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stillness-in-green · 3 years

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Thoughts on Chapter 314 (and surrounding events)

Being a loose summary of several things I thought about in relation to the leaks, what they say about the series as a whole, a bit of new operating headcanon on the Peerless Thief, and a dash of how fandom is responding to the revelations. Spoilers, obviously.

This chapter makes it quite clear that the HPSC absolutely would have gone in and eliminated the PLF quietly, lethally, and wholly unlawfully if Hawks hadn't reported back the numbers that he did. The only reason the raid involved non-Commission-affiliated heroes at all is because the PLF's manpower was simply too much for the Commission to deal with via their usual methods. I'm both appalled that the disregard for human rights in HeroAca Land is somehow even worse than I thought it was and smug that that tiny little piece I recently posted criticizing the PLF's treatment has turned out to be totally justified and supported by the canon.[1] (Note that this does not absolve Horikoshi of the responsibility to, himself, treat the PLF better than paper dolls tossed into the incinerator of Plot Irrelevance when they cease being convenient to his story.) The fact that the Commission was forced to involve heroes might mean Re-Destro, Mr. Compress and the others are somewhat safer than might otherwise be the case. Because of the involvement of the unsuspecting stooges law-abiding heroes, and because the botched raid became such a huge disaster, there’s far more public scrutiny on this than would otherwise be the case. Of course, "accidents" can still happen,[2] especially in a chaotic environment, but the factors above (combined with Clone!RD murdering the bejeezus out of the Lady Prez) do, I think, suggest that there probably isn't an organized push for quick solutions going on behind closed doors.

I don't think Nagant has been around for a terribly long time or that there was an uptick in vigilantism in recent years—I think the scene where she mentions vigilantes becoming accepted as heroes is just in reference to the early history of heroism. It's in keeping with what Tsukauchi Makoto described in Vigilantes, and forms the basis of the current system—the current system that Nagant was a single cog in a big machine grinding away to preserve.

Speaking of Nagant and the system, it's interesting to me that one of the groups Nagant apparently targeted at the HPSC's behest was corrupt heroes—those who colluded with villains or specifically goaded/incited civilians into using their quirks illegally, thus turning civilians into capital-V Villains in the eyes of the law. One might easily say that targeting corrupt heroes (albeit using a much broader definition of "corrupt") was Stain's whole shtick, but it actually puts me more in mind of the Peerless Thief, Harima Oji. Harima punished greedy or corrupt heroes with theft, and presumably with a measure of declaration and exposure,[3] then distributed their money back to the streets. Someone who ridicules those who abuse their power, and gets away with it for long enough to build a reputation: that right there is a recipe for a folk hero. The HPSC, in whatever form they existed at the time, obviously couldn't let that go on—such repeated humiliations would weaken peoples’ faith in (and obedience to) the system the HPSC was trying to build. At the same time, though, it would also weaken faith in the system to openly acknowledge that system's flaws, to acknowledge that some pretty awful people had found their way into the heroics business specifically for the power and ability to abuse it that the title of Hero afforded them. Public trials would make it a matter of record that some heroes—and, accordingly, heroes at large—did not deserve the public's unquestioning faith. Obviously in a system that was built from the ground up on faith, that was unacceptable. And so Harima was branded a supervillain for exposing the system's flaws, while the corrupt heroes who embodied those flaws to begin with were—and continue to be—quietly disposed of at the HPSC’s discretion.

There's a lot of talk around about how Lady Nagant is stupid, or hypocritical, or delusional, or whatever other dismissive adjective people want to use, because she expresses a preference for AFO's rule over the HPSC's. Firstly, I think it's dubious Lit Crit to fault a character for not being a Paragon of Rationality, especially when they're under the cascading stressors Nagant has been under since she was, what, 13? 14? Forced to live this dichotomy of smiling gallant hero and ruthless covert assassin, had her life threatened by the man who'd taken her in,[4] probably dumped in Tartarus until such time as her trial could be held,[5] and kept in those ghastly, dehumanizing conditions for who knows how long? How shocking, that her objectivity might be somewhat compromised! Secondly, it's not like she's saying that AFO's rule would be a sunny walk in the park. The kanji she uses doesn't even mean "better"; while it can mean serene or tranquil, her more likely meaning is clear/transparent. Her phrasing indicates that she's aware it would be pretty bad; she's simply of the opinion that at least his rule wouldn't be a sham, a pretty lie. It would be bad, but everyone would know it. No one would have these comforting illusions they could lose at any time; if you stepped out of line and got shot in the head by an assassin, well, at least you would probably know you that being defiant was running that risk, rather than never seeing it coming because you'd been told all your life that Heroes Didn't Do That To People. Again, this is a woman whose life was shattered no less than three times by the duplicity of the highest acting authority in this comic.[6] She doesn't have to be Objectively Correct By The Standards Of Ethical Utilitarianism—nor do you have to agree with her choice that because she doesn’t want to live in the Matrix, no one else should get to either—for her opinion to make sense from her own perspective! Thirdly, while I think it's fair to say that the HPSC and AFO actually use fairly similar methods to recruit followers and punish dissenters, we have no idea how much Nagant herself knows about AFO's recruitment tactics other than her own brief experience of it. And while AFO is a controlling and manipulative bastard, at least in his case it's coming from a man who openly styles himself as a Demon King, not an organization positioning itself as lawful regulators of the protectors of society at large while secretly training child soldiers to flagrantly violate every law protecting the human rights and due process of that society's people.

Overhaul's presence is delightful, and yes, he is a victim of Hero Society, if only because Hero Society could have put him in some kind of prison-based rehab facility after Shigaraki was through with him, but chose to dispose of him in Tartarus instead, for absolutely no justifiable cause. I suspect it's only due to Horikoshi not being very interested in the harsh realities of the trauma caused by enforced isolation[7] that Overhaul is the only Tartarus escapee that talks to himself and has dissociated from reality almost completely. Overhaul's maiming was not the fault of Hero Society, nor did Hero Society force him to torture Eri and repeatedly commit cold-blooded murder. But his madness? Yeah, I'm pretty comfortable laying that one at Hero Society's feet, actually. I can’t wait for Deku to have to face the victim that Chisaki Kai has become due to levels of systemic cruelty and negligence that really ought to be criminal—and which, if this were real life, would be.

--------Lately, footnotes are really popular with us!--------

[1] Lady Nagant: *talks about how the Hero Society everyone believes in is illusory, a thin fake over a brutal reality, and that returning to the false simplicity of that status quo will only cause history to repeat itself* Me, two weeks ago: Hero Society will never stop creating its own villains so long as, every time it fails people, it does nothing but shrug and write off the victims as unavoidable, inevitable sacrifices for the greater good.

[2] Yes, I'm still highly suspicious of the "Destro committed suicide in prison" claim.

[3] Compress tells us Harima “preached reformation,” but regardless, you don’t dress up in a modified kabuki costume and waltz midair through nighttime cityscapes raining cash out of the sky if you’re trying to keep your activities a secret.

[4] And her family situation couldn't have been much better than Hawks', if she was targeted by the HPSC to begin with. I would guess she was an orphan in the childcare system, easy to move from whatever alternative care arrangement she was in, be it an orphanage, a group home, or simply mature enough despite her relative youth that she lived alone on government support payments—that kind of thing isn't as unbelievable in Japan as it is in the U.S.—to the HPSC's care.

[5] And given what we learned between this chapter and 297, I doubt she was even allowed to be present for it. Japanese law states that everyone by default is supposed to be present for their own trial, but as in the U.S, that right can be waived if the defendant proves themselves to be a threat to the safety of the judge, court staff and other attendees. And of course, what a threat the HPSC could have painted her as being!

[6] At least until Hori deigns to show us a damn Diet session.

[7] To say nothing of the physical consequences of spending six months stuck in a tiny room with no natural light while frequently being strapped into a straitjacket, of which there should also be several.

#bnha spoilers #bnha 314 #boku no hero academia #hero public safety commission #paranormal liberation front #harima oji #lady nagant #overhaul bnha #my writing?

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writings-from-the-hart · 4 years

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Happy Meet and Greet Monday! For whicher character wants to answer: What do you do when you can't sleep? How does it affect you the next morning? What kinds of things keep you up at night?

Happy Meet and Greet Monday!

So sorry I’ve been answering asks kinda late, there’s just been a lot happening lately at home and work so as anyone can imagine the stress is real. My dog Max who I’ve had for twelve years just recently passed away and even though I knew he was an older dog and to expect it I wasn’t ready to let him go. . . Then again nobody is ever ready to let go of a loved one no matter the circumstances. So ya, there’s a tiny slice of my life, I try to not put too much of it out there but I wanted to explain my sudden absence.

Question: What do you do when you can’t sleep? What kinds of things keep you up at night? How does it affect you the next morning?

Eric: Constantly on guard for something Eric is the lightest sleeper out of everyone in the House of Cards, a feather falling on the carpet could wake him up, and he’s as stiff as a board when he’s sleeping. Not much happens in Eric’s mind when he’s sleeping, a dream hasn’t occurred in his life since he was eight, and he prefers it that way so he takes medicine for what used to be insomnia. “I’ve let go of my dreams and the idea of monsters living underneath the bed. I’m not a child, so why would I need dreams while I sleep?” However, everything isn’t what Eric wants it to be — he’s beginning to learn that being the commander of the House of Cards — and sometimes a vague night terror will send him bolting up in bed drenched in a cold sweat but with no recollection of what he was dreaming about. When things like this disrupt his “usual sleep cycle” he simply finds something to calm his nerves; such things include his boxing hobby or smoking a cigarette in a secluded area where he won’t get caught. These “disturbances” usually don’t affect his mornings as Eric is a natural early bird, but there have been certain cases where he’s remembered fragments of these night terrors and they stick with him for days at a time.

Valentina: Valentina hasn’t gotten a good sleep since she was twelve and constantly lives on a max of four hours of sleep, anything above that seems suspicious to her or she was probably unconscious from some kind of wound she suffered from. One time she “fell” from a two-story building and suffered a severe concussion and broken arm, she slept for six hours for a week straight. However, when Valentina can’t sleep she spends time cleaning weapons, tending to what little plants she owns at her home, going for a drive around whatever city-state she’s currently in, and planning the next string of “assignments” she’ll do next. She is plagued by constant nightmares and night terrors about certain events in the past she wishes to forget forever. “You can’t outrun the past; it’ll eventually find you, hunt you down and strangle you to death like anything else.” Since she’s been living with these nightmares and night terrors for over fourteen years her mornings aren’t super affected but instead, it’s rather routine to be running on roughly four hours of sleep. Her body has adapted to it by running on a “polyphasic sleep cycle,” meaning Valentina sleeps for thirty minutes every four or five hours for a daily total of only four hours of sleep. “It’s called a micro-nap and yes I’m fine.”

Xavier: “Get much-needed work done in the workshop.” Xavier’s workshop is a place created out of labor and love, full of his favorite things and stuff he loves to do, it’s his “happy place” as well as “hiding place.” While it’s not as expansive or nice as his actual workshop at his home base in Eshar Xavier has come to love the workshop at Blackwell. Very few things keep Xavier up at night, Valentina says he sleeps like the dead, “Silent and unmoving, you sometimes forget he’s even there.” But what does keep him up are things relatively new to him. Being the youngest out of all of the House of Cards (19) and practically a child compared to the others Xavier has never seen battle or warfare, only on holofilms about the history of the Republic, so new fears about blaster bolts, bombs, and ion blades fill his mind. The nightmares will keep him up all night, so he’ll retreat to his workshop to “get work done” till the sun rises again and there are dark circles under his eyes.

Eris & Brazen: After certain events in the past the twins never sleep alone; they can always be found curled up beside one another or Eris hogging the whole bed sprawled out like a starfish while Brazen hoards all the blankets. It’s the only way the pair can achieve a somewhat peaceful sleep with as few night terrors as possible, but even if a night terror does strike the other is there to provide comfort. On nights when either Eris is restless or Brazen can’t close his eyes without fear and the night terrors are relentless the twins do something called Mindscape. “It’s like creating a world outside of this one, but everything is different. . . Everything is okay.” It’s an activity only the twins are capable of doing because it requires the special bond that they both have and to be able to meld the mind with another person. A Mindscape will chase off night terrors or other kinds of sleep disturbances (nightmares) and allow the twins to create a space of peace and serenity within their minds. But because Mindscaping takes an extreme amount of energy to do the twins will sleep extremely hard and soundly, meaning they will not want to wake up the next morning without a fight. “Reality sucks to live in sometimes

Adira: “The night is simply a reflection of the day. There is nothing I can do about dreams; I can only change my pattern of life.” Like anyone else, there are nights when sleep is abundant and joyous or there are nights when sleep is absent and hellish. There are many lessons Adira learned from her Sensei Jia Wu but one of the important ones is “Mindfulness through meditation.” “You cannot, per se, tame the mind or tell it how to act. The mind has to come to a natural state of rest all on its own; all we can do is relax and remain present in the world.” Adira knows what troubles her and the grief that clouds her vision sometimes, so on sleepless nights she utilizes this time to reflect on her inner self through meditation instead of unhealthy rumination.

Dante: “Vodka solves everything.” Dante doesn’t have the healthiest of coping mechanisms when it comes to his insomnia, nightmares, or life’s problems as a whole. He won’t tell anyone or confess to it out loud but Dante has many inner demons to fight and some days it’s too much to handle, so he just disappears down a bottle when he can. In the confines of his quarters Dante will try to tire himself out through exercise in order to find sleep before picking up his flask, but some nights his demons have a stronger hold on him than he can fight off. Being a gladiator in the pits of Ares there is a multitude of things that keep Dante from getting a peaceful sleep, but there are also things long before he was gladiator that keep him up well into the morning and even afraid of falling asleep. “Some wounds run deeper than the flesh and blood of a man; not all scars fade with time.” Dante takes one day at a time and the same goes for his mornings, some mornings are plagued by tiny headaches while others it feels as if his head is about to be split open. But he’s a warrior by trade and he knows he can weather just about any storm or fight.

Mallory: Normally Mallory doesn’t leave any time for sleep; she’s an extreme night owl, morning bird, and all-around functioning insomniac. “Sleep is an unnecessary requirement to live. I don’t need sleep to live I need entertainment.” Now that she’s confined to Blackwell and its military base along with the rest of the House of Cards she’s left to face herself and the reason as to why she avoids sleep. So Mallory has found multiple ways to sneak out of her quarters and wander the military base the House of Cards is confined in. However, her favorite place to seek solitude in is the kitchen. Mallory is a stress baker and loves to cook, this is knowledge she will take to the grave with her and nobody else will know, so once she found out where the kitchen was and that it wasn’t staffed at certain hours she started going there when she couldn’t sleep. The thing is Mallory doesn’t cook or bake for herself, she makes food for an army but she can’t throw away the leftovers because she considers them labors of love, so from time to time the squad eats food she has made and left in the kitchen for the cooks to serve. The cooking and baking takes her mind off certain things like why she’s with the House of Cards in the first place and the reason for why she’s on the run from certain people of power. Since Mallory is a born night owl, morning bird, and all-around functioning insomniac in the morning it doesn’t look like she’s spent an entire night with only two or three hours of restless sleep, instead, she’s full of energy and ready to kick ass. “Sleep is only a concept; a concept I’ll avoid if I can.”

Thanks for the ask! Happy Writing!

#wip: renegade #my ocs #my ocs: the house of cards #meet and greet monday #wip ask game

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cadcnce-archived · 4 years

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“ Tch. Well - Don’t sleep too long. I do like gossiping with you, after all. ” After speaking, she pauses to nestle in a little deeper into his clutch. The security of his grip was assuring, very assuring. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt like she could sleep like this, too. She wouldn’t, though. The wagon still had a few more hours to go before they reached their destination, back home. “ Try not to snore too loudly, or I’ll plug your nose. ” A last little playful warning before he would, as he stated, fall asleep. It started off peaceful, quiet, the gentle bumps in the road never being too much to handle. It wasn’t until the dreams started to settle in that it went from a peaceful, fitful sleep into something much, much more grimdark.

_______________________________________________

Wylan startles himself awake within a dark cavern. Water drips down slowly and methodically from the ceiling, filling the cavern with a sense of unease. At first, it is too hard to see anything. He could barely make out the walls of the cavern at all, barely even make out his own arms and legs because the darkness was just so encompassing it blinded everything but the immediate air around him.

When he tries to move, he would find that his arms and legs had all been bound against the hard rock beneath him. Metal braces pinned to the ground with metallic stakes, with short chains keeping his arms and legs against the rocky formation. It was only then did he realize he wasn’t on the floor at all. He was bound against the wall, hung there like a prisoner and kept aloft by the chains bound against his sore wrists and ankles.

The dripping of the water overhead became even louder. That’s when it became clear that the dripping wasn’t water. It wasn’t water at all. It was blood. But it wasn’t his blood.

The darkness fades away even more - ahead of him, he could see someone else, bound to the other side of the cave in a much similar fashion as he. A pink-haired girl, head down, arms hanging above her head, blood smearing her face, her clothes, and dripping off of her shoes and onto the floor alone. If he dared looked down, the river of blood that had poured from her body was soaking in a field of dying red blossoms - all of which were being overlooked by men who wore dark, black gowns with cowls that hid their faces. In their hands, they carried dark books, each of which were opened to their faces, chanted to as if they were summoning a demon. The swirling gibberish of their words is lost in the haze of death and decay surrounding him.

Among them was a single voice - a voice he hated. A voice he was familiar with. A woman who stood beyond them all, chanting with them, in solidarity. The dark-haired, long-gowned woman slowly turned around so that her face was visible to Wylan’s.

It was Eris’s face. So gentle, so sincere, so pure - and all of it was accompanied by the presence of a disgusting smear of rotten blood and gore that drenched the entire front half of her body.

“ Wylan…? ” She would speak, so quietly, so softly, approaching him with her hands out, wide and open, as if preparing to hug him. “ Why didn’t you save her, Wylan? You were so attached, yet you left her to die? ”

Wylan. Wylan. Wylan. His name echoed, repeated by the cultists around her. She continues approaching him, stepping onto what seemed to be some form of invisible footstep. Every step she took toward him started to change her appearance more and more. She was taking on the appearance of Ram. “ Why didn’t you save me, Wylan? ”

Wylan. Wylan. Wylan.

The air grows colder as she reaches forward. Her hands were so much like Ram’s.

Wylan…. Wylan… Wylan…

She reaches forward, to touch his face, with her blood-smeared hands. Her pink eyes held so much greyness to them now. They were not Ram’s own.

Wylan… Wylan!

_______________________________________________

“ Wylan! ”

He’d wake up with a start as Ram struggled in his grip. His hold on her had become tight, tight, tighter, almost to the point of squeezing the everliving daylights out of her. She felt a wetness from his face his the top of her head, soaking into her hair. “ You’re squishing me! Wylan! ”

When she finally comes free from his grip, she takes a second to look behind her and at his face – and she can see the terror in his eyes. Her aggravation almost immediately dies down, replaced instead with outright concern. “ I– Wylan… what happened? Are you feeling well..? ”

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

Well, he’s of a mind to tell her that plugging his nose isn’t the right way to go about ceasing his snoring, but he’s more of a mind to sleep and relax. He hadn’t captured much the previous night for one reason or another when he and Ram were out travelling. This was a good chance before he went into recording and charting out what they had learned as a result of their latest foray. Was it too soon to think they were making progress? Maybe... but for now.... he lets himself drift, savoring the warmth of the pink haired maiden and her heart beating so close to his.

............

...............city noises....... people laughing.......... a vague sense of holding a hand...

.............”I’ll keep supporting you, Ze.”

.........”You’re making a mistake. This place is good for you... we can...”

“Come home safely, ok sweety?”

.......................

Wylan’s dreams followed typical patterns. Reminding him of his missteps. Reminding him of what he’d left behind and what he could no longer have again. First it was the order. Then it was his family. Then it was his honor. These things weren’t easily forsaken, and yet he’d done them in childish fits of anger. His uncertainty and sense of purpose broken and leading him further astray for what must be a better answer.

There’s no point in fighting these dreams. They’re sensations he burns as fuel in the fire to keep him going. If he can’t turn back, what choice does he have but to move forward and keep searching? Something to make him feel alive again. Something to make him feel like he has meaning again. But now that his sister was gone it felt like the rock in his life, the last bastion of a home and family had gone away. He never really changed did he? Look at him, on a death march for revenge driven by grief.

It’s no wonder that he--

The dream breaks as quickly as someone tearing away a sheet from a bed. One moment he’s sinking and ephemerally experiencing his mistakes, the next he was in a cave. Somewhere dark. Somewhere he didn’t recognize. It only takes a single moment, a single taste of that darkness to know this wasn’t his dream anymore. It was hers. He feels the restraints on his arms and legs as soon as he realizes he’s strung up, and he knows better than to fight against them. Knows better than to expect anything other than--

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The darkness fades further back around him, he’s not alone in this chamber. It only takes a brief moment for the other figure across to come into focus that he knows what he’s going to see. What they were trying to do. It was like--

“FUCK!!!” He can’t hold his gaze on the sight of Ram for more than the moment to recognize what he saw and the state of her body. His guts already were starting to rebel. It’s not really her. This isn’t real. She’s in your arms and you’re keeping her safe. You’ve involved he-- Fuck. Fuck!! You’ve fucking involved her, now! But how the fuck did Eris know?!

He doesn’t need to regard the cultists or the dying red blossoms with more than a glance. The pathetic attempt at being symbolic wouldn’t move him in any way. The cleric didn’t even use cultists. Seeing Ram was--

He hisses his breath, trying to keep himself calm. She’s coming. She’s coming. He doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that she’s looking at him, that she’s down there. He doesn’t need to, and yet he’s compelled to open his eyes. An errant glimpse of Ram chokes him up again before he settles his gaze down on the archbishop herself. Smiling her sweet smile with her serene gaze. The one she gets in return is steel. Molten and hot with tempered rage glowing hotter as she approaches him with rotten honeyed words.

She keeps talking, and he keeps watching. A cacophony of emotions run through his veins and his lips as they twitch and snarl at her. But his eyes remain fixed. She talks and she questions. And he watches. He stares and he bores his gaze into her. Rhetorical questions of lies she tries to seed into his psyche. She doesn’t know him. She doesn’t know who he is aside from what she’s straining from his errant thoughts and what she gleamed from his sister.

He wonders- If Katelynn warned her. He wonders- If she knows why his sister didn’t spend more time with him. He wonders- If she knew that Katelynn had been scared of him. If--

She’s changing her appearance, and perhaps she finally manages to shake him as the telltale features of Ram take the place of the cleric’s. Yet her voice stayed the same, buzzing in his head like hornets. Her hand reaches out to touch him with Ram’s blood. He looks ready to vomit at the thought of having to be in contact with this wretch of a being. To have the gall to take on her appearance, speaking as if she could grasp the depth of his intentions. How far he was going to go for this.

Eris knows nothing about the man she was dealing with if she’s asking those questions of him. She has nothing on him but haunting images of the people he cares about. Show him his sister. Show him Ram. Bring tears to his face. Make him bleed and feel all the pain. Make him scream again with her despair.

It’s changing nothing.

“I’m coming for you, Eris...”

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

He’s wakened by Ram’s voice, and perhaps just in time realizing how hard his body had been tensing and squeezing against hers. He lets it go, lets out the tension and gasps for air as he collapses back against the wall of the carriage with sweat pouring down his face. Deep breaths. Don’t lose control and hyperventilate like some pickled idiot. Instinctively he brings his hold back onto Ram, holding her closer to his chest and sighing heavily into her hair. Soft and sweet. Still alive. He lets his eyes close momentarily, though Ram could certainly feel him twitching. Something was very wrong with what had just happened. And yet Wylan doesn’t seem upset about it.

Not like last time.

“....another dream with her. ...We’re on the right track. We’re getting closer.”

He wouldn’t be letting go of Ram for the rest of the day.

#onlyhorn #inbox :: submission #inbox :: answered ic #verse :: fantasy #now that's a spicy meatball #submission

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ipraygreywords · 5 years

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Slayers Week 2 Day 2: Villains

But is he really?

“I am both better and worse than you thought” (Sylvia Plath).

Of all the many characters for whom I have written, none is more difficult to pinpoint than Rezo, in this particular regard. This is the man who heals stray kittens for little boys when nobody is looking, who devoted 150 years of life to traveling nonstop and healing hundreds of thousands of people of illness, but also steals another preteen boy’s body for the chance to cure his own blindness. See what I mean?

My ultimate conclusion is that Rezo is a good person who has had to compensate for personal impediments using opportunistic means, and because Rezo was never fully in control of Rezo’s own judgment or Rezo’s own choices, these actions became increasingly abhorrent in the two to three years before his death: but he still did a great deal of good in his life, and, were he to live free of that influence, he would be unequivocally good. That is WHY he was chosen to be corrupted. Bad people attack symbols of goodness to demoralize their enemies. But let me back up. Because woosh. This is a complex topic.

Sussing out Rezo’s moral alignment is difficult because Rezo, as we see him in canon, never does anything without the powerful, corrupting presence of a ma-oh (the strongest tier of demon in all his world, one of only four in the universe, who are eclipsed by only one other being) which was affixed to his soul from birth. This ma-oh (the mouthful name of “Ruby-Eyed Shabranigdu”) chose Rezo intentionally as a vessel, from which he hoped to eventually be resurrected (in the process, killing Rezo–a fact which alone is intriguing, because Shabranigdu has done this before to other humans, who survived his resurrected and far more comfortably cohabited with him). So when one analyzes Rezo’s actions as a human being, one always has to try and separate out Shabranigdu’s manipulations from Rezo’s natural inclinations. Let’s get a couple (overly simplistic, imho) anti arguments out of the way first:

–People who dislike Rezo often point out that Shabranigdu picked Rezo because he saw vulnerabilities that he could exploit to the point of serious moral corruption. That means it was possible to break Rezo: but I–and Lina Inverse, the chief protagonist of the Slayers series–believe that still doesn’t condemn Rezo as a “bad” or “weak” person. It just means that Shabranigdu, who is a master manipulator, could find a strategy with which to erode Rezo’s will. I also believe that because Rezo was born with a famously powerful capacity for white/healing magic, and a demonstrable urge to serve others in ways that could not possibly benefit him, Shabranigdu thought it would be perversely hilarious to target a cleric: a person in whom people placed their trust, to have their best interests at heart, and to make them well. (Shabranigdu’s main goal is to wreak despair and violence on the world, and return it to a state of chaos, so why not take down a few more people beyond Rezo, ruin their faith in the benevolence of their healers, while he’s at it? But I’ll get to this more later.)

–People who dislike Rezo also often assume that Shabranigdu was the cause of Rezo’s eyes being sealed shut, causing him “blindness,” from birth. Why is this important to your question? Because when we analyze the series more closely, it becomes clear that Rezo’s eyes are a protective seal AGAINST Shabranigdu’s resurrection, which means that the ma-oh cannot complete his resurrection unless Rezo opens his eyes (we see this both in Slayers Season One and in Slayers Evolution-R). When Rezo was born, his eyes acted as a failsafe shielding the world FROM Shabranigdu. Shabranigdu had to act against that failsafe to be reborn. So Shabranigdu turned the VIRTUE of the sealed-shut eyes into a HANDICAP which embarrassed, discouraged, and isolated Rezo, because he could cure everyone else with his amazing healing skills, but not himself (and even a saint must eventually feel jealousy and resentment from that)–such that EVEN THE THING THAT MADE HIM FAMOUS, AND GOOD, AND LOVED BY OTHERS, BECAME A SYMBOL OF “BUT NOT YOU: YOU DON’T GET TO BE HAPPY LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. NEVER YOU.” A person who is depressed and angry and alone is much easier to break. See below.

–People who dislike Rezo almost always cite what he did to his own grandson Zelgadis as the most condemnation-worthy “evidence” that he is rotten to the core. While there is NO EXCUSING WHAT HE DID, and I will NEVER think what he did is okay, I could not disagree with these individuals more. Rezo is capable of forming and maintaining loving attachments; in the end, Shabranigdu USES precisely those loving attachments to isolate Rezo, by perverting their purity, and breaking his loved ones WITH HIS OWN HANDS. What better way to demoralize a good person than to make them SEEM to choose being a monster? There are actual contemporary scientific studies that prove that one of the best ways to torture prisoners of war is to make them torture others. It dehumanizes them, renders them weapons, and lowers their resolve to fight back. This is what happened when Rezo took Zelgadis’s words “we need to do small evils for great good, and get stronger” and twisted them into an excuse to make Zelgadis a chimera–effectively alienating Zelgadis from the world just as Shabrranigdu had Rezo–as part of his research to cure his own eyes. (People reading this who have the “but he knew Zel could never be cured, and Evo-R proves that!” rebuttal, let me know, because I have a whole separate meta theory on that, which does not exonerate Rezo, but does cast serious doubt on the allegation that the chimera process can never be reversed). –Rezo does terrible evils (the other big whoppers are creating and experimenting on a clone of himself, and deliberately spreading a disease to an isolated kingdom to take advantage of its ill as test subjects). But, and while this isn’t a make it or break it thing, he lso more than once shows genuine contrition for the evil he has done, when it will benefit him in no way to do so. This is rare, and sometimes it is on the tail end of a lot of emotionally manipulative bargaining and self-justification (borne primarily of pride), but he has either apologized or openly acknowledged that his choices were evil and unconscionable, on both the occasions that he was confronted by the heroes for his choices. –People who dislike Rezo like to say “he only started his white magical career to try and heal his own eyes!” to which I answer: yes, and? The subsequent entire life he spent healing people while continuing to master other magics to heal himself were not mandatory. No one was forcing Rezo to share his findings with others. That was an act of selflessness. –Both times that Shabranigdu is reborn out of Rezo (which…rips apart his body, fun times) and he realizes it, he helps the heroes kill Shabranigdu, and without him they would have failed to do so. Which. You know. BIG INDICATION that he’s not, at heart, a bad guy lol. –Rezo plans ahead to try to do damage control for potential collateral, when he does selfish and reckless things. It’s usually not enough, and he puts new meaning to the word “quixotic.” But it still matters for the purposes of your question. For instance, when he finally breaks down and chooses to resurrect Shabranigdu, he plans to create an arguably evenly-matched creature called a “Zanaffar” with which to kill the demon the moment he gains vision. He also creates laboratories deep underground so that explosions can be contained and do less damage to the surrounding area. He also thinks (wrongly) that he can heal all the people in Taforashia before they die, once he can see. Rezo’s fatal flaw in all these cases is to assume, out of desperation, that he is capable of more than any one human being ever could be.

Which is not good or evil, really, but HUMAN: pulling us back toward a consistent, perennial theme of Slayers, that humans are flawed but redeemable creatures, neither gods nor demons, who exist to maintain the *balance* of the cosmos (the true plan, according to Xelloss, of the most powerful of all beings, referred to as LoN).

–People expect too much of Rezo, which I think was a genuine, conscious point the Slayers writers wanted to make.

It doesn’t excuse anything he did that was evil. At the same time, there are two ways to dehumanize a person. One is to vilify them.

The other is to idolize them. Zelgadis idolized Rezo. Eris idolized Rezo. Pokota idolized Rezo. And Rezo took advantage of that, and that’s wrong. But think about that for a moment. It is wrong, on a moral level, to idolize a living person, and expect god-tier ethical purity at all times and under all forms of pressure. It is wrong, and it is hurtful. Sometimes it’s done out of naivety, sometimes emotional codependence, but in any case, it is wrong. I speak here from painful experience on the receiving end of idolization. It exerts impossible pressure on a person. And it is scary.

Hundreds of thousands of sick and disabled people idolized Rezo. They built statues and made paintings of him. They installed him as one of the “Five Great Sages”–literally the most revered of magical users/scholars of ALL RECORDED HISTORY. They threw so much money at him that he owned “several” mansions by the time of his death. Rezo was good at maintaining the facade of authoritative serenity. But my God, was it ever that: a facade. He was tired, angry, and afraid: so afraid that he once told his servant Ozel, in strictest confidence, knowing she would tell no one else, and in a tone of deep depression, “Sometimes I lose my sense of what it is to be a person.”

And don’t we all know the feeling, when we too are at a crossroads? Isn’t that HUMAN?

I genuinely believe the Slayers writers wanted the audience to sort of meta-replicate the feelings of Rezo’s disciples, and expect Rezo to be a saint, and then be horrified and angry when his worst actions proved seriously otherwise. And then by the end of the story, I think they were meant to realize, this was just a guy. This was just a guy who had the rough equivalent of Satan possessing his body and soul, a guy who was meant to be a healer but had his whole life rendered a farce because of his own soul’s attempt to keep a monster sealed inside. Rezo became a living prison for a demon, and he could not contain it. No one, in fact, who has served as the vessel of Shabranigdu has been able, ultimately, to resist him.

#Rezo the Red Priest #Slayers Week #Rezo #Rezo Greywords

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pinkprogram · 5 years

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sibling update list for the iruY.

1. The Program: Me

2. The Senmurv: Okami

3. The Demon Hunter: Big Sister Yuri

4. The Wanderer: Big Brother Ryoga

5. The Wyrm: Nidhogg

6. The Eternity: Feng Huang

7. The Mud: Sehkmet

8. The Velocity: Velocity

9. The Swim: Nymph

10. The Wolf: Lupus

11. The Ax: Axe

12. The Heal: Amy

13. The Gill: Gill

14. The Gravity: Elizabeth

15. The Deep: Orcus

16. The Guardian: Susano Orbatos Vajra Arat

17. The Gun: Gun

18. The War: War

19. The Green: Leshy

20. The Weaver: Arachnea

21. The Gold: Aurora

22. The Surge: Adrenalynne

23. The Fear: Malphis

24. The Twist: Kushinada

25. The Sight: Delphina

26. The Sprite: Lime

27. The Warrior: Hunter

28. The Evolution: Genesis

29. The Chrysalis: Chrysalis

30. The Phantasm: Daniel

31. The Calm: Serenity

32. The Ship: Sylphe

33. The Chaos: KaOs (Kei)

34. The Luck: Kirin

35. The Mentat: Deckard

36. The Bear: Ursus

37. The Chalice Chalice

38. The Siren: Moiera

39. The Paladin: Simon

40. The Dance: Cluracan

41: The Golemim: Golem

42. The Dragon: Dracos

43. The Gate: Portal

44. The Mechanic: Vulcan

45. The Mischief: Eris

46. The Rot: Crucifer Rust

47. The Aether: Reiha

48. The Climb: Spider

49. The Echo: Echo

50. The Hawk: Hawk

51. The Warp: Washu

52. The Trumpet: Jericho Gabriel

53. The Entropy: Bagheera

54. The Radiance: Sierra

55. The Archive: Lina

56. The Flood: Noah

57. The Smile: Selkie

58: The Sentinel: Gemini

59. The Archer: Artemis

60. The Handmaiden: Sateva

61. The Rook: Bastion

62. The Excavator: Prithvi

63. The Crown: Keter

64. The Eden: Melusine

65. The Recall: Tengu

66. The Seeker: Petra

67. The Harbinger: Valkyrie

68. The Codex: Rosetta

69. The Paradox: Alice

70. The Storyteller: Shaharazad

71. The Atlas: Calypso

72. The Interloper: Enya

73. The Gremlin: Imp

74. The Tapestry: Verdandi

75. The Scribe: Callie

76. The Mercy: Morgaine

77. The Grace: Zephyr

78. The Sculptor: Tiamat

79. The Chimaera: Nyonye

80. The Godslayer: Modgud

81. The Inferno: Ifrit

82. The Hive: Hera

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dontshootmespence · 5 years

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Supernatural AU: Episode 6 - Shadow

Part 3

Meg, or what Sam thought was Meg, passed in front of the car so he ducked down and waited for her to pass before getting out and following her down a couple of dark alleyways. He wished he didn’t feel so creepy, but such was the job. Every step he took confirmed the suspicions that had slowly been creeping up on him since he’d seen her at that bar.

After a few blocks, Meg passed on old theater and entered a graffiti covered door to what looked like an abandoned warehouse. He allowed the door to shut, waiting a few seconds before he followed after, doing everything he could to remain as quiet as possible.

When he got inside, he found himself wondering what this place had actually been before it got condemned. Rusty metal surrounded him and the coppery scent of blood filled his nose. Who knew what the fuck had happened in here since it was abandoned? In order to keep out of her line of sight, he found an elevator shaft, at least that’s what it looked like, and cemented his footing, climbing up the rickety metal toward his destination. Each step sounded like a drum to his ears and he cursed himself for being so loud. If she was calling one of those things, he could be dead in an instant.

He kept climbing until he felt like his fingers were going to fall off, but he found renewed vigor when he saw a room with a table in the center - a black magic altar he’d seen many times before. Around the table stood mannequins and rusted bars and barrels full of scrap metal that all left Sam with an immense sense of unease. With rapt attention, he watched her lift a silver goblet and recite an incantation. “I don’t think you should come,” she said. “The brothers, their sister. They’re here. I didn’t know and-“ She got cut off, but Sam couldn’t hear by who. A few seconds later, she assured whatever she was speaking to that she would remain where she was and do as she was asked. “Yes, Sir. Yes, I’ll be there. Waiting for you.”

That couldn’t be the daeva right? Something or someone else had to be giving her instructions and she was using the daeva as a weapon? Whatever was on the other side of that goblet was another wrench in their already unsteady plan.

After ending her conversation, she placed the goblet back on the table and blew out the candles, watching as the wisps of smoke disappeared into the air before leaving.

With the slamming of the door, Sam climbed through a gap in the rusted bars and underneath a hunk of chains to snake his way into the room. The blood and bones and goblet were all there, but this time the symbol accompanied it, the blood still fresh and wet to the touch. “What the hell?”

------

Sam bounded back into the motel room in a huff, the door slamming against the wall so loudly it startled Dean and Bobbie mid-conversation. The two elder siblings ran outside, not realizing it was Sam at first. “Dude, I gotta talk to you.” Her brothers said simultaneously. Bobbie had no idea what was going on. Dean hadn’t gotten that far yet.

“Sam, what’d you find?” Bobbie asked. Both of her brothers were in a frenzy – more than usual, so something was out of the ordinary, even amongst the supernatural.

Meg was calling the daeva. “I knew it,” she spat. “I’ve had a bad feeling about her since we met her.”

“Sam’s got a thing for the bad girl, who would’ve known?” Dean teased, hissing as Bobbie smacked him on the back of the head. “What was that for?”

“Not the time, dude.”

Sam rolled his eyes, pacing the floors from the window to the bed as Bobbie and Dean walked around in other directions, all so full of nervous energy that it was either pace around the room or go out guns a blazing and shoot something. “What about the silver bowl?” Dean asked. “What was that about?”

“It was like a witch with a crystal ball. She was talking to someone or something through it.”

“The daeva?” Bobbie stopped in her tracks, muscles tight as her mind moved faster than her body could comprehend.

Sam shook his head. “No. They’re brutal, no holds barred. Whatever she was talking to was someone giving orders, someone she cared about or looked up to. There was a reverence in her voice. And whoever it is will be at that warehouse.”

Just as Bobbie was about to ask Dean what he was planning on telling her before, a look of recognition flashed across his eyes. He bolted across the room to the files he’d somehow gotten from the police officer he drank under the table earlier in the week. “Shit.”

“What?” She and Sam asked simultaneously.

He’d pulled a favor with her – what that meant Bobbie didn’t want to think about. “We missed a connection between the first two victims.”

Sam and Bobbie sat across from him, pulling the files toward them. Bobbie did a double-take between the files and her brother before he spoke. “Where was the first victim from?”

Scanning his files, she saw two words that made her stomach sink: Lawrence, Kansas.

Meredith was adopted and she’d been born in Lawrence too. “What the hell does this mean? Could they have something to do with Mom?”

“Possibly,” Sam sighed, his eyes fixed far off in the distance. He wasn’t allowing the information to penetrate, but not in the same way Bobbie was. She could feel an overwhelming sense of dread, but Sam…he had a hint of hope about him – like this could all be over soon. She only wished she could have his hope. “Meg could’ve been talking to the demon that killed Mom…”

Bobbie placed her head in her hands and swallowed the urge to scream. Granted, she wanted to find the thing that killed their mother, but getting close had always seemed impossible. “But how do the daevas fit in?”

“No clue,” Dean said confidently. “But I say we go trash the alter, grab Meg and get the information we need out of her.”

“We can’t. She can’t be tipped off. Especially if she has the power of these daevas on her side.”

When Dean found the information originally, Bobbie had delved deeper. Sam was right. Going after these things all gung ho was a mistake that would get them all killed, even if her overwhelming desire at the moment was to shoot something. If the daevas or Meg had any knowledge of what killed their mother, she wanted it writhing and bleeding and screaming for relief under her fingertips, but she wouldn’t be able to make that dream come true if Meg was tipped off and fled. And if her brothers were hurt in the crossfire it wasn’t worth it. “We need to know what’s showing up to met her.”

Rubbing the back of his head, Dean paced the room yet again. “If this is actually connected to Mom, we shouldn’t do this alone.”

Bobbie knew what he meant, but she had zero interest in talking to their father – not with how he’d left things recently, or ever really. “You call.”

Without another word, she left the room, tears stinging at her eyes as she tried to focus. Sam followed close behind. They needed to start raiding the trunk of the car. None of them really had an idea of what they were up against.

------

Upstairs, Dean dialed John’s phone number again, unsurprised when it went straight to voicemail. “Dad, I’m in Chicago with Bobbie and Sam. The thing we’re up against…” he hesitated, not believing that they could possibly be this close. “We think it might have something to do with Mom. 1435 West Erie. There’s a warehouse there. Please…if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can.”

As he hung up the phone, he wondered what would happen if he did get the message, his mind wandering to what Bobbie would do when she saw him again. She was so full of rage and while he was mad, he didn’t understand the depth of Bobbie’s anger for him.

When his brother and sister returned, Dean shook the uncertainties from his mind, astounded at the sheer amount of weapons they’d brought up. “Got enough? Overcompensating maybe?” Trademark deflection by Dean.

“We have no idea what we’re going up against,” Sam said matter-of-factly. “We should be ready for anything.” He didn’t want this life, but he had great intuition for it. “We have holy water, any weapon we could think of that might even do damage if not kill, exorcism rituals from nearly six different religions. If we don’t know what to expect, we should expect everything.”

All three of them delved into the horde of weapons, cleaning out barrels and ensuring that none of them were stuck. Safeties needed to be off. They needed everything taken care of beforehand. In the midst of it all, there would be no time.

Silence passed between them, the streets outside buzzing with people but bathed in a serene moonlight – like them, world alight with uncertainties and possibilities yet surrounded by the blissfully ignorant. “Big night,” Sam said, breaking the silence. “Nervous?”

Dean avoided looking at either of them but emphatically denied being nervous in the slightest. “You?”

“No.” Sam’s voice went an octave higher than it would normally. He was full of shit. They both were.

When they glanced her way, she spoke her truth. “Of course, I am. And you’re both fucking idiots if you’re not. I raised you better than that.” She wasn’t about to debate with them now – make them admit that they were in fact nervous – they had too much on their plates right now. If they lived through this though, Bobbie planned on having a good talk with them both. Strength wasn’t the absence of fear, it was resistance in the face of it. They were afraid, but neither wanted to admit it out loud.

“What if we found this thing tonight?” Sam asked, a smile crawling across his face.

Dean clicked back the barrel of the gun he was holding and switched it out for another. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“But seriously, imagine it,” he breathed. “We would find this thing tonight and it’d be over. I could go back to school and start living a normal life again.”

Normalcy was all Bobbie wanted for him, but she wasn’t so naïve to believe it could be true. “I’d sleep for a month.”

“That too. Then I’d go back to school.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably where he stood. She had Dean wanted the best for Sam, but more than any of them, Dean really held onto the good memories, the times where they felt like family, and he wanted that again. When he hunted with his siblings, he was in his element. “You wanna go back to school?”

“Yea, of course. What’ll you do when this is over?”

“It’s never gonna be over,” Dean replied. “There’ll always be something to hunt.” Sam turned toward Bobbie to try and get her to knock some sense into him but all she could do was shrug. Knowing what they knew, she couldn’t sit back in good conscience while people got hurt; it didn’t matter if she deserved normalcy just as much as her brothers.

Sam couldn’t understand. Maybe his brother and sister were just older so everything felt more ingrained, but he wanted to be normal again. He’d had it and it was glorious. “But there has to be something you want for yourself-“

“Yea, what I want is for you to leave after this is all over.”

“What’s your problem?”

A tear sprang to the corner of Bobbie’s eyes as she continued to fiddle with the guns. They only had each other. Why did they always have to fight? “Why do think we drag you around everywhere?” Dean asked, his knuckles turning white against the grip he had on the dresser. “Why do you think Bobbie and I came to get you at Stanford?”

“Because Dad was missing. Because you wanted help finding the thing that killed Mom.”

“Yea, but it was more than that.”

Bobbie prayed that Dean would actually tell Sam the truth. It probably wouldn’t change anything because if there’s anything a Winchester was it was stubborn, but keeping it all in was bound to make him explode sooner rather than later. “Me, you, Bobbie, Dad…we’ve been through crap, but we’ve had good moments. We could have those again. We could be a family again.”

Bobbie cursed their father for his vendetta. If he’d just let it go, they could’ve had a family – the normal life that Sam wanted, the family moments that Dean deserved. The idea of what could’ve been had it not been for John made her blood boil and she cursed the world that she still loved him.

“We are. But we can’t be what we were before.”

“We could be,” Dean said dejectedly, swallowing against the knot forming in his throat.

Sam’s memories were much more tainted. “I don’t want them to be the same. I’m not gonna live this life forever. Once this is over, you’re gonna have to let me go.”

Dean would fight it. Bobbie would do as he asked, but that didn’t mean she’d like it.

@remember-me-forever-silent-angel @gaylemonshark @marveldivergentouatdctvfangirl @lalirang @averagekansan @addsomesalt @stusbunker @sebba-hiddles @fanfictionrecommendations-com @hoppy519 @thatwrestlingfan91 @extremeobsessions101 @spence-imagines @bettercallsabs @whaaatthefuuuuck @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @your-imagination-runs-wild @cryinglots @steggy01 @gigilame @sedulous-mind @a-unique-girls-heaven @just-antiyou @rmmalta @original-criminal-fanfics @ties-n-suits @veroinnumera @eurusholmmes @fanficienjoyedreading @astridstark13 @ties-n-suits @demonlover87 @kennybud @shittyafblogwnopoint @pleasantlyfadingpeace @bulldozed88 @a-gir1-has-n0-name

#ocappreciation #supernatural #supernatural au #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobbie deanna winchester #born to fire #shadow #s1ep6 #dontshootmespence

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highness-fangs · 7 months

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eve recovered from that QUICK

I'm still scared shitless

"alpha!" I flinched irl

someone please get eris her emotional support demon, she needs them

#eris serenity #eris serenity asmr #eris serenity bigbad #eris serenity eve #eris serenity demon #eris serenity eris

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stresser · 7 years

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i’m bored so i did this

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? cereal then milk. 2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? i’m indifferent to the feeling. 3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? toilet paper or tissues lmao, and sometimes i dog-ear the pages. 4: how do you take your coffee/tea? coffee with french vanilla creamer, tea with sugar. 5: are you self-conscious of your smile? eh. 6: do you keep plants? i have fake plants. 7: do you name your plants? no. 8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? hmm, writing. 9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? yep. 10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? side. 11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? friends? 12: what's your favorite planet? eris, which is a dwarf planet. 13: what's something that made you smile today? playing the sims 3 pets. 14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? hardwood or concrete floors, eggshell-white walls decorated with minimalist-abstract art, open-concept living space, plants everywhere, white cabinets with wooden countertops in the kitchen, wooden beams on the ceiling, tall windows that look out onto the city. 15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! Neutron stars can spin at a rate of 600 rotations per second 16: what's your favorite pasta dish? fettuccine alfredo. 17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? right now it’s medium brown. i used to have it pink, and i’d like to switch back if it weren’t so much money and upkeep. 18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. umm... 19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? i don’t keep a journal. 20: what's your favorite eye color? brown or hazel. 21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. like a purse? i bought a michael kors purse (beige, over-the-shoulder, $150) almost three years ago that i still have and carry everywhere. it’s my only purse. 22: are you a morning person? ahha... no. 23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? sleep, play video games, bake, and write. 24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? yes. 25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? my own home. 26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? my mom’s old flipflops (used to be white, cheap, squeaky, always slip off my feet while i walk), which have somehow become mine. they’re super easy to put on when i’m in a hurry to go somewhere that doesn’t require a lot of walking. 27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? isn’t bubblegum a flavor? my favorite gum flavor is spearmint. 28: sunrise or sunset? sunset. 29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? it’s really cute how my friends don’t exist. 30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes 31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. i always lose and mismatch socks, so i typically only wear cheap white ones from wal mart. i steal my boyfriend’s socks a lot because i keep losing my own. i don’t know where they go. i also don’t have the money to just buy socks all the time, so if i bought some really cute patterned ones, i could see myself getting upset if i lost them (especially if they were expensive, like Nike, which like... how can people just have and afford Nike socks??) anyway, i can’t sleep with socks on. if i end up falling asleep without taking them off, they somehow come off in my sleep. 32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. it seems you’re under the impression that i have an extraordinarily active social life. 33: what's your fave pastry? baguettes 34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? i had a teddy bear named beary that my dog tore up when i was nine. 35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? i’m obsessed with stationary. i don’t use them i just like to look at them and organize them. 36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? whichever one sounds like an eternal groan. 37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? i like a clean room, but sometimes i’m too lazy to clean it. 38: tell us about your pet peeves! people who are unnecessarily loud (especially in the mornings), slow walkers, people who get to skip the entire line because their friends are at the front, people who talk shit about somebody but the next day are practically arm-and-arm with the person they’d just talked shit about, people who listen to their music on speakers rather than on earbuds/headphones (see above: “unnecessarily loud”), when you’re trying to spend time with someone and they’re looking at their phone the entire time, people who dislike something just because it’s “mainstream” and they want to be an asshole, children screaming and acting like demons in public. 39: what color do you wear the most? gray or black. 40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? i barely have any jewelry and what little jewelry i do have is from h&m and costs like six bucks. 41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? i don’t read a lot but i remember reading jellicoe road for summer reading in tenth grade, and i was really surprised because it was actually quite good. 42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! the best coffee shop i’ve ever been to is intellegiencia in downtown chicago. 43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? my boyfriend, probably? i don’t remember. 44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? umm??? 45: do you trust your instincts a lot? yes. 46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. not a pun: i used to like puns but people are overusing them to an extreme so now i can’t fucking stand them lol. 47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? sprouts. they’re like the pubes of nature. 48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? the dark, and although i’m still perpetually afraid of the dark, i have a bigger fear of heights. 49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? no, not really. the last cd i bought was probably when i was nine. 50: what's an odd thing you collect? stress. 51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? can’t think of anything. 52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? “sometimes things that are expensive..... are worse.” 53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i’ve watched heathers and beetlejuice in their entirety. i like them both but i have to be in a certain type of mood for them because they’re also a little weird. i’ve only seen the first part of pulp fiction because for some reason i keep falling asleep in that movie, lol. 54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? uhh?? 55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? i can’t think of anything right now but i don’t doubt that i’ve done something dramatic to prove a point. 56: what are some things you find endearing in people? i like when people are comfortable to be themselves and talk about themselves. i like being around people who don’t judge others. 57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? i’m sorry but i’m not listening to that song rn lol. 58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? i’m both 59: what's your favorite myth? the only one i can think of is from greek mythology where this man was transformed into a woman and then back into a man and then zeus and hera asked him/her which gender enjoyed sex more and the man/woman/man said the woman enjoyed it more so hera cursed him. lmfao it’s so obvious that a man wrote this myth, isn’t it? 60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? poetry is meh. 61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? i just gave my boyfriend a chess set except the chess pieces are shot glasses for his twenty-first birthday. the stupidest gift i’ve ever received... uhh, idk. 62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? no. 63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? leave them be. 64: what color is the sky where you are right now? dark. it’s... holy shit it’s 5am. 65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? my grandma. 66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? nonexistent. 67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? depends where i am. inside: i’m okay. outside, walking to class: gloomy, irritable, and tired. 68: what's winter like where you live? like summer. 69: what are your favorite board games? life, probably, because it doesn’t take too long. 70: have you ever used a ouija board? no. 71: what's your favorite kind of tea? sweet. 72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? for the most part, yeah. 73: what are some of your worst habits? biting my nails, eating too many carbs, not texting people back and isolating myself. 74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. how ‘bout this: no. 75: tell us about your pets! i have a palomino bunny who is a little over one year old and his name is bean. he’s very sociable but he sheds so much. i bought him from a rescue center three hours away last year. i also have a gray and white kitten who is three or four months old and her name is matilda. she’s very floppy and hyper. my mom found her in her backyard in the middle of the night and i decided to just keep her. 76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? sleeping! 77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink. 78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? hateclub! 79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? i once pointed to this really expensive perfume in sephora and said it was my favorite scent but i’ve never owned it before. my boyfriend went back and bought it and gifted it to me for our anniversary. 80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? beige, and no, i didn’t choose them; my landlord did, i guess. 81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. my boyfriend’s eyes: they’re like two hot cups of tea, swimming with honey and sugar, set beneath the window of a bright yet chilly morning. 82: are/were you good in school? i used to be good in high school but i’m hopeless in college. 83: what's some of your favorite album art? ??? 84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? i used to think that i wanted tattoos but then i realized how much it cost to get one. 85: do you read comics? what are your faves? no 86: do you like concept albums? which ones? no? i think? 87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? star wars (episodes iv-vi), titanic, the princess bride, batman: the dark knight. 88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? not really. 89: are you close to your parents? not really. 90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. i haven’t been to very many places but i loved fort myers, florida. there seemed to be so much to do around that area, and it was warm even in december. 91: where do you plan on traveling this year? playa del carmen, mexico. 92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? drowns pasta in cheese. 93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? “oops i forgot to brush my hair this morning after i got out of the shower and it’s still wet” 94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? my bf 95: what are your plans for this weekend? go grocery shopping 96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? procrastinate 97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? istp, gemini, slytherin 98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? about three months ago my family and i tried to hike up a mountain in june, but the trail was over three miles long so many of us quit halfway and headed back to the cars. 99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. n/a 100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? the past, because i want to enjoy being a kid again

#personal #me #september 10 2017

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obviousleeanonymous · 7 years

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Chutes and Ladders CH2

Summary: To climb to the top, you gotta fall down a chute or two or three or four… and break a few bones. But it’s okay, 'cause time heals all wounds. Right?

Chapter One

Chutes and Ladders Chapter Two: What an Awkward Fish

Not a clown, at least. From the furtive glances you stole, the blue haired man possessed a definitive boyish quality. Handsome, with nary a doubt, but room to grow still. Or perhaps his youthful visage would linger for many years hence. You grit your teeth—he still did not put on the seat belt!

Your hand halted momentarily over the radio dial before switching on the heat. Though the setting remained quite low, the sound blaringly sliced through the uncomfortable silence. You disliked new clients for this very reason—glancing at the time—you really did not like new clients at 2:17 in the morning. Should you speak, or wait for him first? Did he know his destination? Or did he not want the heat on—

“Is the heat okay?” you blurted.

God, why did you always speak your mind so untimely, so clumsily, so unprofessionally?

“Oh, it’s quite fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between long, slender fingers. Great, now you clearly annoyed him. Was he a model—you wagered on a hand model.

Biting your lip, you caught yourself before you fell further into tommyrot-ery.

“Know the coffee shop on 43rd Street?” If he seemed bothered, his face revealed nothing. He was probably great at poker, and played on the weekends in a speakeasy. With bourbon. He doesn’t smoke because you cannot catch the scent of tobacco on him.

“No, but I can get you there in a crash and a flash, Mr. Sweet Mask…” Why did he have such a weird name? Did he prefer a different title? “...Sir.”

He chuckled melodiously. Bets changed from hand model to singer... or former singer turned hand model. He definitely sang cheesy love songs from two generations ago in the shower. For sure. “Just ‘Sweet Mask’, if you would.”

Shit. You did it again!

Nodding, wordlessly because you lacked faith in your mouth-spewing, you began to drive into the heart of A-City. Compared to the bustle of day, traffic proved marginal, practically nonexistent, at best. All the better, for it gave you ample time to regulate your breathing and curb the glares at the seat belt not belted.

After roughly ten minutes of mundane maneuvering, you idled in front of Queegquegs. Sweet Mask, wearing ginormous sunglasses that screamed “I’m famous so look at me”, sauntered into the coffee shop. Regardless, you would remember the place—not too many choice shops operated twenty four hours, after all.

For all intents and purposes spacing out, you regarded the large intersection of 43rd and Anpan. Desolate, empty, serene. Yet, only a few feet further, you saw the remnant debris of the carnage from sometime earlier that day or late the day prior—a monster attack, for what else could it be in this day and age? By now, most of it appeared clear, or rather, by comparison to last you glimpsed it. This time, you did not turn your gaze.

When did monsters and heroes become so commonplace?

People died yesterday.

As you tried to find another distraction, you spotted a tall building in which a large segment had newer paint and construction—people surely died when that structure became so compromised. If a Demon or Dragon Disaster happened, did the populace even have a chance to evacuate?

You wondered how many parents said they would be right back and never say “I’m home.”

“D—” Thankfully, Sweet Mask opened the backseat passenger’s door, effectively killing the words from your mouth. Damn your word-sputtering.

The interior smelled of wonderfully brewed coffee, and, judging by the small size of the container and bold aroma, likely legitimate espresso. The temptation to garner your own beverage of the roasted bean variety proved strong, almost too strong, but you were working. To give in would be disrespectful to your client. And he still made no attempt to use a seat belt.

“Have I done something to offend you, or do you always glare, miss driver?” Shit. He caught you—fix it, now. Deflect the question.

“N-no. Not really. But you haven’t put on your seat belt. That’s illegal.” Change the subject! “Why do you wear your sunglasses at night? Doesn’t that draw more attention?”

You kept prattling, barely even breathing. You needed to change the goddamn topic! “You must work mad late, right? Are you a hand model? I hope you are because—I mean—I’m super happy you’re not a clown. They just aren’t funny, you know? Not to say that you aren’t funny. Are you?”

Sweet Mask took a long sip of espresso, and you just had to add, “I know I’m an awkward fish… Please don’t sue me.”

And then he choked, spitting the drink in an undignified manner.

“Or die. I’m sorry. I’ll shut up now. Are you okay?”

+_____+_____+

Several days after, mercifully, not losing your job, you stopped by the local Wells Embargo branch in A-City. You expected the venture to be relatively quick, for a bank anyway. But. Well. Bank robbers.

And they sucked at it.

Sporting tacky leather jackets, with no weapons drawn or otherwise, the group of three ordered everyone against the walls, kneeling. Everyone complied, including yourself, but you simply wondered how they spoke with green grasshopper faces.

After almost fifteen minutes of the would-be-crooks unsuccessfully attempting to open an oversized safe, you stood up, calmly walking to the exit. Hell, you were several feet away before the grasshopper-man realized and grabbed your arm in a weak-sauce grip. Why did everyone listen to them? They had no weapons. Not to say of the biggest mistake they made—

“Where are you going, girl?”

“How do you talk, Mr. Grasshopper Face. I mean, I’m going to work.”

He growled, or more accurately, chirped. “Don’t disrespect us Kamen Raiders! And we are cricket men. Do I need to hurt you, little girl?”

“With what,” you deadpanned. Nope, he still failed to grasp the situation.

“Our Kamen Bikes,” he stated though it sounded much more like an unsure question. Even his grip loosened, indicating his doubt.

“Okay, Mr. Kamen Raider. Look over there, please.” You pointed at different segments of ceiling sporting black half spheres. “CCTVS. Outside, with your bikes that you threatened me with, are more CCTVS at every corner. And the Hero Asso—”

“—They won’t make it!” He yelled, rudely interrupting you.

“...They don’t have to make it.” You shrugged at him. His antennae drooped. Confused? You continued, “It’s not very smart to rob a bank when the police station is literally across the street. Look, the good policemen even got your bikes.”

+_____+_____+

After the police escorted the Kamen Raiders to their new home less than fifty feet away in pretty silver bracelets, you went up to the somewhat shaken teller. “Hi. I need to make a withdraw from my savings account.”

The frazzled lady tried to hold a pen, but her grip proved much too shaky. “Oh, if only Sweet Mask saved us…”

Snapping a finger in front of her face, she jolted, and finally looked at you. “Can I get my money, please? I gotta get back to work soon.”

+_____+_____+

Knowing full well that you would be certifiably late picking him up, you pulled over, hazard lights flashing ominously.

Then you screamed at the top of your lungs, not giving a hot damn if people heard through the windows or not.

Sweet Mask. Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask. He was a hero. Good thing that, 'cause heroes don't murder people. Right?

You were so screwed. “Fuck.”

#fanfiction #reader insert #one punch man #dark humor #comedy #romance #slowburn romance #reader x amai mask #reader x sweet mask #reader x zombieman

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