal circle of innately good Arrancar, against (at least some of...) the Visored.

And I honestly I kind of figure that Tousen’s whole science-experiment hybrid form was something that Shinji probably would’ve wound up with instead, with about the same heel-face-turn tone as Ginjou stealing Ichigo’s Fullbring. Which would’ve just ended with Aizen taking the Hougyoku back, probably gloating about his experiments, and then just roll right into his god form ascension, not actually all that dissimilar to what we wound up with anyway.

I don’t really know that there was a coherent conclusion to this. it started with wanting to get the Vastlord and Arrancars as good guys thing, and collecting the surrounding evidence and logic for that, but talking about kinda necessitated outlining its function in the broader plot and themes, which meant my headcanon... so here we are.... but I dunno what else to get into about this whole thing without just derailing into a whole other offshoot of rants... so I guess we’re done here. for now...

#bleach #meta #rant #ramble #babble #gibberish

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ll-underestimated-ll · 3 years

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Answering All Questions from a Prompt Cos I Do What I Want

1. What’s one experience your character had that made them very afraid?

The first time he woke up to find that what he’d dismissed as being entirely the formation of one of his nightmares - was very much real. Prompted the realisation of just how much harm he was capable of doing.

2. Does your character have a deep and/or dark secret? If so, what is it?

Leo doesn’t let people know that his sire & grandsire never entirely aligned themselves with the Camarilla. Considering it took him some time to work that out himself he holds hope that at his current age people simply won’t go digging. There is also generally a lot of things he’s done in the name of fulfilling some role or another that he feels deep shame for. That’s less kept secret and more... he just doesn’t speak about it.

3. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as they were before they lost them?

Many. Regularly. Loss is simply part of un-life for him. The fact he hasn’t lost anyone near and dear to him over the last half a century hangs over him like a bad omen. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. But a short list of the most notable losses that had an summary of their impact on him: - Eldest brother : sickness/starvation ~1510 - resulted in Leo taking on a survivalist ‘me before others’ attitude. - Best friend : first feed post-embrace 1516 - made him terrified of himself for several years - First wife : Mother order him to burn her to death late-1520s - made him highly aware of the fact that he can be turned on people he’s cared about - Ell (one of his ‘siblings’) : sent on a suicide mission Mother had him sign off on ~1630?1620? - was the last straw in hammering home what he’d already seen over the course of being blood bonded. They were all disposable to her, and it was only a matter of time before he’d meet the same fate. - Nossie he’d fallen for : execution 1940s - after he had committed several masquerade breaches Vindr ordered Leo to use trust he had with him to follow through with the execution. It’d been a long time since he’d killed someone that dear to him and the ease at which he did it unsettled even himself.

4. Has your character ever been hurt or betrayed by someone they thought they could depend on? What happened?

Yes. He’d had ‘siblings’ try to double-cross him on plenty of occasions. Usually was via trying to pin the blame for something on him.

5. Would they ever turn on someone they just met in order to save themselves?

Yes.

6. Have they ever committed a crime, or something they felt was wrong? What was it?

The entire Crimes Act. At least, as far as he has the capacity for doing so.

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why?

Vindr. The time spent blood bonded to each other between 1860 - 1989.

8. Does your character have any enemies? If so, who and why?

There are several hunters based in the country he’s trying to figure out how to get rid off without causing a scene or draw any attention to. They’re a threat to his community.

9. Is the character a victim of abuse?

Yes.

10. What were the character’s parents like? What was the affect the parents had on the character?

His father was a minor merchant managing the coming and goings of goods from his home village. His work placed them above standard serfdom allowing him the chance to learn basic reading and writing before his sire (Mother) adopted him. Any influence they had on him has long since been overshadowed by other things.

11. What are your character’s coping mechanisms?

Burying himself in work and activities. Finding relatable aspects in fictional characters. Joking around and making the most of opportunities where he doesn’t have to take things too seriously.

12. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?

After lifetimes of suffering he’d prefer to avoid it. However he does have a cruel streak and enjoy seeing other people suffer. Has that ‘it’ll build character’ and ‘it’s not that bad so suck it up’ sort of attitude towards other peoples shit. Sometimes he just wants someone to suffer as a way to exercise control over them.

13. What does it take to make your character cry?

Simultaneously a lot, and also real minor stuff. Ya know, the standard shit to come from suppressing/bottling up your reactions to incredibly straining situations. He’ll be cold and apathetic in some incredibly horrible situation he ought to cry about. Then some time later break down post screaming fit at some inanimate object because it wasn’t cooperating with him.

14. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

Other than his prioritisation of maintaining his own power and survival over anything else? The fact he’s stuck at 16 years old. That’s an incredibly difficult thing to work around - even when in a relationship based purely on romantic feelings. These modern nights he feels that both physical and overall age lock him out of legitimate relationships entirely. To the point where he doesn’t even play at stringing people along on one sided things ~for the drama~ like he used to.

This particular reason is what’s had him friendzoned by the twins, despite them being the best probably candidate and him pulling kind of a Edward on them.

15. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Biggest fear is hard to pinpoint, but in general the concept of being completely helpless and not in control of his own actions. When scared he gets paranoid and hyper-vigilant of his surroundings. Very on guard towards any threats and looking for away to run away.

16. What are your character’s vices and bad habits?

Impulsiveness. Knowingly causing harm. Smoking.

17. Is your character afraid of death? Why/why not?

Absolutely. He doesn’t even like to think about what final death will have in store for him.

18. Would society call your character a good guy or a bad guy? what would they say they are?

From societies perspective from everything he’s been involved with - 120% a bad guy. He’d say the same and mark himself down as being an Anti-hero at best.

19. What is your character insecure about?

His own paranoia causing him to flip from being impulse to being incredibly indecisive at times.

20. What was something they struggled with greatly and how did they overcome it?

Being blood bonded. Overcome through a mix of share force of will and personal introspection.

21. Does your character have anyone that they really care about, to the point that they would give their life for them? If so, who are they and what is your character’s relation to them? If not, do they wish they did? Is there anyone they wish they could build such a relationship with?

While he doesn’t think he’d give his lives for them because that sort of behaviour is incredibly foolish in his eyes - his current found family from the past century. His central coterie of the twins and Alexandra in particular. He will throw just about everyone in his city under the bus in the name of protecting them. And, they’d do the same. In post-prince verse when his city falls Alex ends up the one sacrificing her life for him and god the guilt is sickening.

He’s quite happy with his current little familial circle but he’s hoping to get closer with Danny. Get him to be part of that found family circle properly.

22. If they could change just one thing about themselves, what would it be?

He’d like to have the capacity to care for people without feeling like he’s going to inevitably be their downfall.

23. Is your character more physically or emotionally strong? Why is this?

If we’re talking strong in terms of taking blows that can be taken I wanna say physically cos despite it being his lowest stat his Fortitude is high so he soaks damage fairly easily.

24. What is your character’s most important possession? Why?

He still has his signet ring from when he fled his Mother. Not even he knows just how much that it means to him. It’s intensely sentimental to him as the only physical possession he has left of that era of his life. Someone stole it from him while he was living in London and he made quite the mess of them to get it back.

25. Do they find that they care what others think of them? Or do they not really mind how others view them?

He flip flops wildly between caring intensely about what others think of him and not giving a singular shit. It depends on the crowd and his motivations. In general his preference is to have people to like him and see him as above them in some way.

26. What, in your character’s life, puts the most pressure on them?

The community he’s Prince of. He sees his role as being to protect them at the end of the day and sometimes that means doing things they don’t like. But doing things they dislike gets push back and push back de-legitimises his power as Prince.

27. What would be the worst way to die, in your character’s opinion?

How he almost died when I used him briefly as a PC. Disgraced. Looked down upon with no dignity by everyone around him in a city he’s unfamiliar with. Nobody. Nothing. The last of his city. A waste of the self sacrifice from those he loved. Crying, screaming desperately trying to claw his way out of capture at the hands of those that don’t know tossing him in a holding cell where light can get to him will kill him.

28. What is your character’s greatest strength?

In mun’s opinion, the fact that despite everything he’s been through and seen...the fact that he just keeps going.

29. What is their weapon of choice, and what weapon do they dislike using the most?

Social manipulation so that combat is avoided in the first place. But, he’s always had a liking for firearms and actually quite likes using them. He dislikes fighting with his bare hands.

30. What makes them feel safe or secure? What makes them feel insecure or unsafe?

He feels most safe when either alone or the only people around him are those he has blood bonded. He feels deeply uncomfortable around kindred that are of a lower generation than him. With dominate as a main discipline he finds that not being able to resort to it suddenly makes all interactions with the person he’s interacting with very threatening.

#long post #ooc #about

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marvel-ousnesss · 4 years

Text

My very own Prince Charming (Bucky x reader Royal AU) - Pt. 1

Word count: 4705

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Queen!reader

Warning: Mild cursing

A:/N: I don't know much about royal protocols and other stuff so I mostly based myself on the Princess Diaries and some googling. Message me if you wanna be tagged in upcoming parts or updates on my masterlist. Also, this won’t match the MCU timeline, but will have some elements of the plot. And, for the sake of the story, S.H.I.E.L.D. is an international organization.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE MARVEL CHARACTERS/ PLOT.

Twenty three years ago, international intelligence had detected activity of Hydra members inside King James’ palace, and his only son, and heir to the crown, had received multiple threats. At first, the stubborn monarch didn’t make major changes, claiming Hydra was only cultivating fear. The prince was kidnapped, and only then were exhaustive measures taken, and; in a matter of a few months, he was found and taken back home.

It was hard not to notice that the traumatic experience had affected both the boy and his father, for the two of them had grown paranoid of something happening to them, or to their kingdom. So, internal security was doubled and the prince was sent into hiding.

But the problem was nowhere near eliminated. More recent investigations had unmasked the nation’s Prime Minister, Alexander Pierce, and other members of the court, as Hydra spies and, considering the events that had unfolded before, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw how relaxed the old king seemed to be with it all.

That morning, he had strolled into your palace with the warm smile that he always seemed to wear; and, only after drinking his peppermint tea, did he step into the meeting room.

It had been an hour since then.

Now, you were desperately trying to keep your composure. The meeting had been going on and on in what seemed like circles and King James Barnes could not bring himself to understand how serious the situation was.

With Pierce imprisoned, the king openly expressed his intention to bring his son back into the spotlight. This, you thought, was the most reckless decision he could make, and you didn't keep it to yourself. As soon as you heard, you asked to meet him to make him see the risks of the whole plan. After all, it affected you directly, given that the prince was your betrothed.

“Your majesty, I believe that matter was already taken care of, Minister Pierce and the rest of the traitors were imprisoned for their actions,” he assured, with his silver brows frowned.

“That’s not enough, it’s unsafe and idiotic for Prince James to come back until the whole engine of Hydra is dismantled.” You took a sip of your coffee, trying to appear calm.

“They’ll spend the rest of their days in maximum security; that will deliver the message. There is nothing to worry about.''

“Hydra won’t even flinch with their imprisonment, Prince James won’t be welcome here until the coast is clearer or international measures are taken,” you stated, crossing your arms.

"That’s not a call for you to make, dear. I Will make the arrangements for my son to be sent here, as I had agreed with your father and the parliament of Galicia, and wedding preparations will commence as soon as he arrives."

They won't get any more fear from us," he looked at you pointedly; "from neither of our kingdoms”.

…

You had met Tony Stark a few years prior, at the annual Diamond Aircraft Industries Convention and Exhibition, which you were both attending as honored guests. Just needed to say that, In Bruce's words, everything had gone downhill from there.

He was one of the most frequent guests at the palace and you were one of the most distinguished figures to attend his parties; but, it was more than that. Since your friendship with the businessman began developing, you tested the waters and, bit by bit, grew to trust him. You became the closest of friends, and each other’s esporadical, charge-free therapists.

For obvious reasons, he told you all about his media starboy business, but you barely knew what went on downstairs, in his lab. Same went for him; you didn’t tell him everything, and he understood. But both of you had the vice of rambling a lot; so he had a good idea of the royal gossip going on in your life, and you had a few clues about his mad-scientist mystery.

There wasn’t much rambling, at the moment; just the therapy part. Your head rested between your hands while your mind drifted off, softly singing along the AC/DC album playing from the computer in front of you, thinking about possible solutions for the problem at hand. However, the awfully permanent smirk plastered on your friend's face didn't help at all. You groaned, lifting your head and frowning at the billionaire.

“So… you’re not gonna marry him? There's one little problem standing in your way,” Tony scoffed, filling two glasses with his finest Macallan. “Kind of a big problem actually: thirty-seven parliament members who'll have your head if you go all Princess Diaries on them. Not to mention Jimbo and junior, and daddy's ghost roaming around your castle."

“Well, it's the only solution I can think of, daddy dearest sure managed to leave me between a gun and a wall, and not figuratively. I can’t call off the engagement just try to postpone it, that way, at least the king will have no reason to take his son back home anytime soon and, hopefully, I avoid getting a terrorist pain in the ass.”

He leaned on the counter, taking a long sip of his drink. “Why do you care so much about Prince Charming; for all we know, old Jamey may have some Kingsman business under the table and, wedding or not, it’s gonna involve Galicia”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, haven't you seen the news? How useful can a secret plan be if his government is basically Hydra's headquarters by now?”

"Well, from the PG civilian version that you, and half of the journals worldwide, have told me, all of us are eventually gonna get bugged by Hydra, so you might as well make up a pro-wedding plan, which leads me to my field of expertise. Whatever you do, don't even try to pull a Mia Thermopolis. Trust me, the cameras are gonna be all over you, now more than ever; so, unless you wanna go from princess to pauper real quick, you need to behave.”

You emptied your glass, sitting back. "Nothing to worry about then. I’d rather hide under a rock than face a camera right now. Besides, don’t really know what they find appealing about my life; they already have Prince Harry and his American Girl, turning everything into some reality show.”

He quirked a brow, snickering. “No offense, but your life’s basically the royal edition of Parental control.”

"Fuck off. I'm not even against marrying the guy; I mean, how bad can it be?"

"Let’s see, um, Donald Trump bad, Charlie Sheen bad, Alec Baldwin bad,” he grimaced, “Amber Heard bad, ooh… Caytlin Jenner bad, want me to continue?"

"I get it, Stark, it may not be ideal; but I'm really not bothered by an arranged marriage.”

“He could be ten years old,” he began fidgeting with a paper, making tiny balls out of it.

You glared at him, “he’s not”.

“Could be gay,” he declared, throwing one of the balls into the trash can across the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t be a bad thing, look at Philip of Orleans,” You tried to dodge, but the next ball hit you on the nose. You picked it up from your lap, and threw it back at him.

“Cheesy,”

“There’s worse things.”

“Bald,”

“Seriously, Tony?” You complained, standing up and turning the light on. You then moved past your previous spot on the kitchen chair, going straight for the couch. You let yourself fall gracelessly and padded the spot next to you, where Tony sprawled himself with a huff.

“Or… he could be a cocky bastard.”

“Already got practice with those.” You smirked, smacking him lightly on the back of his head.

“Glad my bickering made you feel better,” he smiled at you.

You laughed. “Fuck you, Jimmy Neutron.”

“You wish,” he chuckled, grabbing the remote.

—————————————

Two weeks passed, and it was done. No turning back now, Prince James had been sent to his kingdom and, after some father-son quality time, was supposed to arrive at your palace that very morning, for you to finally meet him in the afternoon.

You felt like a complete idiot, like a high school girl. The last time you had seen the prince, you were both five, so all you could do was wonder how he had changed over the years. You had breakfast with an ambassador from the Global Charities Aid Foundation, but it had practically passed in a blur. Before you would’ve liked, you found yourself in the limousine, on your way back home, with the major part of the day still ahead of you.

Your gaze was glued to the driver’s head, you were motionless.

Thinking.

What were you supposed to say to him? “Hey, you’re welcome to put us all in danger, make yourself at home. By the way, I think your father’s a dickhead”?... not appropriate. It had to go something along the lines of “Your highness, hi. Welcome to your future home but still my kingdom. But, hey! you get to choose our wedding cake.”... no, too straight forward.

“After speaking to Colonel Rhodes at eleven, you'll be heading to the Marbella room at three, for greeting and welcoming the prince and his people; and later, at four, a sweet two hours of document verification and signing.”

It had to be perfect; consistent, not sharp… kind, but not weak… polite, but not passive agress—

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?"

You huffed, “No.”

Clint, one of your attachés, scoffed at your attitude but gave you an encouraging, soft smile. “Rhodes, prince, letters,” he clarified.

"Maybe a few gallons of coffee to go with it? I’m sure the breakfast meeting left us all half asleep," suggested your bodyguard, Pietro.

You let out a strangled laugh, but remained zoned out, until the intrigued gazes your bodyguard kept sending your way became too obvious.

“Do I have something on my face, Piet, or do you simply enjoy staring?” You spoke without catching his eye.

“Yes, no, nevermind… it’s just… there’s something on your face; a ‘gonna meet my husband’ look, kinda makes you look nervous.”

“Really?” Clint jeered.

You loured at him, earning an apologetic puppy look.

You chuckled, genuinely this time. Pietro could be annoying at times, he spoke without filter and got himself in trouble; but you couldn’t stay mad at him, the little shit always managed to make you laugh.

The limousine came to a stop, right in front of the palace. The door was opened for you, so you breathed once and graciously made your exit, followed by Pietro and Clint.

Arriving home always brought a smile to your face; the marble facade of the place, together with the colorful gardens, the blue of the sky, and the friendly faces of your staff and household members made you momentarily forget about what was to come.

“Your majesty, Mr. Barton,” grinned Wanda, your other attaché. “How was your meeting?”

“Not that bad," you found yourself smiling at her.

“Don’t I deserve a greeting?” asked Pietro, but his sister only rolled his eyes.

You scoffed at their quibbling. “How’s everything going? Has the Colonel arrived yet?”

“He’s waiting for you in the library.”

“Thanks, Wanda; I’ll see you later.” You made your way inside, closely followed by Pietro.

The Colonel was sitting on a velvet chair, going over a pile of paperwork. As soon as you made an appearance through the waiting room’s door, he stood up and subtly curtsied. “Your Majesty, Lieutenant Maximoff,” he greeted.

“Sorry for the wait, Colonel. Shall we begin?” You opened the library door, allowing both men to go inside before you.

You proceeded to settle on your desk, with your guest sitting in front of you. Pietro stationed himself at the door and adopted a firm posture, head held high and hands behind his back.

“Lieutenant, would you be kind enough to leave us alone?”

Complying with his superior’s words, Pietro unlocked the door but, when he was about to open it, you said, “Lieutenant, please stay. Colonel, whatever you need to speak to me as my head of security, I’m sure the commander of the royal guard, whom you personally named, poses no danger.”

“As you wish, your majesty; but I'm here to talk about a matter of absolute secrecy.”

You exhaled.

“As you know, with the current situation, it would be wise for you to take measures in regards to your personal protection. I know we're talking about not only an anarchist, but terrorist organization, which requires the employment of country-wide measures, but members of King James's War and Defense council have expressed their desire to keep our actions minimal, to see how Hydra proceeds.”

You quipped, “They want an attack.”

“I’m afraid so”, he nodded.

“Fine, they want discretion, we'll give it to them. I want SHIELD involved. While the King's people work on whatever it is they are doing, I want someone there to get information from Pierce and the other inmates. No need to worry about me.”

"That'll certainly end up in diplomatic issues if we don't consult the World Security Council first," he said as he scanned his planner notebook, looking for the other topics he had selected for going over.

"Too flashy," you mumbled, thinking.

“Maybe contact commander Hill,” suggested Pietro, who had heard about her reputation.

“Who?” you tilted your head.

“SHIELD’s Deputy Director”, clarified Rhodes, then prompted Pietro to continue.

He looked into Rhodes’ eyes, then yours. “Once you tell her about his majesty’s plan of not having a plan, I’m sure she’ll assign someone without having to involve diplomacy.”

“What do you, think, Colonel?”

“I’ll speak to her, and update you on the course of action that she recommends.”

Pietro smirked, his chest sticking out.

“Great.” You nodded.

He scratched the topic from his list, “on a different matter, I wanted to ask if you had already set a date for the arranged visit of the newly named members of the War and Defense council. I was thinking of next Friday, for dinner?”

“Friday is perfect, Colonel.” You smiled, “I’ll see them at eight pm on that day.”

….

You had three hours to spare before the most dreaded meeting you've had since the reading of your father’s will. It was only natural for your head to be foggy but you couldn’t afford to waltz through the day like that. Fresh air, that’s what you needed.

Discarding your trench, heels and dress, you jumped into a (classic avenger disguise) pair of skinny jeans and a hoodie, making sure your face was more or less concealed by sunglasses and a baseball cap. Ready to go, you walked out walked out the door but, as expected, you didn’t even reach the stairs.

“Where’ you headed, your majesty?,” inquired Pietro, crossing his arms and lifting a brow.

He was the most loyal friend one could ask for, but annoyingly rigorous when it came to his job. He had to know where you were and who you were with, especially outside the castle’s protection.

“Just want some coffee, and maybe a croissant,” you tried to walk past him, but he grabbed your arm softly.

“You know all that you need to do is say the word, right? The kitchen’s a call away.” Now, he was messing with you; you could tell by his boyish smirk.

“You know what I mean,” you playfully punched his arm.

“Fine,” he lifted his hands defensively, “meet you downstairs.”

After you practically sprinted to the first floor, you sat down at the lobby and waited for your shadow. He walked down the stairs wearing a pair of gray joggers and a white basic v-neck, not forgetting his earpiece and gun, carefully concealed under his jacket.

Both of the guards at the entrance bowed slightly and opened the wooden door.

“Who would’ve thought you’d take babysitting so seriously?” You teased.

“Well, don’t wanna deal with Clint and Wanda yelling at me for losing you; not to mention Rhodes and Stark, ” he deadpanned. “Would be annoying. Also, I’d have to go job-hunting.”

“I’m sure you’d manage, I mean, half of Hollywood would cut an ear off for you to work for them.”

“What can I say, guess I'm that good at my job.”

You scoffed, “I bet their thoughts drift off to things a bit over your pay-grade.''

“Well, my ‘pay-grade’,” he air quoted, “ is negotiable.”

You quirked a brow at him, smirking, “eew.”

“You’re just jealous,” he taunted. “I’m sorry, but you're like my other sister."

"Yeah, right."

"One that's also my boss, kinda weird relationship; but, eh, you get the point."

You chuckled, letting the scene fall into a comfortable silence as you walked, occasionally hitting each other with your shoulders. After a few minutes, you arrived at your favorite coffee shop, and sat down on a table at the back.

When he placed two huge cups on the table, you laughed, “you weren’t kidding about the gallons of coffee.”

“Oh, you wanted some too, my bad.” He grabbed a cup with each hand, holding them out of your reach.

“Oh yeah?” You took hold of the cardboard plate which held both of your donuts and put it on your lap, under the table.

When you had your fill, and bought a few pastries to go, you made your way back to the castle.

“You know, we should lay down for a bit,” you voiced. “There, under the trees.”

“Don’t you have a blind date in like two hours?” Not that you don’t look hot right now, but you need to get all royalled up.”

Your smile disappeared, “Shit, you’re right.”

With the park now behind you, minutes went by as you walked through the crowded street with Pietro, animatedly discussing some recent soccer games.

You noticed that some odd looks were directed your way, so you tried to ignore them. Maybe it was just your imagination, maybe they had just recognized you. Better brush it off… you adjusted your hood and continued. But the whispers and snickering were a reaction you never got when seen in public.

It didn’t seem to stop. Now you were sure it wasn’t just you, so you looked at Pietro, silently asking for help. As a response, he placed an arm around your shoulders, shielding your face a bit better.

You continued talking as if nothing happened, but it was useless; even if the glances only came from some random pedestrians, it was getting pretty awkward.

You were about to stop walking, when you felt an unfamiliar hand tapping your shoulder.

“I’m really sorry, but you have a bloodstain on your pants,” the stranger scratched the back of his neck, clearly taken aback by the situation.

“Here.” He offered his denim jacket, which, after thinking about it for a moment, you accepted, wrapping it around your waist .

You smiled at him, and he visibly relaxed, “thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave you one last tight-lip smile and began toward the other side of the road, but still in the same direction in which you were going.

Pietro softly pushed you forward, prompting you to say something; “he gave you his jacket,” he mumbled.

“So?”

“Flirting,” he coughed.

You weren't supposed to; heck, you were on your way to meet your fiancé, but there was no harm in small talk… right? You took a breath, it was the first time you did this, so you had absolutely no idea what to say.

You took a step forward, then eyed Pietro, who urged you to continue… Here went nothing.

“I’m Y/N/N.”

He turned around, all of the sudden radiating confidence.

With an alluring smile that made his indigo eyes twinkle, he replied, “Bucky, nice to meet you.”

Pietro quietly snickered beside you, then opened his mouth, “and I’m Pietro, her boyf-”.

“Best friend”—you elbowed him in his right side— “he's my best friend.”

Bucky’s gaze drifted between the two of you. After hesitating for a second, he chose to believe you.

“So, where' you headed?” He asked.

You lied with ease, giving him a charming smile, “I have a meeting near the palace, how ‘bout you?”

“Same actually, wanna walk together?” His eyes drifted awkwardly between you and Pietro, “the… three of us?”

“Actually, my sister just texted me, says she needs help with, uhh, her cat; he's been... acting weird lately. Bye Y/N/N.”

Just like that, Pietro left. Only, he didn’t.

He had to keep an eye on you, so he was just gonna keep his distance.

“So, your best friend…” Bucky trailed off, hands half inside the pockets of his jeans.

“Yup,” you popped the ‘P’, "but let’s not talk about him. Your accent...,” you noted, “where are you from?”

“I’ve been living in New York for quite some time,” he didn’t answer your question, but you gave it no mind.

"What brought you all the way here?” You adjusted his jacket around your waist.

He scratched the back of his neck, letting out a breath.

"I… sorry, you don't have to-...," you atoned, but he cut you off.

“Relax, doll, it’s fine," he assured. "My father called me last week, basically told me to drop everything and come help out with some family business.”

The way in which he spoke picked your interest; it wasn't with resentment or bitterness, which you'd have expected from someone who had basically left everything on hold, but just as if he had been waiting for that to happen. Nevertheless, his voice came out thicker than it had before, so you could tell he was clearly affected by it.

Unsure whether or not to change the topic, you asked, "what's New York like? I’ve never been there.”

He chuckled softly, lifting his brows, "exhausting, fast-paced, it's like everyone's in a rush all the time. it's surprisingly homely; the people, the sights, everything's great but, you know, the food’s what I love the most.”

You looked at him quizzically, tried to suppress a laugh, “seriously?”

“The touristy places aren’t bad, but, when you have an expert guide, that’d be me, it’s something else.”

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” you removed your hood, but fixed your hair so it would frame your face.

“For now, you’ll have to.” He bit his lower lip, masking a smile.

Did he just say ‘for now’? Of course he did. You chuckled nervously, doing what you could to get rid of the silences that had surfaced.

“So, what else do you hide?, apart from being an expert New York foodie, of course,” you finally asked.

“I own a small gallery in Brooklyn,” he explained. “My friend, Steve, he’s an artist; we show and sell most of his work there,” his right hand moved to his hair, fixing a rebel strand. “But, enough ‘bout me. My turn to ask.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Ideal date.” He declared, with the same bold smile that, to be honest, made your knees tremble.

This time, you straight up laughed at how straight forward he was.

Before you’d have liked, you reached your destination. The World Trade Center and the Wakandan international aid center stood tall before you, in front of a subway station that led straight to the castle.

Instead of heading down the subway stairs, you smiled at him and stopped walking. “Well, this is me. It was nice walking with you, uh.. take care.”

You waved goodbye and walked to the buildings as fast as you could, avoiding any more conversation.

“Wait!” Bucky urged, “didn’t catch your number.”

You gave him his jacket back, together with an apologetic, tight lipped smile, and stepped inside.

What was Pietro thinking? No, what were you thinking? If people at the palace heard a word of it, you'd never get a break. Through the window, you saw him jogging toward the subway station with a slight frown on his face, and mentally cursed.

With that taken care of, you could focus on fixing your bloody situation so you could get to the palace (sort of) on time.

You waited until Bucky was out of sight and sprinted across the street, toward the recently opened Wakandan aid center. When you entered the lobby, you greeted the staff and walked to the receptionist’s desk.

Amare was the woman who assisted you every time you came to meet king T’Challa or the ambassador, so you didn’t hesitate to ask her for a tampon, a pad, whatever she had at hand, really.

She handed you a tampon and you rushed to the restroom. Once out, you glanced out the window to make sure the coast was clear. After thanking her and saying goodbye, you went toward the subway station. Your hand flew to your jean’s back pocket and, by heart, you dialed your prime minister’s number.

“I assume you're running late.” His voice was tired; no, calm, yet aggravated.

"Hey, Bruce," you sang, trying to lighten the mood.

"Y/N.”

His voice was still cold, but softer. You sighed and went straight to the point. Bruce was one of the most patient and understanding people you Knew, but you didn’t wanna push him too far. He was known for having quite a thin temper, which you had personally experienced only two times and wanted to keep it that way.

“Please, could you entertain Prince James and his people?, just for a bit,” you were panting, jogging down the stairs. “I’m begging you, I just had a little problem.”

“Of course I'll help you," he sighed. “Just make sure you get here before they leave.”

“So, so funny," you rolled your eyes. “See you at twenty.”

He coughed, “ten.”

He already knew there was no hope of you arriving on time. This was a frequent conversation between the two of you; whether it was for an official matter, or whatever else that required your presence.

As soon as the phone call ended, your train arrived. You opted for standing up, wanting to avoid leaving a crime scene on the plastic seat; your hand grabbed the pole, and your left foot bounced restlessly. Practically jumping out of the train, you sprinted to the palace and straight to your room.

Shower, tampon, dress, makeup, hair, and you were out the door, with your shoes in your hand. Heels could wait.

Record time, you thought, falling limp on one of the chairs outside the throne room; proceeding to put your stilettos on and fix other minor details.

While you were at it, Pietro, who was leaning against the doorway, made his presence known. “You know, something tells me there’s a story that I’d like to hear”.

“You literally shadowed me the whole way home, Piet, you got first row seats for the entire thing.” You glanced at his navy blue suit through your makeup mirror, as you fixed your lipstick.

He loosened his tie a little bit. “Just to be clear, I wasn’t listening,” he claimed.

You rolled your eyes. "Of course you weren't.”

“How nosy do you think I am?”

“Very.”

He protested weakly but you gave it no mind, your heart was pounding and your hands were shaking. You inhaled and closed them into fists, then grabbed the handle of the door.

You were about to open it, then you stopped. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Pietro grabbed your arms and gently rubbed up and down. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“What if it’s not,” you mumbled.

“You have nothing to worry about.” He turned you around so he could face you. "If he doesn't like you, I'm sure he'll change his mind in no time; I mean, look at you. And, if he ever tries to hurt you or take over your throne, you know I'll kill him, remember that."

You hugged him tightly. "Thanks," you whispered into his shoulder.

At first, you opened the door just enough for your voice to be heard, so your name could be announced.

“In comes her royal majesty, Queen Y/N from the house of Y/L/N; and Lieutenant Pietro Maximoff, commander of the Royal Guard and of her majesty's personal escort.”

That's when you stepped into the throne room.

Requests open!

#Bucky x reader #Avengers imagine #mcu imagine #Tony stark #pietro maximoff #Bucky barnes #Avengers x reader #Bucky imagine #Bucky x you #Bucky x y/n #Prince!Bucky x reader #royal au #prince!bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #arranged marriage au #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfic

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setsuna-maru · 3 years

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Chapters: 6/? Fandom: 半妖の夜叉姫 | Hanyou no Yashahime | Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon (Anime), InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rin/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha) Characters: Rin (InuYasha), Sesshoumaru (InuYasha), Setsuna (Hanyou no Yashahime), Naraku (InuYasha), Jaken (InuYasha) Additional Tags: Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

After his fateful third encounter with his half-brother, Sesshoumaru meets, not a human girl, but an involuntary time-traveler. Determined to right the path he would've strayed from, the course of history is changed. Years later, an intoxicating scent blows in with the cold gust of a new spring and Sesshoumaru will cross paths with the woman who would've shaped his future.

And possibly still could.

Chapter 6

Sesshoumaru hasn’t seen or heard of the spider hanyo since they left him in pieces years before but he knows that tell-tale miasma stench anywhere. The fact that Naraku managed to survive is somehow less surprising than the fact that he’s confronting Sesshoumaru in person, rather than using a puppet. Or sending one of his detachments.

Everyone is coming out of the woodwork, he mentally scoffs. First he catches wind of that human's scent and now back comes Naraku and his whole bothersome existence.

That human woman was turning out to be just like her would-be daughter; a bad omen.

"Naraku," he acknowledges his newly-reappeared enemy. Sesshoumaru tries to keep his voice as neutral as possible while still maintaining an aura of obvious contempt. Jaken immediately springs into action, cursing the spider and making threats on behalf of his master.

"I'm surprised you've decided to show your face again.” A face that had not visibly changed since their last confrontation. Other than being healed and fully-intact, Naraku looked much the same from the days when Sesshoumaru had become entangled in his complicated web. The one that included Inuyasha and his companions, among countless others.

“When I, Sesshoumaru, and Kirinmaru of the Dawn confronted you years ago, you fled with your tail between your legs and did not return."

Sesshoumaru had never believed Naraku defeated for good. They had only succeeded in chasing him back into hiding. Inuyasha and his band of friends had attempted to hunt him down and finish what the two daiyokais had started but with no luck. Whatever crevice the threatened spider wedged himself into had proven too dark and deep to find.

"Only one of us here has a tail, Sesshoumaru," comes Naraku's reply.

Sesshoumaru smirks. "You'd think with all your downtime Naraku, you would have better comebacks prepared."

"You’re one to judge, Sesshoumaru,” he scoffs, then chuckles. “Why—You famously have a way with words."

"How dare you insult Sesshoumaru-sama!" comes Jaken’s squawking defense. "He is a man of brilliant eloquence. That you’re ignorant of that is only based on the fact that such a great yokai would never waste his oratorical gifts on the likes of you!" Jaken shakes his Nintojo at the spider demon during his speech for emphasis.

"Oh?" Naraku responds, skeptically. "And who does he share them with? You, little yokai?"

Jaken sputters as he tries to come up with a response.

"Well, there's uh...uh...there is no one truly worthy of my master's poetry, you see! No one with whom he can converse on his own level—"

"Jaken!" Sesshoumaru interrupts him, having had enough. "Silence."

The imp stiffens and ceases his useless chatter.

"Naraku; should Kirinmaru and I need to deal with you again? Is that the reason you've returned from whatever sinkhole you crawled up from?"

"Threatening I, Naraku with the superior Beast King?"

The spider's tone is ruthlessly mocking and Sesshoumaru narrows his eyes slightly as he imagines his claws bursting out the back of that boned armor.

Where did this vermin get off, having that attitude? Like he hadn't been scared into hiding for all this time. Like they hadn't had him on the verge of death.

"Go, Sesshoumaru," he teases. "Tug on Uncle Kirinmaru's hakama and tell Father's friend he needs to fight a battle for you again. I'm sure he's in a charitable mood."

"This coming from one who so often relies on manipulating others into doing his dirty work for him," Sesshoumaru counters. “Aided or not, you were confronted with raw power and strength. Not detachments and trickery.”

"Trickery'" Naraku repeats. “Manipulation of others.” His tone is placidly condescending. ‟You are no stranger to these, Sesshoumaru.”

"It’s true,” Naraku admits. “I, Naraku, will use anyone and anything as a tool. But you, Sesshoumaru, are a great daiyokai. Shouldn’t you have more faith in your own abilities?"

“You’re correct that I’m a daiyokai,” he responds coldly, masking his rapidly dwindling patience with this interaction.

“Unlike you, I don't derive my power from thousands of demon parasites. But all that means is that you have no right to say anything to me. You’re a disgusting thing, Naraku." He adds, "Like all hanyos.”

Naraku is undeterred by the pushback. Being much too aware of Sesshoumaru's insecurities, he moves to a subject he's certain remains a sore spot.

"I see you still don't carry Tessaiga at your hip. Am I to assume your half-brother, Inuyasha, retains possession of your father's fang?"

Sesshoumaru’s mouth tightens. He hears Jaken gasp; appalled by the audacity of invoking Inuyasha’s ownership of the Tessaiga.

"So it's me you've come to first to announce yourself, and not my hanyo brother," he points out. "Should I be flattered? Am I, Sesshoumaru, your new obsession?"

“It was curiosity that brought me to seek you out first," Naraku says. "Was it not a human woman I discovered you conversing with the other day? It seemed like she had an awful lot to say to you.”

Sesshoumaru fights to keep his face impassive. Unless Naraku had used a puppet, he should have been able to smell him or any of his detachments if they had been that close. Just what form of Naraku had been watching—And from where?

“Humans are numerous and unavoidable, even to this one,” he responds, careful not to protest too forcefully.

Naraku persists. “She approached you without fear or hesitation.”

“Are you really expecting I, Sesshoumaru, to explain the behavior of a human?” Again, he treads lightly, measuring his response. He will use no more words of explanation than necessary. For a moment, he wonders why. It's not as if he's trying to protect her.

He’s not.

Sesshoumaru thinks back to the encounter by the river. The damn woman had been so eager to talk . Would she talk to Naraku?

On the chance that she did, whether willingly or by force, what of it? Even if she told him all about Setsuna, she was entirely unaware of the girl’s true nature.

And if Naraku managed to surmise that information regardless...well, it might actually work to Sesshoumaru’s advantage.

Let the spider think he’d found a weakness of his to exploit. Let him try to use it against him. Sesshoumaru would stand proud, smugly belittle him for having such a ridiculous idea and show the fool just how little he cared.

Sesshoumaru's hand goes to the battle sword at his left side. In one swift, fluid motion, he unsheathes Sōryūjin and makes a swipe at Naraku. His target dodges the blade and floats into the air.

"Run to Uncle Kirinmaru," Naraku taunts him, his dark curling hair rising in a curtain above his pale head. "You'll find I, Naraku, will be ready for him."

With that, the spider hanyo flew away, drifting off into the horizon.

"Why, the nerve of him!" Jaken huffs.

His vassal looks up at him, radiating with outrage. "Sesshoumaru-sama, will you go after Naraku? He's getting away!"

"No, Jaken," he says to the imp's consternation. Sesshoumaru needed the opportunity to consider what action to take. Naraku was nothing but a pest, and if he was going to insist on infesting their lives once more, Sesshoumaru would destroy him for good. With or without the Eastern Lord's help.

Sesshoumaru asked Setsuna no further questions and ceased any appearance of cordiality. As far as he was concerned, this is where his business with her ended. He told her so, and in language he imagined to be as devastating and offensive as the situation deserved.

(Years later, he’ll try to recall what exactly he said to her. He’d wanted to make it brutally clear just how he felt about the existence of half-demons but, for some reason, he hadn’t really wanted to insult her personally. In the end, he can’t remember if the generic condemnations he’s thinking of are things he’d actually said to her or lines he’d taunted Inuyasha with around the same time.)

Tainted blood courses through your body...A hanyo whose mother is a human is a disgrace to all our kind...Don’t come near me again, stick to humans—It suits you...Infinitely vulgar beings...I won’t fall to a weakness of the heart...What can half-demons do? You’re useless to me...

His contempt for humans and half-demon’s had stock phrases.

Sesshoumaru had needed something to keep his mind occupied during long days of fruitless hunting for the Tessaiga. It was easy to become fixated on what had left him in that situation in the first place.

For her part, Setsuna seemed deeply unimpressed.

His cruel rejection of her is met by vacant boredom. If anything he had said had gotten under her skin, her face denied it. Inuyasha would have called him a bastard and made several clumsy attempts on his head by that point. Again, he was forced to recognize part of himself in her stoic refusal to be baited into a reaction.

“Are you finished?” she asked, after one last condemnation of her as existential terror.

“Do you understand that we are not to come into contact again? That you are to act as if we have no relationship to one another?”

“It’s not as though that’ll take any getting used to," she replied sardonically.

“Kirinmaru,” he reminded her. “Leave him to me. You’re not to seek him out for any reason.”

Setsuna shrugged. “He’s no business of mine. I already told you; I declined that offer.”

“Then there’s nothing else to discuss. We should not cross paths again.”

With that, he turned his back on her. As far as he knew at the time, that might be the last he'd ever see of the girl; her back against the tree, arms folded, her face defiantly expressionless.

Would she ever make it back to her own time, to her sister? Sesshoumaru certainly wouldn't be worrying himself with such concerns. The only thing he cared about was that she stayed out of his way and didn't draw any attention to herself.

Farewell, Setsuna; you're on your own.

He wondered once more if he should go the extra step of ending her life. It would be the most convenient thing to do. He decided against it, telling himself it was because she still possessed pertinent knowledge of future events. Things it would help to know but hadn’t yet occurred to him to ask about. Never mind the fact that he’d just deliberately set that bridge on fire.

His rationalization complete, Sesshoumaru’s thoughts turned to what to do about Kirinmaru. He wasn’t sure if it would be wise to confront him. Damn Inuyasha—The Tessaiga was wasted on him. What use did the hanyo have for such a powerful sword? What had their father expected his eldest to do if it ever came time for him to confront the Lord of the East?

His desire for his own powerful fang was stronger than ever now. Totosai, the old geezer, would still refuse to forge him one. There were other swordsmith’s—None as good as Totosai, but Sesshoumaru wielding would more than make up for any deficiencies in craft.

He wondered if his Other had ever succeeded in taking Tessaiga from Inuyasha. Or had that demoralizing failure only pushed him even further from his intended path?

Setsuna might've known the answer to that; if he had thought to ask about it. But it doesn’t matter and it’s not worth dwelling over; he's already returned to the correct path; the roads have already diverged. He was the real Sesshoumaru and it was what he did from here on out that truly counted.

All the same, the image of Setsuna's face lingered in his mind; it’s fine details memorized against his will. Pieces of their conversation play back to him and the voice that says "we’re complete strangers" with nothing indicative of caring is her own low one.

He thought back to Tessaiga; that sword meant to be inherited by a half-demon; the sword that had protected Inuyasha's human mother. It's the only semi-rational explanation for what his Other had done but...perhaps, Setsuna’s birth had been an experiment. A last ditch effort at taking Tessaiga for himself.

Lack of compassion for humans was supposedly what had repelled Sesshoumaru from wielding it with his own hands. Would he really have gone that far in pursuit of his father’s fang? If the experiment had proven to be a failure then, that would explain why his other self and his progeny were strangers.

There was a part of him that would like to believe in that scenario but, ultimately, he can’t. (Hanyo or not, he would never abandon his children.) But again, it doesn’t matter. Whatever the reasons for what the Other had done, that future wasn’t his anymore.

Regardless, as things stood then and there, Tessaiga remained stubbornly outside his grasp. He still would need a blade sufficient enough to battle any opponent; from his lowly half-brother, to Naraku to, potentially, Kirinmaru.

Sesshoumaru had a notorious swordsmith to seek out. Kaijinbo would craft him an impressive blade, he was sure of it. He just needed to locate a suitable fang.

#SessRin #SessRin Fanfiction #SessRin Fanfic #bye bye butterfly #bye bye butterfly chapter 6

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petri808 · 4 years

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Oblivious be Thy Name

Inspired by this post @todorokitops

For some reason that baffled those around him, Bakugou always gravitated towards Midoriya no matter how many times he denied it was happening. Eventually his friends grow tired of it and present him with evidence...

Bakudeku *spoiler warning Heroes Rising is mentioned

As he stands in front of UA’s front door on the first day of classes, the sight up ahead just blows Katsuki’s mind. ‘Tch. I swear God hates me…’ He still couldn’t understand how the fuck did that damn quirkless bastard get in here?! But it was no denying it, as they walked into the hero course, that Midoriya Izuka had somehow passed the entrance exam.

Trailing behind towards the same classroom, a string of curses loops in his head as he walks up the aisle of desks. Of course, the gods would throw him this loop! The nerd flashes him a smile, but Bakugou turns his nose up with a sneer, ignoring him and drops into the chair in front of the guy. Same school, same class, now seat mates! Ugh! He could feel Midoriya’s eyes on the back of his head. Three more years of being around this loser, what were the odds.

Everyone around him were just sidekicks to Bakugou. The only true rivals were Icy Hot and maybe Deku based on his own bitter realization. But despite his grumpy attitude, a few of his classmates gravitated towards the hot-headed blonde, immediately trying to befriend him. Maybe he could use them later, well as long as they didn’t get in his way that is.

“Hey Bakugou!”

Just as he’s about to put his tray of food down, he sees the spiky red head waving at him from one of the cafeteria tables. He looks around and notices Midoriya sitting at the end of the one he was about to sit on and sneers. Damn, he needed to pay attention more! Bakugou quickly grabs his tray and heads over to the sidekicks table to join them.

Kirishima smiles, his shark-grin flashing wide. “So, how’d you like the first day?”

Without looking at the red head, Bakugou grabs his fork. “Aizawa’s a dick,” was his only reply before digging into his food.

Undeterred, the man continues. “I heard you and Midoriya come from the same middle school.”

“So.”

“You guys friends? You were about to sit…”

“Fuck no!” he slams his fist onto the table, bending his fork in the process. “Goddamn broccoli head is not my friend!”

Kirishima flinches, “Oh damn, my bad I just assumed…”

“Keep your pea brain out of my affairs. Fuck!” he realizes the fork is bent and tosses it onto the tray. So much for lunch. Just the mere mention of Midoriya as his friend had sent his appetite packing. Bakugou shoves his way off the table, grabs his tray and dumps it in the trash before stomping back to the classroom, leaving a stunned table behind. This year was starting off on such an amazing foot! If it got any better, the blonde was gonna burn it to the ground.

Despite the attitude, Kirishima and a few others still stuck around Bakugou. They’d long stopped asking him questions about the nerd, for fear of setting him off. But it was fine, since they provided him with a source of comic relief. Plus, the red head’s hardening quirk made for a great sparring buddy. He’d feared that Midoriya would follow the same trend as their former school days, but it seemed the guy was making friends of his own. The nerdy bunch, he called them with gravity chick and the four-eyed control freak rounding out the trio. Good. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of their formative years.

The weeks and months pass by at school and there was barely any time for him to focus on his rivalry with Midoriya. Of course, when something did happen, their fights were a mini world war. But usually they stuck to their own groups of friends and it was mostly during class training sessions that somehow, he would end up paired with or in a group with the nerd. Bakugou wondered if Aizawa or All Might was doing it on purpose to piss him off.

“What are you doing here Deku?!”

Midoriya looks up and smiles, ignoring the man’s tone, “oh, hi Kaachan, didn’t see you walk up.”

It was the second Sports Event for UA since they’d entered the school. The first-year students were currently in competitions and the older students are in the stands watching to see the new blood in action. There are a lot of promising quirks to be seen, though so far, nothing as spectacular as their class. That could change with training, and they’d yet to see the individual competitions, so maybe one of the Freshman will surprise them.

“Hey guys,” Midoriya acknowledges the rest of the Bakusquad as the group had become known as. Kirishima, Ashido, Kaminari, and Sero stood behind their leader, each saying hi back to the green haired man as well to Iida and Uraraka who sat next to him.

“Tch.” Bakugou turns and walks away further along the bleachers to find a seat with the rest of the group following behind. With so many people around, he didn’t want to be seen anywhere near Midoriya.

When he settles on an area far enough away, everyone grabs a spot next to or behind the blonde. They were excited to see the action, and Ashido was already talking their ear off about a girl she knew from their old middle school who was a UA student now.

“Oh look, see, there she is!” she points to the field.

“Right! Now I remember her!” Kirishima pipes up. “She’s changed her hair since then.”

“Oi! Could you guys shut it!” Bakugou snaps at them. “If I wanted noise, I’d’ve stayed by Deku!”

“Speaking of that,” the pink haired girl taps her chin, “I was surprised we didn’t sit by them.”

“What?! Why the fuck would I sit by the nerd brigade?!”

“Cause you usually sit near Midoriya,” Kaminari chimes in.

“No, I fucking don’t!”

“Yeah, you do bakubro,” Kirishima adds into the word affray. “When you’re not with us, you’re near him.”

Bakugou turns away refusing to acknowledge what they were saying. “I think the hair dye got in your eyes or maybe you should borrow four-eye’s glasses.”

Seros eyebrow raises from the blatant denial. He taps on Ashido’s shoulder, “you should show him the pics. Maybe then he’ll believe it.”

‘Pictures?!’ The blonde stiffens briefly but pushes away any fears. He has no idea what they were talking about. Sure, there are bound to be some pictures of him near Deku, they’re in the same class, are forced to train together, and have had to deal with villains together. But that didn’t mean he was always around the nerd! At least not by choice! “Tch. I don’t believe you guys.”

Ashido opens a file in her phone to reveal well over a hundred photos spanning their UA career. She turns the screen to face Bakugou but keeps the phone at a slight distance and out of the blonde’s reach. “See?” she slowly scrolls through the library of photos, letting a grin morph onto her face. “Busted.”

The longer he scans, the more the scowl on his face grows. There were pictures in the cafeteria, in the gym, in the dorms common room, and other places on campus. Off campus during training sessions there he was again, sitting next to or within arm’s reach of none other than Deku! What the fuck?! How did he not realize he’d been doing that all this time?!

“Remember that first day of school?” Kirishima questions his friend. “If I hadn’t waved you over, you were walking straight to Midoriya’s table.”

“And today,” Sero adds, “you did it again, just ended up walking straight to where Midoriya was. It’s like you bee-line it to him.”

“Like a moth to a flame,” Ashido sing songs.

“You do it a lot man,” Kaminari laughs, “I can’t believe you didn’t realize it.”

“We were starting to think you had a crush on the guy or something,” Ashido giggles louder, “well a weird ass crush considering how much you say you hate the guy.”

“WHAT!!!” he jumps to his feet in a rage. “FUCK NO!! I-I…” Bakugou storms away furious that they would even insinuate such a notion! “Fuck all of you!” There was no way in hell or heaven he’d willingly sit next to Deku! It had to be lies!

He needed somewhere to cool off, and with the entire school focused on the games, the blonde walks the grounds in search of a place to sit down and clear his head. Eventually he makes it to the grassy knoll near their dorm building and drops into a cross-legged position under a tree. Bakugou closes his eyes. Fuck those pictures! So, what if they showed him sitting near that nerd? If he analyzed them, he’d bet there were normal explanations for every single one of them.

Like that first day of school, it was the first open seat he had noticed, and he’d been starving. The training camp, well he ended up next to Deku because it was the only spot available to sleep. In the common room, there are only a few areas to sit! As he replayed scene after scene as far as he was concerned, they were all just coincidences! ‘And why the hell was Ashido taking pictures of him anyways?!’ Most of the photos were so randomly taken, that it was obvious she was snapping the photos just to point them out. In fact, the file on her phone was named ‘Oblivious.’ Well Fuck her, fuck shitty hair, fuck all of them! He wasn’t…

“WHAT THE FUCK DEKU WHO SAID YOU COULD SIT BY ME!”

Midoriya leans back in his chair confused, “But Kacchan, you-you’re the one who sat next to me… I was here 10 minutes before you.” He didn’t understand what the man was upset about. How had it taken the blonde 15 minutes to realize he was sitting next to him.

Even the police officers in the briefing room had stopped talking to see what the shouting was about.

With all eyes trained on them, Katsuki sees their teacher and All Might motioning for him to be quiet. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, then stands up in a huff to finds another seat further away next to his buddy Kirishima.

“You okay?” the red head queries, “looked like you were zoning out on Midoriya’s head for a while, I assumed you were just ignoring the briefing.”

Bakugou grits his teeth, “Fuck no! Now shut up so they can finish this damn briefing.” He wasn’t staring at Midoriya!

Or was he? The hot head lets out a loud growl that sends a few birds from the surrounding area to take flight. Panic sets in as his eyes pop open from the memory, hands shaking, and heart thudding loudly in his chest. But his mind had snapped. A flash of green in his periphery causes him to whip his head towards it in fear that the nerd had followed him… but it was just a green hedge. Sweat beads along his forehead. What was going on?! Why was he being so paranoid all of a sudden? ‘Oh, hell no!’ Had he chosen this spot because of the green colored hedge?!

All this time was his subconscious pulling him towards the nerd and he’d never realized it? But why?! They’d patched up a lot in their relationship, starting when Deku had told him the truth about his quirk. Regardless of his feelings, the guy was someone he’s known for most of their lives, so he was bound to feel some small comfort around him... This man who reminded him of their childhood and all the carefree times spent playing near their school or apartment building. Just a hanger-on that would follow them around but was the first to lend him a hand. Or whose sunny disposition could piss him off and yet… make him feel relaxed in unfamiliar surroundings…. Then there was the incident on Nabu.

“No, No, No!” Bakugou covers his face with his hands as the same warm feelings he’d ignored around Midoriya blatantly reveals itself. Fear was not something he would ever admit to feeling but having that damn nerd around to watch his back could calm his nerves like no other, or even better, boost his drive and confidence. “Fuck!” He was so screwed!

“This… isn’t… possible…” he mumbles.

“What isn’t possible?”

“What the fuck?!” Bakugou quickly looks up, reacting to the sound of Midoriya’s voice. But after scanning all around him, there’s no one there, just the light whooshing of the breeze funneling through the leaves or the birds warbling. Holy shit now he was hallucinating! Damn his mind for playing tricks on him!

He couldn’t deny it any longer. The unseen force, the subconscious pull that drew him towards the nerd who offered a guaranteed safe haven. A man that has always had his back. ‘Damn racoon eyes,’ he would have been happier to be oblivious because now that the truth was settling in, he was forced to face the emotions Midoriya stirred inside him. The blonde pulls his knees up and rests his arms and head to shut out the world. In the distance, the Sports Festival beckons for him to return, but he didn’t want to see anyone right now. At least in this way, he could feign taking a nap.

On the outside, Bakugou showed no emotion, just a man calmly resting beside a tree, but inside his heart was still raging. No matter how long he’d been sitting there, it refused to calm down. His body was warm, much hotter than it should be under the shade of a tree as hues of green dance in his mind.

Okay so fine, he and Midoriya were a great compliment for each other and when they sync up, their efforts were explosive. He couldn’t remember it all, but vague memories of their battle with Nine, plus what he’d been told about the incident were a perfect example of it.

‘Kacchan, you’re the only one I would have trusted with it, you know that, right? We’re really great together…’

The one thing he was sure of were the emotions he had felt watching his oldest friend almost die. It had lingered, memoryless until the gaps were filled in by others.

Heat once again rises, coloring his cheeks at the memory. Working with Midoriya certainly had been an adrenaline rush… then again, every time they teamed up brought those same rushes and sparks of energy, like the green lightning that snakes around his friend or the explosions he could unleash. What a powerful force they were… together. Bakugou shudders and wraps his arms tighter around his knees. For a man obsessed with power, who better a partner than one on par with him?

“Kacchan, are you okay?”

Bakugou stiffens, was his mind playing tricks on him again? He raises his head just enough to see the tips of Midoriya’s red shoes. “I’m fine,” he grumps without looking up for fear the blush on his cheeks were still visible. There were definitely sparks of something he wasn’t ready to acknowledge brewing.

Suddenly, he feels a warm weight rested against his back. He raises his head, turning it, and out of his periphery catches the tell-tale green hair. The nerd was sitting with his back against his! “What do you want damn it?! Isn’t it obvious I wanted to be alone!”

“I know,” Midoriya whispers under his breath. “I’m just gonna sit here quietly.”

The blonde rolls his eyes. Normally he’d snap, but for some reason the words refused to come out. “Fuck it, I should’a just went back to my room and…”

“Kacchan, I heard about the conversation… you know, back at the arena, and I’ve always wondered why you do that.”

“Pfft, I don’t know why, and I thought you were gonna be quiet?!”

“Sorry…”

“Tch.”

After a few uncomfortable moments, Bakugou clears his throat and in a low tone he asks his friend the question that’d been plaguing him. “After we got home from Nabu… what did you mean when you’d said we’re good together?”

Midoriya thinks back to that time, not remembering immediately what Bakugou was asking about. Nabu, Nine, the Shimano kids. When they’d returned home, he’d hoped that maybe their friendship would get significantly better, but things stayed relatively the same, just a little less of the yelling. Yes, there was that one conversation about him transferring his quirk to the blonde after the man had cornered him into telling him exactly what had occurred. It was the only thing he could think of to do at the time, and he’d been grateful Bakugou was the one there with him.

“I know you think I’m your rival and all, but just… maybe, I mean look at what we accomplished there when we teamed up? We flowed like water.” Midoriya’s voice grows quieter, “we balance each other out well and I think we’re good together.”

“Okay, I get that, so as just what, friends?”

“Well, yeah… I suppose. What else would we be?”

“Tch.” Bakugou shifts and places his hands on the ground, ready to push himself up. “Nothing, I guess.”

“Wait,” Midoriya reaches backward, placing his hand on his friends to stop him.

The blonde stiffens up further as his friend not only covers but squeezes his hand. “What is it Deku?”

“Besides friends…. what more would you want to be? Is that why you always sit by me?”

‘What! Maybe…’ More than friends? Oh, fucking hell. “It’s because…”

#bakudeku #bnha spoilers #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fanfiction #katsuki bakugou #Midoriya izuku #deku #kacchan #heroes rising mentioned inside #bakugou x midoriya #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya

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savannahsdrabbles · 4 years

Text

Ocean Song - Part Four

rating: PG summary: Marine biology student April O’Neil makes a startling discovery.

notes: 2.7k words. A03 link can be found here. Special thanks to @cloakedrabbitand @starfiretheninja for beta-reading! ALSO the first three chapters of this fic were basically written back in 2016 when I started the fic. So this chapter officially marks new content! :D

He awakens, head spinning and shaking with disorientation for what feels like the hundredth time in the past 24 hours.

Had it only been only a day? It felt like much longer. Without being able to check the sun, he wasn’t sure how much time was actually passing between bouts of unconsciousness; all he knew was that he had done this several times before. The dead weight of his limbs, the sloshing feeling in his stomach, and the way that the ground spun beneath him had started to feel almost routine.

Blinking heavily, he shook his head and then immediately clapped a palm to his mouth as his stomach rolled in protest. No – he couldn’t be sick here; the thin layer of sand underneath him was not nearly deep enough to bury waste, and he didn’t think he could mentally handle the addition of another strong smell in this already overwhelming environment. Better to wait it out.

The turtle sighed, pressing his forehead into the sand and keeping a palm clamped to his mouth as he slowly took stock. He was laying on his side in the corner of the clear prison, shell to the rest of the room and limbs curled as close to his chest as possible. The metal-cold-hard-rope was still clamped onto one of his legs, forcing him to twist his hips awkwardly so as to remain in this position. The taste of blood lingered in his mouth, making him wonder if he had bitten his tongue the last time he had been dragged into unconsciousness. Or perhaps They had done something to him? All he knew was that everything hurt to varying degree, the worst of which being his head. It felt as if someone had pried open his skull and molded his brain between their palms.

Once he felt certain that the meager contents of his stomach would remain in place, the turtle slowly eased into a sitting position with one side of his body pressed against the clear wall. The surface felt cool and slick on his skin, causing him to shiver as he cast weary eyes around the room.

His prison was still dimly lit this time, which was a blessing in some ways. He vaguely remembered waking up one of the first times, when the room had been flooded with harsh lighting that hurt his eyes and made him want to bury his head in the sand. The sensations were confusing – the sand was unnaturally coarse on his skin, the light above him did not give off any warmth, and everything was just wrong wrong wrong wrong.

There had been Humans in the room at that point – tall ones in white pelts that stared at him and used Spoken Human Words that he wasn’t conscious enough to understand. They’d kept their distance at first, slowly moving back and forth through his hazy vision while every cell in his body screamed at him to run. He had been so tired and confused at that point that he just wanted to close his eyes and go back to sleep, but then several of the Humans suddenly stepped forward and opened the wall nearest to him.

His mind had jolted fully awake at that point, though his body remained motionless on the ground. He remembered wanting to back away, chest heaving with panicked desperation as he begged his limbs to move beneath him. The Humans moved quickly and spoke in low voices, almost as if trying to soothe him before one reached out and pressed his head into the sand. He remembered trying to scream as they turned his face away from them, but the only sound he could manage was a high-pitched whine. He gasped in pain as several sharp objects were shoved into his shoulder and thigh, but within seconds the Humans drew back clutching containers of red liquid – his blood.

They returned and repeated the process several other times after that – sometimes when he was awake but too delirious to do much but lean away and whimper. Other times, they waited until another round of gas stole him from consciousness and then crept in. He only knew that something had happened based on the dull ache that ran up and down both arms and the foul scent of Human clinging to his skin.

After the fourth or fifth time – or maybe it had been more? – he began to question whether this was it. Father had always warned him and Brothers to fear Humans, saying that they would likely be killed on sight if caught. Was that what was going to happen next? Was this how he was going to spend whatever was left of his life? Trapped in a small, cold box and being repeatedly gassed and poked and prodded by the creatures he had been raised to fear? And what of Small Brother – was he trapped elsewhere in this prison, undergoing the same fate?

The last thought made his stomach violently roll again.

A small, whining keel had clawed its way up his throat as he wrapped sore arms around himself and started to rock, the metal-cold-hard-rope digging at the skin of his ankle with each movement. Small Brother gone. Brave Brother and Strong Brother gone. Water gone. Gone gone gone alone gone.

“He needs to be back in the ocean!” Red Girl’s voice suddenly floated through his cloudy mind. Yes, that was it.

He’d been angry at first, when he awoke to find her staring back at him. He’d gone against instinct and years of teaching when he had first spotted her, clearly in distress and tangling with a squid that seemed intent to make her his meal. Even Small Brother, with his always-happy-to-help attitude hesitated at the sight of a Human in what they’d always considered to be a safe place. But she was so small and scared, and it only took a moment before they leapt into action.

Had she returned to gloat at his capture? Or to finish him off?

Either way, the fear and anger became too much and he had panicked. He remembered crying out in Family Tongue as he beat on the wall, crying in pain, crying for his brothers, crying for anything that could get him out of this wretched place.

What he hadn’t expected was the equally scared and concerned reaction he received. Rather than reach in and take more of his blood or gawk like the other Humans, Red Girl’s face had creased in worry and she had backed up with palms in the air. Fear scent radiated from her, and he found himself stunned into momentary silence. She had had the same expression when tangling in the squid’s limbs, being trapped and slowly suffocated. She saw him as a threat.

And so he’d taken a chance – a last ditch effort to communicate that this time he was the one in need of rescuing.

She and Boy Human had seemed to understand, talking excitedly between each other in rapid tones that he had to concentrate to decipher. But then the sleeping gas had come again, and when he next woke, the room was empty.

The turtle rubbed at his eyes and inhaled slowly, forcing his body to relax. How long ago had that been? There was no sun or moon here, so he wasn’t even sure how long he had been asleep this time. But they had said that they would help him get home, right? So they had to be coming back eventually.

At least now he knew that Small Brother was safe. The simple knowledge of this lifted weight off of his shoulders and made it easier to breathe. If he couldn’t find a way home, at least his family wouldn’t be losing two Brothers – they’d already had to deal with the loss of Father many moons before.

Voices from outside of his prison suddenly wove their way into his thoughts, and the turtle perked up. Was that them? Had Girl and Boy come back for him?

“Here here! You come back!” he clicked, excitement too great to bother translating into Spoken Human Words. Forcing himself to ignore the dizziness that still clouded his mind, he pulled himself to his knees and beat on the wall eagerly. Across the room, the door handle jiggled and he heard a beep. “You come back help Clever Brother help go back to ocean Home-”

Then the door swung open, and in stepped a red-furred human… but not Red Girl.

***

“It’s bigger than I thought.”

Dr. O’Neil nodded nervously, his eyes focusing first on the turtle and then back at the two solidly built men standing behind him. Between them and the wild animal in the room, he couldn’t help but feel more comfortable with the animal. Muscular arms peeked out from under t-shirts bearing “Oroku Inc.” nametags, signifying the men as “Anton” and “Ivan”. Across the room, the creature barked nervously, dropping to its rear end and scuttling to the far end of the glass containment. “Actually, that’s another interesting detail! Based on the blood tests that we ran, the specimen appears to have DNA most similar to that of a loggerhead turtle, which typically grow to be approximately three feet in length and between 250-300 pounds. Upon arrival, we measured him as being four foot ten inches and 219 pounds – which is significantly longer than most loggerheads, but not proportionally heavier. I would love to be there for the study and dissection – I’m assuming his bones are thinner in order to compensate for his length and allow easier navigation –”

The taller of the men – a lanky black character apparently named Anton - raised a hand to cut Kirby off as he began to speak. He spoke in cool, lilted English with a slight Japanese accent hiding behind his words. “Yes, I’m sure Dr. Stockman and the boss will be grateful to know that he was in such great hands. As I’m sure you can tell by our early arrival, they’re eagerly awaiting him back at the lab.”

Kirby nodded, blushing lightly. “Of course, my apologies. It’s just not every day you see a creature such as this – I’m sure that you understand. Our team has been buzzing since we discovered him out in the bay.”

“I’m sure,” Anton nodded again, though his half-lidded eyes betrayed a genuine lack of interest. Across the room, the turtle let out a shuddering breath. “Speaking of which, I assume that you recorded the coordinates where he was located?”

“Yes, of course.” The redheaded scientist turned a page on his clipboard and tapped it in affirmation. “All of our findings and details about the retrieval were transmitted earlier today, so Dr. Stockman should be able to access everything we know.”

“Excellent.” The laboratory assistants turned to each other, speaking in Japanese for a moment while Kirby awkwardly toyed at the edges of his paperwork and cursed his lacking language skills. When they turned back around, the shorter man spoke up in a thick Russian accent.

“Should he not be sedated? The boss said that there could be a risk of violence, and that he didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Yes, well, um,” Kirby glanced back down at his notes nervously. “We’ve attempted to keep him sedated throughout the day by administering doses of sevoflurane, but his body has been burning through the medication at an unprecedented rate. Until more is known about his biology, I’m extremely hesitant to consider administering such heavy doses – they could have adverse effects on liver function, cause neurotoxicity –”

“Relax, Dr. O’Neil,” Anton interrupted, a smirk tugging at his lips. “The good doctor sent us with a back up, just in case we ran into any issues. Care to illustrate, Ivan?”

Ivan grunted as he reached into his uniform pocket and withdrew a small, circular device that made Kirby gasp.

“Wait – is that a shock collar? I – well, I really don’t think that’s a good idea -”

“It is… similar,” Ivan interjected. He was more hesitant as he spoke, taking several seconds to weigh his words before speaking them. With careful hands, he lifted a latch on the side of the collar and pressed to adjust its size. Once he seemed satisfied that the circumference was about as big around as the turtle’s neck, the man reached back into his pocket and retrieved a small egg-shaped remote, then simultaneously pressed a button on each piece. Several high-pitched beeps echoed through the room, followed by a low buzzing sound. “The boss had Dr. Stockman create this in order to induce temporary paralysis on larger creatures. As long as the device is activated, the wearer will remain conscious, but unable to move. It makes transportation much easier, as well as helps with certain studies. I shall show you.”

The two lab assistants stepped towards the cage in unison, eliciting another bark of fear from the turtle, and pulled open the door. The creature yelped as the men closed in, throwing out his arms in protest and letting out a warning snarl that sent chills down Kirby’s spine. Before he had a chance to advise them to retreat, both men stepped into the cage and then leapt back, Ivan shaking his hand and cursing in Japanese. “You little monster – he bit me!”

Anton surged forward, using one leg to brace himself and the other to deliver a swift kick to the center of the turtle’s plastron. The creature gasped, falling heavily back onto his carapace and stirring up a cloud of sand as Anton continued to firmly press into his chest. The turtle snarled in frustration, arms desperately alternating between tearing at the thick fabric of Anton’s pants and trying to keep Ivan’s reaching arms at bay. “Come on now, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Gentlemen –!”

Before the turtle could do any serious damage, Ivan lunged forward and snapped the collar around their prey’s neck. The turtle let out a panicked yelp and bit down again, this time sinking gapped teeth into the nearest hand and locking his jaw.

“Yeaugh!” the Russian man bellowed and shook the injured arm in pain, causing the turtle’s head to whip violently back and forth but refusing to release his hold. “Anton – get it off of me!”

“Give me that –” the black man lunged forward and snatched the remote from his partner’s flailing hands. With one push of a button, the turtle suddenly went slack and dropped limply to the ground beneath them. His eyes remained wide open, darting around in confusion.

“Stupid beast,” Ivan growled and kicked at the turtle’s side, eliciting a yelp but nothing else. His hand was already oozing blood, which steadily dripped down onto the turtle’s motionless form. “I’ll make sure that they don’t give you anesthesia, just for that. Or maybe I can just take care of you myself on the way over – how do you like the taste of lead?”

“I doubt he has any idea what you’re saying,” Anton rolled his eyes, then turned to Kirby. “Where’s the loading cart that you brought him in with?”

“Now wait – hold on just one second,” the scientist shook his head, brows furrowed as took a step towards the men. “This is all wrong – I understand that you gentlemen have a job to do and I’m sure you’re lovely people, but as a biologist it is my responsibility to ensure that each and every creature we work with is treated with the utmost dignity and respect. As such, I can’t just let the two of you waltz in here and –”

Kirby suddenly felt something press against his chest and stopped short, his breath hitching in his throat.

“I don’t think you understand, Old Man,” Anton pressed the barrel of his gun forcefully into Kirby’s chest and growled. “Our boss wants this creature more than life itself and has already paid you more than you are worth for it, so we will continue to do with it exactly as we please. Now,” he jerked his head and Ivan roughly grabbed the paralyzed creature under its arms. “Are you going to help us get it into the van, or what?”

Next Chapter!

#rottmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #fanfiction #tmnt fanfiction #nickelodeon #savannah drabbles #sea turtles au

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hanniderys · 4 years

Text

RE-WRITE HANNIBAL'S FINALE (SEASON 2)

02x13.

Murderer family.

Hannibal's inquiring gaze scanned Will's presence in the kitchen. He adjusted his glasses, with a serious expression as he always used to have. And still, he could feel the nerves through his body movements.

"... Then would you like it marinated in wine?"

"I suppose. I am not used to these dishes to decide. I leave it to your hands, I know it will be... Exquisite."

Hannibal put his clasped hands on the table. His posture was perfect, his hair well organized and his outfit impeccable. He had a white shirt, a brown vest, and a red tie that stood out the most. His usually expressionless countenance changed for a few moments with a slow smile that expanded slightly. His dark eyes examined the opposite, he was proud to know that Will would not hand him over. For a few moments the past few days he really worried that he would hand him over to Jack Crawford, he had even discovered that Freddie had not been killed and he was very hurt, but events had changed. Dr. Lecter always knows everything. With his usual calm attitude and voice he spoke to him.

"Don't worry, it will be for his good, he is a threat and with him in the middle you would not be able to change. You need him, and he needs you."

Hannibal got up from the seat, adjusted his beige jacket and walked calmly towards to the front door. His heart was pounding calmly, and his humour were better than ever. His plan had paid off, Will was already on his side and he could surprise him with Abigail when it was all over. He looked at his watch on his wrist before turning the knob and open the door, he received Jack. He already knew about him. He was aware of the whole situation, but after meditating and planning it meticulously he decided to knock him unconscious right there, with his own hands so that Will could become... What he had wished for so long, for his sake.

"Ah, Jack, welcome. Come in."

He stepped aside so that the opponent could enter. He was looking for clues, clues at a glance but it was something he would not find. Not anymore.

"It smells delicious, Dr. Lecter..." The agent smirked, pretending that everything was fine. And likewise, Hannibal gave him a cordial smile and a small nod. "Will has not arrived?"

"I'm afraid not, but it shouldn't take long."

After closing the door, their footsteps echoed throughout the space. Vide Cor Meum sounded in the background, and yet the footsteps seemed to sound louder. Hanninal walked in front of Jack and went to the table where a wooden base for chopping vegetables rested, and these at half work. He took the apron on the chair and put it on after taking off his suit. His expressionless gaze went to Jack as he picked up the knife and resumed the task.

"Today we will eat heart with pan-fried and gremolata. Marinated and grill in the style of Peruvian anticuchos. I practiced this recipe yesterday, in order to offer you the best."

"As usual."

They both smiled, but neither honestly. The tension could be cut with a knife, and it was what Hannibal intended to do. He left the knife on top of the bowl where he was placing the cut vegetables, listening to Jack.

"Will called me yesterday, and said a few things about the Chasepeak Ripper case. It is something that he has not stopped looking, and I appreciate it. Ever since the whole thing was focused on Abel Gideon it has been put aside a bit."

Dr. Lecter's relaxed movements had Jack's alerts on. Hannibal moved freely in the kitchen and took a bottle of wine, which he had in a bucket with ice, not so far, and he reached for two glasses.

"I'm glad, Jack. If they do catch the Chasepeak Ripper many clues would come to light."

His voice was unaffected in the least. He was actually expecting that comment. He knew what Will had told him. All of his lines had been intervened by him, and he had listened to all of his calls. He poured the wine with his usual elegance and held out a glass to Jack, who took it and raised it in a small, silent toast. Hannibal took a sip from his glass. The sweet taste of the wine was welcomed by its trained taste buds. He tasted the fermented grapes, stuck his tongue to the palate, and made the movement to snap his tongue, only without sound. His thin lips pursed slightly and he sighed. It would be perfect with the heart. He set the glass down next to him and went back to his task of cutting the vegetables.

"How's Bella, Jack?"

The aforementioned kept a small silence, and Hannibal raised his eyes a few seconds to look at him, inquisitive, but did not insist. The man sighed and put one of his hands in his pocket, Hannibal kept his senses alert.

“Good. This chemotherapy thing is... Difficult.”

“I'm sure it is. I would have liked to ask her about her process myself but since the last time it was clear to me not to approach.”

The conversation had taken on a dark, acid tone. The smell of rot and death almost invaded Dr. Lecter's kitchen and before that happened, he had to take action. He reached his glass and taking a sip of the delicious and fine wine he took the handle of the knife. It all happened in seconds. Jack made a move to pull the pistol out of his waistband and Hannibal threw the knife from his position, driving it into his arm. The cup fell to the ground breaking into a thousand pieces. Hannibal moved nimbly as Jack gave a roar of pain and blood ran down his arm. Jack took out the knife which Hannibal had thrown and he jumped on top of Jack and both fell to the ground. Hannibal's shirt and vest were stained with Jack's blood, but that was the least important to Dr. Lecter now. With his good arm, Jack took Hannibal by the neck and kept him away. Hannibal brought his two hands together into a fist, lifted them up and hit his inner elbow with the force he could obtain in that fraction of seconds, looking for the grip to fail, and so it happened. He inhaled the missing air and felt a blow to his right cheek. He groaned, feeling the familiar metallic taste in his mouth, and gave him a quick smack on the face as well. Jack grabbed his shirt and tossed him aside, Hannibal slipped with the blood on the floor and fell onto his back.

His hair was tousled, and he was stained with blood everywhere. Jack got up (not as agilely as Hannibal) with the knife in hand. Hannibal propelled himself towards Jack. His knife skill was almost lacking compared to Dr. Lecter. He avoided Jack's movement, but felt a cut on his rib and on his shoulder. The pain that was gradually becoming present did not confuse him, it was concentrated in his attacker. He cursed in his mind and felt Jack grab him by the hair and slammed his face against the refrigerator. He lost his senses for a few seconds, and he felt one of his teeth go limp. He reached up and hit Jack with his elbow on his stomach, knocking the air out of him and causing him to drop the knife. He quickly tuged off his own tie. He seized that opportunity and stood behind the man, tie in hand, and wrapped it around his neck. He pulled hard, trying to make him lose consciousness. He clenched his teeth, feeling the palpable pain in his mouth, but the adrenaline had entertained him. Jack's hands reached back but he couldn't reach Dr. Lecter. Jack fell to the ground and Hannibal sat on his back, and with a precise movement he hit his head on the ground and knocked him unconscious, finishing his work.

He frowned, looking wild and out of control. He moved his tongue into his mouth and getting up, disoriented, he spat the loose tooth into his hand. He took off his apron and tossed it on the counter, looking for the missing air. He had had better fights.

He bent down and pulled Jack by his feet and led him into the dining room, where he sat him in one of the chairs and tied him up. He wobbled a bit, but it was no big deal. He walked calmly towards his room and there he found Will looking at the floor.

"Are you ready?"

He looked up and barely looked into Hannibal's eyes for a few seconds before looking away. He was anxious, and Hannibal could see it. Will took off his glasses and put them on the bed.

"How could I not be?"

He combed his hair back, and stood up. Hannibal's eyes followed him, with an unknown brightness. He walked ahead and went to the dining room, with silent steps and Dr. Lecter's bloody face on his mind. As soon as the noise had started he was tempted to leave the room and help Hannibal, but Hannibal's words were precise. "Don't leave the room, don't make noise. I'll take care of it." His fingers hid in the pockets of his dark jeans, feeling his disorganized hair brush against his neck in a constant reminder of the end he was heading for. He had many doubts, many fears and he was intimidated but he trusted Hannibal, and he knew that he only wanted the best for him... For both of them. In silence he looked at the body of Jack Crawford unconscious in one of the dining room chairs, and his lips trembled. Not out of fear, but because of the magnitude of it all. He hadn't killed Freddie, he hadn't taken that step yet, and a few days ago he really didn't consider taking it but changed his mind thanks to Hanninal. He put his fingers to the bridge of his nose, feeling one of the other's hands on his shoulder.

"This is the best decision. What I plan to give you is much further. ” he felt the closeness, and the foreign breath against his ear. "You will feel overwhelmed, but what you will receive in return will be a reward. You will become what I have wanted for you for so long."

And he stepped back, giving him freedom to do what he wanted to do.

Will felt everything in slow motion, took a few strides, and stepped in front of Jack, taking the knife. He took a breath when he realized that the opponent was coming to his senses. Her heart was pounding and his hand gripped the handle of the knife. He gave Hannibal one last look, and as he turned his eyes forward, he found another pair of dark eyes that stared at him with a mixture of confusion, fear and rage.

"Will, what are y-...?"

And he stuck the knife in the middle of his chest.

A scream erupted from his throat but sooner than later Hannibal tucked in his mouth a ball of fabric to silence his screams. There was nothing better than listening to them, but he couldn't risk. He would offer the complete version to Will... Later. His eyes widened more than necessary and a tickle shuddered him from head to toe as he saw Will pull the handle down, opening Jack's chest and splashing blood all over his face and clothes, losing control. Perhaps...? Slowly a smile crossed his lips and he saw Will reach into the chest of the still alive Jack Crawford (not for long) and cut his heart out. Breathing caught in his throat and he was satisfied.

One last gasp from Jack and his head fell limp to the side. Will with his heart in his hand looked at him, feeling the adrenaline all over his being and fell sitting on the ground, trembling. Hannibal squatted beside him, stroking his hair. Will was ecstatic, complete, changed. He had... Ascended. The warm muscle in his hand distracted him for a while, but eventually his eyes rose, full of life to Hannibal. He looked at him with... Pride, and happiness.

"This is all I want for you... For you, for us."

Hannibal took the heart in his hands and stood up, held out one of them, and helped Will up. When he released him, he walked towards the kitchen and did the corresponding procedure with the dish to be prepared and left the heart marinating. He did all of this by feeling Will's gaze on him, and giving him time to process what he had just done.

"Do you want some wine?"

He offered to walk to the counter where the bottle was, took it and poured it into clean glasses and handed Will one. He held his up, unable to hide his happiness, and not through a smile, but through his wild and bright eyes.

“For our future together.”

A smile finally appeared on Will's lips and he looked straight into his eyes, still not caring about being full of blood and staining the glass.

“For us.”

And drank from the sweet liquid. Hannibal stared at him for a few minutes and made a decided brow movement. He put his glass down on the counter and went to the kitchen exit.

"I have a surprise, wait here for a few minutes, please."

Will looked at the mess in the kitchen in more detail and his condition allowed him to experience what had just happened there, and it was hard to tell, but he didn't feel bad for Jack. He looked at the tooth of what he thought was Hannibal's on the ground and drank from his glass again.

Footsteps were present and he put the glass on the counter and turned towards the entrance to the kitchen. His face turned expressionless and paled, he thought it was a hallucination, or that he was daydreaming.

"What...?"

"Will."

He looked at Hannibal, who had just called him as a way of saying "this is reality" and looked back at Abigail. He got up from his chair and tried to say something but couldn't.

"Abigail Hobbs is..."

"Alive. I kept her alive for you."

"Hannibal..."

He got up, still looking at Abigail because he felt that she might disappear. She smiled at him and approached slowly.

"You're good. I... I'm sorry, Abigail. I scared you, I thought I hurt you, I... I'm not your father, but you worry me. I care about you."

The tears in Abigail's eyes were honest, and she hugged Will happily. She hid her face against his neck, staining himself with blood and caring little about it.

"Everything is fine. Hannibal took care of me, we were very careful. Let's all disappear together, we plan it. We'll be fine."

"It will be now."

He smiled and took her face in his hands. He could not believe it. A desperate laugh erupted from him and he hugged her again.

"Well, it's time to make the food. You both can catch up on while I do the celebration dish."

Dr. Lecter smiled subtly at them and went to the kitchen to cook Jack Crawford's heart.

***

"It is very delicious."

"Heart marinated and grill in the style of Peruvian anticuchos... It's never a miss."

Will smiled at Hannibal as he took another bite from the beautifully prepared and decorated dish. He looked at the end of the table and observed Jack lifeless body still tied to the chair.

"Couldn't his body be put elsewhere?" Asked Abigail, who hardly looked at Jack's body.

"He is our guest of honor, Abigail. Thanks to him Will Graham was able to evolve. Improve, become. Must be in the honor chair."

"Hm."

And they continued to eat, Hannibal with a small satisfied smile, Will serious but calm (deadly calm despite everything that was happening) and Abigail a little overwhelmed but happy.

After eating the dessert, Will got up from his chair and took his plate and the others' to the dishwasher. As he walked toward the guest room, he watched Hannibal speak to Abigail, with an attitude he had never seen before. It was something new, it was unknown territory and he didn't know how to behave. Hannibal practically glowed. As he entered the room he looked at his suitcase and grabbed it, taking a change of clothes. He looked at the watch on his wrist, it was two hours before his flight to Florence. He went to the guest bathroom and took a shower there, just as Hannibal had instructed him a few hours ago when he arrived. When he came out, he was wearing black dress pants, and a white shirt, he put on some loafers and with gel he combed his hair almost perfectly, backwards. Putting on his glasses, he went out with his suitcase in his hand to Hannibal's living room. Abigail was there, already clean. Footsteps behind him made him turn and he pursed his lips in a sideways smile towards Dr. Lecter, who was impeccable, as if nothing had happened.

"Are we ready?"

"Ready to go. The family is together again," Abigail said with a small smile, and walked out the door with her suitcase.

Inside were Hannibal, Will, and two bags with what he supposed to be corpses. He was barely noticing the smell of gasoline.

"Give me your ID" he asked cordially.

Will gave it to him, and Hannibal threw his as well.

"You'll...?"

"Yes, Will."

Taking a match, he lit it and dropped it to the ground, and after that he took his suitcase and walked, expressionless to the entrance. The corpses were nothing more than a distraction, he wanted time and not to be sought immediately after putting out the fire. Will took his suitcase and watched the fire burn for a few seconds. He went behind Hannibal and called out to him, feeling the heat of the flames a few meters away, which were just beginning their red and deadly dance.

"Dr. Lecter."

The aforementioned turned and looked at him over his shoulder. Will took one of his cheeks and joined his lips with the others, in a soft and short kiss.

"This is all I want for us."

And so, with the fire burning behind them they smiled knowingly and left Hannibal Lecter's house behind to finally become and ascend together.

#Hannibal #Will Graham #Hannigram #Hannigram fanart #Abigail Hobbs #Jack Crawford #Freddie Lounds #Murderer Family #Psychopath #Gay #Gay Love #Murder #Action #Fanfic #Fic #RE-WRITE

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jalebi-weds-bluetooth · 4 years

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Arnav & Lavanya - An Imbalanced Relationship

This post is influenced and dedicated to @acroakingbird‘s post to me about Arnav & Lavanya.

Let’s answer a few questions first. Warning: this is a LOOONG post!

Did Arnav and Lavanya have a great relationship?

No. I thought carefully about this and as you have highlighted - it was not a healthy relationship. There was a severe power imbalance in the relationship (even if Lavanya was well off and her own person), Arnav was dominant in ways that often influenced Lavanya to do things that inconvenienced her but she was alright with it because she knew it would keep Arnav happy.

In the beginning, of course there is a great chemistry between him and Lavanya. You get a sense that their relationship blossomed from friendship as she’s well aware of his tastes and he gives her soft, small smiles that he doesn’t give anyone else.

And he even finds it easy to shift his growing attraction to Khushi to Lavanya (such as when Lavanya plays with his tie post the red saree incident, he almost holds a similar amount of intensity while staring at Lavanya that clearly says everything, or when Arnav checks out Lavanya in her white saree and is appreciative of what he sees - but is left speechless on seeing Khushi in a saree because he had not expected to feel what he does).

Arnav indulges Lavanya, is protective of her when his family goes crazy to traditionalize her, and is respectful of her privacy. Yet the easy, friendly banter of theirs quickly disappears the more serious their relationship gets. In short, the cracks become visible.

One scene about Lavanya that has always baffled me is how quick Lavanya is to jump into the boat of getting married to ASR when Khushi scares her about the idea that a live-in relationship does not provide permanence. Khushi is so childish and the imagination is laughable.

However Khushi, unintentionally, taps Lavanya’s fear of ASR leaving her. I think Lavanya already thought long about ASR’s stand on marriage with her and it’s not really Nani’s words or Khushi’s ideas that frightens her. She knows ASR and is puzzled that them living in the same house seems to be driving them away instead of bringing them closer.

In her massive argument with ASR (when she’s dressed as a bride), the questions she asks ASR on whether he loves her, her refusal to search for his feelings through his vague actions - all reflect a deeper conflict she’s been facing for months together. Khushi kind of pushes Lavanya to a conclusion she didn’t want to arrive.

Arnav and Lavanya though, don’t have the best relationship. Arnav always get his say, is rude and hurtful to Lavanya. They seem to get close when he wants to. There’s nothing jarringly wrong about their relationship - but the issues are visible long before Khushi even settles into Arnav’s mind. Lavanya is quick to appease him and fears his anger. She apologizes when it’s not necessary and is a ‘yes man’ to him.

Arnav’s best attitude towards Lavanya emerges when he is honest about his feelings for her. The change is immediate. He’s softer, kinder, considerate and immensely protective. I think he thought they would ideal together given she shares a similar school of thought, but unfortunately that didn’t work. In these rare moments we see that Arnav and Lavanya shared a deep friendship which Arnav pursued for convenience and Lavanya for love.

There are an excellent example of two people who should have remained friends.

Arnav craves control over his emotions - especially in a relationship - and the way he exerted it over Lavanya often bordered on troubling. While Arnav and Khushi almost reveled in the constant push and pull of the power play between them, Lavanya was almost always submissive and suffered from his anger.

Honestly, if Lavanya was truly happy and content in her relationship she would not keep on seeking constant reassurance. She feels the need to tell him that she sees love in his vaguest gestures (such as gifting a bag, and you wonder if she’s telling that to herself), and later goes into denial when she realizes he’s getting engaged to her for other reasons.

She does not want to verbalize it till the end but we see Lavanya getting snappier at ASR during their engagement time. We can see it when Lavanya notices that ASR isn’t responding to her thoughts about their honeymoon. When he yells at her for choosing a dress that matches Khushi’s and she yells back. When she’s unsurprised with him taking Khushi’s name.

I think Lavanya also recognizes the issue their relationship has. More than once she mentions to Khushi that she isn’t like Khushi. That she can’t control, talk back nor stand her own in front of ASR. She realizes her self respect is getting hurt in her process of handling his family and being with ASR, but she does get back with him with his slightest effort.

This does not sound like a relationship that could last, and I do like the subtle ways this is highlighted - it makes Arnav and Lavanya’s relationship incredibly real without making anyone an outright villain.

Did Arnav cheat Lavanya?

You answered this pretty well in your post.

I feel like Arnav did cheat on Lavanya quite a number of times, emotionally and Diwali time included. Arnav and Lavanya were committed enough to be in a live in relationship and they both had feelings for another (Lavanya more than Arnav and I’m not saying they had the same intensity as between Arnav and Khushi.) At no point during that time was it okay for him to be attracted and have feelings for Khushi or lead on Lavanya because he didn’t want to deal with them. Frankly, it was disrespectful and cruel.

So as you’ve wonderfully laid out, even an emotional affair is considered cheating. But here comes another question -

Can you control attraction?

No. Unfortunately, no.

Did Arnav & Khushi have an emotional affair?

Yes and no. I don’t think they realized how integral they were to the other emotionally or that how emotionally dependent they were on each other. They never spoke about Lavanya, their emotions or their engagements.

Each time they were upset or that they questioned each other, it was solely based on hints and on their own experience with the other person.

Khushi has no idea how much Arnav needed someone to talk to when he misses his mother. But she stays with him because his sadness hurts her, and he asks her to stay because she is the only one who can connect with the emptiness he feels.

Arnav has no idea how much Khushi needs a pillar of support and a confidante, when her father is paralyzed. How much she needs a shoulder where she can be a frightened child and not a responsible adult. He is unable to hug her when Khushi finally vents her emotions to the only person who can be brutally honest with her. She later runs away, again, confused at why she chose to hug him.

It’s the fact that they always just don’t know. If you carefully see, up until Akash and Payal’s wedding (and then up until their hug at the warehouse when Arnav’s kidnapped), either Khushi, Arnav, or both are confused as to why they are drawn to each other. It’s their awareness but lack of understanding that makes this question difficult to answer.

It’s what makes them better human beings but terrible decision makers.

Should he have been honest with Lavanya?

Yes, but on what basis.

How do I say, he isn’t one to end a perfectly convenient relationship because he is physically attracted and emotionally enamored by a woman who is the exact opposite from him. His feelings, emotions - that he refuses to acknowledge - exist in his hidden thoughts (a lot of time it’s when he’s in his bed). Khushi is almost... a fantasy.

And Arnav is not one to break a secure, safe relationship for a flight of imagination/fantasy. It’s not even a comfortable fantasy. He’s almost always bothered, irritated or confused by it. He only begins smiling while thinking about her during Akash and Payal’s wedding.

Did Arnav realize he was cheating Lavanya?

No, not until the day he takes Khushi’s name instead of Lavanya’s while trying to apologize to Lavanya. I know, it sounds like a stretch to the extent his denial ran - but that’s what denial is.

Arnav is a man of action, not words. His morality is also ambiguous - and he isn’t shy about that. The little he speaks, it’s carefully measured and thought out. He is someone who blatantly ignores the existence of emotions. Arnav knew he was physically attracted to Khushi. But -

- could he start a relationship with Khushi?

No, it took forever for Arnav to realize that he could actually live a life with Khushi. For a long time I think he believed that Khushi was a passing phase. Khushi was almost always fainted or asleep when he pushed away a strand of hair, held her cheek - unveiling his deepest darkest desire.

Yet, as far living together and reality was concerned, he pretty much believed that Lavanya would be ideal. A relationship with Khushi was impractical. He recognizes lust alright, but also does not expect more from it. Unlike Khushi who begins to dream of their married life once she gets a serious hint on what is her feelings for Arnav, Arnav never dreams of a future with Khushi.

He begins to grow emotionally more attached to Khushi once he learns about the death of her parents and realizes that she is an inherently strong, independent and a good human being. There’s no facade to her goodness. It’s when he actively begins to seek her when he realizes they’re more similar. He begins to see her as his equal. Here, I think, it becomes grey. I don’t think he realizes the end result of his growing emotional and physical connection to Khushi.

The Diwali is a shocker to him. He sees it as a moment he succumbed to the fantasies he had had about Khushi and hence, almost turned out to be like his father.

Arnav getting shocked, angry, numb and scared when his family plans his wedding with Lavanya is the beginning of a wake up process where Arnav is forced to understand the consequences of the commitment he promised to Lavanya.

The episodes following the Diwali - he’s technically horrid to Khushi and Lavanya. He’s stringing both of them and he does not realize that until Lavanya literally reminds him. His and Lavanya’s relationship was also a way for Arnav to prove himself to his overbearing grandmother - he couldn’t and wouldn’t break up with Lavanya until he knew, for certain, that he wasn’t in the right place. Which is why he avoided bringing Lavanya over initially, until his ego got involved.

Khushi’s engagement pulls him out of his stupor because he realizes that he could have made it work... perhaps the other man is not who he wants Khushi to be with.

I don’t think he even imagined marrying Khushi until she is engaged to Snakewa. Then he constantly puts himself as a better choice than her fiancé and almost pushes her to acknowledge that he can fulfill all her desires; materialistic, emotional and physical.

Morally, this is incorrect. He, again, does not realize the consequences of his actions. He is seeking reassurance from Khushi to be able to justify and probably end his and Lavanya’s relationship.

There’s a difference between awareness and acknowledgement. The day he acknowledges what he feels for Khushi, is the day he immediately breaks up with Lavanya because he understands the depth of what is between him and Khushi, and almost instantly realizes that he has been stringing Lavanya to get a confession out of Khushi.

It’s the day he stops all his mind games with Khushi. He doesn’t press her further for questions. His only focus is with Lavanya, and he spends the next two days trying to rectify all his mistakes. His breakup with Lavanya is less about his feelings for Khushi and more about his dishonesty.

Arnav never fails to apologize when he realizes he has truly erred.

Also, he can never tell anyone what’s the reason for his breakup because he still has no idea if he and Khushi can actually ever be together. In his eyes he knows Khushi is marrying someone else. And Arnav would very well wallow in his own anguish and not be with another because he knew he wouldn’t be honest.

Arnav has no idea that Khushi reciprocates his feelings completely and refused to get engaged in the beginning because of what she feels for him. He only has a hint but stops pursuing that once he sees how he has hurt Lavanya in that process.

He realizes he has always put Khushi before Lavanya and might continue to do so for the rest of his life.

In short, in episode 142 he realizes he has been dishonest with Lavanya because he comes to a complete realization of his feelings for Khushi. Until then, naively, Arnav & Khushi feel that their engagement to other people would put a full stop to their emotions as they both firmly believe in the institution of marriage. Instead, it does the opposite. Khushi grows increasingly uncomfortable with her fiancé and Arnav grows immensely detached.

Yes, his actions and decisions are more questionable than Khushi’s and it could be called cheating (especially during this phase) but I think it’s more dishonesty because Khushi is never an active participant. It takes two to tango and Arnav really isn’t thinking at this point - if they accidentally kissed or hugged or even confided in each other, he would’ve immediately broken up with Lavanya, which he does in episode 142.

He realizes that the attraction has grown into something permanent and serious, irrespective of the fact that he and Khushi can’t be together. He can’t and won’t give a name to the attraction because he does not want to be like his father. It’s more of Arnav realizing he has been dishonest to Lavanya. It’s the realization that he will put Khushi before anyone else.

Had he continued his pursuit of Khushi and faked happiness and commitment to Lavanya post this realization, it would have been easier for me to judge him more harshly.

Also, the audience, as in us, are the only people who are seeing that Arnav and Khushi think about, care and love each other in equal measure. Arnav and Khushi almost always believe they are impossible apart from a few hints. They are always in the dark about the other person.

Arnav and Khushi realize, openly flirt and admit their feelings to each other, unfortunately, on the day of their forced marriage. It’s the first time they have a smiling Rabba Ve with each other without any confusion/questions - they both know they’re in love (it’s the morning when Arnav notices her cooking for the relatives, sees that she can sense his presence, and she chooses the saree he recommends).

#ipkknd #acroakingbird #Arnav Singh Raizada #khushi kumari gupta #lavanya kashyap #thought

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alightwhendarknessfell · 4 years

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Let’s Talk

I’ve thought a lot about the situation concerning Ashley/Black Veil and the greater issues at hand here over the past few days. I’ve also spoken with a lot of people about things.

Personally, this situation has turned into something that is causing myself to lose sleep and become very anxious. The likelihood that Ashley actually gets formally reprimanded for his actions is low just based on how cases like this typically go, and it’s quite clear that while people now know the type of person he is and that his career in music is over, those who still support him will continue no matter what. He will more than likely dwindle into irrelevancy and probably end up in jail for drinking and driving eventually.

I have personally witnessed how this has affected the people involved, some of which are even close friends of mine. I believe that Twitter is great for some things, and catching people’s attention and spreading information is one of those things, but it can also be an incredibly toxic place. As a victim of sexual assault myself I feel for every one of the victims and fighting with people every day on Twitter who are willing to go to disgusting lengths to defend monsters like Ashley is exhausting. In my personal opinion at this point I believe people’s mental health is being harmed by the back and forth (not speaking for everyone, but I have personally seen how this is affecting people’s lives). And I don’t know how much more good can come from more Twitter arguments.

With my MCAT approaching I need to get myself in the right head space and jumping every time my phone goes off because is it someone attacking me? Is it another victim? Is it someone in pain? That’s not a good head space. I also see the conversation at times going in a direction that I am not comfortable with or that I do not have enough information to put myself in.

I do not want to out victims or people that do not want to have their story out there. I do not want to hunt down people and make them relive their trauma or pressure them to speak when doing so could cause a significant disruption to their lives. I’m not saying that is what is happening but I just don’t want it to A) come off that way or B) become that. In addition to that, it is very clear from a legal standpoint that Black Veil cannot say what people want them to say without breaking the NDA (at the benefit of Ashley). Ashley has retreated to his subscription only accounts and so that kind of leaves everyone at a stand still. This situation is incredibly complicated and perhaps in time there can be a conversation had but I just don’t think that time is right now.

Speaking broadly, I will say that I am not for the cancellation of entire groups of people based of the actions of one person. I believe doing so can bring down innocent people or even potentially other victims. Should there be some punishment for succumbing to the bystander effect? I think that is fair, I think you can’t make blanket one size fits all statements but inaction can hurt too. And I think you should try and gather as many facts before deciding on any form of punishment for actions or inaction. Should you give people the chance to own up to their shortcomings and change for the better? I think so. Should inaction receive the same punishment as actions? I don’t think so, I think doing so allows the truly evil to fade into the background and minimizes their actions.

I want to see significant change in the music industry with not only more protection for fans but for musicians as well. I see young kids, sometimes not even 18 thrown into an industry that has a habit of making monsters and addicts. The amount of leeches that feed and prey on these young musicians and don’t give a second thought to if that harms them is a big issue. Stop normalizing alcoholism and addiction. Stop watching your bandmate drink themself into a blackout every night. Don’t create situations where a power dynamic allows people to get away with criminal actions. Check your bandmate when they say or do problematic things. I think there’s been a culture of ‘everyone looks after themselves’ but that’s clearly not working. I think if you are a band and you want to continue into the future that attitude has to change. The past can’t be changed, but the future sure as hell can.

Beyond that, fan safety needs to be a priority. COVID-19 will change concerts and live music. And honestly, good. There should be more sanitation precautions when you have thousands of people packed together. The Route 91 mass shooting changed security at shows, and good, people should be searched for weapons.

I think there are ideas that could prevent or reduce the situations in which sexual assault happens to fans. I think these should include things like ID scanners operated by individuals not employed by the band. No one under the age of 21 (unless they are direct family, significant other or a member of the band) be allowed on the buses. Venues need to do better ID-ing every single person that enters the venue. Tour managers and tour organizers need to do more to ensure that there are strict rules enforced as far as conduct. There needs to be a zero tolerance policy for giving alcohol/drugs to people underage and sexual misconduct. That will not prevent everything but it will make it safer and hopefully start to change the culture.

I do not believe that every single musician is a pedophile. I think there is a disturbing number of them and I think there is another group that gets off on the power dynamic of 16-18 year old girls who worship them and that ability to control. I think there are decent people who have failed to speak out and protect their fans due to fear of their job/reputation/etc and this should serve as a notice that that’s got to change.

This conversation tends to be very female centric but men can also be sexually abused. That’s not okay either. Band members can be sexually harassed and abused as well. It’s not okay to grab at them on stage or yell obscene disgusting things. It’s not okay for your bandmates to pressure you into drugs, sex or drinking. I will also say that physical violence is not okay. Not towards fans and not towards fellow bandmates. There’s a lot of toxicity and it’s all gotta stop.

I will leave it up to people to make their own choices as to who they want to support or not support, I won’t tell anyone what to think. I will say that I believe it is best for this discussion to change on my blog as far as answering asks assigning blame or innocence to certain people. I stand by my accusation that Ashley Purdy is not only a sexual predator but a predator in general. But going forward I will be very selective in my answering of or posting of this topic.

I am more than willing to continue the conversation of the issues in the alt-rock scene at large. I would love to hear people’s ideas on what can be done or just your thoughts. But for my own legal protection and sanity I would prefer that it not become specific to certain people/bands. I am open to private discussions about that and you can send in asks for only me to read but know I think this is the best move going forward. Obviously, other topics are all open and you can comment about anything else but it’s just... been a lot these past few days.

Obviously, if something new comes out or if future incidents occur (not necessarily concerning Black Veil/Ashley but any band/person/etc) there could be more specific discussions but while I might personally believe or think certain things if I don’t have physical evidence that I am free to share (without harming the source) I don’t think it’s fair for me to open up a free for all.

I hope that is okay with everyone. After my test and things in my life are back to a more ‘normal’ state I have further things I would like to discuss and post in regards to making my blog a more positive environment while of course still having conversations about ‘hot button’ issues, and a place where people can have discussions/comments and still speaking out when shit is fucked up. But perhaps in a way that doesn’t make me appear so hateful, because that is not who I am as a person.

That all being said, if you are at all struggling because of the discussions being had right now. Please reach out to someone. That could be a therapist, doctor, friend, family member, counselor, etc. If you are dealing with trauma please consider seeking counseling to help you process and deal with what happened. If you feel you have evidence of criminal activity I encourage you to make a police statement or at least document it the best you can.

I will end with this. I turn 25 this year and the past year of my life I have grown up and matured more so than I have ever before. I have learned a few things that I would like people to at least give thought to...

Please are a contradiction. Every single person has something for which they hypocritical about. Anyone who tells you differently is lying. There is no pure person, there is no one who is free of mistakes there is no one perfectly pure and consistent in ideology. It’s okay to get new information and change your opinion. No one person can change the world and evil will always exist. You will drive yourself crazy trying to eliminate all the bad out there. At the end of the day all you can do is try and help more people than you hurt.

There are very few black and white things in life and you can’t always classify people as purely good or purely bad. People can change and that can be for better or worse. People have free will but they are also the product of their environments. It is easy to point a finger and say YOU/THIS is responsible and destroying this will right the wrong. It doesn’t. I think cancel culture can do good but it can also be toxic. Not just for the people ‘cancelled’ but also for the people doing the canceling.

Don’t over analyze any of this or try and read between the lines, just think about it.

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duhragonball · 4 years

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (124/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Planet Yars.]

The Jindan Cult's war against the Federation was essentially a coordinated series of raids. Small groups of Saiyan cultists would attempt to invade a planet, usually along the Federation's frontier, and the defenders would be forced to respond before they could entrench themselves. The Saiyan Free Company, led by Princess Seltiss, could be counted on to handle one or two Jindan cultists, and the Federation fleet could intercept the cult's ships and destroy them before their crews could bring their powers to bear. But when six or more of the cultists landed on a planet together, it was a job for Luffa. Only the Super Saiyan had the power to cope with so many of the alchemically-enhanced warriors. And even then, they managed to wear her down, battle by battle, to the point where she needed time to recover.

During Luffa's convalescence, the cult managed to conquer Yars and without Luffa available to stop them, they went to work on fortifying the planet to serve as a base of operations. All the Federation and its allies could do was to intercept any Jindan reinforcements before they could reach the occupied planet.

But the cult had other ways to strengthen its position. Later, Yartian witnesses would tell stories of a gruesome ritual they performed, where one of their priestesses vomited red liquid onto the ground, and then an enormous earthen figure emerged from below. Then they worshiped this walking idol with cheers, songs, and sacrifices. The Federation's defenders knew this creature was an avatar of the cult's leader, Trismegistus, also known as the Saiyan King Rehval III. These avatars were immensely powerful, and now that the occupiers had one of them on the planet, there would be no way of removing them without Luffa's help.

"I would have thought she'd have been here by now," the rock-Rehval said. He was seated upon a giant stone throne that his followers had built for him in what used to be the planet's capital city. "Fifteen of my followers would be tempting enough bait by themselves, but I was sure she'd jump at the chance to destroy another one of my bodies."

One of his flock stood on the armrest of his stone chair. His job was officially to oversee construction projects in the area and to see to his master's needs, but the rock creature needed nothing, as the real Rehval was controlling it from many light years away. He was mostly there to let the avatar know when it was time to fight.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Thrice Blessed One," the man said.

"Well, it can't be helped," Rehval said with a mighty shrug. "I'll just go dormant for a while and check in again. It's not like she can get close to the planet without one of you sensing her approach or detecting her ship."

And so the great stone form of Rehval grew still. And just as the attendant turned to consider his other duties, he was decapitated by a beam of red light. Had he survived this, or if his master had not withdrawn his presence from the earthen figure, one of them might have recognized this as Luffa's signature technique, the Vengeance Cannon. Instead, his headless body tumbled to the idol's feet, while the idol itself remained motionless. Luffa approached it a few seconds later, and waited patiently for the other fourteen cultists to sense her power and find her. Civilian witnesses would describe the yellow glow of her hair and tail, and a sense of unease. Most Federation citizens appreciated Luffa as a benevolent protector, but many had seconds thoughts after seeing her in action. The news media tended to edit footage of her battles for the sake of decorum, but those who saw her fight in person had no such filter.

"You fools make it so easy," she gloated when they finally arrived. "You thought I'd rush in on a battleship, full power, give you plenty of warning. It never occurred to you that I'd do it all sneaky-like, did it? Suppress my power, coast my way into the system, reconnoiter for a few days."

"We still should have detected your ship!" one of the cultists protested. They all surrounded her as she floated above their earthen idol, daring them to chase her away from it.

Luffa laughed. "You call yourselves Saiyans?" she scoffed. "You must have forgotten everything you know about warfare when you went for this magical nonsense. You took this planet, sure, but you're still behind enemy lines. All the defense systems are enemy tech, aren't they? Including the early-warning outpost on the twelfth planet in this system. You didn't think those guys were much of a threat, but they've been scrambling your sensors since before I got here. So if you didn't detect my ship, blame those guys. I'm surprised your 'all-knowing' leader didn't mention it to you earlier."

"You're still outmatched, infidel!" one of the cultists cried as she brandished her spear at Luffa. "Even if you could defeat all of us, we only have to touch Trismegistus' form to summon him back to aid us!"

"Yeah," Luffa said. "I'm counting on it. Should make things really interesting. How long would it take for him to get here? A minute? Two minutes? And how many of you will be alive to help him once he's ready? And that's assuming you can get past me long enough to touch this thing. So many variables. I'm getting excited just thinking about it."

Without warning, she suddenly pounced onto one of the Jindan Saiyans and wrapped her legs around his before any of them could react. As she locked in the hold, he cried out in agony.

None of then had expected her to do this. It was folly to use a jointlock on a single opponent during a battle with so many enemies. And yet Luffa had done it anyway, leaving herself wide open for an attack. Only the attack never came, because her foes were too confused to seize their chance.

When one of them finally did react, he got as far as crying "For the Glory of Trismegistus!" before Luffa flew into the air to dodge his blast. Then she slammed into him, dragging her captive behind her as she continued to torture him with her hold.

"She's mad!" one of the Saiyans said in a panicked voice.

Luffa's raucous laughter did little to dissuade them from this opinion. She flew around her enemies like a hornet weaving through a group of frightened picnickers. When they finally gained the sense to try to intercept her and box her in, she used her arms to fire back on them. A Saiyan tried to cone up from behind her, but she flipped around as he approached, and swung her captive into him like a club.

His now constant wailing had taken a severe toll on their morale. Only a short while ago, they had been confident about their mission, but now, they all felt they were in a battle for survival, and they were losing. None of them dared to go for the earthen giant below. As powerful as the avatar could be, they each feared that Luffa would pick them off unless they all fought together.

As Luffa dodged their attacks, one of them stood still, struggling to prepare an energy technique. A ball of light coalesced above his right hand, and he growled and gritted his teeth as he willed it into existence. When the moment was right, he would unleash the power, and then--!

Before he could finish, a plasma bolt struck him on the side of his head, and he collapsed. He was dead before he hit the ground. Six hundred yards away, Zatte smiled as she looked at his dead body in the scope of her rifle, then shifted her aim to pick out a new target.

On the battlefield, the Jindan Saiyans saw one of their own fall, and believed it was Luffa's doing. They began to fear that her attacks could come without warning, and their panic forced them to go on the defensive. Luffa had killed the man she had caught in her leglock, and now she was seeking out a fresh victim. No one wanted to volunteer. In this way, the Jindan Saiyans gave up their sole advantage over Luffa. Their numbers could only overwhelm her if they attacked her together. Now, as thy scattered and kept their distance, they were unable to coordinate anything. One of them went for the avatar on the throne. Luffa fired a ki blast that got there first, reducing Rehval's graven image into a cloud of dust.

Luffa grabbed a Saiyan woman and broke her neck with a single kick. Another Jindan Saiyan tried to fight back, but he was cut down by Zatte's sniper fire before he could act. Luffa spared a backward glance to where the plasma bolt had come from, but quickly turned around in time to block an elbow strike and reverse it into a hammerlock. She used the man as a shield for a moment, then fired a ki blast through his torso, killing him and one of his comrades in the same shot.

That left just six of the original fifteen. With the power of Jindan running through their veins, six Saiyans were more than a match for nearly any force in the galaxy. Against Luffa, six were nothing at all. Under different circumstances, Luffa might have toyed with them, but she felt that they had held this planet long enough, and deemed that their occupation would not last a moment longer than necessary.

Civilian witnesses would later speak of the brutal efficiency of those final moments of the battle, but also that Luffa was laughing with joy the entire time.

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

The Federation had managed to thwart or repel every Jindan invasion into their territory. The casualty rate on the cultist's side was 100%. They continued to send warriors anyway. The prevailing attitude among the Federation's military leaders was that if they could easily win this war, if only they could take the fight to the enemy. But the cultists' home base was its most carefully guarded secret. Here, on Nagaoka, if King Rehval knew or cared that Yars had been liberated, his fifteen warriors slaughtered, and his earthen idol destroyed, he did not show it. Instead, he spent his day poring over scrolls he had gathered over the years, choosing which would offer the best education for his new student.

For her part, Treekul had no interest in learning anything from him. She had only come to this planet because three Saiyans wanted to find the Jindan Cult, and she had been intrigued enough by the opportunity to join their quest. She was an archaeologist, one specializing in ancient alchemical texts and artifacts. She joined the Saiyans for the challenge, and because she knew that Saiyans tended to find a handsome profit whenever they wanted to do something. But the Jindan Cult was no ancient puzzle to be excavated and studied. There was no payday at the end of their search. Instead they were stolen away to a secret lair. Her Saiyan partners had been indoctrinated into the cult, while their leader, Rehval, or "Trismegistus" as they called him, decided to make her his apprentice in the alchemical arts.

It could have been much worse, she told herself. The cult only accepted Saiyans, so it stood to reason that an alien like herself would have been executed on the spot. Her only advantage in this predicament was that Rehval seemed to enjoy keeping her around. He often told her that he found her attractive, but he also seemed impressed with her alchemical knowledge, and maybe he found it refreshing to have someone to talk to who wasn't brainwashed into worshiping the ground he walked on.

And so, her best chance of escape lay in exploiting his fancy. He made her a priestess in his mad religion, and commanded her to wear a sort of dress made of torn robes, and so she did. He wanted to teach her his secrets, and so she played the eager student. He flirted with her constantly, and she did everything she could to hide her disgust. Because she knew that if she did this long enough, he would eventually come to trust her, and that would be when her opportunity would present itself.

That was her greatest strength on a planet full of mighty Saiyans. They all spoke highly of their pride, but Treekul didn't have much use for it herself. "Pride" was just another word for "stubborn" in her book, and she knew far too many stubborn, brittle people who broke because they refused to bend. A little flexibility went a long way. For one thing, stubborn, brittle people had a nasty habit of mistaking compromise with surrender, which made them careless. She didn't like wearing red rags, or being forbidden to cut her own hair, or having to listen to Rehval's lectures, but she could tolerate it if she had to, and Rehval would assume she had already submitted to his will.

As she sat in the underground cavern that served as his laboratory, he went on and on about his discoveries and achievements. She knew the type well. He wanted a woman to hang on his every word, to nod in fascination, and tell him how brilliant he was.

"What is Jindan?" he asked aloud. "The word 'jindan' is easily defined. It's simply another name for mercuric sulfide, commonly known as the mineral cinnabar, or the pigment vermilion. Common chemists would say that it's a toxic substance, and they're... mainly correct. Most carbon-based life forms are poisoned by mercury salts. However, alchemical thought sees beyond the mere physical nature of mercuric sulfide, and explores the deeper truth that the salt represents.

"In alchemy, the element mercury is considered an important symbol. Unlike most metals, it is liquid at room temperature. It flows like molten silver, which is how it came to be known as "quicksilver". It is rather slow to react with most chemical reagents, although it has a number of interesting interactions with other metals. Gold is soluble in mercury, which made it very useful for the ancient mining industries of many planets. With enough heat, a gold/mercury amalgam can be separated. The mercury boils away, leaving purified gold behind. Mercury also dissolves aluminum. It almost seems to devour these metals, which may have been what has fascinated ancient alchemists since the dawn of time.

"Then there's cinnabar. The deep scarlet color of mercuric sulfide is also of great importance to alchemical philosophy. Red, the color of blood, the color of fire. The color of change and life itself. The earliest practitioners of alchemy knew that it held the secret of the great mystery, the mystery that governed all changes in nature. Copper and tin could be refined from mineral ores. Nature provides the minerals, but the metals must be taken through artificial means. The process must be sped up to a time scale that is practical for mortals. That is the power of alchemy. To accelerate or manipulate the natural processes. Mercuric sulfide represents that power in its most basic form. Mix metal mercury with hydrogen sulfide, and they form red mercuric sulfide quite readily. Distill the mercuric sulfide, and the elements can be separated, and the mercury recovered once more. Just like with copper and tin and iron, only mercury can be refined much more easily."

Treekul had heard much of this before, as a college freshman. The professor who taught that course only offered one class every other semester, and only on two days a week in the middle of the day, which had been extremely inconvenient to her schedule. What struck her was how passionate Rehval was about it, as though he wanted to make love to a mercury atom. She had to suppress the urge to laugh at that image.

"The dream of alchemy," he said, finally coming to the point, "is to reduce all natural processes to the same simplicity of refining mercury from cinnabar."

That got Treekul's attention. Simplicity. The core tenet of alchemy was that every process was a natural reaction that could be sped up, slowed down, or even reversed. It was just a matter of knowing how, of discovering the "cheat codes" that made such miracles possible. Know the right shortcuts, and one could do the impossible.

Treekul began to wonder if there was an alchemical shortcut for escaping a Saiyan cult.

"Let us consider the other component of cinnabar, which is sulfur," Rehval continued. "It is native to fire, earth, air, and water. Volcanoes spew fire and air and geysers spew water, all rich in sulfur, which eventually deposits as a waxy yellow material resembling earth. From within the earth, sulfur is born, and to earth again it returns. Molten sulfur turns blood red, hinting at its ties to cinnabar. When sulfur is set aflame, it produces a blue color. Colloidal sulfur is white. The colors illustrate sulfur's connection to the sun. It is the principle of the sun.

"Likewise, mercury is the principle of the moon. Take a bottle of mercury and spill it across a surface. It scatters into droplets, both large and small, like the many moons of different sizes throughout the countless worlds of the universe. These droplets can be bound to sulfur, just as the moons of the universe are bound to their respective suns. However, the moons are defined by their connection with the planets they orbit. Just as the planets exist as the intermediaries of the suns and moons, so does life exist as an interface between the Principles of Mercury and Sulfur. Those with wisdom can recognize this sacred relationship, and thus study the nature of cinnabar, or jindan, in the search for the power over life. For what is life but a natural process, no different from the refining of metal from ore, or the burning of wood into smoke and ash? By manipulating the Principles of Mercury and Sulfur, an elixir can be prepared, one that reacts with the reagents of life itself, accelerating some processes, while slowing others. The ideal elixir would grant a being immortality, but the wise know that this is not a thing to be pursued for material gain, or as an escape from death. No, the elixir of life is an end unto itself. Discover that ultimate secret, and all other secrets, the Whole of the Great Mystery, will be laid bare. What is immortality, when weighed against that perfect and total knowledge?

"Though sulfur represents an equal portion of Jindan, we must consider mercury to be the superior portion. Mercury has the greater density, and its atoms are larger and more massive than those of sulfur. Every planet has a sun, but only some are blessed with the moonlight, of which mercury is a symbol. For this reason, the alchemical notation for mercury is depicted as an arc atop a ring atop a cross. The arc is the crescent moon, the ring is the sun, an the cross is the life on the planet sustained by them both. The cross represents the veins that carry blood through the body, sustaining life with the same color as jindan. Mercury is the moon, placed above the sun, which is Sulfur, placed above the planets, which are Life.

He paused here to write the symbol on a handheld electronic tablet: "☿". It was the only modern technology Treekul recognized in this laboratory. Everything else looked either archaic or unfamiliar, or both. She had seen the symbol before, of course, and the one for sulfur as well, which was a triangle atop a cross. But something about Rehval's fervor in describing it made her uneasy. To her it was a piece of trivia, but it was clearly something deep and meaningful to him.

"All of this," Rehval said, "Is a very elaborate way of saying that Jindan, my Jindan, is a way of harnessing planetary energy as a supplement to ones own ki. Cinnabar represents the connection between the Principles and living beings, but it's also just a mineral you dig up from the ground. Ancient scholars would drink potions of cinnabar and die, or go mad from mercury poisoning, because they took the connection too literally, too directly. The truth is more sublime, more complex.

"You see, there are three types of ki in the universe. The ki of living things is what makes the Saiyan race mighty. We Saiyans have more of this energy than most beings, which makes us stronger, better. Then there's the ki of the heavens. The sun and the moon. The stars themselves possess a ki which is inaccessible to us. Oh, the moonlight allows Saiyans to transform into giant apes, but the moonlight is only a catalyst for releasing latent ki we already possess. That's why I cut off my tail a long time ago, because I learned to harness that latent power without transforming. It's why I ask my followers to do the same. We don't need the moon. We don't need tails.

He pointed at the cavern floor. "What we need is the third ki, which is found in the ground beneath our feet. This is the interface where life and the heavens meet. Mercuric sulfide. The moon and the sun combine to form a mineral, which resembles lifeblood but can kill the uninitiated. My Jindan is the ki equivalent of that elixir. My technique is to draw power from within a planet. Done properly, it can magnify your strength many times over. But if the power is harnessed recklessly, it can destroy the user completely. Do you understand, Treekul?"

"Not entirely, but I get the general idea, I think. How'd you figure all of this out?" she asked.

"Alchemy has long been one of my passions," he said. "I wasn't blessed with great ki like other members of my family, and I sought an explanation for that injustice. Alchemy teaches us that the universe is governed by rules, but those rules can be manipulated by those who know how. Thus I was able to become as strong as I wished, as powerful as I wished to become. I turned lead into gold by transforming my base self into the golden King of the Saiyans. Soon to become King of the Universe. There remains only one obstacle, one stubborn impurity to be purged."

"Luffa," Treekul said.

"I've seen enough divinations to know that our destinies are intertwined, hers and mine. She is the Sun, bright and yellow and powerful. I am the Moon, lurking in the shadows, sublime and contemplative. The key is that our genders don't line up to that analogy. In alchemical thought, the Sun-Sulfur Principle is male, while the Moon-Mercury Principle is considered female."

"Cool, but what's that got to do with it?" she asked.

"It means that I must join with her, to complete the intermingling of our essences," Rehval said. "Well, that sounds a bit esoteric, doesn't it? The simpler explanation is that I need her, or some part of her, to complete my legacy. If she won't join me, then I'll have to take from her what I need. The Golden King must have the Super Saiyan power along with everything else. As a Saiyan myself, it stands to reason that if I defeat the Super Saiyan, that would mean I become the Super Saiyan."

"Wait, you think killing her would suddenly cause you to absorb her transformation into yourself?" Treekul asked.

He chuckled at that suggestion. "No, not really, though it is an interesting possibility. Perhaps the Super Saiyan only emerges once every thousand years because there must be one and only one. If the one that emerges were to die, would the power automatically go to another? Another natural process in the universe, one that I can study and master, but only when Luffa has been neutralized once and for all. I don't need to become a Super Saiyan literally, Treekul. Not when I can learn what the power is and how it works. If I find a way to make Super Saiyans at will, then I would be more powerful than any Super Saiyan before or after. That's the power I want. If my descendants can benefit from it, then the Saiyan race will have surely triumphed over all."

Treekul wasn't sure what to say. "You're a hell of a guy, King Rehval," was all she could manage.

"Thank you, my dear," he said. "And I think you'll make an excellent courtesan. It'll be nice to have someone to discuss spagyric theory with."

She made an audible gulp.

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Planet Yars.]

Luffa's star-yacht, the Emerald Eye, had fifty cabins, most of which rarely ever saw use since Luffa took ownership of the vessel. She had occasionally used the extra living space for guests, though the only time it had approached the maximum capacity was when she had hosted strategic conferences between the Wist-Extraliga Wars. Among the many aliens on board during that time, there was once a Solarian monk who had left a letter on the bed during his stay. He had sensed great turmoil in Luffa's spirit, even by the standard of most warriors he had encountered, and his intention was that she would discover the letter at some later date, and perhaps find a measure of comfort in the words he had written. Also on the bed were a pair of the monk's headphones, which had no special significance. He had left those behind purely by accident.

When Luffa finally entered the cabin, she only noticed the letter and headphones long enough to sweep them aside as she laid her wife on the bed. The monk's letter fell to the floor, where it would never be seen again. They were too preoccupied with each other to worry about it.

"You... never... should have... got...gotten... so close to the....mmph... battlefield," Luffa said as she started pulling off whatever articles of clothing she could manage. She had some trouble speaking, as Zatte kept kissing her between each word.

"You're right," Zatte said. "But you were there, so I went in anyway."

"I almost didn't make it," Luffa whispered into her ear. "One of them was all set to blast half the city. The half you were in. He would have killed you--"

"But he hesitated," Zatte replied. She grabbed the front of Luffa's sleeveless shirt and pulled on it until it ripped apart. "They always hesitate, because they don't know who I am or what I'm doing there. More than enough time for my golden girl to come to my rescue."

"I was fighting twelve of them," Luffa panted.

"Eleven, after the one I shot," Zatte said. "Ten, if one of them managed to run off looking for the shooter. And they never find me until I want to be found."

"That's still too close, young lady," Luffa said. "You took a big gamble..."

"It felt like it," Zatte said. "But I wasn't really in any danger. Or are you saying those twelve Saiyans were too much for you?"

"You... ah!... you want the truth?" Luffa asked.

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't," Zatte asked.

She inhaled sharply and gripped Zatte's shoulders tightly. "I have no idea," she said.

"Say that again," Zatte said.

"I don't know for sure if I could have beaten all twelve of them or not," Luffa said, an octave higher than she usually spoke. "Not if one of them managed to bring that rock creature back to life. Dammit, your hair smells amazing."

"Thanks, but don't... wow... don't change the subject."

"I thought I was in a pinch," Luffa said. Her voice began to tremble as she went on. "I was actually... glad when you shot one of those guys... but then I wasn't sure I could hold them off and help you at the same time."

"But you did," Zatte said. "You won, just like always."

"Thanks to you," Luffa said. "Without your courage I... I..."

For some time after that, they each found they had little else to say, so they used their bodies instead. There was a great deal of theatrics to their intimacy. Luffa alternated between her transformed and normal states depending on the mood. Occasionally, Zatte would become invisible, or alter her own body temperature using her ability to manipulate energy, mostly for the novelty of it. Telepathic communion had proven corrosive to their relationship, though Luffa had recently discovered a way to work around that. Instead of opening their minds to one another completely, she could establish a connection very briefly, allowing only a very small exchange of their thoughts. Mostly these mental quanta were too small and random to be of any meaning. It was for fun, more than anything else. A way for each of them to hear the other's voice in her head, even if it was gibberish like "laundry", "perpendicular", "beloved", or "leftovers".

There was no clock in the room, and neither of them had any interest in asking the computer to tell them the time. The battle of Yars was won, and until there was any word on another attack, there was nothing to do but wait. At some point, Zatte stood by the cabin window and admired the view of the planet's dayside.

"Was this how you thought it would be?" she asked Luffa without looking away from the window.

"What do you mean?" Luffa asked.

"I mean, was this how you wanted your life to turn out?" Zatte asked.

"Well, the last couple of hours have gone great," Luffa said with a satisfied smile.

"I mean, the whole thing, dummy," Zatte said. "When I was a kid, this was pretty much how I thought it would be. I had this old book my uncle gave me before he died. It was all about space battles and all the characters in the illustrations weren't really dressed for it. There was this one picture of a princess staring out a window on a ship. I guess that's why I'm standing here right now."

"Yeah, but you don't really like to fight," Luffa said.

Zatte nodded. "I guess it's not exactly what I had in mind, but most of it worked out for me. You and me, together, roaming the stars in our ship." She turned from the window, and gestured to the ocular implant where her right eye used to be. "I guess I pictured myself having two eyes and a lot fewer scars, but I think it's worth it. I may not like to fight the way you do, but I take a lot of satisfaction in the results. I have a holy cause. Someone to belong to. That's worth a few injuries, I think."

She sat down on the bed and patted Luffa's shoulder. "So was this anything like what you expected?" Zatte asked.

"I don't want this to come out the wrong way," Luffa said. "But when I was a kid, I figured you'd be a Saiyan man, and I'd have six or seven brats underfoot."

"Oh, right," Zatte said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked--"

"No, it's all right, Zattie," Luffa said. "It's just... I had no idea what I'd become. I still don't know what I am. I wasn't kidding before when I said I didn't know if I could beat those Saiyans. It was like, one minute I wasn't strong enough to take them, and the next minute I was. Maybe knowing you might be in trouble was what did it. It pushed me over the edge, like when I first transformed."

"That's wonderful," Zatte said. "If I helped you get stronger, then I'm honored..."

"Before, I would have died before accepting help from anyone in a fight," Luffa went on. "Now... well it doesn't bother me as much. I just sort of shrug and keep going. I've fought battles and won victories that would keep most Saiyans satisfied for a lifetime. But I see all the people who suffer on the sidelines, and that bugs me more than I thought it would."

"You're helping those people," Zatte said. "You should take pride in that."

"Maybe. It's just hard for me to say it's worth it, when I don't really know what 'it' is. Seems like it keeps changing on me. But one thing I do know..."

She took Zatte's hand and drew her closer. "There's a lot I'm not sure about, but hearing you say this is how you hoped it would be... well, that puts my mind at ease. People tell me I'm doing the right thing, and it's hard for me to know if that's true, but at least they're saying it. You guys can't all be wrong."

Zatte lay down beside her and put her head on her shoulder. "You'll see," she said. "One day, you'll understand what you've become. Until then, well, it's kind of cool that you don't get it, but you keep plugging away at it anyway."

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

The acolytes waited on her hand and foot, as they always did. Rehval had arranged for Treekul to be a priestess in the cult, which granted her considerable freedom and privilege. Rank-and-file cultists had almost every aspect of their lives micromanaged. Their diet, exercise, sleep patterns, even their sex lives were strictly regulated by Rehval's priests. In turn, the priesthood answered to Rehval, though she had found that they were so thoroughly indoctrinated that they needed little direct guidance from him. Treekul was the only exception. She was mostly exempt from priestly duties, which was fortunate, since she had little understanding of what those duties were. Even so, the cultists treated her with the utmost devotion, if only out of respect for the office.

Rehval had multiple reasons for arranging this. First, it kept his followers off-balance. They had been taught to view outsiders as inferior or even wicked, and yet he had allowed an alien in their midst and given her a place of honor. Contradiction was one of many tools he used to control them all. Second, it suited his ego to work his "apprentice and/or consort" into his private religious order. Third, it kept Treekul off-balance. She was a prisoner here, and the "apprenticeship" made her feel more like a slave than a student. And yet, when she was dismissed from her lessons, she was treated like a queen, and free to do whatever she liked... except leave.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, mistress?" one of her attendants asked. The anxiety in his voice was depressingly typical for this place. It was the sound of a man who was constantly terrified of displeasing his superiors. Like all of the Saiyans here, he had come seeking power, only to find that it would be taken away if he displeased his benefactor.

Treekul finished her meal--a bland stew made with artificial proteins-- and shook her head. "Not unless you know where I can get a haircut," she said. "I could use my ki for that," the other Saiyan volunteered. He raised his hand and the tips of his fingers glowed with blue light.

"S-so could I!" the other man quickly added. Treekul was too tired to look at him, but she could tell from his voice that he was worried that he hadn't thought of the idea himself.

"I may have to take you up on that," Treekul said, "but I'd much rather do it myself. There's something pleasant about using a hair trimmer, you know? Too bad I don't have it..."

She was about to mention that her hair trimmer had been confiscated when she was brought to the planet, but then Treekul had an idea. "I mean... it's too bad that it broke down on me the other day," she said. "I haven't slept well since it stopped working."

She ran her hand over the shallow field of green hair on her scalp. "It relaxes me, is all. I know it's not that long, but there's a certain length where it's just right. Too short, and it's rough, like sandpaper. Too long, and it feels too soft. So I trim it constantly, or I used to, anyway."

"Perhaps the technicians could fix it," one of the Saiyan men suggested.

"Technicians?" Treekul asked. "Oh, I'm sure they're much too busy maintaining Trismegistus's more important equipment. It'd be selfish of me to impose."

"Not at all," he said. "I know one of the technicians, and she would be honored to serve you, mistress. She's my... well, she used to be my wife."

Treekul tried not to react to the barely-repressed emotion in his voice. Rehval had very strange notions about breeding practices. She wasn't entirely sure how he ran things as King of the Saiyans, but as Trismegistus, he dissolved all family ties and commanded his followers to participate in communal sex rituals. And yet, Treekul had never seen any children or pregnant women on this planet. Rehval seemed to want a new generation of Saiyans, but she had no idea where he was keeping them. Maybe he had a second underground facility for that.

"I'd like to meet her," Treekul said. "You know, just to see some of Trismegistus' followers working for his greater glory. Yeah, that kind of thing."

What Treekul really wanted was to get as much sleep as she could before reporting to Rehval for another lesson. But this was too good an opportunity to pass up. It had taken days for her to learn enough about the cult's inner workings to confirm that spaceships were routinely moving to and from whatever planet this was. Ships required regular maintenance, and if Treekul could find the maintenance crews, she could find a docking bay, or perhaps a flight schedule or cargo manifest. Even if all she found was a star chart to tell her where in the universe she was, Treekul believed it was worth losing a few more hours of sleep.

"At once!" he blurted out. Then the other Saiyan nudged him with his elbow, and he thought better of it. "Er, I mean... after we've finished our duty shift, that is," he said.

"With your permission," the other man offered, "we could take the device to her and bring it back once it's repaired."

"Nah, that's all right," Treekul said. "I'd really like to meet her in person, and I'm in no big hurry. We can work something out later."

They exchanged awkward pleasantries, the two men apologizing for any inconvenience, and she halfheartedly assuring them that she wasn't displeased with their work. Then she withdrew to her quarters, a space roughly the size of a studio apartment that had been hewn out of solid rock.

It wasn't a total loss, she thought to herself as she lay in her bed. At least she had learned that the technicians weren't off-limits to her. She just had to wait a little longer before seeing them. And once she knew where to go, she could return whenever she pleased

And there were other possibilities. She had hoped Endive might help her once she learned the truth about Trismegistus being Rehval, but so far nothing had come of that. If anything, her devotion to the man seemed to be even stronger for some reason. But maybe Endive just needed time to let the truth sink in. And there was still Lesseri, and Guwar, although she hardly ever saw him anymore.

And there was always the chance that Rehval's enemies might somehow track him down and invade the planet. Treekul wasn't sure she would survive a battle like that, but at least it was one more chance. She was building quite a collection of chances. One of them was bound to pan out.

An hour later, she fell asleep, in spite of the uncomfortable length of her hair.

NEXT: Fytpall.

#dragon ball #fanfiction #super saiyan #lssjluffafic #luffa #zatte #trismegistus #treekul #nagaoka #yars

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sanoiro · 4 years

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Lucifer 5x07 - Our Mojo - Spoilers & Speculation

Warning! There is always the possibility that certain scenes might have been mixed up under their non-respective episodes.

Written By: Julia Fontana

Directed By: Nathan Hope

Julia Fontana has written/co-written the episodes:

2x10 - Quid Pro Ho

2x15 - Deceptive Little Parasite

3x08 - Chloe Does Lucifer

3x16 - Infernal Guinea Pig

5x07 - Our Mojo

Cast: Tom Ellis as Lucifer, Lauren German as Chloe, DB Woodside as Amenadiel, Lesley-Ann Brandt as Maze, Kevin Alejandro as Dan, Scarlett Estevez as Trixie, Rachael Harris as Linda Martin and Aimee Garcia as Ella.

Season 5 Recurring Characters: None Officially Announced Guest Cast:

Giovanni Bejarano...Mario Canales

Nancy De Mayo...Nina

Glenn Fernandez...Danilo

David Figlioli...Les Klumpsky

Cara Koh...Madison Evans

Behind The Scenes

youtube

As we get close to the Midseason Finale S&S do remember the past seasons Midseason and Season Finales. There were never standalone. You see there is always a pattern to be followed and this will happen with 5x07 and 5x08. The two episodes 5x07 and 5x08 act both as a Finale but also as a medium to the story to move forward and for P2 to bring elements from P1.

Going back we should remember how the following episodes intertwined thus a recap is needed.

1x12 - #TeamLucifer & 1x13 - Take Me Back to Hell were based on three elements. One Lucifer’s vulnerability, Malcolm and the Pentecostal Coin. A bargain was made there which moved us to S2 and the introduction of Mum.

2x11 - Stewardess Interruptus, 2x12- Love Handles and 2x13 - A Good Day to Die built up to the point of where the supernatural aspects of Lucifer’s mythos are explored with Chloe being revealed to be a Miracle while Dr Carlisle acted as a serial killer poisoning his victims and Chloe. What we also tend to forget here is that early in S2 Uriel’s threat was almost materialized as Chloe would have died if Lucifer had not gone to Hell and thus broke the balance of time and effect Dr Carlisle had started. It is also why in that season we had to focus on Mum and the blade.

2x17 - Sympathy for the Goddess and 2x18 The Good, the Bad and the Crispy used the blade and Mum was set as yet another problem while Lucifer regained his wings. Again we needed two to three episodes if you add 2x16 - God Johnson into this, to build up the story.

In S3 3x09 - Sinnerman and 3x10 - The Sin Bin led to the Mid Season finale which foretold Marcus way of dying by a blade which Lucifer had struck. The end of S3 actually started from 3x19 and was led to the very end but again episodes 3x23 - Quintessential Deckerstar and 3x24 - A Devil of my Word delivered the conclusion of S3 and led to the issues of S4.

Now S4 actually help us structure S5. There were Kinley and the vial, in 4x04 - All About Eve we get Eve and the conclusion happens between the episodes 4x09 - Save Lucifer and 4x10 - Who’s Da New King of Hell. Also, certain episodes were connected like 4x06 - Orgy Pants To Work and 4x07 - Devil Is As Devil Does where Julian becomes the connection between the story as it involves

With all the above in mind, we see what the writers like to use but also how they pace their seasons and what is included.

In S5 up to 5x10 you will see this as far as I understand.

First 5x01 will set in motion an issue that needs to be resolved so Lucifer ascends but a new factor is introduced and that way the episode will end with a question of how things will move from there while the promise of Lucifer staying on Earth will not be that clear.

In 5x02 we get the realization that something is amiss and that action needs to be taken but that connects us to 5x03 so 5x02 and 5x03 connect through the lingering issue from 5x01, Lucifer’s desire to stay on earth or perhaps the insistence of others to keep him away from Hell. Hell you see is like a drug and it acts slowly so at some point we will get a cold turkey Lucifer in 5x02 with 5x03 acting as his re-introduction to society and his old life.

Amidst all that we get the consequence of Lucifer’s actions probably from 5x01 which I suspect will affect Dan and a more permanent solution will be sought which leads us to 5x04. 5x04 offers us a lot of answers but also questions and that is why it is tied so well with 5x05. Lucifer is not the same nothing is but a solution has been found as maintenance does not fix a hole in a sinking ship.

Along with all the above, we also have Deckerstar and revelations which are bound to be set in these episodes and which will lead to the rocky episode of 5x06. Fear not though as 5x06 opens the door to the last two episodes of P1. In these two episodes actions will be made that will turn the tables first to how our characters act but also what they expect from the future. It is also where we will understand why in 5x04 the title was “It never ends well for the Chicken”.

Divine solutions do not come without collateral and thus a sacrifice will be made yet to what extent and what that will mean for our leads it remains to be seen as we only have scattered pieces which hint that Chloe will take the blow but not in the conventional sense the fandom loves to lament over. Chloe dying is overplayed and in my opinion to fan fiction like to be put forward in the mid-season finale. No here we are talking about more revelations on Lucifer’s past but also Chloe’s which may date back to the Pre-Fall era.

So let’s try to go through 5x07 episode first as we connect it lightly to 5x08.

First of all, we know that we have a Serial Killer played by David Figlioli* in these two episodes so I would expect to see a plot similar to Dr Carlisle’s. That means that in one of the two episodes either the effect of the character will set in motion an unavoidable plot that will affect all the leads pr that past actions are bound to fade the immediate future.

*If you do not want to know who that is please do not look him up and think twice before spoiling that element to people who do not like spoilers or like the procedural subplot of the series. I do not add his bts here for that reason.

Now our Serial Killer has been described as “Nerdy and Creepy” which fits the description from the locations they were used.

At this point please remember that we usually LOVE to speculate only on Lucifer and Chloe but in reality their story is supported and the plot moves forward through the events on every single character’s life. So certain points might be considered from all angles meaning from every character’s point of view on 5x07 and 5x08. That is practically impossible as we have no idea what has happened to most of them during S5P1, we can only guess so let’s see.

Dan - We expect him to have a health issue that ties him to Lucifer for the most part of the season. As we have said Dan’s arc is very similar to Charlotte’s and also after 5x08 the bracelet disappears but that’s for the S&S of 5x08. So notice that Kevin Alejandro did not appear in the bts of 5x07 and 5x08 while the actor had some other engagement during the shooting of 5x07 and he directed 5x08. Of course, bts are not reliable on how much screen time a character has but is nonetheless suspicious.

Amenadiel - It seems that Amenadiel according to his garments has decided run LUX early in S5 but in some bts there were some hints of boxing yet I cannot tie them to an episode so I’m just mentioning that here. We also know from the photos at Linda’s fridge is you look closely that he has a calm domestic life but here is the twist we do not know if he is romantically involved with Linda or if in S5 the usual working pair Maze and Amenadiel move from where they left things in S1-S2. Whatever happens, what we know is that Amenadiel is deeply involved in this seasons plot so keep an eye on him.

Maze - You have seen her in different clothes and it does not seem like she has left her demonic character attitudes and choice of wardrobe behind in S5. On the contrary, her relationship with humans like Ella and Linda seem to now be better and I do not think she will be bitter towards Lucifer although who knows, as he left her when he went back to Hell. In short, she seems to be coping well but there are a lot of fights which I’m not sure whether she acts out in S5 towards Lucifer and Amenadiel or tries to fend off whatever attacks them. Do not go to oh the demons have ascended scenario just yet…

Linda - Linda seems to be in a very good place we know she has her son, Charlie is growing and all the baby proof wrapper is still on so you never know when wings or powers might come forward in her life. We do know that she continues to have a close relationship with Chloe and Maze and also an amicable one with Amenadiel. Finally, we know that she resumes her sessions with Lucifer.

Charlie - Charlie is a bit of an enigma and he may be one of the contributing factors of these two episodes. For all, we know the kid finally gets some powers and do expect him to surprise you.

Ella - You just don’t know with this character as all of Aimee’s bts are vague at best yet I do not believe she has found out yet about Lucifer but P2 might be her time to do so. She does not seem to occupy much of S5’s plot but I would keep an eye on her on the second part of the season and especially on 5x10.

Trixie - Trixie’s role is doubtful to be elevated to something more in this part but she has some great moments with Lucifer. At the moment I cannot really speculate about her as whatever happens in the stages rarely gets out so we have very few appearances of Scarlet at the lot…

Lucifer - Lucifer seems to be getting a bit different, you see a different side of him one that the perhaps wanted to forget as his past comes knocking throughout the season. His evolution through the series is interesting but the supernatural elements worrisome. Again the fact alone he is willing to help Dan says a lot.

Chloe - As you saw I was very brief with Lucifer as I wanted to focus a bit more on Chloe. Aside from her relationship to Lucifer in S5 we get to see that every person has two sides even if for some they were unaware it existed. That’s not a good and bad side kind scenario but I’m talking more about Chloe being more than a miracle. Before you speculate and ask I would just say that her being a Miracle is not where S5 will step on so look for clues while you watch because all lead to 5x08. I may be right I may be wrong but I’ll spend some more time explaining this in the S&S of 5x08.

So let’s start with 5x07’s case. It’s the easy way to figure out what is going on or at least put in order the scenes. Here we have two plots and we do not know if the Serial Killer’s victim/s is the case of the week. We do know that the Serial Killer, for the most part, was in the lot so I do not think he was on location much. The reason for this is because we have two locations at the backlot where 5x07 was mainly shot.

The first one is a flower shop which if I can guess is connected to the Serial Killer perhaps. He might be this kind of peaceful guys who run a flower shop and who you would never suspect on killing people in their free time. It adds up a bit but I cannot be sure.

The second one is a house that was used as a crime scene location. In the heart of the WB lot they setup a house that exhibited a lot of wealth and eclectic taste. It’s only normal as this case is also connected to an opera?** performer or at least someone who is seen to be performing at the Los Angeles Theater a wonderful old Cinema and grand landmark in DTLA.

**We cannot know for sure of the genre he performs but the taste of his house shows he is into classical pieces so...

(See the BTS video there I always include bts that I have not posted before and are all Lucifer related)

^The police car and the coronary’s car outside the lot house location.

First, we need to remember that during a quick ext the cast and crew had to do from the Stages there was also an actress that played a human body. She wore a lot of grey and blue makeup and we can assume she was part of this story. I cannot tell if in 5x07 a body of that kind will make it to our screens but a cemetery will.

The cemetery most probably is though related to the season’s supernatural plot. They filmed at the Rosedale cemetery with several stunts and from the videos you can see that Lesley Ann had a lot of action scenes in this episode. At the same time, DB had twitted to have a lot of scenes with her in that episode. According to what DB revealed the two characters are working together. I would predict that this has to do with whatever Amenadiel is searching for since 5x05.

^In general D.B. has been thrilled with the final season and that pleases me a lot!

The Rosedale cemetery has several wonderful tombs and crypts which some of them could be used to a similar theme that was used early in the season. Confusing I know but let’s say that in P1 it seems like they are trying to find something, an object perhaps and I wouldn't be surprised if it was either hidden in a cemetery or simply that the object that they are looking for is connected to the serial killer somehow… I mean remember Azrael’s blade… I doubt they will use the same scenario but the divine influence on mortals never ends well.

Now the second location which I mentioned before is the Los Angeles Theater. I do not know if Ellis and German were also in the cemetery but they will be at the Theater along with the opera? singer. There is also some stunts involved so I would keep an eye on someone escaping or at least putting a fight. For all we know this case might also be a bit similar to 3x17 one with Axara.

^The stand-ins taking notes for the scene

^We expect some to happen to that grand staircase oh and there were again a lot of stunts there so :D

As you can tell the majority of 5x07 as an episode eludes us and there are bts we cannot really explain but we can only speculate about.

For example why Lucifer wears a budge and has a gun? Why now? Is he threatened or Chloe has decided that enough is enough. Perhaps even in order to not endanger her Lucifer might have taken her badge and gun. The possibilities are so many yet a definite answer cannot be given. If we take into account that the title is Our Mojo it can be a million different things. Like the opera? singer has the same captivating effect as Lucifer’s mojo for some reason but not a divine gift. It might have to do something with Charlie or it can be taken completely out of context. All we know is that Lucifer has to be armed so I would speculate this.

I admit I was not the one to notice that but my dear Amy was :P I just did the visuals a bit clearer.

Let’s assume that Lucifer’s connection to Dan is weakened him and it goes both ways hence why we do not see Dan as much in 5x07 and a permanent solution becomes more urgent. His strength, mojo and overall his capacity to protect himself. Or perhaps he has to pose as Dan but that wouldn’t explain the protection of authority and a gun full of bullets. So we know things are dangerous when Chloe? caves in and hands Lucifer a gun to protect himself or if Lucifer has decided that in order to keep himself safe he has to play with human toys.

What we also cannot totally explain is the green screen *around* the penthouse. After discussing this with some friends we have agreed that it should be a large scale event or something. We do not know when or if Lucifer and Chloe get intimate, if that’s why that green screen is there or if there is a divine consequence that has to be shown through VFX. All we know is that there is something big coming. The last time they had used such a big screen well it was smaller actually was for the Fall nightmare scene of 3x15.

Additional Info

The stunts were rehearsing a fight at the stages but that’s normal for when they have to perform on location.

Something seems to happen at the precinct and mainly in episode 5x08. Something like a fight

^Naughty Woman? Perhaps I’m wrong...

The director posted this as a lucifer bts but here is the thing little Charlie as far as the babies used go cannot operate that but with CGI everything is possible. Also, the babies used were shooting for a different show at that time.

#lucifer spoilers #lucifer speculation #lucifer 5x07 #Lucifer 5x07 - Our Mojo #Sanoiro S&S

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schoolblogroxanne · 4 years

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How can I create a non-pathological culture, while embracing deviancy and tradition at the same time?

In order to make a non-pathological culture you need to know what a non-pathological culture is a Non-pathological culture does not focus on the leader's personal interests and resources. The information is not processed in a way to further or advance particular parties within the organization but to benefit the organization as a whole; this culture may seem abnormal but can be a beneficial way for the community. In order for it to work you need to know how to act in the deviance in the society; to balance the scale in the society, the wants and needs of the society and if these things are essential, for example, if the law of the government that is in power does not coincide with the needs and wants of the society, the society will feel alienated from nation it serves, it will break the balance and cause chaos, just like what happened to the Philippines when it was occupied by other nations, a revolution occurred because the balance was lost when other nations applied there laws and tradition to the society, therefore a non-pathological culture can be doable due to its components and ways, not only the government or the people that are on power will benefit the but all of the people who are under this nation or society. Non-pathological culture is not power oriented and is a positive type culture.

Deviancy is classified in two types, Over conformity and Under conformity, Over conformity is based on accepting and conforming to norms without question where the actions, traits and ideas of athletes and coaches involves such an extreme conformity that they perform ��supranormal” actions and potentially endanger themselves and others for example models, Some models suffer anorexia due to their obsession of having a thin body: Anorexia is form of eating disorder which the person having this psychological disorder fears to gain weight. Another example of deviant Over conformity is that an athlete makes sacrifices for "the game", an athlete strives for distinction, an athlete accepts risks and plays through pain, and an athlete accepts no limits in the pursuit of possibilities. Because of the presence of this moral code of athleticism, athletes who over-conform to theses norms and commit deviant acts aren't necessarily viewed as deviant. The four main norms of the sports ethic states that an athlete must make sacrifices for the game and accept risks, which can in turn, glorify the decisions that an athlete makes to behave in a deviant way. If an athlete decides they need to better their physical health in order to succeed in their sport, and decides to take performance enhancing drugs or along the way, develops an eating disorder in pursuit of becoming a larger asset to their team, according to the sports ethic, they are only fulfilling their duties as an athlete, some athletes also do Over training or staleness occurs when an athlete ignores the signs of overreaching and continues to train. Many athletes believe that weakness or poor performance signals the need for even harder training. So, they continue to push themselves. This only breaks down the body further pushing the body to its limit. This act of deviance Overconformity is mostly acceptable in the athlete society because other athletes will understand what that person feels and the reason why he did those deviant acts, even though there is bad side on this type of practices some of the characteristics of this deviancy has a positive effect because of their goal to be the best or the be known they motivate their body in order to reach those goals.

The other form of deviancy is Under conformity, under conformity is based on ignoring or rejecting norms, this often happen to people who has low esteem, those people who take their talent for granted and people who are under too much pressure. This type of deviance is a negative form of deviance, the complete opposite of deviance over conformity, this type of deviance can result to generalizations or stereotypes, people will consider you taboo, someone who is not acceptable to the society, because people are more used with the uniform ways, doing under conformity makes you different, strange , or much worse a bad influence to other people, some culture reject this kind of thinking because it may affect there laws and tradition, an example of under conformity is obesity, obesity is a complex disease involving excessive of body fat, a gateway disease that may cause other diseases and health problems, such as heart disease, diabetes, high blood pressure and some other certain cancer. Another example to this is an unmotivated student, a student that avoids academic challenges; the student shows boredom and lack of attention in class, in order to tend to this unmotivated student you need to do two things he first is to change his thinking so he comes to believe that, if he puts forth effort, he can be successful with academic tasks. The second is to figure out what does motivate them to identify the settings, situations, and conditions that he responds to and that can be used to foster his interest, so here we it the two types of deviance, deviance has its good side and its bad side, If we use deviance in a good way we could gain from it but we need to put balance on the decisions we make, because too much of anything is bad, other traits of having a deviant under conformity is that the person having this have sub normal ideas, traits, actions that indicate rejection or ignorance of their existence. This type of attitude could link into anarchy and lawlessness, this type of mindset can be dangerous to the people around him/her because he/she could harm them in order to get their wants and needs, and also this type of deviancy can cause the person to lose confidence to self and due to being unmotivated it can affect the people around them and in academic studies.

Tradition can also be preserved even though there is deviance, it can be preserved by Sharing your culture's art and technology. Each culture has its own clothing, music, visual art, storytelling traditions, and many more unique characteristics. Other members of your culture will be overjoyed to teach or talk about their hobbies, their jobs, their crafts, and what they do for fun. This includes traditional artwork you would find in a museum, but material culture goes far beyond that. Even a kitchen spoon or a piece of software is a cultural artifact. People with less sophisticated technology are often considered ignorant or less intelligent. This is completely wrong. Culture passes on tools adapted to a particular environment, and every tool has generations of thinking behind it. Shaping a stone tool is one of the oldest cultural practices there is, and it still takes great skill and knowledge. Cook family recipes. It's never too late to whip up some recipes from your grandmother's cookbook. Smell and taste have powerful connections to memory. As you knead dough or try to guess the right amount of spices, you might remember meals from you childhood or holidays. Just reading a recipe can teach you how much ingredients and kitchen tools have changed. And even if some of them are unfamiliar, others have most likely become your comfort food or a source of family pride, even though these are simple things it is very effective in preserving the traditions you grew up to have another way to preserve tradition is to Accept change. The dialogue around passing on culture often sounds defeatist. Cultures are "endangered" or need "preserving" before they die out. Real challenges and threats do exist, but don't assume that all change is bad. Culture helps people adapt to the world around them. The world has always been changing, cultures have always been adapting, and it's up to you to choose a direction you can be proud of. Almost everyone participates in more than one culture. Be proud of your blend of ideas and behaviors, Talk about it and share it with other people. People are often fascinated by the different ways that people do similar things. Start a conversation and help bring others into the fold, sharing your culture is a good way to connect with other people, therefore the society can still embrace deviance and traditions. Some individuals use technology as a means of deviating from more traditional cultural norms. For example, in the United States, employees in offices are encouraged to remain productive and efficient, letting their minds wander off-task as little as possible. In the past decade, most companies have installed high-speed internet access as a means of improving efficiency. However, employees often appropriate the internet access to avoid work by using social networking sites. Such procrastination and corporate inefficiency stemming from internet access is called “cyber loafing”, but even though employees cyber loaf it the installation of high speed internet connection has motivated the employees to work faster.

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