#in their defense Several of these characters are doing crime as a means of standing up against corrupt and coercive systems

[maramahan]

I’m planning on trying out Art Fight this year, but in gathering my characters I’ve been forced to confront the fact that literally all of the folks I’ve been drawing lately are some flavor of remorseless criminal

In a lineup of 6, we have

one graverobber

two habitual arsonists

three theives

four gangsters

two-and-a-half cannibals

three murderers

one invasive species

….and only two of these people actually bother with gender

#just me rambling #and that’s not even counting the rest of my assorted scoundrels #because the 6 listed here are only the ones I’ve Drawn Recently and have enough decent art for #be gay do crime i guess #in their defense Several of these characters are doing crime as a means of standing up against corrupt and coercive systems #and most of the rest are just doing what they can to survive— #but still #I Definitely have a type here lol

[sayruq]

So, I just finished watching episode 10 of HoTD and I swear I was so bored for like 55 minutes of the whole ride, the only moment I was actually paying attention was when Aemond was on screen and the only emotion I had was me cackling at Aemond's tectonic "OH SHIT" face when Grandma Vhagar did her war crime.

I cannot believe that this is meant to be a challenger to the brilliance that is RoP, which had me at the edge of my seat from start to finish at every episode. Like, miss me with this failed Targ shit, the writers are so clearly not getting it.

Rings of Power writers care so much about their characters and they committ to the story they're telling, nothing is half assed. They want us to be attached to the characters and they work hard to make sure that we do and that hard work paid off. Look at how well received their finale is compared to this one. Ep 6 brought several characters together and not only did it feel like a big deal, the episode itself was tense, heartbreaking, dark and filled with more morally grey characters than HOTD. Adar>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Daemon. RoP was not scared to have Galadriel promise genocide nor did it ignore what that says about her. HOTD won't even let Rhaenyra express murderous intent after she was usurped and her son killed. She just stares into the camera.

I read the leaks so I knew what was coming and that usually doesn't detract from my enjoyment of a show because I love spoilers but even I was counting down the minutes to Aemond. It felt like an ordinary filler episode. Things happen without urgency or tension and not once did I feel like I couldn't wait to see how other characters will react to the new plot developments except Aemond's scene (he really is the MVP of the show). It didn't feel like the beginning of a new catastrophic war.

This show doesn't understand how to pick it's scenes. Instead of a very long miscarriage and body preparation scene, we could have spent more time on Rhaenyra's anger at being usurped, her fear of what it means for her children and her grief at her father's death because she barely reacted to that. There should have been only one Black Council scene after her coronation where we get

Team Black talking about their allies and Team Green's allies and you know strategizing

Rhaenys and Corlys slowly changing their minds about Rhaenyra (the show given reason why they chose her is very stupid because even the Greens want peace but whatever) as they watch her handle herself

Daemon trying to wrest control from Rhaenyra. You can even have him start the Council without her to show his eagerness for war. Instead of him standing around the table talking about the island's defenses, we should see him attending to that, ignoring her while she's in pain

Rhaenyra resisting it because of the prophecy which she doesn't talks about just yet. We should see people constantly pushing her to declare war and attack King's Landing and Rhaenyra standing her ground

Plans are made to send Jace and Luke to act as messengers

Instead of war, Rhaenyra plans on gaining enough allies to back the Greens into a corner without a single person dying

Then Otto Hightower comes. Instead of the dumb dragon scene, show Rhaenyra struggling to walk there but being determined because she's now queen and this is her duty but also because of the prophecy. She listens to the terms offered, trades insults with Otto, Daemon is Daemon. The page is offered, Rhaenyra cries and she decides to give her answer the following day.

Daemon thinks her attachment to Alicent is problem but she tells him about the prophecy. He strangles her. Rhaenyra spends the night thinking about how unpopular her decision is, she doesn't want to waver despite all the pressure she's facing.

Luke dies and Rhaenyra finds out right before she tells Otto her terms for peace. Instead of Emma staring at the camera, we can have the iconic line

Tell my half brother that I will have my throne, or I will have his head,” she said, sending the envoys on their way.

Now we see how Rhaenyra has been transformed by her son's death and we don't have to spend the entire last episode spinning the wheel until Aemond enters the picture.

#dr-doomsduck #rings of power #anti hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #lotr

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Thanks for the Doritos!

Pairing: Klaine | Rating: T | Words: 1,410 | Tropes/Genres: BabBoy!Blaine, humor, friends to lovers, crime

Summary: Kurt and BadBoy!Blaine try to lift some chips from the local convenience store. Things don't go exactly as planned.

A/N: did i proofred this? no <3 i was anxious about my first day back at work and wrote this instead sorry not sorry Based on this this batshit tumblr post that gives me ALL the serotonin warnings for a non-canon character holding a gun and crime ig

Continue Reading Below or Read on AO3

“This is stupid. It’s not gonna work.”

“How would you know? We haven’t even tried it.”

“I feel like there’s a better way to satiate your case of the munchies than shoplifting from a Seven-Eleven.”

“The clerk gets paid the same whether or not the bastard CEOs of the company lose a couple of bucks. Unless you’ve magically conjured up a wad of cash?”

“You know I haven’t.” Kurt almost growls. Blaine doesn’t mean it that way, but they’ve had enough conversations about Burt’s medical bills that he should know tight money is a sensitive topic for Kurt. The defensive fire in his belly dies down a little when Blaine reaches out to squeeze his hand—his free one holding his trusty skateboard—reminding Kurt he’s not alone in his suffering.

Until meeting Blaine, Kurt would spend his afternoons at home, with nothing except reruns of Golden Girls to keep him company while he prepared his dad’s dinner.

And then one cold October afternoon, while Kurt was hiding from Karofsky and Azimio under the bleacher, he nearly tripped over a mass of black clothing. The bundle of black subsequently sat up, revealing a head of unkempt curls and a disgruntled snarl that softened into a smirk upon seeing Kurt’s face.

He offered Kurt a cigarette, his hand, and his name.

Ever since then, Blaine has shown Kurt in numerous ways that you don’t need to do anything to have a good time. All you need is a roof, the night, and two people who, for some reason neither can quite explain, care about each other.

“Don’t act so high and mighty, Hummel. We both know you’re no stranger to theft.”

“I’ve never stolen a thing in my life!”

Blaine looks over and makes a dramatic pouty face, complete with pleading puppy-dog eyes that make Kurt’s knees too weak for his liking. “Tell that to my weeping heart. I’m still picking up the pieces from you refusing my several offers of marriage.”

Kurt’s face burns red and he huffs, yanking his hand away. Blaine always does this. Ruins the moment with some dramatic, over-the-top fake flirting, as if he doesn’t know what he looks like—as if he doesn’t know Kurt’s head over heels for one of McKinley High’s most notorious bad boys. For God’s sake, he’s about to commit a misdemeanor just to get him a couple of bugles. Of course he’s in love with Blaine.

“Shut up before I change my mind.”

“As you wish.”

Kurt walks in first, gives a friendly smile and half-wave to the cashier before heading to the chip aisle. He loiters there for a minute or two before Blaine walks in, heading straight to the counter where he’ll pretend to be looking for a specific cigarette brand he can’t remember the name of.

The second the clerk has his back turned, Kurt ducks to the ground and rips open his backpack, quickly and quietly throwing an assortment of chips in, only pausing when he grabs a bag of Doritos. A smile cracks his face; they’re Blaine’s favorite.

He’s so preoccupied with putting extra ones in there, that he doesn’t even hear the ding from the bell of the front door.

The way Blaine will tell the story to Kurt later that night—and to others for years to come—he’ll say that the first thing he saw was the barrel of a shotgun sticking up above the stand of newspapers by the entrance, and that’s all it took for him to rush to Kurt’s side.

Kurt’s zipping up the backpack when there’s a familiar hand on his shoulder, and Blaine’s panicked face in front of his.

“Guy with a gun just walked in,” he exhales in a terrified breath.

Kurt’s eyes go wide as dinner plates, and although the shouting he can hear coming from the front of the store confirms it, he still can’t believe it. “There’s—what!?” he whisper-shouts. Almost instinctively, he tries to stand up to look over the aisle, but Blaine drags him back down.

“Get down!”

“Oh fuck,” Kurt cries, adrenaline spiking when he hears the robber’s angry shouts of curse words and demands of money. “We have to do something.”

Blaine nods, and his immediate agreement makes Kurt fall that much more in love with this idiot. “He can’t see us here. I’ll stay here, you go to the next aisle over. I’ll create a distraction, and I need you to—god, Kurt, if anything happens to you,” he places a tan hand in Kurt’s pale face, and the warmth makes Kurt gasp, “I need you to leave okay? Don’t you dare wait for me. Call the cops when you’re out.”

“But I—”

“Call the cops.”

There’s no time to argue, so Kurt just nods and hurriedly crouches his way to the right, until he’s in the aisle out of the robber’s eye line, but can still see him.

A second later, he hears Blaine’s skateboard collide with the metal of the counter and figures that’s his cue to run.

Now’s his chance to run straight out of the convenience store, like Blaine told him to. Like he most certainly should… but the robber’s turning towards the chip aisle, where Blaine is. The robber is turning to the chip aisle where Blaine is and has a fucking gun, and after months of overthinking this thing he has with Blaine—a friendship, but also implicitly more—Kurt doesn’t think at all.

With the robber’s back to him, Kurt breaks out into a sprint and tackles the lanky man to the floor.

Kick knacks, candies, and various other impulse buy items go flying as Kurt messily pins the disoriented thief to the floor in front of a large metal stand full of cookies.

Blaine comes from the other side, seemingly out of nowhere and frozen momentarily in shock. Through magic, some sort of telepathic bond, or sheer luck, he manages to read Kurt’s mind and as soon as Kurt scrambles off the man, heaves the metal stand on top of the assailant.

They share a wide-eyed look of panic, an unspoken agreement, before bolting out.

Blaine hops over the groaning robber to the previous aisle, to pick up his skateboard. Meanwhile, Kurt’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he locates the rifle, still alarmingly close to the robber’s hand.

It won’t even register until about an hour later that holy fucking shit he was holding a loaded gun, but for now he grabs it and runs towards the door, shoving it into the clerk’s hands before lining up with Blaine, skateboard and backpack in hand.

The clerk looks at them with equal parts shock and gratitude, before turning the rifle on the robber to ensure he doesn’t try to escape.

As the two boys race out the door, Kurt tosses out a “Thanks for the Doritos!” to the clerk.

They don’t stop running for a solid minute, but when they do Kurt’s hamstrings are burning and his lungs are on fire, throat sore from breathing in the cold air too quickly.

Hands on his knees and still panting, he looks at Blaine. “Oh, my god.”

Blaine looks up at him from a similar position, breaking out into a wide, beaming grin that morphs into a fit of laughter. “We just did that.”

“That was reckless,” Kurt says, astonished for a moment before joining Blaine in his laughter.

Laughter slowly dying down into chuckles, Blaine stands up straight and cups Kurt’s cheeks in his palms.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly, hints of laughter still lighting up his voice.

Before Kurt can throw his eyes back into his skull—because Blaine always says he loves Kurt, as a friend, of course—Blaine’s lips are on his, warm and solid against the cool autumn air and taking what little breath Kurt has away.

He’s a little more than speechless when they finally break apart. Blaine isn’t.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

“I… w-wait, so… this whole time… you weren’t fake flirting with me?”

“I mean, I might’ve been a little too playful with it, but I was hoping eventually you’d take the hint.”

“I… don’t do well with hints.”

“Alright, no more hints. In that case, can I just kiss you again?”

Kurt barely restrains a hiccuped little laugh. “You, Blaine Anderson, can kiss me anytime you’d like.”

And from that day on, he does.

#klaine #glee #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #wow look at me im writing!

[revivivivify]

Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and Viewpoints

I’m putting this under a read more because it’s rather long, but I wrote this analysis on how people experience this novel in vastly different ways based on several related factors. Inspired by a conversation I had with my best friend who has also read the book.

I’ll start with my central point—the character someone relates to will color their understanding of certain events, even if they don’t realize it at first. This character is usually either Victor or the creature, though it may be another (like Henry) instead in some cases. Whose point of view one sympathizes with is likely influenced by their personal background, as it commonly does in all forms of media.

I’ve identified with Victor since the beginning of the book, and I’ve realized that my tendency to sympathize with Victor’s viewpoint most likely influenced the events that most made an impression on me- William and Justine’s tragedy and Henry’s murder.

I’ll admit that I view him a lot more favorably than many. I believe he was never a “mad scientist,” he was simply a brilliant man that was very misguided and dealt poorly with his own fear and the consequences of his actions. He was unfortunately of a rather fragile disposition, which proved to be a fatal hindrance. He had the means and the ability to do what he did- but he did not have the necessary qualities to deal with the situation well. He was not in any way equipped to withstand the stress placed on him. He was short-sighted and made bad decisions, yes; but I believe he’s still a good man at his heart.

When he first saw the creature, he regretted its creation immediately and was certain that it was an abomination that was not meant to exist, a demon to which he had given life. It didn’t occur to him in his fear and panic that his creation might simply be an ordinary living being rather than what its grisly appearance suggested. And in that moment he only had one defense mechanism- run. Later, he acted as a cornered animal, and remained so caught up in his own certainties and swamped with the loss of William and Justine that he was blind to the unadulterated truth for the entirety of the story.

Many others disagree. They’re eager to condemn Victor because of his irresponsibility and abandonment of the living thing he brought into being. It’s true that the creature’s misery is largely inflicted by Victor, and in turn the creature takes out his anger on those Victor loves. (From here, the creature will be referred to by name.)

Adam is arguably only reacting reasonably to the treatment he’s received, and many see things from that standpoint. It’s an entirely fair side to take, and even I, still reeling from William’s murder and Justine’s unjust execution, was moved by Adam’s tale of his misery and forlorn isolation from any kind of love. It’s true that I felt sorry Adam, very much so.

I can absolutely understand Adam’s fury as well as his suffering. To live a life as one who is abhorred and condemned having committed no crime is a horror beyond imagining, and his hope of perhaps gaining the love of anyone being brutally snuffed out over and over shows how cruel humanity can truly be. Adam has seen nothing of the kindness and beauty people are capable of, only their fear and cruelty. He is, in truth, only a reflection of his environment and how he’s been treated. His care and goodness have been trampled like a young flower, and who is anyone to blame him for being angry, wrathful even?

I certainly don’t fully agree with Victor’s decisions throughout the book, especially regarding Adam’s companion, but I can understand his line of thought and why he made those decisions. I feel that a lot of pain could have been avoided by making small changes in how he reacted to certain circumstances, but I digress.

The great beauty of media, literature in particular, is that everyone experiences it differently due to their specific circumstances and personality. And Frankenstein stands out to me as a story that truly made me feel things deeply and in a way I’ll never forget. I’ve greatly enjoyed conferring with those that have different views of the novel, and it’s given me much insight to the nature of how we as humans process the complex morals stories such as this one present us with.

#continuation of my frankenstein spam #the thing about your viewpoint being directly influenced by who you relate to is probably inherent #but I thought I should probably put it in anyway #please do not come at me in the tags or askbox or whatever people are using these days for seeing Victor’s point of view #literally Do Not I’m so tired #mmm I enjoyed writing this but I feel like I forgot to address one of the things I’d been thinking of? oh well it’ll come to me #frankenstein #mary shelley’s frankenstein #frankenstein the modern prometheus #frankenstein or the modern prometheus #classic literature #classic lit #classical literature #gothic literature #gothic lit #victor frankenstein #adam frankenstein #frankenstein’s creature #frankenstein’s monster

[kaistarus]

Haikyuu Among Us

Pairs: Nishinoya X Reader

Words: 2.8K

Summary: You're playing Among Us with the Karasuno gang. When you get selected to be the Imposter you're not above doing what it takes to win.

Notes: This is a completely self-indulgent fic for Nishinoya's b-day

Masterlist

"There are too many options. What do you think?”

Nishinoya’s yellow character stood motionless beside the lobby’s computer as he selected between several hats. Your animated crewmate ran circles around him while waiting for him to finish his customizations and for the rest of your friends to load into the game.

“I think the post-it is the most accurate, but the egg is the cutest.” You said mindlessly, smiling when Hinata’s bright orange character hopped off one of the benches at the top of the screen. You left Nishinoya so you could chase around Hinata instead, running circles around each other in excitement over your matching stemmed helmets.

Nishinoya grumbled as he selected the raw-egg to cover his helmet. “Should I buy a child?”

“Are you ready for that?” You asked as more people finally started loading onto the ship. “It’s a lot of responsibility and what if we both die?”

“Oh, you’re right. I’m not ready to be a single father.” Nishinoya left the computer and came to run in the circle with you and Hinata in the center of the lobby.

“You guys are disgusting,” Tsukishima’s condescending voice filtered into your headset. You rolled your eyes and glared at his black spacesuit with the devil horns. So rude.

“Let people be happy, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said while his dark green character joined your dance circle. You couldn’t explain it, but the wet floor sign felt extremely fitting for his character.

“I’ll help you raise your child if (Y/N) dies Noya!” Hinata said brightly into your headset.

“Thanks, Shoyo!”

“No, I want to help him raise the child!” Tanaka yelled into the mic causing you to jump in your chair. You quickly opened your audio settings to turn his volume down. “I deserve it. I’ve known them the longest.”

“No way, I already called dibs!”

“Guys, you can both help me! The more parents the better!”

“There is no child.” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose,” and stop planning for me to die.”

“Sorry.” They all said in unison.

“But one day…” Hinata added ominously. You blinked at the screen confused and opened your mouth to respond before deciding it better to write that off entirely.

“All right, I’m starting the game,” Yachi said before the countdown appeared at the bottom of the screen.

“Wait, is Kageyama AFK? He hasn’t said anything.” Hinata asked, concerned.

“I just don’t want to talk to you, idiot.”

“Ouch.” Nishinoya snorted.

You muted your mic after a small giggle. The red crewmate appeared to shush everyone and you couldn’t help the wicked grin that crossed your face when ‘Imposter’ appeared in red letters afterward. Beside your character stood your partner in crime, Hinata, his name also bled red for the violence to ensue. You nodded to yourself confidently. Hinata wasn’t the best imposter, but you two were pretty in sync so you weren’t too concerned.

The airship loaded and everyone appeared around the center lunch table in cafeteria. You debated what you should do… maybe hang out with Hinata and attempt a double kill? You two could pull that off. Maybe just try some fun vent kills like you’d seen streamers do recently. Too bad Nishinoya ran over to you and began dancing beside you, clearly trying to get you to follow him to the right side of the map. It would probably be cruel if you slowly garnered his trust to use him as an alibi…

You followed him out of cafeteria. He began a wire task so you pretended to watch the bar go up until he excitedly danced beside you when he was finished, happy he’d cleared himself as an innocent crewmate-not that you hadn’t known that already. You went to fake asteroids, standing beside the chair while hoping to all that was good the green bar would move on time, when it did you leaned your forehead on your desk with a heavy sigh. Nishinoya’s character ran circles around you, likely thrilled that you were both crewmates, before continuing down the gray halls to the oxygen room. You took a moment to feel guilty before shaking it off.

While Nishinoya went to do another task in O2 you noticed Tsukishima running down the hall, alone, so you briefly separated and went to follow him. Unfortunately, Tsukishima decided to go to navigation all alone which left you with absolutely no choice. You strolled up to him and pressed the lit up ‘KILL’ button in the bottom corner of your screen. The animation had you snapping his character in half which you were a little too satisfied with-you could practically hear him raging from across town.

Once complete, his little half body flopped over and you snickered to yourself in your room. Then you remembered Nishinoya probably heading this way and you quickly self-reported the body.

“Naviga--.”

“Somebody killed Tsukki!?” Yamaguchi yelled so loud you had to lift your headphones up.

“Oh no,” Kageyama said, sarcastically. “What a loss.”

“You don’t sound upset…” Yachi pointed out.

“Should I?”

“Yes! He’s our friend and he’s dead!” Yamaguchi yelled.

“He’s not actually dead Yams.” You smirked, propping your elbow onto your desk and leaning into the palm of your hand.

“Sometimes I still hear his voice…” Nishinoya sniffled into his mic and you rolled your eyes fondly.

“Where was it?” Hinata asked.

“Navigation.” You said calmly. “Me and Nishinoya were doing tasks. I saw him go down to nav and I wanted to see if he died in the murder zone and he did.”

“Makes sense,” Nishinoya said casually. “So, who else is there that killed him?”

“Makes sense? She literally said she followed him to the murder zone.” Tanaka pointed out. You purse your lips because you did kind of say that, yeah. You should probably phrase things better.

“I saw her do asteroids though and she saw me do other tasks so we’re good.” Nishinoya scoffed at Tanaka’s accusation. “She couldn’t possibly have murdered Tsukishima if she did asteroids.”

“Okay… but what if she faked it?” Tanaka suggested.

“Are you suggesting my girlfriend would lie to me?” Noya said, gasping dramatically. “How could you dude?”

“The absolute disrespect.” You said, narrowing your eyes at Tanaka’s brown character. He knew too much.

“What if they’re both the imposter?” Yachi suggested.

“No way. If Noya was imposter half of us would be dead already.” Hinata said, with a chorus of agreeance following him.

“Well, who else is around here?” You asked.

“I’m almost there,” Kageyama said.

“Almost there or running from the crime?” You asked, excited to bring someone new into suspicion.

“Dun dun dun,” Hinata shouted.

“I don’t know if this means anything, but Hinata was at card swipe for a really long time…” Yachi added quietly.

“I just failed it like ten times, okay?” Hinata said sadly.

“Yeah, that checks out.” Kageyama snorted. “This idiot would fail a card swipe.”

“Let’s just skip, but Kageyama and (Y/N) I’m watching you,” Tanaka said.

“Good,” Kageyama responded.

The round ended with no one being ejected, thankfully, but you were a little concerned about the amount of suspicion being thrown at you. Hopefully, Hinata would keep Kageyama alive, and if the opportunity presents itself Tanaka would be your next target. Until then, you ran around the table to Nishinoya and danced beside him until he was ready to move. It was most important that Nishinoya believed you were innocent. You needed a strong ally, especially now.

As you waited patiently for him to complete another download task you kept the sabotage map open contemplatively before Hinata decided to shut off the lights for you. You tried to stay close enough to Nishinoya that he would see you in his limited visual area while you run to electrical, that is, until you saw Yamaguchi trailing behind you. Once you all entered cafeteria you pulled a quick u-turn under the cover of darkness and stabbed Yamaguchi’s poor unsuspecting crewmate body several times in the back before returning to Nishinoya and helping fix the lights. As if nothing had ever happened.

After fixing lights like the innocent, fake crewmate you were an air horn went off in your ear to signal Yamaguchi’s body being reported. You fell back in your chair with a whine before unmuting your mic.

“All right, this is good,” Tanaka said, a few muffled smacks heard as he excitedly smacked his desk.

“Disrespectful, dude. What did Yams or Yachi ever do to you?” Nishinoya asked. You raised an eyebrow because you hadn’t even noticed Yachi’s crossed off character. “They’re the two nicest people on earth.”

“Yeah, that’s sus.” You said with a smirk.

“Super sus.” Nishinoya agreed.

“What? No. I mean, I was on my way to the button because I literally watched Hinata jump into a vent when I found Yam’s body. Which means we have two pieces of evidence now.”

You cursed internally and glared at Hinata’s bright orange character. He would get caught venting.

“Dude, seriously?” Nishinoya laughed.

“What? I didn’t vent.”

“I watched you.”

“Oh yeah? How can I vent when I’m not even the imposter?” Hinata said confidently. You rolled your eyes.

“Damn, he’s got you there dude.” Nishinoya snorted. “Solid defense Shoyo.”

“Thanks, man!”

“Don’t defend him!” Tanaka yelled. “Unless you really are the second imposter!”

“What? No! Where’s your evidence? Give me proof!”

“Yeah, give him the proof!” Hinata added.

“Where were you when Yamaguchi was killed?”

“How the fuck would I know?” Nishinoya asked, astonished. “We were only in cafeteria when the lights were off and I didn’t see a body.”

“We?” Tanaka sounded deep in thought. “When the lights were off…”

“Are we just forgetting about mister thank god Tsukishima is dead?” You said, pulling attention toward Kageyama. “And last I checked only Noya and I fixed the lights.”

“Oh yeah, where were you, Kageyama?” Nishinoya asked.

“I’m where the boxes are.”

“You gotta learn the room names, man.” Hinata sighed.

“Maybe this is a tactic!” Tanaka shouted.

“Oh, and self-reporting isn’t Tanaka?” You asked.

“I don’t know. Tell me about the last round?” He responded confidently. Oh shit.

“Hang on, we gotta vote. We have like 15 seconds.” Nishinoya pointed out.

“Vote Hinata. He vented.” Tanaka said, repeatedly.

Everyone voted quickly and Nishinoya even apologized to Hinata, so you sighed before going with the majority. You had officially lost your partner. On the bright side, if you could take out Tanaka you could probably convince Nishinoya that Kageyama was the last imposter. You just had to play this last bit safe.

You waited a bit before going in the direction Tanaka had run after, but your last few rounds backfired when Nishinoya trailed after you. You needed to get away from him long enough so you could kill Tanaka without him seeing. You broke away from him for a moment and hopped into the nearest vent, jumping around until you found an area close to where you thought Tanaka had last been running around. When you popped out fear immediately shot into your heart when Kageyama’s dark blue character peaked into the top of the screen.

You weren't sure if he saw you or not, but you couldn’t risk it. He had to die.

You chased after him toward cafeteria and just barely got close enough to hit the kill button when he entered the room. You let out a breath of relief when the kill animation popped onto your screen and you watched your character repeatedly stab Kageyama in the back. You thought you were safe, so when the air horn for a meeting played you shot up in your chair. Apparently, in your tunnel vision, you hadn’t noticed Tanaka lurking nearby.

“It was Tanaka. I watched him kill Kageyama!” You shouted the moment your mic unmuted.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Nishinoya’s voice was filled with genuine confusion and you almost felt guilty. Almost. Maybe after you won.

“No. She chased him down, sawed him in half, then tossed him away like it was nothing. I saw it all.” Tanaka shouted.

“You can’t even saw people.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m so confused,” Nishinoya whined. “It’s not Kageyama? But (Y/N) was with me like the entire game.”

“Exactly, so how could I have killed anyone?” You said excitedly. Nishinoya had no suspicion of you which was perfect. You could definitely win this.

“You were at every place where the bodies were found.” Tanaka pointed out. “She couldn’t have been with you the entire time. Like when she self-reported the first body?”

“I didn’t self-report.”

“Or when the lights went out?”

“I guess not.” Nishinoya said. You hit your desk lightly in stress. “She also wasn’t with me this whole last round...”

“Exactly!” Tanaka shouted. “And she was really adamant about putting suspicion on Kageyama.”

“Cause he was suspicious!” You threw your hands up. Since when was Tanaka so good at this game?

The line was quiet for a moment. “(Y/N) he’s making a lot of sense.”

“Okay, but he also reported Yams' body,” you countered. “Easily could’ve been a self-report there too.”

“That’s true…”

“Dude, why would I have tried so hard to get Hinata out if I was an imposter?” Tanaka asked, exasperated. “It makes no sense. It has to be her.”

“He could’ve lied about seeing Hinata vent!” You shouted, deciding to throw hail mary’s in your moment of demise.

“Why would I do that?”

“My head hurts,” Nishinoya whined. “(Y/N) I don’t know...”

“Okay. You should vote for Tanaka because...” You said while racking your brain for a solid defense. “I… love you.”

Nishinoya blew air into the mic. “Fuck dude, that’s a good defense.”

“No it’s not you--” Tanaka groaned. “Dude, for like five seconds I need you to stop being a simp and just big brain with me here.”

“But she’s saying nice things to me,” Nishinoya whined.

“Dude, c’mon you know who it is.”

Nishinoya groaned into the mic. “Okay, (Y/N) you’d never lie to me, right?”

“Never.”

“Are you imposter?”

“...I love you so much and I’m so happy you’re in my life and--”

“She just fucking admitted to it!” Tanaka screamed in the mic. “Don’t let her get into your brain. You’re better than this.”

After a brief silence, Nishinoya finally voted and you stood out of your chair when it revealed Nishinoya and you beneath Tanaka’s brown character. The mixed shouting in your headset went completely ignored by your own excitement while you celebrated, thanking Nishinoya with loving words.

“You fucking simp!” Tanaka yelled. “I can’t believe you. I trusted you!”

“I’m sorry,” Nishinoya’s groan came muffled in your ears. “I just couldn’t do it.”

“Good job (Y/N)!” Hinata cheered. “I never win as an imposter.”

“Cause you vent in front of people,” Tsukishima said.

“It was an accident! I meant to sabotage doors and I misclicked.”

“Oh well, we still got a victory.” You said proudly while spinning in your chair.

“You used me,” Nishinoya said, disappointed. “For personal gain.”

“I’m sorry, Noya,” you smirked as your characters all slowly hopped off the chairs in the main lobby. You danced around his yellow character as everyone loaded in. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When the second game began, you let out a sigh of relief when the light blue confirmed you as merely a crewmate. This time you could legitimately just goof off with Nishinoya and complete tasks together while hopefully avoiding death.

After the map loaded you once again made your way to navigation together, keeping guard while the other was busy, and dancing circles every time you completed a task. When you eventually had entered the murder zone you trusted him to watch your back while you did your last task on the right side of the ship. Your first mistake apparently. You audibly gasped when the kill animation appeared on the screen. Nishinoya’s yellow character snapping your poor little crewmate’s neck in plain sight, leaving its little half body lying there for all to see. It’s poor singular bone popped out and bare.

You stared blankly at the screen while Nishinoya danced around your body for a moment, knowing that your ghost was hovering over it before he went down and hopped into the vent. You flopped back into your chair watching as Tanaka’s character ran into the room, stared at your body, and ran out. You could picture him cackling at the situation from here.

When a meeting was finally called, not even for you but Kageyama, Nishinoya pretended to be upset that “someone dares to kill you” and other bull shit. You crossed your arms and glared at his stupid yellow imposter self.

You supposed you deserved being used as a cover-up from the grave.

He better at least win.

#haikyū!! #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya x y/n #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yū #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio #yachi hitoka #tanaka ryuunosuke #yamaguchi tadashi #tsukishima kei #nishinoya yu x reader #nishinoya scenarios #nishinoya imagine

[renegadewangs]

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 9

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I’m outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I’ve missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I’m using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what’s said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn’t matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

How the turnabouts have turned! It's time for Twisted Karma and His Last Bow!

Episode 2-4: Twisted Karma and His Last Bow

With Van Zieks's tragic backstory (…) exposed, it's time to head on into waters we've charted before, waaay back in the very first Ace Attorney game: The Prosecutor becomes the Defendant. It all starts off with some shenanigans which appear to have very little to do with Van Zieks (the arrival of Mikotoba and Jigoku, the Red-headed League, a missing prison warder, etc.).. Ryu does still run into Van Zieks very briefly in Stronghart's office, with Susato noting that there appears to be an awful lot of tension in the air. I expect Van Zieks is questioning that decision to leave Genshin Asogi's son in his care, but even so, he's very civil towards Stronghart. Susato also notes that Van Zieks gives Ryu a cold stare as he leaves, with Ryu wondering what he's done to earn that. This may also be a result of him being besties with Kazuma, since Van Zieks had already buried the hatchet towards Ryu for the most part. When Ryu asks about the decision to leave Kazuma in Van Zieks's care, Stronghart explains it was to best keep an eye on this 'mysterious amnesiac with no identifying papers'. Well OK then. Stronghart also explains he made Kazuma wear a mask because he didn't want to “burden Van Zieks with tiresome explanations about why he had an Eastern appearance.” … I would assume the very simple explanation is that it's because he's of Eastern descent, Stronghart. Regardless, the Lord Chief Justice has high hopes for Kazuma's future and isn't at all bothered by the fact that the guy has gone missing for a little bit.

Things take a turn later when Gina Lestrade comes barging into 221B with some pretty shocking news. Inspector Gregson was murdered. Yes, THAT Inspector Gregson. The suspect has already been arrested:

It's true that to the average civilian like Gina, Van Zieks's name is pretty much synonymous to the Reaper (of the Old Bailey). Even so, to have her outright calling him by that title adds a sort of emotional distance that's really striking. Gina explains they caught him at the scene and there were several witnesses, but Ryu thinks to himself that there's no way Van Zieks would have taken Gregson's life. So naturally, we owe it to our good pal Gregson (who actually was just coming around and being nicer to Ryu) to find the truth. Time to go have a talk with Van Zieks in prison!

… Okay that's funny. Don't worry, Barok, one day we'll all look back on this and laugh. Anyway, Van Zieks says he's in the last place on earth he'd want to be, with the last person on earth he'd want to see. And this line can easily be misinterpreted as Van Zieks saying he hates Ryu more than anyone else in the world, but what he's actually saying is that Ryu is the last person he wishes would see him in this troublesome situation. Ryu says he couldn't very well not come, but Van Zieks tells him to go home since it has nothing to do with him. Susato interjects, pointing out that Gregson has helped them out on numerous occasions and so, they're indebted to him. She pleads for Van Zieks's help with the investigation and he's silent for a moment, only to say: “There's really nothing I can tell you.” Which I suppose means he doesn't think he has anything helpful to say. Ryu asks about what Van Zieks was reading when they came in and assumes it to be a case report. Van Zieks says the Yard wouldn't share case details with a suspect (keep that one in mind) and explains it's a letter from Albert. Dear Professor Harebrayne has arrived in Germany safely! Ryu notes that Van Zieks usually never minces his words, but they seem to have less bite than usual now. No wonder, really, since he's in prison for the murder of an old friend. Van Zieks asks how much they already know about the case, so the two of them go through the facts and Van Zieks says they're well-informed. He's got nothing to add, because... Well.

Oh, this is going to be another one of those cases, huh. Susato asks what Van Zieks was doing at the crime scene in the first place, but Van Zieks points out he doesn't need to answer that, as they aren't representing him. When asked who is representing him in court, he says it'd be anyone other than Ryu. That said, he doesn't actually have any representation because of his reputation as the Reaper. Sixteen people he's prosecuted have mysteriously died and now that he's actually been apprehended for a murder, that whole Reaper ordeal is sure to be thoroughly examined.

BOY, have we got news for you! When it's pointed out that Van Zieks didn't actually have anything to do with those mysterious deaths (right???), he replies that no one wants to know the true identity of that killer more than he does, but it seems things may come to a head before he can uncover the truth. Van Zieks basically tells Ryu to leave, but being the kind-hearted gentleman that he is, Ryu offers to advocate for him in court. Van Zieks asks whether Ryu trusts him, which is a pretty fair question to ask. He's built up so many racist scumbag points and has such a bad reputation in town, it would be weird for Ryu to trust him unconditionally. Luckily, Ryu has been paying attention just as much as I have; he's heard Van Zieks speak in court and seen the way he treats people (uhh, English citizens, anyway), so he doesn't believe this 'Reaper' has it in him to take a life. Unfortunately, Ryu also has to acknowledge that feelings can't be used as evidence in court. Van Zieks considers the offer gracious, but...

“Not the police, not the judiciary... And not you Nipponese.”

One more scumbag point for putting “you Nipponese” in its own category for no reason. Either way, this man has built up such high defensive walls, you could see them from three galaxies away. Trusting no one is a pretty drastic way of living. Ryu thinks to himself that there's a chasm between the two of them that's 'just too wide and too deep'.

As a sidenote, presenting the attorney armband doesn't lead to any interesting conversation this time, but we can also present the Red-headed League advertisement! Van Zieks surmises that if it were a Black-headed League, Ryu would join without delay, which Ryu then confirms. Van Zieks says that sadly, his hair is neither black nor red. He goes into a most curious identity crisis of sorts, where he looks quite anguished as he wonders which coloured league he should join instead. There have been several debates over his hair color, actually, from lavender to purple to grey. Regardless, Susato points out that “people are troubled by the most unexpected problems at times.” It is unexpected, since Van Zieks needs neither the money nor the company that he would get from joining any such league. It's just the principle of the matter, I suppose.

Over by the crime scene in Fresno Street, Gina gets a little razzled when she suspects Ryu is thinking of defending “that Reaper bloke”. Susato points out that if “Lord van Zieks” really is responsible for the crime, he'll be judged fairly in court. This gets Gina to calm down again, because she really wants to know the truth of what happened and much like Van Zieks, she must know that getting the truth is what Ryu does best. A bit of conversation later, Gina points out one more interesting thing; Gregson apparently held a lot of respect for 'the Reaper'. “I take my hat off to that fella,” were his exact words, apparently. Ryu is skeptical, as am I, because I've seen the way Gregson talks about Van Zieks behind his back.

Gina explains that's exactly why he respected Van Zieks. That's... a little weird and ambiguous. So either he respected Van Zieks's ability to stand tall despite all the public scorn, or he respected the fear he struck into people's hearts. There's one more option; Gina keeps talking about the Reaper instead of Van Zieks, so it's possible that Gregson was talking about the actual Reaper. This seems unlikely, though, since he didn't seem to enjoy being part of the Reaper organization.

And now that we know Van Zieks is the defendant, one might be wondering: Who is the prosecutor? Who is the antagonistic force who will try to stop Ryu from uncovering the truth? Well, we find him over in Stronghart's office. Apparently he took an express train back to London from wherever it was he's been these past few days.

YOOOOUUUU!!! Though before we can address his presence properly, we need to discuss the new case. Stronghart wastes no time asking Ryu and Susato whether they've heard “the sickening news about the Reaper's latest devilry.” Which stands out, to say the least, since Stronghart has always been a strong supporter of Van Zieks up until this point. When Susato points out that surely he doesn't believe it, Stronghart says he believes only in facts, which all point to the unavoidable accusal of Lord van Zieks. Someone sure had a quick turnaround when it comes to his number one prosecutor, geez... Stronghart points out the irony that there's no salvation for anyone prosecuted by the Reaper of the Bailey, and now the Reaper himself must stand in the dock. Just as Van Zieks had already alluded to, Stronghart now claims the public will want answers about those mysterious deaths. Ryu and Susato both point out that which had been rubbed into our faces several times already; Van Zieks denies any involvement, and also there have been several investigations into whether he had anything to do with it. Stronghart kind of brushes this off, though. Turns out, Van Zieks is being traded in for a newer model number one prosecutor: Kazuma Asogi! Which seems weird at first glance, since Kazuma is a defense attorney, but Stronghart considers that a bonus:

“A devastation combination, wouldn't you agree?”

I do agree. Granted, it seems Van Zieks had already figured out the defense's strategies too, he just never actively used them to his own advantage. It also turns out that Kazuma personally requested the prosecutor position for this trial. Susato thinks it's pretty unprecedented to grant a newcomer exchange student such a request, but Stronghart offers some petty excuse about how this way, it won't look like the judiciary are closing ranks. Kazuma, who assumes his friend will take on the defense, says he'll see how Ryu's skills have been honed after practicing law in England for so many months. (Uhh. Actually, bestie, it was only about two months of being a defense attorney and six months of disbarment.) Ryu notes that Kazuma is being hostile towards him and wonders why. On a final note, when asking Stronghart about the gun found at the crime scene, we're told that it's issued to all members of law enforcement, including prosecutors. Van Zieks claims to have lost his. That's a troubling claim indeed, because it's difficult to prove or disprove. GOSH, if only fingerprints were allowed in court.

As Ryu and Susato turn to leave, Kazuma stops them. He once again states he wants Ryu to witness this trial as the defense counsel, to “see how it ends”. Since Kazuma has a very distinct vision for how he wants it to end, I guess this means he intends to confront Ryu with Van Zieks's guilt and have his bestie see that a man like him is unworthy of his trust. Either that, or he expects Ryu to use this trial to find the truth of what really happened with the Professor ten years ago, just as he used Albert's trial to dig into that incident. Still though, this reads as pretty scummy to me, because it means he wants Ryu to lose a trial and lose some of his belief in his clients. In the trial itself, it seems to me that Kazuma desperately believes Van Zieks to be a horrible person deserving of the guilty verdict. Therefore, he in no way can hold hope that Ryu will prove him wrong (unlike what went down in case 2-3 with Albert). Anyway, Ryu says that Van Zieks would never put his fate in his hands.

“... It's not easy to see behind the facade sometimes.”

Case 2-3 already told us this, but it's nice to have it confirmed by someone who was closer to Van Zieks. Because remember, Kazuma spent three months by Van Zieks's side (and even fighting by his side), so of course he would know more about his personality than we do. Kazuma hands over a photograph of Barok when he was younger and

GOOD LORD, HE CAN SMILE. Or he could when he was younger, anyway. Kazuma states the picture was displayed in Gregson's office. What he's 'trying to say' is that if Ryu really thinks he can trust “the Reaper” (distancing choice of words again), he might find that some straight talking will change his view. I got the impression we've been straight talking Van Zieks ever since we first met him, but okay. Let's take the picture and back to the gaol we go! Van Zieks is once again reading from some paper and Ryu points out that either he's an incredibly slow reader or it's an incredibly long letter, but either way, Ryu might even be able to read English faster than him. Naturally, this was said loud enough for Van Zieks to overhear.

Scumbag point for hypocrisy, but also a scumbag point for “Nipponese”. When Ryu asks whether it's still Albert's letter he's reading, Van Zieks says he had the case report brought to him in secret. So wait, the Yard does share case details with its suspect? Hilarious. Once again, Van Zieks insists the situation has nothing to do with Ryu, up until the prosecutor's name is revealed to him. And so, the masked cardboard cutout student has become the master! Ryu notes that all the color drained from Van Zieks's face, which is pretty impressive when there's barely any color there to begin with. Ryu has the opportunity now to thrust the photograph into his face, so let's do that. He's immediately alarmed, since he assumed it to be lost and would never have expected Gregson to have it. When Ryu says that Gregson had a deep respect for him, he dismisses that as nonsense, only to correct himself. “There was a time things were like that.”

Van Zieks thanks Ryu for that nice glimpse into the past, and Ryu thinks to himself that there was a glimmer in Van Zieks's eyes- a brief twinkle. He considers that “an insight into the true nature of this man known to all as the stone-cold Reaper of the Bailey”, with “the true nature” being highlighted as orange. So this right here is undeniable; this is what the narrative is illustrating to us now. The true nature of Barok van Zieks is that of someone who was hopeful and jovial; kind-hearted, as Albert knew him. What we see now, that harsh exterior full of harsh words, is not his nature at all.

Van Zieks is more willing to talk now. He once again speaks of Klint, rehashing the same story we've heard several times already. Van Zieks claims there's not a single day where he doesn't curse the name Asogi. He considers it a cruel twist of fate that the man's son intends to crucify him in 'some kangaroo court'. Clearly, he doesn't think highly of the upcoming trial if he refers to it as a kangaroo court, but that's likely because he knows he isn't the real killer. When Ryu points out that he still doesn't understand why Stronghart apprenticed Kazuma to Van Zieks, the explanation is that “it's what he does”. Van Zieks believes that Stronghart knew Kazuma's true identity from the outset, but still provides no real explanation as to why Stronghart 'did what he did' and even assigned Kazuma as the prosecutor this time. Van Zieks goes on to contemplate the name Asogi some more and calls it 'the epitome of his bane'.

I've talked before about how utterly flawed it is that Van Zieks attributes Genshin's crime to his race and/or cultural upbringing and proceeds to tar every single Japanese person with the same brush. There's no need to go into this again; we all know it's wrong. Turns out, even Van Zieks knows it's wrong, but we'll get back to that momentarily. First, Van Zieks needs to talk about Klint even more. (good lord...) He explains that Klint van Zieks was hunting down a mass murderer and “assigned to the investigation as his partner was a certain visiting student dispatched by the Yard.” This was Genshin, of course, and I believe this is the first time it's said that he too was looking into the Professor case. So Van Zieks already mentioned in the previous case that the Japanese students had left a deep impact on him, and also that he once toasted friendship with a Japanese person, but now we have this:

“But none of us saw the true nature of the man.”

True nature is once again in orange here, but this time as a red herring. Van Zieks believes that the Professor murders were Genshin's true nature, when it isn't quite true at all. Regardless, since Van Zieks was still in university at the time the exchange students were in the country, I don't think he would've had that much contact with Genshin. I expect he encountered the man on rare occasion while Klint associated most with him. Every meeting was enough to foster this respect and friendship, though, so it's clear that young Van Zieks was easily influenced and had a very open mind towards a foreign exchange student. But then, that's what makes the next portion of the story all the more damaging.

“My esteemed brother... The people I believed in... And any semblance of right prevailing over wrong!”

As Van Zieks also already alluded to in the previous case, he found himself in a very dark place. That isn't surprising. Every positive thing Van Zieks knew in his life, from his family to his closest friends, was ripped away from him in extremely close succession. What must've been the final nail in the coffin was Genshin outright admitting to his crimes. It erased all doubt that perhaps there was some sort of misunderstanding or a frame job. Going over everything Van Zieks has said so far, it seems he didn't just blame Genshin for the tremendous loss he suffered; he blamed himself. He must believe that his trust in Genshin blinded him to this supposed 'true nature', just as it must've also blinded Klint, and that the whole tragedy could've been prevented if only he'd been more cautious. So now, in present day, he no longer trusts anyone. He outright says so.

Van Zieks goes on to talk about how he was the one who prosecuted the Professor. Since he'd only just graduated, such a thing usually wouldn't be allowed, but he “beleaguered the ascribed prosecutor until he consented.” This person was Mael Stronghart, who back then was apparently still no more than a prosecutor. A highly accomplished one, but a prosecutor nonetheless. Since Klint was the Director of Prosecutions (or Chief Prosecutor???) at the time, that means he actually ranked above Stronghart. Interesting. Regardless, since Stronghart agreed to let Van Zieks lead the prosecution and instead only acted as an advisor, Van Zieks now feels indebted to him. That certainly explains why he's usually so good about following Stronghart's orders and not asking questions.

“And, of all things, as a lawyer.”

Ahhh, this is the part where Ryu enters the chronology. Our protagonist points out that he's felt Van Zieks's animosity since the first time he faced him in the courtroom; his obvious deep loathing of Japanese people. And here comes perhaps one of the most important, yet most overlooked lines Van Zieks will ever utter in these games:

“But for so many years, that hatred had festered inside me, I could no longer control it.”

So here, Van Zieks admits to two things. First of all, he admits that he was wrong to hold such deep loathing and by extension, to give that loathing a voice. He's a man of logic, after all. To cling to something which he refers to as illogical is about as wrong as one could get. Not only that, he admits that this was an unstoppable force he should have controlled, but was too weak to do so. The hatred overpowered him and did away with common sense. He behaved stupidly and irrationally because for ten years, hatred and negativity was all he knew. But what's even more striking here is Ryu's answer, which is also often overlooked:

Ryu, bless his heart, doesn't blame Van Zieks for succumbing to this weakness. Bear in mind, he's the victim here. Van Zieks wouldn't have encountered many other Japanese people in those ten years, if at all. This means the first person he lashed out against was Ryu. Naturally, Ryu can't speak for Susato or Soseki, who received their own verbal assaults and might have different opinions on the matter. Ryu is just one man, but in our narrative, he's the main protagonist and the main target of these outbursts. Is it misleading and perhaps even problematic in the grand scheme of things to have the protagonist sympathize with such motivation? Well, that depends on many different factors. There's no easy answer for this because it's a nuanced, cultural sort of thing. Personally, I was a bit bothered by it, but not to the point that it ruined the experience for me.

Van Zieks admits that just as the Japanese were the bane of his life, Kazuma Asogi must believe Van Zieks to be the bane of his. He is, after all, the Reaper who sent his father to the gallows. Van Zieks thinks that Kazuma intends to take revenge in court and... Really, this is true.

There's a quick bit of conversation about Gregson now. Turns out, the only reason the Professor was caught at all was because Gregson forced an autopsy on Klint despite it being considered the highest taboo at the time. Van Zieks says that as a result of Gregson's powerful conviction, he could avenge his brother's death. He looks quite torn, a bit pained. He must believe he owes Gregson something for this. The conversation then moves on to Van Zieks's revolver, which he claims to have misplaced an undetermined amount of time ago. “I must have stowed it somewhere, I suppose. Or left it somewhere, perhaps.” Van Zieks clearly doesn't think highly of firearms as a weapon, since he's constantly carrying a sword around instead. Susato points out that Ryu has a talent for misplacing things in common with Van Zieks, which leads to one more scumbag outburst.

… Dude. Come on. You just admitted it was illogical. You came so far! Scumbag point for you. Still, as the conversation rounds to a close, Van Zieks utters the words “Mister... Naruhodo”, much to Ryu's surprise. This is the first time he's actually said Ryu's name! Van Zieks once again reiterates that he's lost all confidence in England's judiciary system. He doesn't trust the police, the judiciary or lawyers. Even so, there's still one thing he's willing to believe in.

“That which you see in the eyes of another across the courtroom: a simple determination to know the truth. From the very first time we clashed in the Bailey almost a year ago now... I couldn't deny it, even though I dearly wished I could. 'Here is a loathsome Japanese... who has absolute integrity as a lawyer.' There are only two other men I've known with that same look in their eyes: my brother, Klint. … And Genshin Asogi.”

This is interesting. So at first when he saw that look in Ryu's eyes, he must've been reminded of Genshin. And again, this is why he directed such hatred towards Ryu; he saw someone who wasn't alive anymore. But now he recalls that Klint also had that same gaze, and so he wants to believe that Ryu is not similar to a deceitful murderer, he's instead similar to his beloved brother. (Boy is he going to have to reevaluate how he judges people when he finds out that his beloved brother was the deceitful murderer.) Van Zieks says that when he saw the photograph, he was reminded of a time when he could laugh, free of the shackles of mistrust which plague him now. This is very relevant since Van Zieks indeed can't laugh anymore. We never see him do it. He can't even smile.

“But at times the mire into which I've sunk makes it almost impossible to breathe.”

Someone please get this man to a professional therapist. If he means that in a more literal sense and he does occasionally feel like he can't breathe, that's telltale signs of panic attacks. It could just be, of course, that he's being overdramatic and the “impossible to breathe” bit is just fanciful wordplay to go with the mire analogy. Still though, considering he's also mentioned being in a dark place and that he's willing to die so long as it serves a useful purpose, and that he drinks his wine to stave off tedium... He's clearly depressed. But then, he seems to know it. He acknowledges that the way he is now is not the way things should be, and that he needs to fight to overcome it. And so:

“... In tomorrow's trial... Will you advocate for me?”

Boom. Swallowed his pride and turned to Ryu for help because he knows it's what's best for him. He no longer trusts anyone, but he's willing to trust Ryu because once he starts opening up again and has that trust repaid, then perhaps things can gradually go back to the way things were when he was younger. Mind, he still hasn't apologized for his actions, but that doesn't change that Ryu at least is willing to extend a hand to Van Zieks. It's a little sad that Susato doesn't properly form her own opinion on this and instead just goes along with whatever Ryu says. I would've liked to know just how she feels about Van Zieks's attitude and whether or not he deserves to be helped. She doesn't object to it, at least, and since Susato usually always speaks her mind, I can only assume she genuinely agrees with Ryu's sentiments.

The next day, in the defendant's lobby, it's remarked there's a 'menacing tension' in the air and Ryu surmises out loud it's the result of the menacing appearance of the defendant. Well-deserved, that remark. Touché. Van Zieks asks him for a little more courtesy in a polite enough manner, but considering the lack of courtesy he's shown Ryu over the past 8 months, that's hypocritical. He informs Ryu that this is a closed trial without a jury, which bums me out because it means no more Summation Examination. I would've liked to see Asogi react to that. (S)Holmes comes in and has the weirdest little banter with Van Zieks that I honestly can't... really decipher. There's several things about it that really strike me as being off:

- “And I you. I see London's celebrated great detective is as active as ever.”

- “Oh, you exaggerate, my dear fellow. Compared to my paltry engagements with a few trivial cases... The Reaper's overbearing presence is a far greater deterrent to the black roots of crime in our capital. And whilst I may not agree with your methods... There is at least one point on which I would readily commend you.”

- “What an honour. And that would be...?”

- “Your eye for a good lawyer, sir. […] Behind this lawyer there is a very great mind. My own.”

Alright, so... First of all, we know (S)Holmes is super arrogant and would never refer to his past cases as “trivial” in all sincerity. Plus, it's established that he's very weird with compliments, such as referring to Gregson as “the best of those blunderers of the Yard”, so complimenting Van Zieks directly on the effect he has on crime feels off. Aside from that, (S)Holmes addresses Van Zieks as the Reaper and continues to talk about 'his methods', when it's already been established (S)Holmes doesn't believe Van Zieks has anything to do with the Reaper killings. Taking all that into account, I can only really assume that the first half of this above conversation is (S)Holmes being weirdly passive aggressive towards Van Zieks, with Van Zieks being passive aggressive in turn. It really, truly feels as if there was some sort of backstory between these two that they had to scrap at the last second. Regardless, the exchange ends with (S)Holmes warning Van Zieks that this will be “quite a trial”.

Gina Lestrade shows up with Yujin Mikotoba (….. when did they meet???), saying they intend to watch the trial, and I am very impressed with how (S)Holmes manages to disappear from the scene and not say a word when his old partner arrives. Anyway, Gina looks Ryu square in the eye and asks him why he agreed to take Van Zieks on. Everyone's saying it was him who killed Gregson. Considering everyone was saying it was her who killed Pop Windibank six months ago, you'd think she might want to tone down her attitude, but she's clearly in mourning and lashing out. See? People who are hurting can say insensitive things. Ryu insists he doesn't believe it to be true, but Gina demands to know that if it wasn't him, then who?

“An' if it turns out it was 'im wot killed the boss... Then God 'elp 'im!”

It's interesting to remember that during The Unspeakable Story, Gina wasn't afraid of Van Zieks for his Reaper reputation. She didn't believe in the curse and didn't think she would end up like the other defendants. Now, she absolutely no longer gives a damn whether Van Zieks is the mysterious Reaper or not. She only thinks he might be a murderer who took away her mentor and that's what has her judge him so fiercely. Van Zieks remarks on her fiery eyes and tells her that the culprit does indeed deserve every inch of her loathing. “At least that may be some solace to the deceased.” So here, in a roundabout way, it rather looks as if Van Zieks is sympathizing with Gina's anger. At the very least, he's condoning it, just not towards himself.

Entering the courtroom, it becomes clear very fast just how serious this trial will become. Just as was alluded to before, the judge confirms that the 'Reaper of the Old Bailey' has been undermining Her Majesty's justice system and therefore, the people will demand answers on this matter. Ryu thinks to himself the trial will be a lot more far-reaching than just Gregson's murder. Sure enough, Kazuma is at the prosecutor's bench and ready to get that vengeance Van Zieks referred to in jail. Shockingly, the first witness he summons is actually Van Zieks himself. The judge is surprised, but Kazuma explains that as a prosecutor, Van Zieks believes in the oath of office he's taken; he'll be compelled to tell the truth. Because contrary to what happened in Memoirs of the Clouded Kokoro, Van Zieks is against perjury! (I WILL NEVER GET OVER WHAT HAPPENED WITH SHAMSPEARE!) Sure enough, he takes the stand and Kazuma says the court would like to hear him explain some things away.

He really is just brutally honest, isn't he? Both in his courtroom methods and in how he shows his emotions. He doesn't sugarcoat, he doesn't beat around the bush, he definitely doesn't lie... At most, he may withhold some information. Unfortunately, his testimony is mostly useless. The judge remarks that he didn't want to imagine this day would come, but ever since Van Zieks became known as the Reaper, he's been dreading it. The judge, our neutral ground, seems to be convinced that Van Zieks may have actually done the deed. That's not good. Kazuma acts all smug, saying that Van Zieks indeed hasn't explained anything away and that his testimony barely qualifies as an excuse. Van Zieks notes that his 'mute apprentice' has a way with words. Meanwhile, Ryu thinks to himself that Kazuma isn't behaving like himself, which is a sentiment they'll keep repeating throughout the case. … I gotta be honest here, I didn't notice all that much of a difference between this Kazuma and the one from the very first case of the game. I mean, come on, he sliced a man's hair off and cursed his descendants just for insulting Ryu. He's slightly more arrogant here, maybe, but since he was only the assistant there and is a leading counsel here, it makes sense for him to be more proactive and confident in his methods. Then again, I'm not a Kazuma expert; maybe there's something I'm missing.

In his testimony, Van Zieks revealed that he was investigating Gregson, but when pressed on it he won't admit the exact reason for it. He only says he'd identified a distinct possibility Gregson was involved in a case he was investigating. When asked how he even knew where Gregson would be, he openly admits to having stolen into his office and consulted his diary. (“Dear Diary, today I dropped my fish 'n chips on the way to Fresno Street-”) When told that illegally entering Gregson's office would warrant serious consequences, Van Zieks says he was aware of that risk.

The rest of the testimony is pressed without further hitches, though what did strike me as interesting is that at one point, Ryu suggests the gunshot might've originated from outside the room, but Van Zieks immediately says it's out of the question. He shoots the possibility down with evidence only he could have experienced (the bang sounded inside the room and he could smell gunpowder), and in doing so, only implicates himself further. Detrimentally honest, this one. Not only that, but he picked the gun up.

NO KIDDING that was carelessness. Is he related to Miles Edgeworth after all? Kazuma talks about how three street peddlers overheard the bang and burst through the door with some force. Van Zieks states they almost gave him a heart attack in the process (omg) and Ryu thinks to himself: “(But you're supposed to be the Reaper...)” C'mon Ryu, haven't you seen enough of this man by now to know he gets jarred easily?

When the testimony rounds to a close, things get interesting. Kazuma uses his defense attorney skills, as promised. He uses evidence from the Court Record to point out contradictions in Van Zieks's testimony, thereby 'proving he's lying'. Hey, what happened to Van Zieks believing in the oath of office and being compelled to tell the truth? Did Kazuma call Van Zieks to the stand just to expose him as a liar? He wins the judge over quite easily by illustrating these contradictions and casting doubt on Van Zieks's integrity. Tragic, because as Van Zieks says:

Van Zieks steps down from the stand and disappears for the remainder of the trial day. He doesn't even show up during intermission in the defendant's lobby. Characters do still talk about him, though!

I mean... He ain't lyin'. At one point, Kazuma utters the words “the defence is fated to lose. And the prosecution to win,” which once again confirms that Kazuma basically asked Ryu to take part in an 'unwinnable' trial. Which, y'know, is technically fine. Losing a trial isn't the end of the world, especially when the defendant (in Kazuma's eyes) is actually guilty. Still though, personally asking Ryu to take on Van Zieks just so he can watch the man be exposed as a killer is kind of... Kazuma, sir, are you also unable to control your hatred and having it lash out in illogical ways? Is that a parallel with Van Zieks I spy?

The rest of the trial isn't directly related to Van Zieks. It's just a whole bunch of roundabout arguing with street peddlers, red-headed scammers and the revelation that one of those peddlers is actually Daley Vigil, the missing former prison warder. Despite knowing of the dangers, Kazuma asks Ryu to help him forcefully break some of the man's black psyche-locks (c'mon, we all know that's what's impeding his memories) and they send the man to the hospital as a result. Welp. Unveiling the truth is becoming increasingly dangerous in this game and that's really upping the stakes for us.

Into the next investigation day we go! Ryu surmises that it's clear now “Van Zieks definitely didn't do it.” Even so, there are some unanswered questions about the man. What was he even doing at the crime scene and what's with that investigation into Gregson he didn't want to talk about in court? Heading on over to the Chief Justice's office, we overhear him pressuring Kazuma into 'continuing the trial as instructed'. Once he takes note of Ryu and the others, he tells them that he wanted Van Zieks's trial concluded that day and blames 'Asogi's unwelcome inquiries' for it taking longer than necessary. Stronghart's becoming increasingly ominous, here... I don't know for certain why he doesn't just go the extra mile to have Van Zieks proven innocent so he can keep using his Reaper tool to intimidate the masses. I suppose it's because with Gregson dead, he's lost his most important strategist in the killings and the tool of the Reaper's curse can't be used as easily anymore. Assassins probably come a dime a dozen, so Shinn can be replaced, but Gregson... Not so much. Ryu asks Stronghart whether Kazuma truly believes Van Zieks to be the Reaper, but Stronghart says he wouldn't know. He once again talks about the history of the Reaper with its very long run of coincidental deaths and tells us nothing new or interesting.

To prison we go, to visit Van Zieks himself! He's reading a book now, but we're never told what it is. He tries to ignore the visitors, but just as always, eventually comes up to the bars to talk.

YOU FREAKIN- I CAN'T- WHY- How many more times must we teach you this lesson, old man?!!! Thankfully, even Ryu is fed up at this point.

Finally. He spoke up. I've seen a lot of people criticize the fact that Ryu never properly confronts Van Zieks with the damage he's been doing, and on the one hand I would agree. Calling people out on their bullshit is a very useful step in having them notice their mistakes. However, I'd be remiss if I didn't point out that is also a very Western view. It's very easy for us to think that Ryu should stand up for himself and call Van Zieks a prejudiced little tosser who needs to think before he speaks, but that simply isn't part of his character. There may be several reasons to explain why he doesn't confront Van Zieks more firmly, but I'd like to focus on just two. The first is that Ryu is an exchange student who came to England as a 'guest' and is facing not just one racist. Not even five or ten. Everywhere he goes, he's surrounded by people just like Van Zieks. We've seen it in the judge, we've seen it in the jurors, we've seen it in Gregson and in witnesses... Ryu is a minority in a very literal sense, since there's only one other Japanese person (two if we count Soseki) we know of in this entire city. There's a very natural, very understandable defense mechanism which may kick in when surrounded by potentially dangerous individuals, and that is to withdraw; to be as quiet as possible and to attract as little trouble as possible, since 'they outnumber you'. Bonus points for the extreme difference in social standing between Ryu and Van Zieks.

There's one other thing which adds to the above. Ryu was written to be your everyday Japanese person, and their view on confrontation is quite different from our own. I remembered this from a job interview I once had with a Japanese company and looked into it again to refresh my memory: Japanese people are non-confrontational. It's very important for them to maintain a sort of harmony during conversation and therefore, they'll rarely utter negative sentiments, such as criticism, in a way that will cause embarrassment to the person they're addressing. Instead, they employ something often referred to as indirect communication. “The pattern of Japanese indirect communication uses far less words to convey intent in a more subtle manner. Indirect communication uses expression, posture, and tone of voice of the speaker to draw meaning from the actual conversation.” This is very deeply ingrained into the Japanese culture and, if the sources I reviewed are correct, it goes all the way back to the feudal days. Mind, this attitude isn't even limited to Japan. I've been told there's several other countries who adopt that very same attitude and if you cause someone else to lose face, it can have some very severe repercussions for you. Kazuma is a bit more outspoken than Ryu, for example when they face Jezail, but this makes sense also, since Asogi was written to be more progressive. It seems to me that Ryu has been using indirect communication quite often already and, since Van Zieks is woefully unequipped to read this type of communication, Ryu has now finally resorted to something more direct. It's still not a sharp call-out, but rather, the above line reads to me as something in-between direct and indirect communication. And it works.

HELL FROZE OVER! We've done it, lads! Or, as Iris puts it:

So even the rest of the cast is acknowledging this is a big deal and we've made tremendous progress. Could someone else have confronted Van Zieks in a more direct, more Western way before this point? Sure. But would he have listened? The judge has already snarked at him several times during trials and it's always been brushed off as nothing. The only person he might've listened to would've been Albert, but what is the narrative significance of having a side character confront Van Zieks? There isn't one. This was a very impactful moment where Ryu himself resorted to a more Western tactic to get his point across and Van Zieks, in turn, finally uttered an apology. So now we get to have an earnest conversation with the man at last. Van Zieks says he was impressed; not by Ryu but by Kazuma. On first glance, this seems like a mean thing to say, but... Van Zieks is already intimately familiar with Ryu's performance in the courtroom. Why would he still be impressed by that? Kazuma, however, he's never seen in action before. Van Zieks thinks it's all rather “sardonic”.

It's called a cruel irony, Barok. A common tool in storytelling. He himself considers it “retribution for having played the part of the Reaper all these years”. So once again it's discussed how the Reaper minimizes the amount of crime in the capital and since that's a goal Van Zieks is committed to, he never said anything to disprove the rumors. Ryu insists that someone else is profiting off Van Zieks's silence on the matter and is basically using him as a scapegoat. As it turns out, Van Zieks wasn't quite as passive about the matter as he's led us to believe.

Hm. Alright, so he thinks it's good the Reaper's curse is reducing crime in London, but clearly he wants the Reaper organization brought to justice. In a way, he's profiting off these 'accidental deaths' since the fear that comes from them aligns with his goal of crime reduction, but he doesn't actively condone the Reaper murders and wants them halted. Since there's so much accurate information about the accused used in the killings, Van Zieks surmised a while ago that someone from Scotland Yard must've been involved in the killings. It's taken him “many years” to identify the central figure in the organization: Tobias Gregson. Naturally, everyone is shocked. We knew Gregson! And sure, he wasn't exactly a kind person, but he certainly didn't appear to be a killer. He was very rough around the edges, but from what we'd been led to believe, he had a good heart. … A decent heart. Mediocre, one might say. Ryu asks whether the reason Van Zieks was investigating Gregson was to expose him as the Reaper, but Van Zieks repeats the notion that the Reaper is not a single person. He doesn't have a doubt, though, that Gregson was a key member of the organization who did all of the planning. Believe it or not, Gregson was the brains behind the killings; the tactician who investigated and plotted, then left the dirty work to an assassin by the name of Asa Shinn. (LOCALIZATION WHY)

So now that we have this information, we can come to a very interesting conclusion. Both Gregson and Shinn are dead now, so by Van Zieks's reasoning, the Reaper is dead. You'd think this is good, but it does in fact make it very difficult to find the truth. Rather, Van Zieks believes that the truth died with Gregson (he hinted as much twice already) and while the seasoned Ace Attorney player knows it won't be impossible to expose a dead person as a killer, it'd be a hectic ordeal. The seasoned Great Ace Attorney player will know the Reaper hierarchy extends just a bit higher and the two who died are only pawns, but... Y'know. Approaching this from a first-time-player point of view, you'll know things will get troublesome.

There's another topic of conversation where Van Zieks once again addresses how sharp Kazuma is in court. He didn't miss a thing.

OUCH. So when Ryu first arrived, Van Zieks saw Genshin whenever he looked at him, not only due to his roots but due to 'the look in his eyes when searching for the truth'. Now, he sees Genshin in Kazuma, which surely makes a lot more sense. Van Zieks goes on to say that it's true some of the aristocracy from 10 years ago were problematic and abusing their power. “In a way, Asogi was carving out a canker from society that we British couldn't deal with ourselves.” So here, he sounds almost complimentary of the Professor's actions- specifically Asogi's actions. As if it would've all been well and good, were it not for the Professor's final victim. “But that's precisely why it makes no sense. Klint van Zieks was a noble and upstanding man. He wasn't corrupt.”

Remember way back in The Unspeakable Story when I surmised that Van Zieks boiled Genshin's actions down to his race in order to avoid the belief that there might've been a reason his brother was killed? We see it here again. Van Zieks is in doubt. He may say vocally that “it makes no sense”, but that line in itself is already telling. The fact that he acknowledges it and draws it into question implies to us that he's skeptical of the story. Deep down, he knows something is amiss. He knows there's some sort of explanation he's missing, but if he were to dig too deeply into it, he'd have to acknowledge that perhaps his brother was corrupt. And this still isn't all of it. There's one more thing Van Zieks has to discuss before we can round this conversation to a close. Ten years ago, shortly after Klint died, Genshin saved his life.

There's that phrasing again. “True nature”. It's not in orange this time, but it's there all the same. Van Zieks is convinced that Genshin is the one who had a hidden true nature. In this story, we learn that 'the scum of London' had already targeted him several times even before he became known as the Reaper, simply because of who he was and who his brother was. JEESH. Harsh. So on the night in question, a couple of thugs also tried to kill him (allegedly) but Genshin stepped in to protect him. Genshin became lightly wounded as a result. This is the part where I would have expected them to explain Van Zieks's scars, but he never mentions being wounded himself, so we can't be sure this is when it happened. Curious. This was the perfect opportunity and they let it slide. So anyway, two days after that incident, Genshin was arrested.

Some more telling lines here. Van Zieks thinks he'd never recount the story to anyone; not because there's no need to tell it. It's because it must be difficult to talk about. On its own, that might be a farfetched conclusion I wouldn't make, but Ryu confirms it with his follow-up line: “Thank you... for confiding in me.” We can take this line to mean exactly what it says; Van Zieks confided something painful. He let down some more walls. Growth!

So with all this out of the way, there's a whole load more investigation to do before this case is over. Most of it has to do with Genshin's will, a mysterious trunk belonging to Gregson, the missing time of death on the autopsy report... Nothing too relevant to Van Zieks's character. However, if we go into the prosecutor's office and examine things while Kazuma is there, we do get some fun tidbits about how Van Zieks wouldn't trust anyone else to touch his things and would rearrange it all himself whenever needed. From the sound of it, Van Zieks is very meticulous and a loner, which aligns with what we know about him. Some more conversation later, we reach the topic of the Reaper with Kazuma. He agrees that Gregson was definitely involved in the Reaper organization, but there's one thing that's more important. “Who's been giving orders to the Inspector?” In my eyes, it's a bit of a stretch to assume with certainty anyone was giving orders; Gregson might've just taken up the vigilante justice by himself and found some way to pay Shinn enough money to get in on it. Kazuma insists, though, that Van Zieks is 'the real Reaper'. We as the audience already know that's nonsense, we know Kazuma is wrong. Or perhaps we might think that if somehow Van Zieks pulled the wool over our eyes and Kazuma is correct, that'd be one heck of a wild twist. Kazuma gives no real reason why he believes this, he only goes on to say that ten years ago, it was Van Zieks who 'decided his father must be a mass murderer'. Shockingly, Susato is the one to jump in here and outright say to Kazuma that he's wrong; that Van Zieks only saw that 'justice was done as the law dictates' and he wasn't to blame for Genshin's execution. Kazuma insists that people condemn people and the law is just a tool they use for it. So I suppose that's exactly what he's doing right now. He's condemning Van Zieks, just as Van Zieks once condemned Genshin. We're cycling! And my main question now is this: If Stronghart had been the prosecutor in the Professor's trial instead, would Kazuma be just as vengeful towards him? Because remember, it's people who condemn people. This implies that anyone who had taken on the job of prosecutor at that time is the one who 'decided that Genshin must've been a murderer' and would need to take responsibility in Kazuma's eyes. Kazuma's beef isn't with Van Zieks personally, it's with the prosecutor who used that tool of the law and also evidence.

HAHAHAAA! HAH! If you align this screenshot next to the “Klint van Zieks was a noble and upstanding man” line, you get a wonderful parallel. These two prosecutors are both dead wrong about their beloved family, and they're about to find out in the worst way possible.

One murder mystery spread out over two episodes? You bet! Stay tuned for the last case, The Resolve of Ryunosuke Naruhodo!

#dgs #dgs spoilers #tgaa #tgaa spoilers #barok van zieks #I can't believe I managed to cram it all into one post #phew #but this was a big one

[hope-grace-serenity]

In Defense of the Deputy: Morals and Ethics in Far Cry 5

The narratives of recent Far Cry installments have been framed in a way that make the player question whether or not they’re truly playing as the “good guy.” In Far Cry 3, Jason slowly embraces the violent lifestyle on Rook Island, gradually finding the killing to be a fun power trip instead of the horrifying reality that it is. In Far Cry 4, Ajay topples a ruthless dictator, only to replace him with a revolutionary that is either a religious extremist or a person who has children kidnapped in order to make them into soldiers/slaves. In Far Cry 5, the Deputy goes up against a professed prophet in an attempt to subdue him and his cult, only to find in the end that the prophet was right about the end of the world. It is logical to think that if the Deputy would have just left the cult well enough alone, then that would have been the right choice, as it would have avoided the war between Eden’s Gate and the rest of Hope County, as possibly the Collapse itself. However, there is a different way to view it.

The purpose of this post is to convey that Joseph being accurate regarding the Collapse does not necessarily mean that avoiding confrontation with Eden’s Gate or joining them would have been the “right” thing to do. In fact, it will suggest the opposite: that the Deputy has a moral and ethical obligation to fight *against* Eden’s Gate and that the actions of the cult are firmly wrong despite the Collapse happening. While we as players can certainly feel empathy for the Seeds, their actions within the game make them the clear villains in this scenario, in my opinion. The Deputy deserves no blame for attempting to subdue the cult, and I will explain why by focusing on both in-universe rationale and looking at the narrative from a broader perspective.

The Warrant

First, we need to examine the idea of morality and ethics. Morality refers to a person’s principles of right and wrong--this is something that can be influenced by a person’s culture, religion, family, experiences, etc. Ethics refers to rules of conduct given by some kind of external source. In Far Cry 5, the protagonist is a law enforcement official with an ethical obligation to uphold the law and confront those who break it. Furthermore, from the perspective of a 21st century American--which we can assume the Deputy is, based on the setting of the game--Eden’s Gate commits several acts that cause harm and remove the personal agency of others, which provides the Deputy with a moral motivation for stopping them, as opposed to solely an ethical one.

An arrest warrant is made for Joseph Seed due to suspicion of kidnapping with an intent to harm. The Deputy choosing not to go through with the arrest would be bad from both a moral and ethical perspective. “Kidnapping with an intent to harm” is a serious charge, and can be a matter of life or death for the victim. Imagine if you were the parent or sibling of the kidnapping victim, and you found out that the law enforcement officials chose not to go through with the arrest of the suspect because they were afraid of rocking the boat. If that information was made public, the law enforcement officials would be rightly criticized for not doing their jobs, and for prioritizing their own desire for convenience over bringing justice to the victim. By arresting Joseph Seed, the Deputy made the moral and ethical decision.

As we see from the main game, the “suspicions” listed in the arrest warrant are later proven to be correct. Alex is killed, and his body is mutilated and put on public display as a warning. Hannah is tortured physically and psychologically, and is also killed due to her forced participation in Jacob’s trials. Joseph and several members of Eden’s Gate knew that they kidnapped the film crew. They knew in advance that Law Enforcement was coming. So, how do they decide to handle this? In a way befitting for characters who are meant to be viewed as villains.

Before the Reaping

Before we get into what the Deputy actually sees in-game, one thing needs to be made clear: Eden’s Gate always had an underlying darkness surrounding them. Regardless of what they looked like on the surface, they were never some peaceful hippie commune that was minding its own business before the Deputy came along. They’ve been committing crimes and getting away with them for years. They didn’t suddenly snap once the Deputy arrived--the Deputy’s arrival simply peeled back and revealed what was already there.

We know from the “Grieving Note” that Angels have been with Eden’s Gate for several years, longer than the current Faith has been with the group. Angels are humans who are exposed to an extreme amount of the Bliss drug, which causes them to lose their capacity for human thought and essentially act as a literal mindless follower. Their loss of identity and individuality is furthered by Eden’s Gate shaving the heads of the Angels and surgically removing their ability to speak. They act as slave labor--described as "beasts of burden"--and are fed dog food and garbage. The idea of becoming an angel is used as a threat to fellow cultists in the “Cult Note” in the King’s Hot Springs Hotel. The fact that Eden's Gate creates and condones the existence of these Angels is truly disturbing from a moral perspective, due to the inherent exploitation and dehumanization. When Angels die, their bodies are tossed in a pit of “boiling muck” in Horned Serpent Cave to disintegrate.

Angels aren’t the only ones thrown in the pit to disintegrate: Joseph threw the body of Lana, a previous Faith, in there as well, despite being told by him that she was “special.” There is a reason the writers chose to highlight that the bodies were disposed of in here, as opposed to the cult simply burying them. Bodies are disintegrated if you want to hide evidence, and by tossing the bodies in a location with properties dangerous enough to require a bio-hazard sign, any crimes are easily covered up. We don’t find the bodies of Selena or the other previous Faiths who were "used up and thrown away" by Joseph, but considering there are hints that point to foul play (disintegration of Lana’s body, Megan leaving out of fear of what Joseph could do after seeing that there was a new Faith, the way the position itself is dehumanized, the fact that Joseph has a designated corpse disposal spot in the first place, etc.) and absolutely zero evidence towards any kind of alternate fate for the previous Faiths, it’s easy to put two and two together and conclude that the previous Faiths met a grisly fate that was covered up as well.

Eden’s Gate was also involved in animal abuse through the creation of Judges, which were unleashed after the reaping. These animals were kidnapped and forcibly exposed to an obscene amount of the Bliss drug, which purposely causes them to act like rabid killers in the service of Eden’s Gate. According to NPCs, they were trained to hunt humans.

Let’s also not forget that Joseph personally gorged a guy’s eyes out for being a traitor. If the developers didn’t want us to view Joseph as someone who was capable of doing that, then they would have removed it from the introductory video, but they didn’t. Also, the fact that Eden’s Gate has been planning for the Reaping for a while now shows that this group had the intent to launch a large-scale attack from before the Deputy even arrived at the compound.

And last but certainly not least, YEARS before the events of FC5, Jacob sent the Cook to kidnap Jess’s family. The Cook starved the family for days before torturing the parents and children by playing sick mind games and feeding the parents' flesh to their children. After all their toes were cut off, the parents were set on fire in front of their kids. The fact that this happened years ago, and this Cook is still with the group, is quite telling and reveals a lot about the morality and priorities of Eden’s Gate. If they wanted to get rid of him, they would have.

So as we can see, Eden’s Gate has no moral high ground to stand on at the start of the game. Not only is Joseph guilty of the crime he is accused of, but he and his organization are guilty of so much more, and have been for years. These actions committed by Eden’s Gate violate numerous laws and are morally wrong, as they bring severe harm to others and/or forcibly remove another’s personal agency for the convenience of the cult. The Deputy uncovers all of this throughout the course of the game.

During the Reaping

Knowledge of Eden’s Gate’s past crimes would be reason enough to take down this cult, but the Deputy also sees the current horrors firsthand. During the Reaping, cultists kidnap, torture, mutilate, and murder numerous unwilling participants. They steal supplies and were willing to kidnap a beloved pet dog in order to perform experiments on him and turn the poor dog into a savage killer, after killing his owners. Defaced corpses are decorated and strung up as warnings. Some citizens of Hope County are fed to Judges, while others are turned into Angels or are forced to leap off a giant statue. If someone doesn’t convert to the religion of Eden’s Gate, then they are either tortured or drugged until they give in, or murdered.

The Deputy has zero incentive to walk away from this conflict. Why would they? As a deputy of Hope County, they have a moral and ethical obligation to protect the county’s citizens, and those citizens are under attack by Eden’s Gate. Eden’s Gate are the aggressors in this scenario. *They* are the ones who are kidnapping, murdering, torturing, and brainwashing the Hope County citizens. As far as the Deputy is aware at the beginning of the game, they are the only remaining police officer and only person in a position of authority to fight against the cult. It is their responsibility to fight against the people causing grievous harm to the county.

Throughout the game, the Deputy’s personal encounters with the heralds further reinforce the idea that Eden’s Gate is dangerous and beyond reason. While confessions can and should be voluntary, John does not approach it in that way. John kidnaps, terrorizes, and tortures the hardened Joey Hudson to the point of tears, and brings the Deputy to his torture dungeon where he once pried confessions under duress from prior individuals of the county. He kidnapped the Deputy in order to forcibly baptize them to the point where they might have drowned without Joseph’s interference, and captures them in order to make them confess, using the presence of Hudson as leverage (Hudson’s misery was also used as incentive on the video to draw the Deputy to the Holland region). He lures the Deputy to the church in the same way (by kidnapping their friends) and then permanently modifies their body against their will. Despite his proclaimed desire to have the Deputy atone, John also expresses desire to see the Deputy dead on occasion, such as after they destroy his sign.

While it might be easier for the player to sympathize with John due to his backstory and dynamic with Joseph, from the Deputy’s in-universe perspective, his instability represents a very real, tangible threat not only to them, but to the people of Hope County as a whole. At every turn, John has either imposed his will onto the Deputy by removing opportunities for agency and/or harming others. The Deputy owes John nothing. Any "choice" he gives of saying "Yes" is undermined by the massive amount of strings attached. It is difficult to envision a reason why the Deputy would decide to give into John’s philosophy, aside from faking it in order to protect their allies. This is a failing on John's part, not the Deputy.

Like John, Faith also expresses a desire for the Deputy to give in to Eden's Gate. But unlike John, she initially appears to the Deputy in a more pacifistic, less confrontational way. Despite this, the Deputy is still able to see her darker side due to her views on the Angels and fate of the unfortunate souls who walk the path whipping themselves and take a literal leap off of the statue of Joseph. Furthermore, she overrides the Deputy’s agency through the use of Bliss, which drastically warps one’s perception of reality. The Bliss that she now controls makes the horrific creation of Angels possible, and this Bliss is also used during baptisms, which muddles the issue of personal agency and consent to John’s process in addition to her own conversion process. The dangers of the Bliss and how it affects one’s thought process become highlighted in the Henbane region, and letters, voicemails, and NPC chatter show that Faith is not one to be trifled with. This comes to a head when Faith brainwashes the Sheriff and manipulates the Marshall into killing Virgil before killing himself. While it’s easy to have sympathy for Faith and her experiences, from the Deputy’s perspective, Faith is still a potential danger, which is why they step back when she leaned toward them during her death scene.

Jacob too removes the Deputy’s personal agency by literally brainwashing them and turning them into a tool that he can command, which eventually results in the Deputy being forced to kill a friend. He forced captives into competing against each other in life or death trials. He keeps the Deputy in a cage with a dead body and feeds them “mystery meat” after seven days of starving them while telling them a story about how he cannibalized his friend. The Judges are his brainchild that he sends to attack and kill others. Like John, Jacob also kidnapped and tortured a fellow police officer, to the point where they act like a slave to Jacob’s whims. Jacob has not done anything other than convincing the Deputy that he is a threat.

It is not the Deputy's job to fix the Seeds' personal issues--it's their job to protect Hope County. Throughout their journey, the Deputy sees various atrocities being committed, both to strangers and to themselves and the people they care about. There is zero reason for the Deputy to genuinely give in to the Seeds and join Eden's Gate, considering the horrible way they were treated and how they saw others being treated.

Joseph and the Voice

The Deputy’s presence did not *force* Eden’s Gate to start the Reaping. *Joseph* was the one to initiate it as a reaction to the Deputy’s presence, and all of Eden’s Gate followed him lockstep. When given the opportunity to finally confront and arrest the man responsible or walk away, it almost feels laughable that it’s even a choice at this point.

As leader of Eden’s Gate, Joseph oversees all parts of the Project. The buck stops with him. If he had any issues with Faith’s Angels, or Jacob’s trials, or John’s torture, he could have and would have said something--such as when he intervenes during the baptism--but he doesn’t. Because it furthers the goal of the Project, he doesn’t see any issue with these actions and feels they are justified.

Joseph’s vision of the Collapse coming true doesn’t mean that his actions throughout the game have greater inherent morality than the Deputy. It just means that he’s right about the Collapse. Regarding the Reaping, I do not believe that Joseph was motivated by a sense of cruelty, but that doesn’t change how many of the actions he participated in and oversaw *were* cruel. In real life, we see various examples of some people (not just in religious institutions, but in positions of authority in general) who commit harmful acts for the sake of a perceived “greater good.” And many of those people genuinely believe in what they are doing, believe they are in the right. But that doesn’t mean they actually are.

Which brings us to the elephant in the room: the Voice. If the Voice of God supports Joseph, then surely the deputy is automatically the “bad guy” for opposing him, right?

Wrong.

First, we have to be willing to admit that we know next to nothing about the Voice. The only things we know about it is what is conveyed to us by Joseph. We do not know the exact wording of what the Voice says, the level of detail it gives him regarding expectations (if any), or even what it is. Is it the voice of God? Satan? A real angel? Some kind of eldritch entity from another dimension? How accurate is Joseph's reiteration or interpretation? Sometimes it seems to directly tell Joseph things (hence the title, “the Voice”), other times it shows him visions. Clearly, there is some kind of supernatural component, as it allows Joseph to see the future, but since we don’t know much about it specifically, we can’t automatically assume or attribute inherent benevolence or morality to it.

Second, it’s entirely possible for a genuine prophet of God (assuming the Voice does indeed belong to a benevolent creator), or those who have/had God’s favor, to engage in morally questionable behavior, both in the eyes of God and/or in the eyes of 21st century readers. While the Project at Eden’s Gate is its own distinct religion, it takes most of its cues from Christianity, both in terms of practices and beliefs. In the Bible, King David had a man murdered so he could sleep with that man’s wife. Jonah wanted the entire population of a city to be killed off instead of having them repent. Jacob (the Biblical figure) deceives his father into giving him a birthright that belonged to his brother, and shows blatant favoritism to one son which ends up causing a lot of internal strife within the family. It’s fully within the realm of possibility that Joseph’s actions are not meant to be endorsed, either by the Voice itself or by the narrative in a broader sense.

In New Dawn, Joseph alludes to his own personal failings by saying, “My soul has become a cancer. I am a monster. I only spread suffering and death in the name of God.” The death of his son and the destruction of New Eden act as a moment of awakening for Joseph, as he finally realizes the harsh reality of his actions and how they affect others. He then expresses a desire for death and says, “There is only the justice of God’s hand.” The implication of “justice” being done indicates that the Voice (“God”) would not be happy with some of the actions that Joseph did. So while Joseph’s actions in FC5 were done with the intent of serving the Voice, his execution of these ideas was something that Joseph feels God would not like, as his actions spread death and suffering.

And thirdly, we have to remember that the Deputy and the player are viewing the idea of morality from the perspective of a 21st century human. Let’s say that, hypothetically, the Voice specifically instructed and condoned the erasure of free will/murders/kidnappings/etc. for whatever reason, and by enacting them, Joseph and Eden’s Gate were “just following orders.” Does this absolve Joseph and Eden's Gate of responsibility? No. Willing participation in the crimes committed, even if it wasn’t “their idea,” can still have legal consequences and can still be viewed as “bad” from a moral perspective because of the results of those actions.

The Collapse

It has been discussed elsewhere (on this site and in outside articles/discussions about the game) that the actions of the deputy correspond with the role of the Lamb in Revelations, and by breaking the seals, the Deputy’s actions supernaturally trigger the Collapse. This interpretation is fairly popular, and is one I personally support. However, I do not feel as though this interpretation lessens the morality of the Deputy's actions. Their decision to fight the Seeds is still the right one, regardless of whether or not their actions resulted in some kind of cosmic game of dominos.

First off, when the Deputy is attempting to take down the Seeds and protect the people of Hope County, they are not doing this with the intent of playing a role in a cosmic prophecy that will result in the death of millions. They’re looking at the situation from a human perspective, and acting accordingly and sensibly. The Seeds, on the other hand, were willingly harming innocents both before and during the Reaping.

Second, if there's a need to assign blame to a human for starting the Collapse (and I personally don't think there needs to be), it would be the Seeds, not the Deputy. The Sheriff and the deputies wouldn’t have arrived with the arrest warrant if the Seeds were not kidnapping and doing other illegal actions.

And thirdly, if one does attribute blame of the Collapse to the Deputy, then one also must attribute the birth of the new world to them as well. Following along with the idea that the events of FC5 are a fulfillment of Revelations, then the Collapse is ultimately viewed as a Good Thing within in the context of the Book of Revelations, even if the player might not personally share the sentiment. The Book of Revelations describes how the new world that is supposed to emerge from the ashes of the old is meant to be much better than the one before. And if we look at the world of New Dawn--and I’m going to copy and paste something I wrote previously here---Nature is allowed to flourish, people work together and support each other in a tight community, all the social ills mentioned in the Book of Joseph (and by the characters in-game) no longer exist. The only “snakes in the garden” would be the Highwaymen, and they are abolished by the Captain, who Joseph prophesizes to be some kind of Messiah-like figure. The final scene of New Dawn is one of hope, where the characters talk about building a better future. The way Joseph and Ethan’s storyline ends also connects to the whole idea of breaking away from the past and moving forward. If one believes that the Deputy is responsible for the Collapse, then this new world shown in New Dawn and the context of Revelations complicates the idea of viewing the Deputy's actions as being inherently bad.

Some might also argue that the Deputy has responsibility for not taking Joseph's warnings more seriously. Why though? Why should the Deputy attribute more credibility to Joseph's claims than, say, those of Marshall Applewhite or David Koresh? As players who know the ending, it’s easy for us to say that the Deputy should have listened to Joseph's warning about the Collapse, but there’s no in-universe rationale for the Deputy to do so. Issues of belief aside, Eden’s Gate’s actions alone are enough to paint an extremely negative picture of the group and would be enough to make any regular person not want to associate with them.

Under the framework of the Revelations prophecy being the intended interpretation of the game events though, I personally don't feel that any character "deserves" blame for the Collapse happening, not even the Seeds. I blame the Seeds for what they do to people within the game and before the events of FC5. And my perception of the Deputy is based on what we see in the game as well. But again, the Revelations prophecy idea is simply one way to view the game. Regardless of whether or not this interpretation is the correct one, the deputy still has the moral high ground in their fight against the Seeds.

Conclusion

Joseph being right about the Collapse does not mean that his (and by extension, Eden’s Gate’s) actions during FC5 were justified, and the Deputy should not be blamed for fighting against them. Just as the Deputy made a choice to arrest Joseph, Joseph made the choice to react in the worst way possible with the Reaping. Eden’s Gate were the aggressors who were kidnapping, torturing, and murdering people throughout the county. The Deputy fights against Eden’s Gate as a direct result of *Eden's Gate's* actions. The Deputy deserves no blame or guilt for killing the Seeds and destroying their bases of operations, as they reacted in a logical way based on the quality of information they had at the time.

In New Dawn, the Deputy expresses an extreme amount of guilt, which transforms them into the Judge. This guilt is misplaced and should be attributed to the other resident of the bunker, which is something Joseph himself even alludes to during his final speech in New Dawn when he criticizes his own actions. If Eden’s Gate did not start attacking the people of Hope County, the bunkers would still be standing, and the Seeds and many other cultists would still be alive. But they did, so they’re not.

While I adore all four of the Seeds as characters and have varying degrees of sympathy for them, they are firmly villains within the context of the story due to their actions. The deputy is not a bad guy for trying to stop them. The fact the Seeds sided with a guy who kidnapped and starved a family, then fed the parents' flesh to their children while playing “this little piggy” with the parents’ toes, and then murdered said parents in front of their children should speak for itself.

TL;DR: The deputy’s decision to confront Joseph instead of walking away was the right one.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #joseph seed #jacob seed #faith seed #john seed #the junior deputy #long post #tw: canon typical violence #far cry 5 meta #fc5 meta #far cry #i do love all these characters #just to be perfectly clear lol #far cry meta

[dwellordream]

“Plenty of women spoke out against rape in the Middle Ages, though just like now, they had to struggle to be heard. Medieval courts often let rapists go with little explanation and placed the burden of proof on the victim, as demonstrated by several cases in this register from 14th century Paris. In one instance, chambermaid Eudelot la Picarde accused her employer Guillaume Damours of raping her, and the court tasked her with producing witnesses, to which she responded that there were none. La Picarde failed to appear in court at the next date (perhaps because she knew she had no proof) and Damours was absolved. In another case, Jacqueline la Cyrière was accused of luring ten-year-old Jeannette Bille-heuse into her home and then aiding a Lombard soldier in raping the child. The court does not explain what happens to the soldier who actually committed the crime of rape, and focuses all its attention on La Cyrière, who is sentenced to burn at the stake.

A few cases stand out as exceptions. In 1385, Perrote Turelure was pardoned via a letter of remission by the king’s court for killing a squire named Brunet. Brunet had been pursuing her relentlessly, and eventually broke into her home and tried to rape her. Turelure killed him in order to avoid being raped. It is stated that Turelure “refused for fear of the harm done to her body and rape” and “feared the dishonor, shame and corruption of the virginity of her body and to be dishonored or dead.” At first, Turelure’s case looks like a success story. But why was she pardoned, and why was her use of physical force against her attacker such a crucial factor?

The clearest rape law that we have from medieval France stresses the importance of a woman forcefully resisting rape: “To force a woman is when someone has carnal intercourse by force with a woman against the will of said woman and when she does everything in her power to defend herself.” (This definition bears startling similarity to the one used by the FBI’s Uniform Crime Reporting system prior to 2013). By this medieval definition, if a victim did not resist verbally and physically, there was little way to prove she had been raped. In court, a victim would be questioned repeatedly to gain a sense of how physical and verbal her resistance was. Turelure’s resistance was considered so valiant that the king’s court pardoned her for the murder of her attacker and attempted to clear away any of the damage done to her reputation by the attempted rape (underscoring how suffering sexual violence could ruin a woman’s life).

Some women found their reputations so damaged by having been raped that they were forced into prostitution; there was little other space for them in society. If they could not get married due to the loss of their virginity, then they had to find the means to support themselves elsewhere. Turlure’s response to the rape was perhaps only acceptable because of who she was—a woman with an honest reputation who in the court’s eyes understood the value of her virginity and took steps to protect it.

Similarly, in 1386, Marguerite de Thibouville spoke of her lengthy resistance to rape to the Paris Parlement court. She testified that she repeatedly cried out, beat her attacker Jacques le Gris with her fists, and barricaded herself in another room. She is said to have “continued to scream” throughout the attack and Le Gris is quoted as saying that he “never met a stronger woman.” Her strong resistance, and the fact that the attacker broke into her home, is likely why the court granted her husband’s wish for a trial by combat, during which he executed Le Gris. De Thibouville’s forceful resistance was also a marker of her good, honest character, and her chastity as a married woman. Turelure’s case demonstrates something similar, for there is hardly a stronger sign of resistance than killing one’s attacker.

These two cases reveal an apparent contradiction in medieval French society, and, I think, in our own as well. If it is acceptable for a woman to kill the man who has attempted to rape her, then it follows that the rapist has committed an egregious wrong-doing, justifying his murder. So far, so good (more or less). Brunet bears the guilt for what occurs, not Turelure—despite the fact that he is the one who ends up dead. One would think this relationship could be true in the reverse: since Brunet, or any rapist, bears the blame for the violent crime, then the victim shoulders none of it. In other words, victim blaming shouldn’t be possible when the rapist is explicitly held accountable both by the would-be victim and the court. But we know that Turelure’s and De Thibouville’s cases are the exception rather than the rule, and more often than not medieval women were blamed for the crime committed against them.

Although these women may sound heroic (and in some ways they certainly are), there is a darker side to female self-defense. Rapist seek to subjugate their victims, making them relinquish control over their bodies and wills. Medieval courts demanded that the victims be active enough participants in the rape to not only resist it thoroughly but to stop it from happening at all. Then, as now, women were expected to be good rape victims. Turelure was only pardoned because she proved, within a shadow of a doubt, her desire to protect her virginity, and thus her status as an honorable woman.

But what happened to women whose resistance wasn’t as successful or forceful? And what happens to them now? In asking women to resist rape forcefully, we acknowledge it as a heinous crime or violent action that should thus be met with equal violence from its victims. And yet, we do not treat rape like a heinous crime. We have simultaneously classified rape as something terrible—the worst thing that can happen to a woman—and then we continuously fail to treat it as such.”

- Lucia Akard, “A Medieval #MeToo.”

#history #medieval #cw: rape #cw: csa #lucia akard

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Day 3 Birthday Plot Bunnies 2

If you want this to become my next WIP, be sure to shower it with lots of love!!  🥰 💖 All the story starters will be linked back to this masterpost.

Title: Soul Traitors

Summary: Betrayal among soulmates is unheard of in all the free races of Arda, yet that’s exactly what Durin, King of Khazad-dûm, endures. Heartsick and angry, he damns the Valar for their choice and earns their wrath in return. He and his former lover will be reincarnated until the wrong between them is righted. Thorin, Durin’s lastest reincarnation, believes nothing can break that curse and instead mounts a quest for the Arkenstone to free his people of theirs. Gandalf, the meddlesome wizard, offers a Burglar for their quest. A hobbit burglar who will help Thorin uncover more than just a gem.

Warnings: Character Death, Gore (I mean, it’s not heavily descripted gore, but it does mention the manner of the character’s death so just to be safe.)

Each of the races have their own views on soulmates and how you go about finding them. However, all seem to agree that to find a soulmate is a very special thing. To find the one person who you can trust with your whole heart and soul. That’s why to the dwarves, they called these people, Ones. None would ever consider betraying their Ones as that seemed a cruelness beyond even that of the orcs. Which is why King Durin stood in the high chamber of the court of Khazad-dûm staring down at the small figure below with such shock and fear, many feared a light breeze could topple their usually infallible king.

The curly haired creature in chains returned the king’s stare with heartbreaking indifference. Many of the court began to chant prayers to Mahal that this was not to be so. That the One of their dear king wouldn’t dare do that which he was accused. Durin’s flat and breathless voice finally spoke, silencing all in the hall.

“Madoc son of Maloch of the Holbyta Tribe Fallohide, you stand before the King of Khazad-dûm as the sole conspirator and thief of the Arkenstone. One of the great treasures of our kingdom. What plea do you make in your defense?”

With no hesitation, no change in emotion, the small being stated the same line Durin’s heard since his capture.

“I love you.”

The king leaned forward to bow his head as he gripped the stone podium tighter. 

“Madoc, this is serious!” Durin’s most trusted advisor, Gelbim, spoke up. “You have taken a sacred relic from our halls, and not just any, but the one that has the power to bring ruin upon our city and our people! Your crime is punishable by death. For the love of Mahal and the great Valar, please, tell us where you’ve hidden the Arkenstone.”

Durin slowly brought his eyes up as the silence persisted to see a small break in Madoc’s mask. His jaw trembled and a single tear leaked from his soft hazel eyes that Durin had loved from the moment he met him. 

“I...love...you.” He sobbed.

That was the moment Durin’s heart broke. Not shattered completely though. No, unfortunately that particular pain would come later that week when Madoc’s sentence was being carried out. But this...this was the first of a pain that would never desist.

“How can you when you hurt me so?” Durin asked softly, yet his words carried through the chamber as Madoc bowed his head in defeat. “You are given a traitor’s sentence. Death with no chance to appeal. Your name will not be spoken aloud again, your hair will be shorn and removed of any braids and beads, and your body will be burned rather than returned to the land and stone. In the Eyes of Mahal, so mote it be.”

Gelbim, his dear friend, told him he didn’t need to attend. None would think less of their king. Durin wished he had listened. He couldn’t bear to watch, but the sound of the axe going straight through his One’s neck would haunt him for the rest of his life. As it was, he stumbled to his chambers to fall and not rise from their marital bed for weeks after. When he resumed his reign, the toll of losing heart and soul was apparent to all. 

Durin became hardened in the final years of his reign. He demanded every ounce of mithril in the mountain to be pulled up and sold it to his allies for too high a price. What he didn’t sell, he forged. Weapons, jewelry, a particular handsome mailshirt, and if it were all the same size as his beloved holbyta? Well, none had it in them to point it out to their fading king. As demanded of a traitor’s death, the name Madoc was stricken from all records and replaced with the Amrâb Hufrel or “the soul’s betrayal of all betrayals”. The rest of the Fallohide tribe which was camped near the Misty Mountains was forced to pack up and resume their nomadic lifestyle west or face war with the dwarves. The sorrows of Durin were not to stop there. 

“The goblins of the Deep grow bolder.” Gelbim remarked as they watched the latest battalion return battered and worse for wear.

“Without the Arkenstone, they will not stop.” Durin growled.

“Durin, my friend, we’ve sent quest after quest after the gem. Wherever M-the Amrâb Hufrel has hidden it, we may not ever find it. It may be time to consider...alternatives.”

“What alternative is there aside from leaving my mountain and my mithril!” Durin spat.

Gelbim raised an eyebrow at his answer. “And is that worth more than the lives of your kin?”

Durin froze before spinning around quick as a flash. “Leave if that is your wish! This has been the home of MY line since the reign of Durin I and I WILL NOT GO!”

Go, Gelbim did taking a third of his kingdom with him including the young Prince Thrain and his mother. Crown Prince Nain, Durin’s only stone son, could not be moved to leave his father to his fate even as he saw the heartless path he wrought. For in their quest for more mithril, an ancient evil slumbering deep below the rock was awoken. The king led a frantic charge against the beast and was slain almost instantly. The war against Durin’s Bane lasted a year longer, but when the newly instated King Nain, was slain, the mountain and its riches were abandoned. In the lore of Durin’s folk, this was the first great curse of the Amrâb Hufrel’s theft.

Durin, who welcomed his death with open arms, awoke expecting to find the Halls of His Father. Instead, the nervous face of his treacherous One amongst a starry plane was the first sight he was graced with. 

“Oh Durin, my heart…” The holbyta began taking a step forward.

“You!” The king snarled, moving away as quickly as he could.

The Amrâb Hufrel looked miserable as his face twisted in anguish. “Please let me explain…”

“NOW YOU WISH TO EXPLAIN!” Durin boomed. “You had your chance! You had every opportunity to tell of your nefarious schemes, and instead you mocked me. You mocked my kingdom, a kingdom you once called yours. Well look at it now! All because of you!”

The creature before him was truly wretched and small as he hunkered against every blow Durin dealt. And the dwarf was yet to be finished.

“Peace, my son.” Came a great voice from above that Durin instantly recognized as His Father even having never heard it before. “You have made your point. Now let your Sanâzyung (Perfect/True Love) say his piece.”

“NO!” Durin roared against the very heavens themselves. “I don’t want to have anything to do with this...this...Amrâb Hufrel!”

Thunder rumbled, shaking the entire platform they stood upon. And while the holbyta trembled in the face of such power, Durin’s anger was too great to be cowed.

“You would reject this gift we offer, son of Aulë?” A female voice demanded, icy and iron.

“What gift?” Durin sneered. “Unless you offer me the chance to sever his head myself this time, I see no gift here.”

The other creature of blood released a gasp that was more like a sob, but Durin had no more patience for the likes of him. In fact, he had nothing left to give to him. Something that became apparent to the Valar watching.

“You have become cruel.” Another, softer female voice soothed. “You know only the truths you have seen with your own eyes.”

“And it is enough for me to condemn that thing and the Great Valar that thought to join my soul with it! Damn him and DAMN ALL OF YOU!”

If Durin expected the same booming show of power he received previously, he was sorely disappointed. Instead, it just all seemed to fade away. The stars, the platform, and the holbyta. His sorrowful face full of tears was the last thing Durin saw before he was swallowed by the darkness. The darkness allowed no sound, not even from Durin’s own voice, and no escape. He was unsure how long he wavered in that place: hours, weeks, years? He was utterly and completely alone until finally the voice of His Father broke through.

“You have shamed me, my uzfakuh (great joy). You have shamed me, you have shamed yourself, and you have shamed your Sanâzyung.”

Durin knew he could not speak back, but he still fumed at the Great Smith’s words. 

“We have thought long and hard on how you can atone for the atrocities you’ve committed today.”

And what of the Amrâb Hufrel’s atrocities?

“Your path will not be an easy one, especially if you hold tight to the stubborn slights of your mortal heart. For a soul is worth so much more. You and your Sanâzyung shall be reborn over and over as many times as needed until you can right the wrongs between you and hear the truth of his soul.”

Durin felt a burning on his breast and looked down to behold a glowing oak tree being inked in chains.

“You shall carry this mark in every life of yours henceforth, and it shall know the mark of Madoc in return. Only free of the chains that bind your soul, will you be welcome in my Halls.”

The legend of Durin’s curse and the theft of the Amrâb Hufrel passed down through the centuries until it had inscribed all dwarven mothers with fear. For any child to bear the mark of Durin was to lead a loveless and empty life. Likewise, any “hobbits” as they preferred that met with the dwarves were met with open hostility. Especially if they bore their own mark, though none knew for certain if it was Madoc’s or not. Still, the hobbits learned fast and stories of their own circulated that any child bearing an acorn on their palm would be hunted and killed by the dwarves. So as the stories grew wilder and edged with desperation, Durin and Madoc were reborn again and again just as Aulë promised, but were no closer to breaking the curse that bound them so.

It was many centuries later when a young prince from Durin’s own line was born to the immediate wailing and disappointment of every dwarf in attendance. Not even a few seconds old, Thorin, son of Thrain, Prince of Erebor bore the heavy burdens of his ancestor. It steeled his heart as he grew into adolescence and forced him to throw his all into his duties as prince. He would love Erebor for none would ever love him. And when Erebor was attacked by the dragon, it was Thorin’s foresight and friendship with the men of Dale that was able to send Smaug away. Thorin grew from prince into a king his people could be proud of, and he never wavered from his vow to his kingdom. Never knowing that almost a century and a half later, a hobbit was born with the death sentence of his people on his palm and a destiny he would not be able to escape.

#birthdayplotbunnies #bagginshield #thilbo #starterdrabbles #because i'm clearly in a mood for overly angsty fics #twist on the soulmark trope

[pinktwingirl]

Loki Series Rewrite (AKA Loki Series but with Squirrel Girl): Ep 1

Hey guys! Long story short, I wasn’t a fan of the Loki series, so I decided to make my own rewrite (including my favorite Marvel character, Squirrel Girl!) These are basically a collection of scenes that I would’ve either added or rewritten to improve the show. Btw, this is a continuation of my Endgame rewrite where Loki comes back to life after dying in Infinity War, so the Loki in this version is modern-day Loki, not 2012 Loki. Also, the whole Loki x Sylvie self-cest thing made me VEEERRRRY UNCOMFY, so I got rid of it. Their relationship is purely platonic in this. Anyways, enjoy! (This work is in screenplay format.)

INT. TVA - DAY

We pan through the TVA and see agents at work, checking timelines and watching training videos. We see various TVA posters warning about variants and "protecting the sacred timeline."

We then cut to RAVONNA RENSLAYER in her office. She is at her desk, sorting through files. Suddenly, an agent bursts in.

AGENT

Ma'am, we have a situation.

Ravonna follows the agent to a computer, where we see a timeline branching off from the main one.

AGENT

Is this the variant we've been searching for?

Ravonna glances at the computer and nods.

RAVONNA

About damn time...

EXT. CHICAGO BAR, 1986 - NIGHT

We see a woman with long, black hair and a green dress chatting with a man in a bar. The song "Devil Woman" by Cliff Richard is playing in the background.

MAN

Can I interest you in another drink, beautiful?

The woman lets out a flirty laugh and blushes.

WOMAN

Oh, you're too kind.

The man turns to the bartender.

MAN

Hey, can you get my girl here a...

(He turns to the woman.)

What can I get you, honey?

WOMAN

Surprise me.

The man turns back to the bartender.

MAN

You heard her.

The woman has a devilish smirk on her face as she watches them. The man turns back to her as the bartender starts mixing a drink.

MAN

You know, I feel selfish. I've been talking so much about myself, but I still don't know a thing about you.

WOMAN

Well... what do you want to know?

Suddenly, another man approaches them.

MAN #2

Hey, what do you think you're doing with my date?!

MAN

Your date? She's mine, asshole!

MAN #2

I caught her first!

(He turns to the woman.)

I'm sorry, honey, is this guy bothering you?

MAN

Bothering her?! You listen here, shithead-

He grabs the other man and they begin to wrestle with each other.

WOMAN

(Playfully)

Oh no, please don't fight over me...

As the men grow more violent, a bit of green magic shoots out of the woman's hand, causing the first man's wallet to fly into her grasp. She slips by the men, undetected as the bartender tries to break them up. Outside the bar, the woman walks off. With a smirk, she shifts into LOKI, now in his male form. He unveils the tesseract with magic and disappears.

INT. THE BENATAR - NIGHT

Loki reappears in the Guardians' ship, where Thor and the Guardians of the Galaxy are waiting for him. Loki smirks.

LOKI

Another successful venture.

THOR

Did they fight?

LOKI

Like bilgesnipe.

Thor bursts into laughter, and Loki hands Rocket the wallet.

LOKI

I also got the wallet, as requested. Although, I don't think Midgardian currency will have much value on the far side of the galaxy.

ROCKET

Who cares about the money? I just wanted the wallet.

(He dumps out the dollar bills and admires the wallet.)

This is nice leather...

LOKI

Anyone else have any travel requests?

QUILL

Oh, I got a whole bunch.

NEBULA

Quit acting like children. An infinity stone is not a toy to be played with.

LOKI

Oh, please. The tesseract and I go far back. If anyone can control it, I can.

ROCKET

You know, I'm starting to think you've just gotten sick of being around us, and now you're just looking for an excuse to get away.

LOKI

I will neither confirm nor deny that.

THOR

By that, he means "yes."

ROCKET

That's pretty rude of you, grease weasel.

Loki scowls at him.

DRAX

Can you travel to Kylos? I would greatly enjoy having some trego fruit again.

LOKI

Certainly.

The tesseract starts to glow in his hands.

INT. TVA - DAY

The agent and Ravonna are still at the computer.

AGENT

He's using the stone again. He's going to time-jump.

RAVONNA

Block it. Intercept him.

The agent presses a button.

EXT. MONGOLIA - DAY

Loki crash lands in the Gobi Desert and wakes up, looking utterly confused as a group of villagers approach him.

VILLAGER

(in Mongolian)

Who are you? Why have you come to our home?

Loki raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to respond. Suddenly, a portal opens and several TVA agents enter. They lean down to examine the tesseract, and Loki abruptly rushes over to them.

LOKI

Don't touch that!

The agents ready their prune sticks. Suddenly, HUNTER B-15 opens a portal and enters.

HUNTER B-15

It appears to be a standard sequence violation.

(She checks her tem-pad)

Branch is growing at a stable rate and slope. Variant identified.

LOKI

I beg your pardon?

HUNTER B-15

On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the sacred timeline. Hands up.

The agents activate their prune sticks.

HUNTER B-15

You're coming with us.

LOKI

I'm sorry, who's "us"?

Hunter B-15 activates her own prune stick.

HUNTER B-15

Last chance, variant.

Loki chuckles.

LOKI

Look, I don't know who the hell you seem to think you are... But if you don't mind, this is actually your last chance.

(Beat)

Now get out of my way.

Before he can attack, Hunter B-15 strikes him with her stick.

INT. TVA COURTROOM - DAY

Ravonna pounds her gavel.

RAVONNA

Next case, please!

Hunter B-15 forces Loki onto the stand.

RAVONNA

"Laufeyson"... Variant L1130, aka "Loki Laufeyson"...

LOKI

I prefer "Odinson," thank you.

After a pause, Ravonna shrugs.

RAVONNA

Very well...

(She crosses out "Laufeyson" on his case file and writes in "Odinson.")

Loki Odinson, you are charged with sequence violation 7-20-89. How do you plead?

Loki chuckles.

LOKI

Madam, a god doesn't plead. Look, this has been a very enjoyable pantomime, but I'd like to go home now.

RAVONNA

Are you guilty or not guilty, sir?

Loki smirks.

LOKI

Guilty of being the god of mischief, yes. Guilty of finding all of this incredibly tedious, yes. Guilty of a... "crime"... against the "sacred timeline"? Absolutely not, you have the wrong person.

RAVONNA

Oh, really? And who should we have?

LOKI

Well, in my defense, the only reason I ever came in possession of the tesseract is because the Avengers traveled back in time.

Mobius enters the courtroom.

RAVONNA

We're not here to talk about the Avengers. What they did was supposed to happen; you reviving yourself with the tesseract and running around time, causing chaos was not.

Loki laughs.

LOKI

I'm sorry - not supposed to happen according to whom?

RAVONNA

The timekeepers.

INT. TIME THEATER - DAY

Mobius is showing Loki clips of his life and trying to dig deeper into his psyche.

MOBIUS

You know, trying to kill all the frost giants, invading Earth, I don't see anything very mischievous about this...

He plays a clip of the bifrost nearly destroying Jotunheim. A family of frost giants runs in fear as the land is destroyed. A little girl screams as her father is vaporized by the blast. Loki is visibly uncomfortable.

MOBIUS

Look at that. Did you enjoy doing that?

LOKI

Enough of your games. You've made your point.

Ignoring him, Mobius plays the clip of him telling Kurse where to go.

MOBIUS

And then, you tried tricking the dark elves into finding Thor, but instead, you sent them right to Frigga.

Loki tenses when he sees Frigga fighting Malekith.

LOKI

I don't want to watch this.

He winces, trying to keep himself together, as he watches Malekith stab Frigga.

MOBIUS

Well, you're going to watch it. Because that's your life, that's the consequences of your actions, and that is the proper flow of time! Now, why don't you tell me, do you enjoy hurting people?

LOKI

I don't have to play your games-

MOBIUS

Do you enjoy killing?

LOKI

I'll kill you.

MOBIUS

What, like you did your mother?

Enraged, Loki tosses a chair at him. Mobius dodges it, and it flies through the hologram of Frigga's dead body. Loki lunges at Mobius, but he uses the time twister to send him back on the ground. Loki growls in pain.

MOBIUS

Sorry, the time twister just loops you, not the furniture. You weren't born to be king, Loki. You were born to cause pain and suffering and death. That's how it is, that's how it was, and that's how it always will be. All so that others can achieve their best versions of themselves.

LOKI

(Voice cracking)

That's not true. You're lying.

MOBIUS

It is true. Your life ended after Thanos snapped your neck, because you fulfilled your purpose of assembling the Avengers to destroy you. Your purpose was never to become a hero. You're a villain, and that will never change as long as the sacred timeline runs its course.

INT. TIME THEATER - DAY

After Loki escapes and returns to the time theater on his own, he finds a folder of papers on the table. He opens it and reads the first file. It reads "LOKI ODINSON - MAIN OBJECTIVES: MURDER, LIE, MANIPULATE. LIFE PURPOSE: CATALYST FOR THE AVENGERS. OBJECTIVE FULFILLED. LIFE TERMINATED. END OF FILE.

Horrified, Loki stares at the file as tears run down his face. After a moment, he starts laughing as Hunter B-15 enters.

HUNTER B-15

Something funny?

After a pause, Loki shakes his head.

LOKI

Glorious purpose...

INT. TIME THEATER - DAY

Loki is talking with Mobius after being apprehended again.

LOKI

I will admit, the TVA is... formidable. Even an infinity stone is useless here.

(Beat)

You're not going to let me return to my own timeline, are you?

(Beat)

MOBIUS

Normally, no, we wouldn't. But... if you help us... maybe the timekeepers might be willing to make an exception. A rogue variant's been killing our minutemen.

LOKI

And you need the god of mischief to help you stop him?

MOBIUS

That's right.

LOKI

Why me?

MOBIUS

The variant we're hunting is... you.

Have some actual Lady Loki yay! 

So yeah, the purpose of this episode was mainly to re-establish the show within the continuity of my version of Endgame. Squirrel Girl comes in next episode!

@drawntothedarkside Here’s your tag!

#loki #loki series #loki series rewrite #loki series rewrite project #squirrel girl #loki series but with squirrel girl #doreen green #mobius m mobius #lady loki #hunter b 15 #ravonna renslayer #thor #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon #drax #nebula mcu #peter quill #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #disney plus #tva

[metanoiamorii]

❛Peace through Power; Faith through Fire.❜

♧ Title: War of Wrath [WoW]

♧ Status: Brainstorming and Drafting

♧ Point of View: Third Person

♧ Genre: Fantasy, Action, Drama, Epic

♧ Warnings: Violence, War, Death, Nudity, Racism, Past Abuse, Generational Healing, Generational Trauma, Vengeance, Genocide, Colonialism, ethics vs morals, history erasure, history repeats itself, humans are the bad guys really.

♧ Featuring: Dragons, Dragons in themselves deserve recognition; found family, diverse LGBTQ+ characters, complex and complicated characters, fantasy religions, plenty of symbolism, complex world building, ethics vs morals, a whole lot of moral grey can be fit into this bad boy, there is some enemies to friends to lovers going on, and some enemies to friends to family too.

♧ Setting: there will be encompass of territories and areas explored. Few inspirations are Mongolia, The Incan Empire, Viking Scandinavia, Ancient Greece.

♧ Synopsis:

In Gri'lian, the gods have vanished and the mortals overstep their boundaries.

Long have been the years of war between human and dragekind. Humans kill the dragons for territory and control; the drage kill the humans in self defense. As time goes on, history proves the humans will not stop. They revel in the war they have instigated, they thrive on the power and authority they have taken by force.

It has been proven the gods have abandoned their creation, they are nowhere to be found. If they will not stop the humans... who will? Who will place the world back into natural balance?

What happens when a single dragon decides enough is enough? He makes the call, if the gods will not intervene, new gods need to be bore. He alone begins a collection of misfits, the most qualified to end the terror of humans and reinstate the drages; those he can trust to bring a new era.

They make their peace and take on their new role. They carve into their skin their sacred oath and adorn themself in the paint of their ancestors. Together, they go to war against the human. They go to war and fight like no one has before. They turn the tides of war and make a name for themself.

They have won every battle, but the war isn't won.

The only way to win the war, they come to realize in time, is not through violence, but through peace. By living in harmony with the human, not in war. They have to learn to live with the humans, to share the world and their lives with one another.

♧ Tease:

Faith through fire, peace through power; our souls bear written this vernacular. Our intentions we laid bare, yet all still cower in fear. To absent gods you make your prayers.... when we answer, you acclaim we give scare? If the help you wish to shun, why should we give chance upon chance to you anymore?

We fight for family, for it is our duty and sacred honor; with blood and fire, we will show you the price of war.

A battle you wished for, know a war you shall now pay for. The natural order we shall restore. Know, although bound to be ignore, our actions are only sincere. This war, by your hand, was it made so severe... For pride, a glut of greed, you were made a whore. Nay, your life we will not spare.

Why?

Why of your lives will we not spare?

Perhaps reminder is require.

The waters have turned red, from the blood we have bled. Of you, we pled, yet our mothers and fathers and our brothers and our sisters you behead. Of daughters and sons you have killed.

Your acts you dare to justify, lacking a shred of dignity?!

You have denied us as your friend, with caution you should have tread... for now? You are dead.

A warning:

They say, the red sun marks death, signal bloodshed beneath the light of its brothers and sisters in the passing darkness... know, for you it is coming.

♧ Excerpt:

"... Father." With only respect, Svihar greeted.

Violkoa shifted his hold onto his fan, blowing a light gust with it. "Svihar." He greets back, in a tone less than kind. "You are a rare one to come, what is it?"

It was no lie. He paid more respect to Kallai, sharing in her beliefs. But still... Here he was, kneeling before his father. "I seek your blessings, Father."

That scowl so neatly woven upon Violkoa's features nearly lightened. Bemused. He cocked an eyebrow and closed his fan. "What do you seek blessings for?"

"An honour battle." Svihar drew his head forward, daring his eyes from the floor to meet Violkoa's.

Now that scowl faltered, the rare smirk pulled onto that stoic and weathered face. "An honour battle?" Violkoa's repeated. "With whom?"

"Whomever I desire." It is a bite, with fangs drawn. Realizing his mistake, Svihar lowers his head and draws in a breath through his nose. "All that have broken their oaths to you, those that cannot adhere to order, the ones who know no law..."

Violkoa unfurled his fan. He shifts the arm he holds around himself and stands, fanning himself.

Silence.

Svihar keeps his head low, awaiting a response. He knows better than to raise his head and tempt a response. He waits. He waits.

He waits until the fan snaps shut in harshness, a gust of wind sent through the chambers. The fan disappears into Violkoa's sleeve as his arm raises, he plucks the center spine from the bun he wears and strides forward. He does not drop to his knees, but he lowers himself so he may spin his son's hair into a similar bun and tuck the spine into it.

To his feet, Violkoa rises. He turns upon his heels, his quilled tail dragging behind him as he disappears back into the temple. He gives a simple command, as Svihar rises to his feet, only when Violkoa no longer is in sight: "Go to war, My Son."

♧ Characters:

— The Lovers

Kaithrine Eve Flora; The First Dragonlord

Female • She/Her • Human • Pansexual • Demiromantic

The young woman that rules Virta'Niliq. Ruler from a young age, Kaithrine has matured faster than she should have. She understands the way of the world more than the adults around her do. As she ages, she meets her future husband, and she becomes the heroine of a story as old as time when she joins forces with the league of dragons that plague the humans. She leads by example and creates history as its known.

Eoin'fynil Sirenheart; The Blood Taint

Amab • Agender • He/They • Water Dragon • Pansexual • Demiromantic

A man with a legacy to uphold: his grandmother is the refined ruler of a sea with a ruthless reputation, his father is an enigma with a merciless reputation.... Eoin'fynil is a nomad, trying to put a distance with his family to raise his son. He puts distance with his family, but he can't outrun a young girl with high ambitions, and his role in history.

— The Order

Svihar Hopebringer; The Father of the Order

Intersex • Genderqueer • He/They • Rainbow Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

The drage who has brought on a revolution. Although he carries a ruthless reputation to his name, demonized by the humans, he's a very compassionate man. He cares immensely and expresses deeply. He's faithful till the end to his kindred and protective of the family he has created.

Ryltar Flametongue; The Cinder King

Transmasc • Agender • He/They • Fire Dragon • Grey-Asexual • Demi-Homoromantic

The one Svihar trusts the must, and the drage all know stand as his favorite child. He's a drage without compassion that will raze everything before his eyes to ashes, if it means winning the war. He is one the humans fear, as they know he has no mercy to give to them for their crimes.

Dyiare Seawraith; The Wraith of the Sea

Transfem • She/Her • Water Drage • Grey-Asexual • Demi-Homoromantic

The grandmother of Eoin'fynil, known as one of the Sages of the Sea. She's a woman that doesn't smile, her mind fixed only on her responsibilities. She's serious and stern, she has no room to relax and laugh.

Syvtnr Venomtongue; The Enchantress of Reckoning

Afab • Nonbinary • She/They • Nature Dragon • Polyamorous Pansexual • Aromatic

A drage known to masquerade as a human. Famed for her beauty, she is a seductress who uses that weapon to bring humans to their knees. Apathetic, she does not regret using her tacts of manipulation to secure victory for her kindred. And yet, it's her price to bear few see beyond her beauty, she's not seen as a individual, but often only as a tool.

Ayros Golden-Father; The Heart of the Order

Amab • Agender • He/They • Light Dragon • Polyamorous Pansexual • Polyamorous Demiromantic

The trusted advisor, the one Svihar will most frequently turn to when he needs the truth, or advice. A quiet man, Ayros will keep to himself and not offer his unsolicited advice. He will most frequently stand back and observe; he will make himself known, his authority acknowledged, when necessary.

My'fel Frigidbane; The White Shadow

Amab • Demiboy • He/They • Snow Dragon • Bisexual • Aromantic

Simple-minded compared to the rest, My'fel is a drage with a one-track mind. He cares for his basic needs: food, sleep, reproduction, and the art of hunting. He's ill-tempered and reclusive, he doesn't care for companionship, and nothing seems to be able to make him change his ways.

Nyhmar Bronze-Heart; The Righteousheart

Afab • Nonbinary • They/Them • Earth Dragon • Demisexual • Demiromantic

Viewed as Benevolent, Nyhmar is anything as. Perhaps the most bloodthirsty of their family, they have earned a reputation for being amicable and approachable. History forgets how they reigned as a warlord before they joined Svihar, and they demand the blood of all humans, deeming no one innocent of their ancestors' crimes.

Rauor Savage-Heart; The Heartless Beast

Amab • Agender • They/He • Fang Dragon • Pansexual • Aromantic

The youngest of the family and it shows. He follows closely in the footsteps of his more heartless siblings, particularly My'fel. Known for his sadistic streak and apathetic nature, Rauor is an individual that never quite learned that you don't play with your food.

Za-Ylviar Nightstalker; The Eternal Nightmare

Afab • Agender • They/Them • Energy Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

The most revered of their family by the humans. They favor the terror Rauor instills, the flavor of death Ryltar enjoys, and the dread Zivaryz embodies. They are brutal, erratic, dangerous. No one believes they are capable of compassion and thread with caution when their name is evoked.

Clyte Starforger; He Who Lights The Way

Male • He/Him • Star Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

Compared to his siblings, Clyte is harmless. He's not violent, nor does he care for blood. He enjoys mischief, causing problems and reveling in watching others trip over their own feet. He's a trickster, to put it plain.

Zivaryz Endbringer; He Who Will Destroy The World

Intersex • Agender • They/He • Bone Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

Viewed as an object, a weapon, Zivaryz is not viewed as a living and breathing individual. Although a dragon, both human and dragekind will vy to possess the weapon that is Zivaryz. Known to destory everything they touch, they will wither and drain the life of all things they can. A valuable weapon to have in a war.

L'ymra Spiritwalker; They Who Know All

Afab • Genderfluid • They/She/He • Spirit Dragon • Asexual • Aromantic

Perhaps the most soft of their family, L'myra is not a fighter, they do not care for blood and war. They desire peace, harmony. They wish to see the land heal, and the mistakes and crimes of the past be acknowledged. There is a long way to recovery, but they are adamant it will happen one day.

Blym Serenescales; The Guardian Beneath the Skies

Intersex • Genderqueer • They/Them • Air Dragon • Demisexual • Demiromantic

The most akin to their father, Blym puts family and responsibilities before all else. They hold the goals Svihar has set out for them. They aspire to be honorable and never be swayed, no matter the trouble they face for keeping a positive outlook on life.

♧ Taglists:

WOW: @lend-your-lungs-to-me, @wannabeauthorzofija, @northernrosewritings, @shadeshadow234, @necros-writings, @rhikasa

GENERAL: @endlesshourglass, @writerray, @poore-choice-of-words, @primusesgiantmetalballbearings

BOTH: @notugalan, @cecilsstorycorner, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @hazard-writes, @aligned-stars-writing

#Wip intro #Wip introduction #Dragons #My writing #fantasy writer #Fantasy #Wip: WoW #Wip: War of Wrath #Have some found family #Have some dragons #Have some everything #This is a giant wip let me tell you #I can't begin to tell you if I start it with Svihar founding the Order; or if I start where Kaithrine becomes relevant #All we know is it's a big excuse to write so many dragons #Because we love dragons #Who doesn't love dragons? #Fucking weirdos #That's who. #in the midst of chaos there is queue #Morri's collection

[roses-ruby]

sinner;

Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre: Cop AU, An onslaught of Angst, Thriller, Mature

Warnings: Obsessive/Possessive behavior, Toxic relationships, Yandere, Stalking, Emotional and Physical abuse, MiSoGYny, Violence, Bad parents, Bad cops, Kidnapping

Word Count: 11,000

Summary: No matter where you run, the past will find you.

The dark clouds approached along the light blue fabric of the sky.

You watched them from your car window, dreading the downpour you’d have to drive home through tonight. With a sigh, you open the door and step out of your 2012 Hyundai Accent, planting your soles firmly onto the cemented parking lot. Your rustic car shakes with the loss of weight and the door creaks at the hinges once you slam it shut.

Somehow the old you had managed to entertain yourself with the thought that receiving a promotion would ultimately be able to afford you a better car, but no – you were stuck with the same failing engine, same worn out tires, same chipped paint aside the right headlight and occasional oil leaks.

Old you was a fool, you think, placing your hands in your coat pocket and walking towards the station in a swift, rigid pace. The air was chilly, and the strong breeze hit your face in unpleasant streaks. You kept your head down, arms clinging to the sides of your body to warm you up. There were barely any people outside the station, just a couple of men in blue quickly ensuring victims or witnesses. Years on the force had given you the eye to spot the differences between your average citizen and a perp with ease.

Perps always had an emptiness in their gaze. A vacant spot that erased their crime from their own mind. Defense mechanism they call it. You weren’t a stranger to that emotion yourself.

With no time to waste, you rush up the steps. As you pull the door of the station open, your ears are immediately filled with chatter, paper clatter and ringing phones. More importantly your body is filled with warmth. Like it was memorized in your head, you sift through the desks and file cabinets with ease, trudging past several rushing bodies on your way to a hallway down the right. Reaching the end of the corridor, you see the four men you were expecting through the clear glass window in front of their room. They were laughing at something one of them had said, a laughter that came to a full stop the moment you burst into the chief’s office.

All eyes were on you.

“There you are, detective! Right on time.” The chief, a charismatically aged character, calls out your last name as he leans back in his creaky leather chair.

“Not like she has anything better to do…” Hyun, the Sergeant’s younger partner, remarks underneath his breath.

“It’s my day off chief…this better be good.”

“Why? Did you have a date?” You catch Hyun’s sarcastic eyes before he bursts into a fit of laughter at your unamused face.

“Like you ever get laid.” Jimin scoffs at him with a raised eyebrow from the opposite side of the room.

“Motherfucker I got laid last night!” Hyun shouts like that was the funniest thing he’s said while Jimin holds back his growing smile.

“Yeah? Your asshole still hurt?” Sarge slams Hyun in the back as they all break out into mutual cackles. Hyun fights back by pushing his older partner into a cabinet while making derogatory remarks.

You try not to scowl at the suffocating testosterone in the air as you watch the boys play around.

“All right, all right, quiet down.”  The chief shouts, rubbing his forehead wrinkles with his fingers and looking back at you like he suddenly remembered you exist. “___- uh…we got a little situation for you.”

He reaches to the left of his desk and picks up a file before throwing it up ahead on the table. There was a sudden coating of thick silence around the room as your eyes roam from the detectives scrutinizing you, back to the thick manilla folder thrown out in front of you. You carefully walk up to where the file laid, picking it up and examining the name on the small name card clipped at the top left.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

You question in surprise. Your orbs fly from the chief’s empty face to the white name card.

“How much do you know about Jeon?” The chief asks slowly. You recognize that tone of voice. That tone you’ve witnessed multiple times in interrogation with a suspect. The aura in the room felt strange.

You drop the file to your side so you can look the chief right in the eyes.

“What do you mean? I know that he’s the most accomplished assassin-for-hire to this date. I know that he has his dirty hands everywhere across the East. I know that he’s responsible for Asia’s most influential triad trade. I know that he’s taken down too many of our own and I know he should be jammed into a cage for the rest of his life, chief.”

The chief exhaled, some tension leaving his facial features as he leans further back in his chair and shuts his eyes. You studied the man in pity. Was this how you were bound to end up in a few years? Bald, stressed, only black coffee in your system, suspicious of everyone and everything with a failing marriage and kids who won’t speak to you?

Half of that was actually how you lived like right now.

“I’m sorry, ___. You know how many rumors there are of officers under Jeon’s thumb. Patrollers, lieutenants, even agents…they are all chummy with that bastard. I can’t help but be careful.”

“What do you mean? What does this have to do with me, chief?” You furrowed your eyebrows, still not understanding what was happening or why you were called in on your day off for an ‘urgent’ matter.

“We caught him.” Sarge interjects, “Tip came in this morning about a deal in the abandoned mill off the northwest. He surrendered as soon as we showed up, no casualties.”

You couldn’t stop your mouth from dropping. Did you hear that correctly? Jeon Jungkook, who had been on the world’s most wanted list for 6 years now just happened to be caught in your city, at the abandoned mill in the middle of the day? It was hard to believe but Sarge didn’t seem like he was joking.

“T-that’s great…w- is he in custody right now? Here?”

“He is. But we have a problem though…” You look back at the chief who was staring right at you. “He won’t talk.”

“I mean we expected that, right? He did the same thing in Hong Kong. Wha- is...is he pleading the fifth or-”

“That’s the thing, he surrendered but didn’t make any attempts to cooperate, he’s just been sitting stationary on his ass for 3 hours. The deputy had to phone it in as soon as he got here, so Kane’s bound to show up at any minute. They’ll take him away to some fucking facility and we’ll just have to stick out our tongues and wag our tails while the big boys do the real work. Damn! We couldn’t find jack shit when raiding the fucking mill!” The chief rambled, still massaging his forehead like he had a headache. “And that deadly weapon expert? All he had on him was an old handkerchief.”

He snorted but there was no amusement in his voice. But suddenly his vigor died down and his eyes stared off into the distance.

“…There’s only one thing he said the entire time he’s been in that interrogation room.”

“…What did he say?” You ask carefully, noticing the way everyone present was glaring holes into you.

“He said he’ll only speak to you.” The chief leans towards you, placing his elbows on his desk with his eyes slightly squinting and an unspoken question on his lips.

Suddenly the room turns cold and you feel like you were outside in that freezing chill once again. Your mind runs a mile a minute and your skin breaks out into goosebumps. It all makes sense just then. The threatening atmosphere, the stare downs, the discerning. They all had one question staining their mind. Why would the world’s most powerful hitman and black arms dealer want to talk to some random low-grade rookie detective?  

Hell, you didn’t know yourself.

“Me? Why would he want to speak to me?”

“He said he knows you.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing. That was ridiculous. If you met someone like Jeon Jungkook before, you would remember it…wouldn’t you?

“Chief, I’m telling you, I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Then how could he know your full name?” Hyun interrupts

You glare at him from your position in the middle of the room. “How am I supposed to know dumbass?”

He smirks, his disgusting gaze sharpening. “Maybe he just knows how to sniff out the cunts.”

“Watch your fucking mouth Hyun.” Jimin steps between you both in a flash. He was facing away from you, but you could tell he was pissed by how he clenched his fists. Hyun scoffs, the corner of his lips picking up.

“I sniff two.”

It all happens in the blink of an eye. Jimin tries to leap at him but you barely manage to hold your partner back by the shoulder. Smart mouth also gets up from where he was leaning before Sarge rushes up to the younger. They both glare at each other like they were ready to kill while you grimace looking at each of their loaded holsters. The fact that these men were allowed to open carry was the most terrifying part.

“Enough!” The chief shouts, standing from his desk, “Hyun learn how to shut your yap hole for once, and Park, I need you to back off. There’s already a lot of tension in this room cause of Jeon…let’s handle that motherfucker first, officers.”

He warns Jimin to which you hold him tighter, whispering at him to let it go. Eventually the blonde simmers down – they both do, and you watch the way the chief exhales defeatedly.

“___, is there any reason at all- anything you can think of- and really think now, all the way back to before you transferred here- as to why Jeon Jungkook would want to speak to you? Why he would say he knows you?”

“None, chief.” You state calmly. There was nothing to think about, you didn’t know him.

The man stares at you for a moment before nodding. “Alright then, officer. I’ll need you in that interrogation room immediately. Maybe you can find an answer to this whole mess of a situation.”

“What the hell chief?” Hyun immediately complains, “I brought him in! I should be the one questioning him! You can’t just do that to me-” He growls, stepping up to the boss’ desk.

“Shut it!” Sergeant smacks the back of his big head while you breathe through your nose to keep calm.

Hyun always made his dislike for you obvious. It was difficult to pinpoint the exact reason he hated you because there were one too many. You were a stickler for rules and tradition, a woman (more specifically a woman who has made more arrests than him), and not the type to try and fit in. He hated how you didn’t fall in line and mostly kept to yourself – private and introverted. Whatever, you didn’t give a fuck about what he thought of you. Although you were used to Hyun’s moronic nature, it was still rarely this chaotic and tense in your station. Everyone seemed to be at one another’s neck. The most thrill you all had was capturing a local drug dealer a few years back.

But then again, Jeon Jungkook was far from your average criminal.

“You were in there for 2 and a half fucking hours with the captain himself, Hyun. What did you get out of it?” Chief groans

“I-I just need a little more time, just a li-”

“Time we don’t have!” The older man yells at the top of his lungs. “I know you’re the one who cuffed him and I’m real happy for that 20 second thrill you got but you can’t just get your panties in a twist when things don’t go your way. ___ here is just as capable of an officer as you. If she can get him to talk and we can gain some info on him and his little gang before those FBI pigs show up – just think of what that could mean for the team…”

Hyun scowled at the elder for a minute before contemplating on what was just said. Pursing his lips, he took a step back with a face that screamed defeat. “Yes, chief.” He mumbles.

“Good. Now ___,” The attention was once again placed on you. “We don’t have much time. Get out there and find out what that son of a bitch is thinking.”

“Yes, chief.”

“But listen, this man knows your name meaning it’s safe to say he knows your identity. He’s smart and he’s dangerous. Don’t get caught in any of his traps. We’ll be listening from the other side of the wall so if you feel like something’s off, signal us at any time, alright?”

His order had all the men in the room frowning for different reasons. Jimin had on his usual concerned face and even Sarge seemed worried. The thought of any stranger knowing your identity terrified you. But these were the last people on earth you would tell that to. You paid their disturbed expressions no mind as you nodded in determination, pulling your posture straight and holding your head up high.  

“Yes, chief.”

_

You clench the file towards your chest.

There was an unsettling feeling you felt standing outside the door of interrogation room 4. Same one you had felt the first time you became a detective and were ordered to interrogate some big burly guy who had slashed his ex-girlfriend’s tires. Even though you thought you had left your past behind, here it was, surrounding you in an uncomfortable heat. This wasn’t just some petty thief who robbed a local convenience store or some middle-aged man who tried to choke his wife to death.

No. This was much, much bigger than that.

Jeon Jungkook, also known as JJK was a notorious hitman with several successful operations carried out around the world. In Washington, Libya, Hong Kong, Brazil and even Rome. He made the most wanted list when he was only 19 and was infamous for getting the job done. None of the men in his list survived…ever. Not only was he a perfectionist in his handiwork but also knew how to deal with the preparation.

A master of weapons; he could operate a H&K P7 in his sleep and take down 10 operatives with a single combat knife. His knowledge of artillery made him a big deal amongst the triads so setting up a little side business as a black arms dealer was a walk in the park for him. He was strong, fast, smart and feared. Not even the finest could catch him and at times months would go on by without a sighting.

Yet suddenly…he was just behind this door.

And who did he desperately want to see?

You.

By name.

Of all people.

Now you consider yourself a logical person. Someone guided by intellect before anything else. You did the math, worked on the equation, pondered on the systematics but nothing clicked. Nothing. There was absolutely no reason for someone like him to want to meet you but then again, the whole situation was the strangest fucking thing you’ve seen.

Surrendering at an abandoned mill in your jurisdiction would be the last place you’d think Jeon Jungkook would be captured. In your mind, his destiny was meant to end on a grander scale at the edge of the world. Some Hollywood theatrical-like bullshit where they would have him cornered on some rooftop with multiple choppers and snipers ready to take him down. This however – the threatening but anticlimactic atmosphere… it didn’t make any sense. Not for someone as careful and calculated as Jungkook.

For some reason, it just felt like he was waiting on something…something big to happen. A sensation of doom coursed throughout your body. Everything about today felt wrong. Like you and your colleagues were caught right in his talons.

By far, the most bizarre part about the situation was how he knew your name and you. You’ve always kept such a lowkey profile, it just didn’t make any sense.

“___?” The sound of your name startles you and you whip towards your side to see your partner dressed in his usual face of worry. “You alright?”

“…I’m good.” You choke out, trying to sound as lucid as possible.

It doesn’t seem to convince him however as he tilts his head and frowns at you.

“Listen, if you don’t want to talk to him, you don’t have to. Chief shouldn’t have pushed you into this bullshit – why do we even have to listen to what a criminal wants anyway? I-”

“Jimin, calm down. I’m fine.”

“Bu-”

“Your mollycoddling doesn’t help as much as you think it does, Park.”

Your words seem to have surprised him, his stubborn expression morphing into denial.

“That’s…I didn’t mean…”

You shut your tired eyes, feeling bad about the way you spoke to your only friend at the station. This is exactly why everyone thought you were way too rigid and unapproachable. Jimin however was too much of a nice guy, always going out of his way to make friendly with you. It always made you wonder – why would a well-liked, popular and talented guy such as Jimin want to hang around you or even ask the chief to be your partner? Maybe it was pity he felt for you.

That feeling was not something you desired. It left a nauseous impression down your throat. All you wanted was to do your job the best you could, go home, take your pills and sleep your days away. You didn’t want anyone’s kindness or company, you just wanted it to be over. Park Jimin’s sincerity was a hindrance.

“I’m sorry it’s just…I’m real tired of getting treated like this. I get it, I’m a woman and somehow that means I’m a less than, a cause for concern or just a fucking HR liability. I fucking get it without every single one of you reminding me every damn day.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, ___.” Jimin stares at you apologetically

“Then please, Jimin. Let me do my job.” You hold his stare until he eventually sighs, giving you a nod and retreating.

Once he walks away, you let out a shaky exhale, reaching towards the door handle with trembling fingers. Get it together, you whisper to yourself. After all the tough talk, the truth was you weren’t ready. You were scared shitless. Maybe Hyun was right about you.

Maybe your father was.

Drowning out every negative thought, you turn the door handle and push the door open.

_

You were immediately greeted by the usual silent man on the interrogation chair. His dark orbs were soundlessly watching the wall ahead of him. When you step into the room, he turns his head to look at you. Once he notices you, he instantly breaks out into a smirk. Clenching your file harder, you physically stop yourself from shivering.

You had seen him before, in blurry internet sightings and news coverages. But never up close and personal…and never smiling. It was like you entered a whole different world; the room you were pretty familiar with felt like a surreal fantasy. He was drop dead gorgeous. Lethal, you could say. His face was round, and features were sharp. A prominent nose, pink lips, sharp jaw and intense, smoldering eyes. Midnight black hair shyly covered his temple as he sat upright and confident in his chair.

He was dressed rather casually – a dark blue denim jacket that molded around his muscles and black top that covered his long neck. Tight fitted black pants that were ripped at the knees, displaying his thick, strong thighs and the heaviest leather boots you’ve ever seen. His hands were cuffed to the table so everyone can see them at all times. All he did was sit still but somehow commanded your whole attention. You gulped involuntarily at the sight before you.

You’ve never seen a man more comfortable in his own skin.

When he notices you ogling, he raises a brow in amusement. It alarms you, your eyes shooting to the large mirror on the other side of the wall. They were probably watching you…waiting for you to mess up.

Not wanting to throw them anymore bones, you clear your throat. Walking in and sitting down opposite to Jungkook. You don’t give him the time of day, pretend not to notice his bottomless orbs following your every move as you flip the file open a couple pages. As you continue to ignore him, you swear you could hear him tsk under his breath.

“So… Jeon Jungkook. Aged 23. Professional hitman. Side arms dealer. Wanted by the CIA, FSB, NSA and the Navy seals. Says here you’ve pissed off a lot of people, Jungkook.”

This was routine. The lighthearted police tone you always used. Very rarely would officers come off strongly when interrogating perps unless they were fucking morons. It was better if everyone just cooperated like this was an elementary school’s playground and none of the children got violent. Perps had to feel comfortable enough to spill it all. Being approachable, calm and levelheaded was normal for an efficient detective.

It was normal.

But it didn’t feel normal. You found yourself cringing at your voice, at the way you spoke. Your words felt so out of place and awkward. For some reason, you were hyper aware of everything you were doing. Maybe it was because you were under Jungkook’s extremely scrutinizing gaze or maybe because you knew Hyun was probably sounding out some sarcastic remarks about your abilities behind that mirror. Whatever it was, you didn’t feel good. Yet you continued on like everything was fine.

“You’ve been quite the busy boy, haven’t you?” You continue on, flipping through the file and swallowing the uneasiness.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, doll.”

His pet name for you stops you in your tracks. In the middle of turning a page that hung in midair. Slowly, you look up at him from beneath your lashes and he has on that same damn smirk. Stress-free posture and concentrated gaze. Looks like he was comfortable.

“…Really? Mind telling me about it?”

He continues to stare at you for a moment before letting out a humorous sigh. Jungkook leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and rolling his tongue in his cheek.

“What would you like to know?”

“Whatever you have for me.” You reply back, leaning in and using in the same low tone he used. Mirroring the suspect, playing the game. No matter how shaken you were, you knew how to do your job.

Another smirk appears on his face before he props back on his chair.

“Mhmm, I don’t know how much I can tell you doll. We all have secrets you see, we all got someone to fool. Like you right now.”

As his words settle in, you become confused. And by the way he chuckles, you know he can see it.

“That face you have on, that cute look of determination. Flipping through those pages like you’re learning something new about me. Something that I myself might not know. Like you didn’t already memorize it front to back, way before you came in here...those eyes that are desperately trying to win us over…like you have so much to prove still.”

You were thrown off. The way he unflinchingly delivered his speech in the most persuasive way. There was a certain way you had expected this to go in your mind, a certain power your brain gave you over him but now you realize all your thoughts were dust. In reality, you couldn’t comprehend what the fuck he was going on about which gave him the upper hand.

Thus, you looked into his eyes for an answer. Genuine eyes that shone as clear as day. It made you realize that he had nothing to hide. There was nothing he was trying to erase.

It left you speechless.

Your face must have been very obvious because next thing you knew, he was answering the question that lingered your thoughts.

“Your uncertainty gives you away. I guess it’d be present in anyone who’s constantly been made to feel inferior. All your life, you’ve had to go above and beyond to be considered half as good as your colleagues with dicks. No matter how much pain and humiliation you’ve endured, everyone expects more from you. It would drive anyone mad.” He moves in further, practically whispering at this point. “It could make anyone commit sinful acts.”

“…sinful?”

“My mother used to tell me about them,” He relaxes back in his chair, “…before she left that is. She was big on religion so she’d tell me all about these people who did bad deeds- sinner, she would call them. She’d go on and on about how they look and how they act. How they don’t have a place in this world amongst the good, non-sinners. We’d know exactly how to identify them, wouldn’t we doll?”

In the bright center of interrogation room 4, your pools were glued on the stranger that knew too much but let on too little. Jungkook was the one in cuffs, but you were the one who was starting to feel trapped.

“You don’t know me. We’re not the same.” You said out loud.

He turns silent for a moment, before grinning. “I think we’re more alike than you are aware of, detective.”

“Don’t fall for any of his traps.”

“W-” You swallow, “We’re not here to talk about me…”

You tried sounding as rational and self-assured as before, but your voice was barely above a murmur. And after you spoke, he smiled. His smile was way too innocent compared to who you knew he was.

“So, you want to know about me?” He chuckled “What do you want to know?

This was your chance, you thought, surprised at how easily he seemed to be ready to change the subject matter. You began flipping through the folder nonchalantly again, trying to get back on track.

“How about you start at the mill. Who were you meeting with so early in the day, Jungkook?”

Suddenly, his eyes darken and the look on his face becomes sinister, but that smile never falls. You couldn’t help but shift in your seat at his unexpected gaze.

“If you really want to know about everything that led up to this morning…then we’d have to look back quite a bit. Maybe back years ago…to a kid whose mother was never around and whose father beat the living shit out of him twice a day.”

He throws his head back and breaks out into a laugh at your unimpressed face. You were all ears but the last thing you wanted to do was spend an uncomfortable hour or two in here. The man creeped you out, so if he could just hurry up and get on with it, maybe you could go finish your nap and forget about today.

“Okay, okay, hah,” He sits back up straight, trying to conceal his laughter, “We don’t have to go that far back, but yeah this kid had it hard. But he was never one of those cucks. As he grew older, he couldn’t just sit there and take it. No…it wasn’t like that for him…he had to fight back, and he did fight for what he could, no matter what it took. He-”

_

“Open this fucking door you little freak!”

The door’s pounding shook the whole room. His anxiety was through the roof as he watched the weak wood quiver each time the monster banged against it. It could break at any moment now and he was afraid. He always, always acted tough. Always fought back the best he could. But the truth was that he was just a skinny teenaged brat.

He didn’t want to fight. He wasn’t built for it.

“Fuck off!” The kid tried to sound as menacing as possible, but it came out a pathetic whimper and only seemed to anger the man on the other side of the locked door even further.

It was hilarious really; the kid couldn’t help but leak tears. He hadn’t eaten in days, it was his 4th beating of the week – he felt lightheaded and his body was on fire. All he wanted in that moment as he clenched his fists over his ears inside the dark bathroom was for the door to stay strong. For anyone to help him.

But as the lock broke and the wood let out a heinous whine and he was hit with sudden light and a large shadow, he realized circumstances do not work in your favor when you stand there and do nothing. And the moment he understood that, was the moment his life was about to drastically change. More accurately, the very next week.

When you entered his life.

“So- Jeon Jungkook, age 16, failing high school student…written up 4 times, visited juvie twice. Now, tell me why you beat up that kid, Jeon?” You stood up straight, writing away mindlessly in your small notebook.

The kid did nothing but stare at you through his bruised eye and busted lip, while he sat on the edge of your desk. It wasn’t his first time dealing with the cops and something inside him always knew it wouldn’t be his last. When you didn’t hear his answer, you huffed, looking up at him from the pages between your fingers.

“Well? I don’t have all night you know. I could just lock you in.”

He smirked. It was easy to tell you were new, he noticed as soon as you walked in and were told to book him by the guy who arrested him. Your uniform had been pressed with great care, not one hair was out of place and your badge was polished and perfectly positioned. It felt like you just came out of one of those corny films about the ‘good’ cops; fighting crime for justice and truth. The kid was even younger than he was at that moment when he realized just how full of bullshit that trope was.

One glance around the room, at the other pigs in uniform and he knew you had just gotten the job. That your spirits hadn’t been crushed unlike these soulless bodies wandering the station’s premises.

That was the best quality about the kid, he had always been observant. A lot more than his peers or even the adults in his life. He could tell a great deal about you at one glance. You seemed jittery and nervous, trying to write as neatly as possible. It felt like you were trying to get someone’s attention – a high ranking older officer, who you kept observing from the corner of your eye. As the kid watched that man chortle with his equally dull colleagues, he thought there was a resemblance in you both, but that there also wasn’t.

“Then why don’t you?” The kid replied a bit too sarcastically, wanting this to be over with as quickly as possible so maybe he could get some sleep for the first time in 3 days. It would do him a lot of good actually, being away from that house for a little while. Subtly, he was pleading.

“Look kid,” You grimaced, “I know that guy you beat up, he’s a racist little shit. He probably did something to you, I’m sure or you wouldn’t carry so many self-defense wounds along your hands. There might be some way I could help you; I want to help you. But only if you tell me what really happened, alright?”

It was silent just then. He was silent.

“I want to help you.”

He was expecting you to reprimand him for his smart mouth and then lock him up. That’s what anyone who took one glance at his file did. It was filled with crap about him, shit that they peered their nose over because they were so much better than him. The kid never trusted adults; they never did anything for him. He was the child that everyone discriminated against to remind themselves how lucky they were. At least my child’s not like that, is what they all thought. No one cared about his side of the story. No one but…you.

Your answer was something that caught him off guard for the first time in years.

“Why do you want to help me? I’m a criminal.”

“Oh yeah, you got a record,” You reply casually, flipping through your notes, “I glanced over it, it’s all for stealing food.”

Suddenly you became quiet. Taking a step back, you begin to study him up and down from where he sat.

“Is… is your dad not feeding you?”

Your gaze shifted further into concern and he held his breath. He’s never seen those eyes before on anyone – never for him. Shit, his own mother never looked at him like that. Like she felt something for him. Not even when the bitch ran off with the neighbor and left him with that monster – young, weak and helpless.

Having someone worry about him made him feel strange, his whole body broke out into a quiver and his eyes watered. That kid could see himself in the reflection of your eyes that had widened dramatically at the change in his demeanor. And he tried to stop himself but for some reason, he wanted you to worry about him.

“Uh- I..wai- don’t cry-'' Flustered, you scrambled around, trying to find a tissue. You were new at the job and you weren’t used to people breaking apart yet. Everyone around you seemed so busy, hustling around the station like they didn’t see a teenage boy in the start of a mental breakdown…that or they didn’t care. Finally, you grab the handkerchief your mom had stuffed inside your uniform pocket and carefully hold it out for him.

But you drop it in a flash when you witness him get struck across the face the very next instant.

“YOU FUCKING TROUBLESOME BRAT!”

You flinched at the loud, unforgiving voice that resounded throughout the station. Everyone instantly went noiseless and it felt like the station just halted for the first time in years. All you could hear were the lingering ringing of phones.

“How many times have I warned you not to make trouble? You’re a disgrace!” The man spit into the kid’s face. He was tall, maybe 6’2, and muscular compared to the teenager but stood unevenly, favoring his left foot and walked with a limp. His face bore a scar on the cheek that was partially covered with a jungle of facial hair. His eyes seemed insane with anger and he reeked of hard liquor. You had to remind yourself that you had a taser in your holster.

Slowly, you looked back at the kid whose fringe covered his eyes. He hadn’t moved an inch since the man slapped his face. A large red handprint on his already wounded skin. It pulled at your heartstrings.

“S-sir?” You cleared your throat to which the crazy man turned his sneer towards you. But you couldn’t let that faze you. “You can’t just hit a child like that, I need you to back away.”

That was the best you could do at sounding confident, but your strength wavered as soon as the man took a step towards you.

“You trying to tell me how to raise my son, girlie?”

The scent of alcohol clouded your senses. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish. Your body started trembling, but you still tried to stand your ground until-

“Jeon!”

Another loud voice interrupts you. This time though, you recognized that voice. Your dad steps between you and the snarling man and you almost cry out of relief. You gape at both of the men in awe, staring one another down. The tension wraps around your throat and you worry for the kid behind all of this. If a brawl breaks out, he’s likely to get injured…

For a second you tried peeking back at your desk over your dad’s shoulder, until you hear sudden robust laughter in front of you.

What the fuck?

“You son of a bitch, how’ve you been?” Your father daps his hand with the terrifying man and your face morphs into confusion.

The demeanor and the whole damn atmosphere between the men changed, just like that. All the suffocating animosity had vanished in an instant as if it never existed, which left you dumbstruck and standstill.

“I’ve been good you dick. You’re a lieutenant now, I see. No wonder I haven’t seen you around the parlor much.” The guy cackles loudly, making you cringe at his rotten teeth and bad breath.

“Ahh~ You know, the old ball and chain.” Your father so kindly refers to your mother, “Heh, actually I’m a sober man now! My oldest just became an officer like her father a month ago.” He moves to your side to pat you on the shoulder. You freeze under his touch and your wide pupils flicker between him and Jeon who took a newfound interest in you.

In any other instance, you would have been ecstatic to have your father compliment you. But right now, your brain had a hard time processing everything and you kept glancing at the stoic kid.

“This one yours?” The man smirks, eyeing you up and down in a disturbing way. You almost tasered him then and there. “She’s a bit noisy, isn’t she?”

Your dad laughs louder than before while you clench your fist.

“Relax, she’s just a kid – a whole rookie. She doesn’t know how all this works yet.”

You try not to grimace at his words. Here you were hoping he would have believed in you a bit more if you received a perfect score on the academy’s exam.

As his laughter dies down, your dad looks off to the side, just behind the giant man and raises his eyebrow. “And I take it this one’s yours?”

Jeon sighs, ruffling his hair with his calloused fingers. “Sadly. The kid’s a lost cause, ___. They can’t all be like your pretty little daughter. Every damn day hurting someone, busting balls, messing with the other kids…stealing. Just…you know after his mother left…”

He becomes mute suddenly. Staring at the ground in great concentration like he just got too emotional. Funny, you saw that look in another man last week. A man who lied about not murdering his wife. You tsk under your breath and look back at the kid, almost jumping out of your skin when you catch him staring right at you from where he sat. No more vulnerability in his young eyes. They were once again making the same hardened expression you saw when he first walked in here. Something felt very off.

Your attention flies back to the taller men when you feel your father shift towards the older Jeon.

“I understand.” He states sympathetically, placing a hand on his shoulder for comfort. “Take him home…”

It took you a second to snap out of your mute state.

“But dad, he-”

“Let them go, ___. This man here,” He signals at the guy, “He used to be one of the greatest and most respected officers of his time. Spent his best years serving. It’s the least he deserves. It’s alright.”

“No that’s not- Dad!” You begin flipping through your notebook, trying to show your father your notes, “Look at the kid’s fingers and arms! His face! He looks malnourished and some of those wounds look old- and- and this man’s obviously drunk and agressi-”

“___!” Your father shouts in rage, effectively shutting you up. “This is a command from your direct superior! They’re leaving.”

“But-”

At that moment he menacingly leans in, close enough to breathe in your ear.

“Don’t embarrass me further, child.” He whispers with pure venom.

And just like that, all the fight in you leaves. Your shoulders slump and head falls to the floor. There were tiny needles poking you everywhere and your face felt hot – ashamed. His words ring inside your head like a mantra and you want to just run away and hide.

All you did was disappoint him.

Your dad apologizes for you and the next thing you hear is the man grabbing the kid by the arm and you couldn’t help but physically wince at how much pain he would be in at the moment. He staggers out of earshot and you do nothing but look at the ground. How could you possibly face the kid now? After you told him you’d help him.

Because of that you don’t notice anything. You don’t notice the fact that your handkerchief was no longer on the floor. Nor do you notice the kid’s eyes which stayed on you the whole time he was being dragged out of the building.

_

You sat there, speechless.

Jungkook tilted his head, softening his gaze at your shaken form.

“He looked at you the whole time after that. Only you…but you never noticed.”

You on the other hand couldn’t hear shit he was saying. All you could think about was that vague, really fucking vague memory you had of the moment he described. Your mind was everywhere, on your father, on his father, on that event that you ended up failing to recall somehow, at your conversation with the chief earlier.

“All he had on him was an old handkerchief.”

How does someone process this? How did you forget this? There were countless of cases you’ve dealt with before, so many unusual moments that you just began throwing them out of your head for your very own sanity. That was the truth, but would anyone believe you? Jeon Jungkook was from your old hometown. Jeon Jungkook was someone you almost booked before. Jeon Jungkook was not someone who could’ve been forgotten. You, no longer in control of your facial expression, glance over at the mirror in horror. Would the chief actually think you lied?

In the back of your mind, you knew the real reason you chose to leave all the memories of your past behind – suppress them down and drown them out. But that information wasn’t something you could reveal to anyone. Ever. The one thing you were told to do was not fall into his trap, yet here you are. Your mind was a mess, which meant there was no way you could have the advantage in this situation, and you were no longer fit to interrogate him. Desperate and anxious, you place your palm on your forehead like you were in deep thought. In reality, that was the signal. You wanted to escape this place.

Jungkook glares at the side of your face, getting angrier the more you ignore him. Today was supposed to be different, his one free day where he could finally get you to notice him. And there you sat, still not looking his way. Didn’t you know you didn’t need to worry about anyone else when he was right here?

“Doll.” He practically sneers but then simmers down and smiles when you finally turn back to him – all wide eyed.

“I wanted to thank you.” He continues, “Because that day changed me forever…”

You said nothing. Wondering why the men on the other side were taking so long. He took your silence as a chance to finish his story.

“I took my beating…took all of it and said nothing. Broke my rib and wrangled my neck but I said nothing. He was drunk, so I waited for him to tire himself out…waited till he passed out on that fucking couch. Then I strangled him…with that very piece of cloth you gave me.”

This has got to be some fucking nightmare.

“And it felt really good.” His voice slightly waivered, “To watch him turn red and struggle, to watch that bastard’s life leave his eyes while in return he saw me become his demise.” He stops rambling suddenly as if recalling where he was, “Within a span of 8 minutes…I became a criminal for killing the monster who tortured me every single day. I was a sinner. I hit rock bottom. And once you’re there, it takes a lot of blood, sweat and tears to climb back up to the top.”

As you heard him rant on, your mind started to drift off. For some reason, once you slowly start to remember that tethered kid, you felt something you haven’t felt for a while. Sympathy? Sadness? Or were you just reminiscing about who you were back then. The bright young woman who had a lot to offer the world. You shake your head, looking down at the table. That girl was dead, you chose to forget her and went along with whatever life threw at you.

Your father was right to criticize your soft heart and if he were alive today you were sure he wouldn’t be able to identify you. No longer were you that naïve child who stubbornly believed that there was good in this world – in its people. It didn’t matter to you the reasons why someone committed a crime – criminals were just labeled orange jumpsuits. Jungkook had met a completely different person back then, not you.

Then why did your chest ache this much?

“J…Jungkook…I…didn’t remember…”

“I know,” He states ensuringly, making you look back up at him, “You left your past behind, after all.”

Suddenly, all the color left your face. Your heart started beating faster and you broke out into a cold sweat. You faintly thought you heard a bang behind the mirror, but you didn’t care. For the first time since you got here, your whole attention was solely on Jungkook.

It made him so happy.

“W-what…”

“It hurt when you transferred, leaving a big hole in my already impoverished life. But I understood your reasons. How can someone stay after such an incident?”

He knows.

“H-H…How did you know…”

“Oh, I know everything about you, doll.” His sinister smirk reappeared as he relaxed back into his chair and you pursed your lips as you felt an oncoming panic attack.

He knows, he knows, he knows, he-

“I know your dad wanted a son. I know that it kills you inside to never get the respect you deserve no matter what you do and even the men who claim to respect you patronize you in subtly conditioned ways. I know what your favorite food is. I know how much you love whiskey. I know you’re wearing those red panties that I fucking love on you.” He takes a breath as you let out an involuntary gasp, “And I know it was an accident.”

The first tear fell down your cheek. Shock, anger, fear? None of it mattered anymore; it was useless to pretend. You knew he knew. It was over. He stared at you in pity, like seeing you cry made him hurt.

“How could he not want someone as beautiful as you, doll?” Jungkook whispers, as if he couldn’t believe it himself.

“I wanted…to be the best for him…I tried…” Your voice strains

“I know you did. I know. Which is why you had no choice…”

In an instant, it all comes crashing back.

-

You drove down the lane a bit too clumsily, as you took the long way home.

It was almost midnight and you were speeding past 80 on a two-way lane off a cliffside road, but you didn’t give a single fuck. Your smashed mind was preoccupied at the moment.

A whole year had gone by, but your dad still hadn’t given you an ounce of trust he had for the other officers. Your dad – the fucking police lieutenant. You told him – you warned him that the man was armed, but he still charged in blind, without back up. Almost got the rest of the family members killed by doing something so crazy and careless.

Then he blamed you for not following his lead when he came out.

The tears came out faster than you could wipe them. Growing up in that home was horror. Him being on the force somehow also made him a conservative, self-righteous douchebag. Berating you for the way you’d dress, the way you ate, the way you talked to the way you styled your hair. It made you sick.

You tried so desperately to win over your own father’s love and approval from such a young age and you had nothing to show for it. Deep down, you knew it was because he wanted a boy. A boy who could become a cop like him. And a part of you thought that maybe if you became a cop anyway – one as respected and admired as he was, then he would finally admit he was wrong. At the very least he could finally tell you how proud he was of you.

You went to such lengths to spend the year being the best damn officer your town had seen. 26 arrests, 1 successful drug raid, multiple successful testimonies and extensive gang knowledge. As a plus, you had become beloved in the community. That took the most effort – you had to look the prettiest even while overworking yourself with double shifts. Be traditional and confident but not an overbearing prude. And never let the ‘unnatural’ masculine traits your job gave you, overpower your ‘natural’ feminine ones. Sounds completely simple doesn’t it? Now everyone praised you right and left. It was record breaking; you were the shit.

Yet he still wouldn’t refer to you as detective.

It broke you apart. You were at the end of your wits. Out excelling every male peer in your force. But you had zero to show for it. Which means all your efforts were for nothing.

The pain in your chest got heavier by the minute which made you whimper. Tonight, you had drunk yourself silly but not enough to take away the ache. To help yourself along, you grabbed the half-empty bottle laying in the driver’s seat in a swift motion and popped it open. Your car entered the opposite lane without your knowledge.

You chugged down the last of the bitter liquor, smashing the bottle against the driver’s side window. The anger still remained as you wiped the remnants of alcohol away from your mouth. Your vision was hazy, and you felt so pathetic – dirty, disgusting, like you were rotting from the inside. All you ever wanted to do was earn your father’s acceptance, so much so that you lost sense of any individuality you had left in you.

For a second, everything was so still and quiet, that it felt like all would be okay. The night was dark but serene.

But that tranquility vanished the instant you witnessed two bright lights closing in on you.

It all happened too quickly. You immediately swerved to your right, a loud honking and the friction of tires blasting through your ears. Years of practice and one whole one of police chases makes your instincts faster than normal and you immediately apply the clutch as your foot floors the break and you grip the handle sturdy. Your car rotates haphazardly to the right, but you were able to come to a complete halt before your front engine crashed into a tree.

Yet it feels like you did just that as your body lunges forward and the sounds of a car smashing against shrubs pierces through your ears. You were thankful you had your seat-belt on so you didn’t go flying out the windshield, but all you could think about was the immense pressure against the front of your body. The whiplash left you in shock for a couple seconds.

“Fuck.” You breathe out in agony, bringing your arm up to your sprained shoulder.

As you gather yourself together, you finally remember your surroundings and your head whips to the opposite end of the road to where you finally spot the car you almost hit. In the disoriented dark, you really had to strain into the distance. The car hadn’t been as lucky as yours as it thrashed towards the cliff side of the road. Seemed like it was laid halfway out on the edge. A non-threatening, old compact SUV – most likely a family car. Possibly children present. You could hear them screaming.

Fuck.

You had to help them as quickly as you could. But the instant you tried stepping out, you saw the gleam of a bottle under the driver’s seat.

And just like that, your body fell limp. Because you were more sober now than you’ve ever been in any moment of your life, you barely remembered…you were drunk.

All of the pain in your body immediately changed into fear – your eyes became wide and your pores leaked sweat.

You were drinking.

If you get out to help them, they were bound to smell the alcohol. If they’re able to identify you…if the police are called-

Everything would end tonight. Your career would be over, your family’s name will be dragged through the mud publicly and your father-

Your father would never forgive you. He’d never speak to you again. You’d be disowned.

Don’t embarrass me further, child.

Don’t embarrass me further, c̴h̶i̵l̴d̶

don’tembarrassmefurtherd̸o̴n̷’̸t̶e̶m̷b̷a̴r̴r̴a̴s̸s̷m̷e̶f̷u̷r̴t̸h̸e̴r̴d̵̜͓̈́͝ǫ̵͖̏͝n̴̘̈́’̷͕͐̈́t̴̗̺̃ẻ̵̢͓m̷͉̕b̸̡͕́̆a̴͔̬͆r̴̦͒r̸͉͑̿ạ̵̳̽s̵͙̏s̵̳̣̀̇m̵͉̬̐͋ë̸͓̝̕f̶̙̑u̶͈͠ř̷͔͈̃ẗ̴̠̈́h̸̖͍̅e̵̟̘͆r̷̫̕d̵̜͓̈́͝ǫ̵͖̏͝n̴̘̈́’̷͕͐̈́t̴̗̺̃ẻ̵̢͓m̷͉̕b̸̡͕́̆a̴͔̬͆r̴̦͒r̸͉͑̿ạ̵̳̽s̵͙̏s̵̳̣̀̇m̵͉̬̐͋ë̸͓̝̕f̶̙̑u̶͈͠ř̷͔͈̃ẗ̴̠̈́h̸̖͍̅e̵̟̘͆r̷̫̕d̴̼͚̠̈́̓ơ̶̪̜̅n̸̻̬͕͂͊͝’̸̼̪͉̌̒́t̷̲͓̐͒e̸̗̅͗m̵̨̹̫̓͑b̴̯̗̪̌̑å̷̬͕̻r̵̤͌̅̈́r̸̦̃̅̑ą̵̢̖̋s̷̟̜̄͆s̶̢̬̄m̸͎͗̈́́e̸̘̩̒̋f̷̝̦̟͆ũ̴͚̖̤r̶̙̫͒͝t̸̘͓̾͗͝ḩ̴̫͔̏̒ȇ̶̪̳͠d̶̳̆͂o̶͈̣͊̈́͐ņ̴̼̾’̵̨̆͂t̷̠̺͒̾̔ę̷̯̮̅̓m̸̪̑ͅb̷͇͐͑a̶̩͛̇ͅr̴̢̟̰̄͝r̸̞͙͎͑̅a̶̓̋̃ͅs̴̹͍͋̅̉s̷͓͓͎͒̆̐m̴̹̮͙̃e̶̲͗͠f̷̨͇̐́u̶̫͆̿̉r̶̰̗͑̾t̵̨̼͉͊͘h̸̻͔̥̎̒e̴̲̍̚r̷̺̘̆d̷̟̀̌̃õ̴̲̬̕n̸̡̕’̷̨̭̘̽t̶̛̼̀ë̸͉̲̂ḿ̶͚̌̚ḇ̸͇̗̿̏ȃ̶͖̥͔̿͑r̶̲̝̣͗̅r̴̖͖͘͝a̶͚͉͚͝s̴͎̘͑s̶͙̲̜̾̚m̵̨̧͒̈ẽ̵̱f̶̯̓̑̀ủ̶͍ȑ̵̻̼̍͒͜t̸̞͕͐̉̚h̵̺͐e̷̟̠̪̅͑́r̷̹̔͠d̶̯̼̫͒̑̅ȏ̴͎n̵̹̯̈͗’̷̢͋ṯ̵͓̈́ȅ̸̠ṃ̶̲̓b̸̘̻̈̆͜͝ä̷̢́̈r̴͍̫̐̌r̷̞̂͐͑à̵̛̤̌s̶̠̟̃ş̸͍̜́m̵̰͋̏̈́ë̴̬́f̵̝͈̋̄̚u̶͉͉͇͂̓r̴͚̉̎t̴̹̤͆ȟ̸͔͔̈́ė̶̹͆d̸̟̫͆̈́ő̸̲̔͠n̸̠̈́͌’̴̮̏̂̏t̷̩̦̓̿͒e̵͉̲̰̽̿m̶̡̛b̸͓̥͙͋ă̵̭̈́r̶͓̓͐r̵̤̮̾̌a̴̗͒͘s̸̫̉̆̀s̵̠̉͝m̸̪̗͛̽e̸͈͒̔f̶̺̟͂́u̷̢̧͈͐r̵͉͚̈́͝ẗ̴͚̹͉́̋́h̵͈̰̥̔d̷̟̉ͅo̶̩̟̺̍̒̾ṇ̴͋̾’̶̟̣̓̚ť̵̳̩e̵̡̼͛m̷͉̺̈́b̶̢̙̝͌a̶̳̟̐͠r̶͉̅̿ŕ̶̞̌̃a̶̠̿̊̽ͅs̸̡̨̩̽ş̶̯͎̃̀̈́m̵͙͓̦̍́e̸̠͍̳̽̆f̷͔͛̈́u̴͉̻͂̆͒r̴̥̩̀̑̋ṭ̶͔̯̊̂ḣ̵̡̭̰̔͆ễ̵͎̚r̷̝͔̙̀d̴͈͕͔͊ȍ̴̅̓ͅn̷͙̈’̴̪̜͎̓̈́͠t̴̝̾̚e̵͇̭͐ḿ̵̙̊b̷̧̝͆͛̔ͅa̴̗̲͒͠r̷͉͍̹̀́r̶̨͎̤̄a̶̙͔̳̾́͐s̸̳͑s̴̨͆͆̀ṃ̸̏̕͠è̴͎̻͆̚f̷͎͇̀ͅu̶͔̺͌̏̊͜r̷̩̂͗t̸̝̓̏h̶̠͉̏͝ȩ̷̬̣̈r̵̼̍ď̵͔̊o̵̡͉̣͑͂͒n̵̜̋́’̵̠̈́ͅṭ̷͛͝͝e̸̮͆m̷͚̈̃͊b̵͚͐͊a̷͈̲̘͛͆̚ŕ̵̻̦̘̓͠ŕ̵̹̭̈̎a̷̻̺̫̍͝s̶̜̠̹͑s̴̼̈́m̵̯̏ĕ̷̲̯̣f̵̹͔̍͝ų̸̤͌̿̀r̵̨͓̳̽͝t̵͉̟̃̐h̴̘̰͖̓͛e̵̺̽͠r̸̡̟̻̒̈́

_

“NO!” You shout, covering your ears with your palm to drown out his scalding voice.

Jungkook finally stopped talking, watching you cave into yourself on the chair in front of him. He would’ve done something if his hands weren’t tied down to the table. You looked so fragile and pained, it reminded him of himself in those days. This was the very look you had on after your father whispered something to you all those years ago. As he thought, he was always right about you.

You both were the same.

“_-”

“Shut up!” You scream, clenching your eyes shut and trying to erase the image of the car from your mind. “Just shut the fuck up!”

“You had no choice, ___.” He continued, his voice softer than before, “You had to drive off.”

“No I…” You look back up at the man in front of you through hard blurry tears, trying not to choke on your words. “I didn’t mean it…I didn’t- I promise dad…I did- i-it was an accident…”

“___...I know. It was you father who broke your spirit. It was the world that crushed your soul. They drove you mad, doll. They made you a sinner.”

You say nothing as the tears continue to fall, getting lost inside his bottomless pools.

“You drove off and left the family there. But he didn’t.”

He?

“That kid you never noticed…the kid who would’ve done anything for you.”

His response further tethers you into confusion. You furrow your eyebrows, not understanding what he was trying to say.

“That kid who only looked at you. He was right behind you that night.”

You feel a shiver crawl up your spine.

_

The kid was only slightly older and less miserable that night.

He was involved with every bad name in that town, aka his late father’s acquaintances. They provided him a new shelter, transportation and a means to earn food, as long as he did their bidding. Crime was a lot more organized than he would have ever thought. It was a hard life, but he was learning to survive. Committing small acts here and there for big games. No longer was he some petty thief who stole in desperation, he was a kid with so much blood on his hands that he couldn’t even stand looking at them

There were nights where he would have these dreams about ruling over an empire, of being feared and respected and every time he took a life, those dreams seemed closer to his bloody grasp. Although he hated taking orders, he became obedient to the never-ending pain. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to move up the ladder, but it would be a while till he could see a light.

Throughout this struggling livelihood, he did have one small, precious source of sun in his life. You.

Anytime he could, he would come watch you. Sometimes just small glimpses to get him through the day. Watching you on a stake out, prance around town, or just lounge about in your room. It was the most dangerous thing he did since you were a cop. Every time he went to you, he risked everything, but he was extra careful. There were times where he almost got caught, like the time he was masturbating in your bushes as you walked around with a towel on – don’t look so disgusted, he was just a dumb kid – but thankfully you never did find him. On the contrary, you helped him build all the stealth he’d need for his future.

In some ways, he thought of you as the better half of him. A person whose existence was nothing but a cause for regret, yet you didn’t let that corrupt you, unlike him. You were better than him – righteous and kind. Deep down inside, you were who he wanted to be.

Now that he was free of that monster’s grasp, he would imagine walking up to you as a free kid man. Wondering if you would remember him. He didn’t know what he would say, if there was anything at all he could have told you. It was a yearning he didn’t understand, he was just too young and unsettled.

The kid was content with watching you from far away because he knew he wasn’t worthy of you. It still didn’t stop him from being utterly in love with the thought of you alone.

That night he saw you leave the station. He observed you outside the bar’s window getting wasted. There was a strange feeling he had that night as you left a drunk mess, stumbling towards your 2012 Hyundai Accent and rushing out of the parking lot. The kid would soon learn to always trust his instincts.

He was driving right behind you, making sure he kept his distance. You were one hell of an officer, no doubt. Nevertheless, you were too out of it that night to tell anyone was tailing you. It all happened too quickly. The clumsy driving, the crash, and the aftermath. His heart almost jumped out of his chest when he saw you skid, pressing his own break as hard as he could. But you were able to stop before you crashed into anything, much to his relief.

The kid was trying to think about what he could do. You weren’t too hurt, were you? Should he come out and help you? He didn’t even care about the other car, just observing you in the far distance. As he continued to think, he decided he would come out and see if there was any way he could help you.

And as soon as he clicked his door open, he watched you do something he never would have imagined.

He saw you drive off.

It took a minute to realize what just happened. And the kid had always been observant, so he knew exactly what you were thinking. For the first time that night, he looked over at the other car.

These people could destroy you. Everything you have worked so hard for. He knew exactly why you had to leave. But he couldn’t do something like that. The kid had to help you, just like you did for him at one point.

So, he did the only thing he knew how. He drove up to the edge where their car hanged halfway. There were people yelling from inside, he could hear children. The car began blaring their horn as soon as they saw him drive up.

He drove up really close, close enough that his bumper banged against theirs.

_

Your mind was a blank state.

“He pushed them off.” Jungkook finishes off calmly.

You let out the breath you were holding, your bottom lip quivering softly. “Is…is that why-”

“Yeah. That’s why when you came back a minute later…they were gone.”

They were gone. Everything was as clear as day. You remember driving off, rushing even harder than before as you cried your heart out. It was such a stupid and rash decision – so fucking stupid. Half a minute later, you stepped on the break once again. As your car came to a halt, all you could hear were your sobs and the immobile engine. Your body hurt, everything hurt so, so, so much.

Was it worth it? Is gaining your father’s love worth killing someone over? Slowly, you glanced at the rear view mirror. Looking at the girl with swollen eyes. She wasn’t someone you recognized. The promise to serve and protect rings in your ears. All you were in this moment, was a hypocrite. You didn’t deserve anyone’s praise if this was your reality, you didn’t deserve anyone’s pity.

It was really dark out, and you found the slightest comfort in the world’s shadow. You bit your bottom lip, trying to stop your tears. It didn’t work – it was useless. All worth nothing.

Which is why you screamed out on the top of your lungs, banged your fists against the wheel before turning your car back around.

No matter what happens…you had to save them.

And you tried to. Within a minute, you were back where you before. But once you got there, that one place you’d never forget – those shrubs, the cliff, that road – they were gone. You got out, looking around, hoping that the family survived. The cliff itself was too high and the night was too dark to see below. Pulling at the strands of your hair, screaming out ‘hello?’, you appeared mad.

Till this day you don’t know if it was your gut instinct or an entity bigger than you that gave you a sign, if not the newspaper a few days later, you just knew they were dead. You fell to your knees – a broken woman. Not having any idea of those dark eyes that cried along with you that damned night.

Not until now.

Jungkook was the one who killed them, but how much does that change, really? It was still you who drove off, still you who left them in his hands. You were so deep in thought that you didn’t hear the sound of the interrogation room’s door cranking open. The man opposite you kept his eyes unflinchingly on you, waiting for this all to come to an end.

The last thing you felt was something heavy against the back of your head before you fell unconscious.

“Shit- that was so hard you bastard, I told you to use the chloroform shit.” Jungkook shouts at the man holding the gun’s handle.

“I couldn’t fucking find it, I told you that at the house, kid. Besides, she’s a big girl, she’ll be fine.” The man puts the barrel back in his holster before ripping his badge off his belt and throwing it aside.

“Shut the fuck up and uncuff me, Jimin.”

The blonde sighs, grabbing his keys from his back pocket.

“Tells me to infiltrate a police department, forces me to befriend and stalk some random cop girl, makes me hang out with those pigs. Fucking prick.” Jimin murmurs under his breath as he paces over and unlocks the shackles on said prick.

Jungkook winces, grabbing his wrist and twisting it around to get some circulation going. Then he stretches his neck before standing up and dusting his pants. Fuck, this chair was uncomfortable. He points at some fresh blood staining the elder’s chin, prompting him to wipe it off.

“So, what’s the situation outside?”

“Me and Kane took care of all of them. We took our time with Hyun, like you wanted. Now Kane’s waiting in the van for us.”

“Good.” Jungkook nods, looks like everything went according to plan. He glances over at your limp form and walks up to where you sat insentient. With a huff, he got on his knees so he could see your face up close, like he’s always wanted to.  

“I can’t believe this day is here.”

Jimin looks between you both. “What are you gonna do with her?”

The younger cups your cheek. “You know I was ecstatic that night. I was…fuck, I never thought you could be with me. But that night, you proved that you were meant to be mine. And I waited so long for this moment. This moment where I could introduce myself to you as your equal. It’s why I was out on that mill this morning, detective. I wanted to meet you so much that it hurt.”

…That wasn’t an answer to his question but Jimin knew not to further bother his boss. There probably was a lot he had planned for you, but he wasn’t going to say it. No one ever really knew what this kid was thinking, anyway. He was a cryptic bastard.

Jungkook turns towards Jimin and extends his free hand out to him. Without being asked, Jimin reaches into his front pocket and pulls out the old handkerchief. His boss usually didn’t go this long without holding it. He places it into the younger’s hand without a word.

Turning back around, Jungkook places the cloth right underneath your shut eyes. He gently wipes away the tears leaking out.

“No one will ever hurt us again, doll.” Jungkook whispers before standing back up.

He places the handkerchief back in his own pocket and moves in to pick you up bridal style. Safely tucking you in his arms.

“Lead the way.” He orders Jimin who nods before opening the door of interrogation room 4.

___

This is absolute trash :))) I hope ya’ll enjoy tho. Lemme know what you thought, srsly because this fic stepped out of a certain comfort zone for me. I am absolutely open to part 2 if ya’ll want. if there is something you’re curious about, ask away.

#yandere bts #yandere jungkook #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts #jungkook #R:SIN

[simul16]

The Curious Case of the Original Women of Ravenloft (or Loose Canons Can Be Dangerous)

For many years, we in the Dungeons & Dragons RPG studio have considered things like D&D novels, D&D video games, D&D comic books, as wonderful expressions of D&D storytelling and D&D lore, but they are not canonical for the D&D roleplaying game. -Jeremy Crawford Those among us who are fortunate enough to become shepherds or stewards of the D&D game must train ourselves to become art and lore experts so that we know when we’re being faithful to the game’s past and when we’re moving in a new direction. We decide, based on our understanding of the game’s history and audience, what artwork or lore to pull forward, what artwork or lore needs to change, and what artwork or lore should be buried so deep that it never again sees the light of day. -Chris Perkins There is a very simple statement to be made about all these stories: they do not really come off intellectually as problems, and they do not come off artistically as fiction. They are too contrived, and too little aware of what goes on in the world. - Raymond Chandler, "The Simple Art of Murder"

There's been a bit of a stir in the D&D community over some comments that Jeremy Crawford made at a press briefing prior to the D&D Live event about how only the information published in a WotC Fifth Edition D&D product is 'canonical' for D&D. There was enough of a reaction that Chris Perkins, self-described as "one of the D&D Studio's principal game architects", published an article on the WotC site (linked under Perkins's name above) explaining this statement and explicitly calling out what it means when discussing an intellectual property with a long-standing and vast catalog of lore, where that lore is one of the primary positive features of that property.

On the surface, it seems pretty straight-forward. Crawford's comments focused on not overwhelming partners with lore requirements when producing peripheral products like novels and video games so that they can focus on producing their product rather than meeting arbitrary lore requirements (not that this seems to have helped the most recent video game product release). Perkins mentions this, too, explicitly evoking R.A. Salvatore's novels and how Salvatore (perhaps infamously) used to incorporate elements into his stories that were outright illegal according to the D&D game rules (such as Drizzt's dual-wielding of scimitars, only made legal in 5e, or his creation of Pikel Bouldershoulder, a 'mentally challenged' dwarf who believed himself to be a druid and even eventually displayed druid-like abilities, even though dwarves in the D&D of the era of the Cleric Quintet series, where Pikel appeared, were not allowed to be druids). Perkins's comments also refocused the discussion on players, DMs, and their games, making the point that every campaign develops its own canon, and that the version of the Forgotten Realms run at a given D&D table does not perfectly match either the version of the same world run at a different table, or even as presented in the official published campaign sourcebooks.

This position is easily defensible; I even presented it myself in a response on Twitter to Perkins's own comment on an event in the Acquisitions Incorporated campaign he runs and records for online consumption. A restaurant that exists in the Forgotten Realms of Acquisitions Incorporated might have been shut down for health reasons after a shambling mound attack in a different campaign, or a previous party of PCs might have made a disastrous error during the war with reborn Netheril that led to the fall of Cormyr, with the coastal area of the former kingdom being absorbed by their rivals in Sembia while the interior lands were allowed to be overrun with monsters migrating out of the Stonelands (which makes for a nearly ideal 'starter zone' for a new 5E Realms campaign, IMO).

But just because there are benefits to such an approach to canon doesn't mean that it's the best way to approach canon, particularly with respect to a property which has had a long lifespan and is expected to have an even longer one. There are plenty of ways to criticize such an approach, many of which have been brought up by other commenters:

In any long-lasting intellectual property, there is a core of fans that are devoted to the lore and canon of that property -- see Harry Potter, Star Wars, etc. 'Loosening up' the lore not only convinces your existing super-fans not to continue to support and evangelize your property, but also prevents the creation of a new generation of such fans to continue your property's life into a new generation of fans.

Since much of what is on offer in a published sourcebook is the current 'canon' (despite Perkins's statement that "we don't produce sourcebooks that spool out a ton of backstory", the reality is that much of the content of sourcebooks like the Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide and Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft is setting material: i.e.: "backstory"), if you're not going to stand up for the lore of prior editions, and by implication make it clear that future editions aren't going to be beholden to the lore of even this edition, then why get heavily invested in the lore at all? (This ties into the above point, as the fewer people who get invested in the lore of a property, the fewer evangelists for that property you will produce.)

If you have any Organized Play for your game (which D&D does, as does so-called 'living card games' which are based on an advancing storyline), loosened canon makes it easier for those authors to produce content, but simultaneously makes it harder to incorporate the content that players enjoy into the overall game. In addition, the later stories can't take into account all of the potential outcomes that a given group might have taken through a given adventure, so in effect, this turns all adventures into "railroad plots" with respect to the larger campaign narrative, where the best outcome is assumed for each adventure and thus the PCs don't really have the ability to influence the overall metaplot. (This gets complicated, because it necessarily involves different campaign outcomes contesting with one another to become the 'canonical' outcome, which is itself pretty challenging. Regardless, one of the attractions of a 'living campaign' is that the campaign in theory adapts to respond to the actions of the players; a 'living campaign' that doesn't do this is no different than a traditional scripted campaign.)

Perkins's final point in his essay, though, seems just as important to the current 'administration' as any of the other explanations, and that's the quote referenced at the top. In effect, what Perkins is saying is that the 5E team wants to be able to take what they consider 'good lore' and keep in in the game, while revising or outright eliminating 'bad lore'. Again, this seems like a defensible position, but it also has a flip side: it assumes that your changes to the lore are not just lazy or arbitrary, but are made consciously and for specific reasons. This could work well if you actually follow through on your intention, but given the realities of publishing on a schedule, it's inevitable that some amount of lazy or arbitrary decision-making will occur, and in those decisions, you can inadvertently (or allow someone without your knowledge to deliberately) make decisions that harm the canon. The statement seems reasonable, but as we'll discover below, it's actually fundamentally dishonest.

With that in mind, let's explore...

The Curious Case of the Original Women of Ravenloft

The original Ravenloft setting as released in the early 1990s, like the game studio that released it, contained a lot of old white guys, and it didn't necessarily get any more diverse with time. The early 3E Ravenloft product "Secrets of the Dread Realms" by Swords & Sorcery Studios lists eighteen Domains of Dread, half of which were unambiguously run by old white dudes. Depending on how you want to define 'old' and 'white', you could even add a few more domains to the list (such as Verbrek, ruled by the son of the former old white dude darklord, and Markovia, depending on whether you consider Markov to still be human enough to qualify as an old white dude). Only five domains were ruled by female darklords, and one of those (Borca) isn't even wholly ruled by the female darklord. Comparing the darklords of Secrets of the Dread Realms to that of Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft points out just how much of a priority it was for the 5E team to increase the diversity of darklords in the setting.

Curiously, though, the female characters retained from classic Ravenloft don't appear to have been changed in a manner that fits Perkins's explanation of what they consider when deciding what to bring forward from older lore, as in nearly every case, the character became less interesting and possesses less agency in her current 5E presentation than she did in her original pre-5E incarnation.

Jacqueline Montarri

Let's begin our survey with a character who technically doesn't yet exist in 5E lore, and thus by Crawford's definition doesn't exist in lore at all. It might seem odd to begin my presentation of 'female characters deprived of agency by their 5E presentations' by starting with a character who wasn't presented, but on the other hand, being removed from canon and thus from existence could be argued as the most severe loss of agency possible for a character.

Jacqueline doesn't exist in 5E because the organization she founded, the Red Vardo Traders, doesn't exist in 5E. In older editions, the Red Vardo Traders was both a legitimate trade company as well as a criminal organization engaging in smuggling, assassination, and other crimes, and are based in the Barovian town of Krezk. The version of Krezk presented in Curse of Strahd, however, makes no mention of the Red Vardo Traders, choosing instead to present Krezk as a small village dominated by the Monastery of Saint Markovia*, a location that does not exist in pre-5E Ravenloft. The Red Vardo Traders were founded by Jacqueline for a specific purpose, and thus both their legitimate business operations and their criminal pursuits are but shells for their true purpose: to find Jacqueline Montarri's head.

* - Saint Markovia himself was initially presented in the late 3E reboot adventure "Expedition to Castle Ravenloft", as one of the inhabitants of Castle Ravenloft's crypts; Markovia was changed from a man into a woman as part of Curse of Strahd, and the Sanctuary of First Light, the largest church of the Morninglord in Ravenloft pre-5E and placed in Krezk by its developers, was re-written in Curse of Strahd as the Monastery of Saint Markovia.

Montarri sought the secret of eternal youth, and in doing so, consulted with the Vistani seer Madame Eva to find it. Eva originally resisted, but finally revealed that the secret rested within the library of Castle Ravenloft, and Jacqueline, out of a desire to be the only possessor of such a secret, out of a need to do evil, or perhaps both, murdered Eva before departing for Strahd's castle. Unfortunately, Jacqueline's infiltration of Castle Ravenloft attracted Strahd's attention, and she was captured, turned over to the villagers in Barovia, and beheaded for her crime against Strahd. However, some of Eva's fellow Vistani asked to take custody of the body, explaining that the woman had murdered their leader, and Jacqueline eventually awoke -- wearing Madame Eva's head. She since learned that she could 'wear' the decapitated heads of others, and cannot survive long without one. Jacqueline's body has not aged, but her head ages a year for each day she wears it, requiring her to continually murder (and possibly assume the identities of those she murders) to survive while she searches for her original head, the only thing that can break the curse that Eva's kin placed upon her.

That's a pretty amazing backstory, and one I'd think would be very worth including in a new Ravenloft setting, save for one problem: Madame Eva's death. Now this isn't actually a big problem in the context of classic Ravenloft: both Eva herself and her tribe of Vistani were known to have a 'curious' relationship to time (former Ravenloft writer John W. Mangrum explicitly called Madame Eva a "time traveler" when it was pointed out that Eva's continued existence in Ravenloft canon suggested that she had not actually been killed), but it did cause confusion among those with a more static approach to continuity. Since Eva unambiguously exists in 5E Ravenloft, being referenced in both Curse of Strahd and Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, it appears that the decision to jettison Jacqueline and her Red Vardo Traders comes mainly from a desire to untangle that confusing bit about Eva actually being dead but still walking around.

Granted, the need for an organization like the Red Vardo Traders is perhaps less significant in a Ravenloft where the Core doesn't exist and every domain is its own Island of Terror, but given that Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft still lists a number of organizations known to be capable of travel between domains, including two that they just invented out of whole cloth, it would seem as though making use of a pre-existing organization might have worked just as well. The other complicating factor is that Montarri is not herself a darklord; with the focus of the 5E Ravenloft experience on darklords as linchpins of the setting, having a compelling NPC who isn't a darklord (but who honestly could be made into one fairly easily, as her curse lends itself to a darklord's punishment and her formation of the Red Vardo Traders into her way of dealing with the limitations of being a darklord) would seem to detract from what the 5E designers were trying to do with the setting.

But this isn't the only or even the worst example of a female character deprived of her agency in the new regime...

Gabrielle Aderre

Unlike Jacqueline, whose elimination from Ravenloft seems like an editorial red pen taken to an otherwise merely irritating issue, anyone familiar with Gabrielle Aderre's backstory realized that her background would have to change significantly given the changes to the Vistani in Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft.

In pre-5E Ravenloft, the Vistani were an exotic human culture of outsiders, driven by their heritage and abilities to make their own way within the Domains of Dread, and having developed mysterious abilities and customs to protect themselves from its dangers. Non-Vistani were viewed with suspicion, to the point where the Vistani had a specific word ("giorgio") for non-Vistani, and those who chose to breed with non-Vistani and their offspring were frequently outcast from Vistani culture. Female Vistani were often gifted with 'The Sight', a precognitive or divination ability, but the Vistani took great pains to ensure that no male children were born with The Sight, lest that child grow up to be a prophesied doom-bringer known as a Dukkar. (One such seer was Hyskosa, whose legendary prophesies eventually led to the Great Conjunction which nearly tore the realms apart.) Because of their separation from mundane society, more traditional settlements tended to fear the Vistani, especially their rumored skill with fashioning deadly curses when wronged, and though Vistani would often trade with such settlements, they were never truly welcome in them; ultimately, the Vistani would follow their wanderlust and move on, leaving even more strange tales and confusing lore in their wake.

Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft changed all that. Now, the Vistani are simply a sprawling human culture who "refuses to be captives of a single domain, the Mists, or any terror." Their abilities are no longer unique -- there are a number of Vistani who "possess the Mist Walker Dark Gift" that can be taken by any character -- though they are said to "understand how to employ Mist Talismans" with their "traditional magic". Instead of being seen by others as mysterious outsiders, now "the news and goods Vistani bring ensures a genuine welcome" from more traditional settlements, and only "more dismal communities view Vistani with suspicion"; likewise the Vistani themselves no longer refer to non-Vistani as "giorgio", nor do they seem to have any issues with those of mixed Vistani blood traveling or dwelling among them. Most significantly, the legends of the Dukkar no longer exist, with both male and female Vistani serving as spellcasters "with many favoring divination magic for the practical help if provides in avoiding danger." In fact, Hyskosa is no longer a lost seer prophesying the doom of the Dread Realms, but "a renowned poet and storyteller" who is alive and leads his own caravan of Vistani through the Mists.

Given all of this, Gabrielle's pre-5E backstory would need to change quite drastically. Gabrielle's mother was half-Vistani, and possessed enough of The Sight to prophesy that Gabrielle could never seek to have a family or tragedy would be the inevitable result. Learning to hate the Vistani based on her mother's incessant refusal to acknowledge her desires for a family, Gabrielle eventually abandoned her mother during a werewolf attack, fleeing into Invidia where she was captured and brought before the darklord, who sought to enslave her to command her exotic sensuality. Instead, Gabrielle made use of the traditional Vistani "evil eye" to paralyze the darklord, murdering him and assuming his lordship over Invidia. Not long after, Gabrielle was visited by a 'mysterious gentleman caller', after which she discovered she was pregnant, eventually giving birth to a boy who proved to possess The Sight. Delighted that she had managed to give birth to a Dukkar, she failed to realize how quickly the boy grew or how powerful he proved to be until her son, Malocchio, usurped her throne (but not the dark lordship of Invidia) and cast her out of his court. Though there are definitely some problematic things in this story, it's not so terrible that it couldn't still serve as the foundation of a tragic Darklord's origin.

In Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, Invidia is detailed among the short descriptions of "Other Domains of Dread", and her pre-5E backstory has been utterly thrown out. There's no indication of how Gabrielle became darklord of Invidia, who the father of her child is, or anything from pre-5E lore. Instead, Gabrielle has become one of the parents from the story of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory -- a rich, bad mom convinced of her child's greatness and willing to accept anyone who supports that story while turning a blind eye to her child's misbehavior and cruelty toward his servants and teachers.

Pre-5E Gabrielle wasn't ideal, but at least she had a drive: she wanted a family, and refused to accept that her desire could not overcome the inevitable grinding wheel of fate. 5E Gabrielle arguably isn't even evil, just supernaturally deluded (ironically, her main flaw is her blind acceptance of the rightness of her own privilege), so it's not even clear why she rather than Malocchio is the darklord of Invidia. Rather than wanting a thing she can never have, 'modern' Gabrielle assumes she has a thing that doesn't exist, and is less a tragic figure desperately trying to assert her own agency than a deluded puppet, acting out a part in a drama that makes no sense. Granted, as we noted above, some degree of Gabrielle's old backstory would need to change to accommodate the other changes to Ravenloft lore as part of the 5E transition, but the decision to simply throw out the old Gabrielle and turn her into a character who isn't even aware of her own lack of agency in her situation is, in its own way, even more tragic than Gabrielle's original pre-5E story.

Isolde

Isolde is a fascinating character, because she was created after the Carnival, the group she leads in Ravenloft lore. In pre-5E Ravenloft, the Carnival was the Carnival l'Morai, run by a sinister being known as the Puppetmaster. The events that led to the Carnival breaking free of the Puppetmaster's influence are detailed in the 1993 Ravenloft novel "Carnival of Fear". Then, in the 1999 supplement "Carnival", John W. Mangrum and Steve Miller take the Carnival l'Morai and introduce them to Isolde, a mysterious woman who joins the Carnival and assumes the role of its leader and protector. Much of the internal story within the supplement itself involves the theories that many of the other characters have about who Isolde is and where she comes from, and how various aspects of the Carnival, such as the Twisting (a change that comes over those who remain with the Carnival for any signficant amount of time and seem to bring hidden or secret traits to the surface as exotic abilities or mutations), relate to her. In the end, though (spoiler alert!), Mangrum and Miller reveal Isolde's true backstory -- she is a chaotic good ghaele eladrin who voluntarily chose to enter Ravenloft in pursuit of a fiend named the Gentleman Caller (thus the Carnival supplement is also the origin of the Caller, one of the signature non-darklord villains of the setting). The Twisting is revealed to be a side-effect of Isolde's 'reality wrinkle'; as an outsider, Isolde can re-make reality in a short distance around her, and one of the ways she does this is by bringing someone's inner self out and making it visible to others. Honestly, if you wanted a domain or group whose underlying reason-to-exist seems tailor-made for a modern RPG audience, it would be one where having your inner self revealed to the world, one that you've been taught is freakish and strange, proves to be beautiful to those who accept you.

But that's not what we got in Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, perhaps because of the book's insistence on page 6 that "Nowhere Is Safe". Instead of the 3E ghaele eladrin, Isolde is now just an eladrin, a 4E planar elf variant. Instead of entering Ravenloft and finding the Carnival l'Morai in need of a leader and protector, she was manipulated first by a powerful archfey into leading a fey carnival, then inexplicably decided to swap carnivals with a different carnival run by a group of shadar-kai through the Shadowfell, even going so far as to accept the intelligent (and evil) sword Nepenthe, who is the actual darklord of the Carnival.

Again, as with Gabrielle, some simplification of Isolde's backstory was probably inevitable, as the original backstory made use of very specific Ravenloft mechanics that the 5E version simply doesn't want to deal with (mainly Isolde's 'reality wrinkle' which drives the Twisting). But not only did the designers take a character who had explicitly chosen both to enter Ravenloft in pursuit of the Gentleman Caller and to take leadership of the Carnival to serve as its protector and changed her into a character who is manipulated into doing everything she does that gets her into Ravenloft (and leaves her no memory of how or why she got there), the designers didn't even decide to keep Isolde as the most significant character in Carnival, allowing the sword Isolde carries to take that starring role.

Oddly, a lot of the changes to Isolde's story are reminiscent of the classic Ravenloft story of Elena Faith-Hold and how she became the darklord of Nidala in the Shadowlands, which suggested to me that perhaps at one time the Shadowlands were not going to be included in Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, and the changes to Isolde's story were meant to be a call-out to what would be the missing story of Elena. But the Shadowlands also exist as an "Other Domain of Dread", so in the end, the changes to Isolde served no real positive purpose.

Interlude

It's worth taking a moment to contrast the characters above with the domains in Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft that gained female darklords who didn't have female darklords previously:

Dementlieu, formerly ruled by Dominic D'Honaire, is now ruled by Saidra D'Honaire; it is hinted but not stated explicitly in Saidra's backstory that she is not actually related to the former darklord, but simply assumed the family name as part of her assumption of the rulership of Dementlieu, in which the Grand Masquerade must be maintained above all else.

Falkovnia, formerly ruled by Vlad Drakov, is now ruled by Vladeska Drakov; Vladeska's backstory makes it plain that she is a female re-skin of the original Vlad Drakov, himself a character from the Dragonlance world of Krynn. Other than her origin, which is now no longer tied to Dragonlance, her backstory is largely the same as her predecessor's, save that instead of the dead rising to battle Drakov's attempted invasions of their northern neighbor, Darkon, now the dead rise to reclaim Falkovnia itself from Vladeska's attempt to 'pacify' it.

Lamordia, formerly ruled by Adam, the creation of the mad doctor Victor Mordenheim, is now ruled by the mad doctor Viktra Mordenheim; Victor's hubris in his attempt to create life are matched by Viktra's attempts to defeat death.

Valachan, formerly ruled by Baron Urik von Kharkov, is now ruled by Chakuna; in one of the few backstories in Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft that acknowledges a former darklord, Chakuna's backstory is that she had to become a monster (a were-panther, specifically) to defeat a monster (a panther who was polymorphed into a man as part of a revenge plot, fled from the Forgotten Realms into Ravenloft upon realizing what he was, where he was transformed into a vampire...look, not every convoluted backstory for the old Ravenloft darklords was necessarily a good convoluted backstory).

I'd argue that each of the darklords above retains her agency in Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, but it's curious to note that each of those darklords seems to have inherited that sense of agency from her relationship to the male darklord that preceded her, sometimes literally (in the cases of Saidra and Chakuna) and sometimes figuratively (in the cases where Vladeska and Viktra are mainly female re-skinnings of the original male darklords). The designers clearly have the capacity to allow a female darklord to exercise agency and have drive and purpose to her existence, if that drive and purpose was inherited from or inspired by an original male character. If the character was a woman all along, though, then agency and drive and purpose are not really important to the designers, if they can fit that character into the specially designed hole the size of the concept they had for the new domain. Which brings us to the character who I feel was done dirtiest by the designers in moving from classic Ravenloft to 5E...

Jacqueline Renier

Jacqueline Renier is one of the original Ravenloft darklords, tracing her origins all the way back to the original "Black Box" campaign setting released by TSR in 1990. She appears in two different places in that boxed set -- once as the chaotic evil darklord of Richemulot in the Realm of Terror booklet, and in a portrait of the Renier family included as a handout in the box. The Renier family was actually an ancient wererat clan in the world they originally came from, and Jacqueline herself was the granddaughter of the patriarch of the clan, Claude Renier. When the Reniers fled into Ravenloft to escape the justice of their original world, they first appeared in Falkovnia, where they ruled the sewers until finally forced out by Vlad Drakov's troops. Fleeing into the Mists, the Reniers found themselves in the new domain of Richemulot, and Claude found himself the domain's darklord.

Jacqueline proved an eager student in the manipulative ways of her elders, however; both her grandfather, who maintained control over the clan through a combination of coercion and sheer force of personality, and her mother, who murdered Jacqueline's father seemingly only so that Jacqueline and her twin sister would not need to lose the Renier name. Jacqueline learned the game so well that one day she manipulated her own grandfather into his destruction at her hands, so cleanly that no one else in the family dared to oppose her ascension. Jacqueline was now the matriarch of the Reniers, and the ruler of Richemulot.

But 3E Ravenloft added a few additional wrinkles to Jacqueline's backstory. In the Ravenloft Gazetteers, it was revealed that Jacqueline's ambition to assume control of her clan and the domain of Richemulot were not just driven by a desire for power, but in the name of a vision of the future where wererats would reigns supreme over all other humanoids. She began encouraging migration into the largely undeveloped and underpopulated lands of Richemulot, while overseeing work in putrid laboratories to develop the Becoming Plague -- a disease that would transform humanoids en-masse into wererats under Jacqueline's ultimate command. In every speech Jacqueline would give about the glorious future of Richemulot, it was not the future of humanity she was referring to, but rather the coming age of the rat.

Jacqueline's backstory wasn't perfect -- as with other female darklords, she also got saddled with the 'she desperately wants to be loved and is terrified of being alone' trope -- but for the most part, this is a truly impressive backstory. And in our age, a domain featuring an ambitious politician pushing nationalism to motivate her partisans, only for that nationalism to not be what her partisans believe it is would seem to be an extremely fitting template for horror. It would certainly seem possible to re-write the few problematic aspects of her character with more modern tropes; make Jacqueline an 'ace' (asexual) but who still craves romance based on her upbringing and is both attracted to and terrified by anyone who might potentially prove to be her equal, and you've got what I'd consider to be one of the best darklords in the setting.

As you might expect, given Jacqueline's placement on this list, that's not nearly what we got in Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft.

Instead, Jacqueline was born as a noblewoman within Richemulot, and was quick to notice that the rise of the bourgeoise would threaten the power of the nobility and lead to their diminution in society. Jacqueline's grandfather was not the charismatic, sadistic mastermind of a clan of wererats, but an aging nobleman growing infirm in his old age, and he proved unable and/or unwilling to work to change things, so Jacqueline would need to be the person to reverse her family's fortunes and the decline of the nobility in society. Not by doing anything herself, mind, but rather by trying to find an organization of nobles working to maintain the supremacy of the nobility. Finding them, she learned too late that they were secretly a society of wererats when she was forcibly made into one of them, but she quickly adapted, rising to command both the rat and wererat populations before finally unleashing a plague -- the Gnawing Plague -- upon the populace. Rather than converting the population into wererats, the Gnawing Plague just killed them, and when the people begged Jacqueline and the nobles for aid, Jacqueline made helpful noises but did nothing useful (it's not recorded if she uttered the words "Let them eat cake," as she watched the peasants die). Her 'torment' as a darklord is that she wants to return to the privileged life she had as a noblewoman, but can't, as the need to supervise the creation of new, more virulent plagues and unleash them to keep the peasantry from revolting and overthrowing the nobility prevents her from building the kind of society that would actually support a thriving nobility.

Instead of a domain where we have seen the future and humanity has no place in it, we have a one-percenter using every ounce of her privilege to stay above the ranks of the peasants she despises. Instead of an intelligent, ambitious planner capable of executing long-range goals flawlessly, we have a vapid, shallow socialite yearning to return to her days as a debutante. As villains go, Jacqueline has fallen a long, long way from her portrayal in pre-5E Ravenloft.

Probably the most offensive part of the redesign of Richemulot as 'the plague domain' is that we've spent over nineteen months living through a plague of our own, and the kind of horror that is presented as Richemulot's primary adventure cycle, the Cycle of the Plague, bears almost no resemblance to the reality we've lived through. Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft presents a world where common people are to be feared, and authorities abuse their power to heartlessly quarantine the sick to stop the disease from overtaking everyone, yet say nothing about the horror of those who refuse to accept that the plague exists, or who profiteer from bizarre 'cures' and treatments. The designers present Richemulot as an example of 'disaster horror', where "the world has fallen into ruin -- or it's getting there fast," when the domain could be an example of the most classic of all horror tropes: humans are the most horrible of monsters.

Thus, the final quote leading this essay. It's not my place to argue that the folks who wrote Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft are good or bad writers, and as Raymond Chandler noted, it's not really necessary. After all, "[t]he poor writer is dishonest without knowing it, and the fairly good one can be dishonest because he doesn't know what to be honest about." And ultimately this entire drive, to try to distance the product from the mistakes of the past by also distancing it from its successes, all while presuming that one can correct the deficiencies of the past without committing mistakes that, in hindsight, will seem just as obvious to our successors: that undertaking is fundamentally dishonest. The people writing, editing, and publishing Dungeons & Dragons today grew up on the old tropes that are now being rejected as no longer being relevant, as unnecessary complexity, as potentially harmful, without realizing that the harmful bits aren't just what was written down, but what was learned, such as a woman's motivation and agency meaning little unless they correspond with those of a man.

Yes, there's a lot of stuff published before 2014 that seems bad to us today that, for whatever reason, didn't seem bad to us back when it was published, read, and became part of our fictional worlds. But there's also no reason to assume that process ended in 2014. Update the lore where it's needed, but realize that the process never ends, even with the lore you're writing today to replace it.

#dnd

[jadelotusflower]

Robin Hood Rewatch: 1x13 A Clue: No

“Previously on” recaps can be annoying, but there is an art to it and I love a good one. This is a very, very good one, summarising the last episode with ramping tension as the music builds, then cuts to a different take of the last scene as the theme song starts, and we’re into the opening credits.

This is a long one, so it’s going under the cut:

Guy estimates that the “inner circle” of Robin’s gang is “a dozen at the most” and I find it very funny that neither he nor Vaisey have twigged that it’s always the same five people around him. What’s more annoying than funny is that they don’t know how many are in the “outer circle” because that really should have been A Thing in the show (Forrest and Hanton should have come back to guest star! I will never let this go!) After all, we see Little John with more men in the first episode, there are other outlaws in the forest/across the shire that are either working with Robin, or pose a risk to them, and I wish this had been explored.

Djaq manhandling and holding her sword to Pitts’s throat - I love Djaq.

The first arrow Robin shoots is intended for Vaisey, but one of the guards inconveniently walks in front and gets it in the chest. The second arrow is intended for Vaisey as well but he ducks (”my tooth!”) so we can’t fault the writing for a credible attempt at Why Doesn’t Robin Just Kill The Sheriff, because in this scene at least, he tries.

Bye Pitts. You certainly were.

I actually really love this scene (which probably seemed odd given the high body count), but Robin drawing his sword and charging, with Much, Djaq, and John backing him up to avenge Marian’s apparent death/make a final stand, as the music shifts from the jaunty Rescue Theme to Marian’s Theme, just gets me every time.

Although thanks to the cast commentary, I can’t unsee Djaq flipping that guy over her head twice, but hey, it’s a badass move. Clearly they didn’t shoot enough coverage of this fight, because we get the same action from several different angles.

Other than the flashback in episode 8, I think this is the only time we see Robin in Crusader mode, and just how lethal he (and the gang) can be when unleashed and with nothing to lose. Even when the enemy retreats Robin remains kind of wild-eyed with rage unsated, and it takes a beat for him to snap out of it. It’s symbolism time - he sticks his sword in the ground and leaves it there, and we don’t see it again this episode (or much in season 2).

There’s some nice acting going on from everyone in this scene - just utter exhaustion, Allan and Will oblivious to why the rest are so distraught, Much taking it upon himself to tell them but can’t say the words, and Robin with the finality of “she’s dead.” Their faces!

Djaq is still holding two swords as she enters the cave, which is a nice character beat - no doubt the fight also brought back unpleasant memories/triggers for her, and she remains on edge, for the moment unwilling to give up her defences even when the threat is gone.

I really love this scene too (the gang mourning Marian) and I think it’s quite deftly written - Djaq’s immediate reaction being the importance of a quick burial (as per Islamic tradition), Robin trying to keep it together, attempting to ask John/Will to build a coffin but unable to, so deflecting to ask Djaq to prepare Marian’s body, before trying twice again; John soothing him and taking charge. Will’s single tear and speaking of Marian’s goodness. Much responding with “Good? Oh, she was... She was...” looking to Robin because of course his thoughts are for Robin’s grief before his own, and also that his own relationship with Marian was complex. Allan: “She was alright...yeah” that says so much, and of course John’s “Her, we liked.” Again, some fine acting, kudos everyone.

“I loved her and I never told her” is ironic because Robin still won’t tell her until halfway through the next season, and if he had in the aftermath of her apparent death he could have spared himself a lot of the angst of the rest of the episode. But of course he doesn’t tell her, doesn’t learn from this moment, because emotions are hard, and sometimes we make the same mistakes over and over again.

I really love that it’s Allan that notices that Marian is alive, and his little “told ya” flourish.

Score note: while Marian is “dead” her Theme is strings, when she opens her eyes, it’s back to the guitar.

Guy’s guilt in finding out his impending marriage to Marian is based on false pretenses - would he still have forced the marriage if he’d known that from the start?

Djaq still has her two swords as they take Marian back to Knighton.

Guy, if your first instinct when told Marian is not at home is that she’s run away rather than marry you...maybe take a hint? “She cannot run from me” is a big yikes, and this confuses me as to Guy’s motivation in this scene. Did he intend to tell Marian the truth, but then convince himself otherwise (because “the excitement of the wedding” =/= “the wedding excites her”), but then why so angry when he thinks shes run? The difference between getting someone go/being left, I suppose.

Illness is a perfectly plausible explanation for delaying the wedding that no one seems to think of.

Edward is actually pretty bang on in this scene with Robin from a father’s perspective, telling him to let Marian go if he cannot stop it, and do the right thing. On the other hand...

“I am sick of doing the right thing” is why Robin is such a compelling character for me - because it is hard to always be good, to be held to that higher standard, and make the unselfish choice. I enjoy narratives that explore that, and this show is surprisingly unflinching about it, exemplified by:

The next scene, which is one of the most emotionally brutal/hard to watch of the entire show, in which Robin lashes out and does everything to drive Much away, including calling him “a pox”  and a “small man” until Much’s heart visibly breaks.

Now I don’t want to excuse Robin here, because he is objectively awful to someone who doesn’t deserve it, who is trying to give him support but also telling him some much needed hard truths (even if it is slightly self-serving, which is what what seems to set Robin off). But at the end of the day, if he loves Marian he needs to accept that it is her choice to marry Guy, to “do the right thing” to (she thinks) protect her father - and later of he does just that. For now Edward and Much are both right, it is more important for him to try and protect the king from Vaisey, because if he is ousted and Richard back on the throne so many lives would be improved, including the people of Locksley. But Robin has been pushed to breaking point all season, and has now snapped and can’t see reason, but is stuck in his own grief/rage.

But unlike previously, when Robin said regrettable things in the heat of the moment and then immediately took them back, this is a calculated attack designed to hurt Much the most, because he loves Robin so much that it takes A Lot to push him away. It’s a bold move to make your hero so unlikable in such a moment, because Robin really is unforgivably cruel here, and trust the audience to understand why. I mean, I don’t want to bang on about the PTSD, but it’s (partly) the PTSD, based on a triggering, precipitating event causing a self-destructive spiral. Robin needs some Ye Olde Therapy.  

For all the talk about Robin getting his title and lands back, nothing is said about what happens to Gisborne once he does, other than that they can’t prove he was the one who tried to assassinate Richard. Because really, Richard probably would believe Robin even though the tattoo was burned away, and Guy’s certainly committed other crimes that could be testified to just like they’re intending for Vaisey - and let’s be real, it’s not like a king needs evidence to order someone’s death (hello, season 2 finale). Boom - Guy executed, marriage to Marian annulled, problem solved!

So, the scene between Marian and Guy, in which Marian is more concerned with whether or not Guy tried to kill the king than the fact that he stabbed her. But its understandable, because Marian thinks there’s no way out that doesn’t risk her father’s life, and it’s easier to convince herself that maybe Guy didn’t do it to make the best of things. I think she does have some kind of feelings for him, or is at least moved by his feelings for her, and believes if nothing else she can influence him/continue working from the inside; giving up the mantle of the Nightwatchman but doing the same work (in a different way) as Lady Gisborne.

And then it’s Robin/Marian angst, round 3, and it’s a far cry from their interaction in the cave milliseconds away from “I love yous” - in both tone and body language they’re back in defensive positions talking past one another. The tension, it be thick.

Marian is making her best rationalisation with “deprived of love” and Robin not at all buying the Woobification 101. Once she tells him her decision to marry Guy, he accepts it, but it’s Marian’s reaction that’s telling, she’s surprised that he doesn’t argue, deep down she wants him to fight for her, to say that the real reason she shouldn’t marry Guy is because he loves her. It’s quite a contrast from the previous scene where Guy was very open about how he feels about her, while Robin deflects, but while she was conflicted about Guy trying to kiss her, she’s frustrated, disappointed, and angry when Robin leaves.

But really, this is rather unfair of Marian, because Robin did already declare himself in the cave (”we should be together”) without her reciprocation, so expecting him to take the first step again without any encouragement is a bit much.

Would a depressed person sit slumped against a tree all night?

“But by taking Marian in holy wedlock, I will wash away those crimes. Her pure heart will cleanse mine.” Yeah...not going to touch that one. I appreciate that there’s a lot going on with Guy and many, many people find it compelling, but I’m afraid it’s not really a narrative that interests me.

Speaking of pure hearts: Much. Faced with the same choice he was counseling Robin on, but with the additional wrinkle of knowing the king’s an imposter, he still decides to stop the wedding. “Her heart belongs to another” is A Moment and I don’t know exactly why but I find his very soft pleas following this and calling her “my lady” very affecting. 

She’s beauty and she’s grace, she punched Guy in the face.

“A trap. I knew it.” I haaaaate this line. NO YOU DIDN’T KNOW IT ROBIN YOU KNEW NOTHING OF THE KIND IF YOU HAD KNOWN YOU WOULD BE EVEN MORE OF A DICK FOR LEAVING UGGGHHHH.

“We can’t be seen together” Right in front of my salad two guards on front gate duty, who get front row tickets to the kiss. Look at them! They’re right there! This show drives me absolutely bonkers sometimes.

I do love this dress though.

“An audience with the king has been suspended!” Going out on one last pun.

Regardless, I really love this episode. Despite the lack of fallout from the emotional wringer they all went through, I can’t help but smile when the gang does their silly little jump for joy at the end.

#robin hood bbc #robin hood rewatch #1x13 a clue: no #long post

[bimswritings]

This Is Our Way

Ch.1

Summary: What happens when you make the mistake of thinking you can steel from a Mandalorian? You land yourself and job and a plethora of adventures and emotion you could never even dream of.  The question is; where will those emotions lead.

Warnings: Typical canon violence, NSFW implications and scenes later on

You can also read it on my Ao3 account.

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Clouds. Dark, impenetrable, depressing grey clouds are what greet you as soon as your eyes open, just like they have every day for years during your existence on the scrappy planet of  Corellia. Home to the most desperate and cruel criminals, along with the enslaved and weak civilians and captives. All mixed in with your average day citizen trying to get by.

A great place to live.

The sound of tie-fighters overhead is what first woke you, screaming as they made their morning flight overhead, acting as an ever present reminder of the Empire's presence and signaling the start of your day. Bones and joints crack in sync as you push yourself up, rubbing your eyes and crawling from the busted old weapons crate that acted as a poor supplement for a bed. Its lid laid discarded to the side, allowing the cool night air of one of the only dry nights of the month to flow in while you slept. The hard metal lining was barely tolerable, even when padded with the few scraps of fabric you had managed to snag over the years, but it was sturdy and the lid provided great protection from the ever present rain on the overcast planet.

Taking care not to trip while climbing from the enclosed space, you stumble out onto the main section of the roof and stare over the city as you stretch, trying not to cringe as certain bones popped back into place painfully. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and not even the fresh breeze that floated in from the sea could make it any more appealing.

Boring, industrial buildings stretched as far as the eye could see in varying colors of black and steel, hardly standing out against the horizon of equally dull colors only punctuated by the occasional crism Empire flag. In the middle of it all was the only decently maintained and sizable buildings on the planet, where the majority of ships for the Empire were produced. It was thanks to the presence of that one building that there was even an economy here, keeping it from turning into a more dreary and wet version of Tatooine, the outlandish world it was. The sight was enough to make your stomach churn, but had nothing on the aching pain that radiated from the organ and had you mind wondering when you had eaten last. Three, four days maybe? It didn’t matter. However long it was, the meager scraps you had managed to find behind the restaurant district of the wealthy were but a distant memory. It was this very hunger that drove you from your safe space, forcing you to climb down the pipes lining the outside of the building you resided on.

The metal creaked and groaned in protest under your weight, but you didn’t give it a second though, knowing there was nothing to worry about. You had been climbing along these fixtures for years, nimble hands and feet finding the smallest of purchases as you move along with ease.

When the ground was close enough you dropped, rolling through the impact to your feet and taking shelter behind an abandoned stall as you momentarily stumbled, vision swimming and black dots dancing before you. Force, you really need to get something to eat soon. Rainwater could only fill your stomach for so long before it lost its abilities to hold you over.

Peering around the corner, your eyes scanned the narrow alleyway, looking for any sign of stormtroopers or other rough characters that would cause trouble. You were never much of a fighter, but today especially was a day you were feeling particularly weak.

‘Alright. All I need to do is slip out, grab a couple of credits, and get back. It should be fine as long as I don’t run into-’

“Well well well. Look what we have here.” Leon’s voice spoke from behind, making you cringe and berate yourself for not being more careful. This was the last thing you needed to deal with, and Leon’s sickly smooth voice only served to grate on your nerves more as you turned to face him and his three lackeys, identifying them as Sho, Everett, and Corin.None as dangerous, but all as bad tempered as their leader.

Glacial blue eyes stared from pale skin beneath his shock of blond hair, a combo that drew ladies like flies to him. Pair that with pearly white teeth and he could have been a poster boy for some prep school on Coruscant. If not for the tattooed arms and green vest that held the insignia of a ranicore tooth, marking him as one of Sozin’s many street enforcers. His kind was the one you hated most. Cocky guys who thought that just because they were someone in some gang they had power over everyone else, not giving a second thought to those they hurt, be it man, women, or child. As long as they got a nice cut at the end of the day they were fine. Despite your hate for them, by all means joining a gang was the best way to survive here. It promised food, shelter, and constant work. All you had to do was give up your own self respect and humanity in return.

“The little Jawa had finally come out from her fortress. Tell me,” He smirked as the others formed a loose circle around you, effectively caging you in. “Get anything good lately.”

You wanted to spit at him, slap that stupid smirk off his face and leave him to go crying back to his boss. But you didn’t. Instead, you took a more casual, defensive stance, ready to get away the moment you had the chance. Slapping a fake smile on your face, you cocked an eyebrow in mock teasing.

“Please. If I had anything of interest I’m sure you of all people would know.” You were getting more nervous now, keenly aware of how close Sho was getting to your current position. Far too close for your liking.

“And with the patrols increased and punishments cracking down, things have gotten harder.''

“True, but I just never know what those sticky fingers of yours may manage to pick up. Your skill has a reputation after all.” His eyes skimmed over your body, not even trying to hide the way he was practically undressing you. The slimy bastard had been pining after you for years, ever since he had watched you lift a number of things from a trooper when you were both just young teenagers. He claimed it was for your skills but it didn’t take a genius to see he was looking for something more. “Maybe you could give me a live demonstration some time.”

And there it was.

You said nothing, only pushing yourself further against the cool metal of the wall behind you in an attempt to create some sort of distance in between you. Your stomach, the traitor it was, decided that it would be the best time to voice its own opinion, letting out a loud growl of protest that didn't go unheard.

Leon’s face took on a mask of concern and sympathy, and you might have fallen for it had you not known any better. His tone took on a softer, more whispery tone, like he was speaking to a stray feline. Not that far off if you thought about it.

“You look hungry. Why don’t you come back with me. I can get everything squared away with Sozin, and I promise, I’ll take real good care of you.”

His hand extended out in invitation, strong fingers that had ended the lives of so many gently relaxed, the other crossing behind his back in a mock gentleman pose, as if he even knew what being a decent guy even started with.

“C’mon. Think about it. No more empty stomachs or fighting for every scrap. You’d even have a nice bed to lay in at the end of the day. No more sleeping on the filthy streets.”

Scoffing, you summoned the last of your confidence, brushing past him and ignoring his invitation. “I’d rather take the streets than your blood soaked sheets any day.”

That should have been it, and it would have been for anyone else on just a code of respect among those here. But Leon wasn’t known for taking no for an answer. Before you could even make it  three steps his hand closed on your elbow, bringing you back closer to him. Despite all you twisting and pulling, his superior strength kept you close, breath fanning your skin as he spoke.

“Listen here, I’ve been more than kind in my advances. A saint some may even say, so you’re not going to walk away from me, understand? No your going to come back and-”

“Hey!” A shout from the end of the alleyway interrupted him, drawing all your attention as the squadron of storm troopers rounded the corner to the alley, falling in line behind their captain.”You there! What’s going on?”

At the sight of the local law enforcement and their blasters, Leon’s grip loosened a fraction. Just the smallest amount really, but enough for you to be able to slip from his grip and between Sho and Corin before they could stop you. You ignored the shouting of the officer, sprinting in the opposite direction and around the corner into the main streets of Corellia.

‘Good luck trying to find me now.’ You smirked, pulling your hood up to conceal your face as you effortlessly blended into the crowd, becoming just one of the thousands of faces that traveled through as you continued on your way. Now it was time for the real work to begin.

Just as with the seasons, your own hunting grounds changed, ever rotating through the different sectors in order to keep law enforcement off your tail. It was one of the first lessons you had ever learned; never hunt in the same spot for more than a few weeks.

Today was a fresh start in the port district, leaving an abundance of new and unaware targets. It was a popular place for travelers as well, who were especially naive, but even with that you knew today would be a challenge. It hadn’t been a lie when you told Leon that the troopers were cracking down. More patrols and increased severity of punishments had started to begin in order to ‘cut down the crime’, as your senator put it. Fat chance of that though, as one could argue that Corellia ran on crime. Still, the effort put forth was really putting the pressure on smaller people like you, who were just trying to survive, not to mention the street vendors and shop owners had installed their own new security measures in place, leading to an unfavorable combo that led to your current weak and hungry state. So you were here, looking for some oblivious fool to cop a few credits off from your perch just outside the mechanics.

As your eyes scanned the crowd, looking for visible money holders or those with liftable jewelry and other items, you saw him. He was hard to miss actually. The beskar he wore from head to toe shone proudly even without the light of the sun hidden above, speaking of its own durability and care shown by the owner. Alongside him was a pod, closed, and most likely carrying whatever supplies he had picked up from the market. The brown cape around his shoulders did nothing to hide the gun scross his broad back, nor the dozens of smaller weapons strapped to his person.

He stood tall above the crowd, most parting like water around a stone to avoid him, and it was no wonder. Even you had heard the stories about the Mandalorians. Fierce warriors and fighters who could track their prey to the ends of the galaxy. They were the best bounty hunters and hired guns on the market. You had been witness to more than one lowlife being pulled from their seat in the cantina by his kind, kicking and begging to no avail as they were carried away, dead or alive.

Teeth gnawing on inside of your cheek, you debated with yourself. On one hand, he was a high risk target, undoubtedly being used to these kinds of places and the people who lived here. Stealing from him would earn you a blaster shot to the head if caught, that is, if he were feeling merciful enough not to crush every bone in your body. But then, he was a bounty hunter. They always carried a lot of credits, and ones worth more at that. One swipe from him could set you up for days, if not weeks! He was also the only target you had seen open worth any value the entire day, and you weren’t sure you could go much longer without food.

You debated with yourself, going back and forth as you watched him grow closer to where you sat. If you didn’t make a decision soon you would lose your chance all together.

As if detecting your hesitance, your body made the decision for you, loosening another growl from its depths, prompting you forward and before you knew it you were on the move. Pulling a small guide book from your pocket, you pretended to be grossly interested in the useless thing, eyes moving to falsely skim the words as you carefully adjusted your path closer to his, threading between the crowd with as much ease as he cut through it.

The moments before were tense, each step leaving you feeling more electrified as adrenaline coursed through your body, only feeding your blind confidence as you counted down.

‘6..5...3..2..1….Now’

You pretended to stumble, tripping on your own feet as naturally as you would walk, veering from your course and bumping into the armored man. You winced slightly as your shoulder made contact with the metal, which made your grunt of pain that much more believable and distracting while your hands got to work. Like all bounty hunters, he kept his money in front of him, just slightly to the left of his leg. A tactic to prevent pickpockets like you that frequented the scenes they often found themselves in. Smart, but you had gotten used to this tactic before, and it was a simple swipe of your hand as it quickly entered and retreated the pouch, fingers closed around an unknown number of credits, all within a fraction of a second as you mumbled apologies, raising your opposite hand in distraction as your other moved to pocket your catch.

As soon as your own fingers left the pouch, you knew you were in trouble. Years of being on the streets had taught you when you had the upper hand in a situation or not, whether you were the predator or prey. In that moment, that small fraction of a moment, you went from poised victor to the most demure of prey.

And the man in front of you was the hunter.

His hand, even quicker than your own, moved to latch onto the retreating limb. The very one holding the credits you had thought had been yours.

Head snapping up to meet his, you were faced with an unfeeling gaze in the form of silver surrounding a small ‘t’ of inky darkness that prevented you from seeing his face. You tried to pull away, only to have his stern grip tighten even more, the leather of his glove squeaking in symphony along with the crackling of the joint. Yet you still refused to drop the credits, stubbornly holding onto them out of spite and fear. If he hadn’t seen them yet, there was no way he could indefinitely prove you had taken anything from him, though the way he focused on it told you he already knew the truth.

Kriffing hell. Why had you even thought this would be a good idea. He was a Mandalorian, and in your hunger driven brain you had somehow managed to convince yourself it would actually work. Well congratulations, you had the credits, but now you were as good as dead. If he didn’t decide to deal out his own justice and kill you then and there, surely he would turn you over to the stormtrooper.

The skin on your back tingles and warmed at the thought, memories of public whippings flashing in the back of your mind and doubling your heart rate and raising your panic even more.

Maybe you could still get out of this though. He was a man, as far as you could tell anyways, and all men were susceptible to one thing, hardened warrior or not. You could distract him, try to get a trade or compromise in return for forgetting about the situation. If not him then the clones. Maker knows they were always willing to pass up small crimes every once in a while in exchange for a way to sate their horniness. Though you had never tried the practice yourself, you had heard of numerous others getting off the hook that way. How hard could it be?

Your thoughts were interrupted by movement, bringing you back from your blind panic of plotting how to get out of this. The Mandalorian had tilted his head, t-visor still trained on your face as he observed you. Those around you were all too eager to ignore the situation, walking past with explicitly diverted eyes as they went about their business. The hand not holding yours moved, making you flinch back but with nowhere to go as he kept you trained in place. It moved towards your face and you braced, eyes scrunched and ready for the impact of a palm or fist making contact.

Yet, it never came.

Instead, the soft worn leather gently pressed against your face, fingers gently running along the curve of your cheek, highlighting the bone that protruded with hunger. The occasional scrape of his beskar along the skin makes you shudder, but if he even notices he doesn’t say anything, only continuing to stare as his hand tips your face every which way for him to examine. Then he just...let go. Without another word he had dropped his hands, stepping around and continuing on his original path, leaving you behind him, frozen in place and in a state of shock.

You could have stood there for any measure of time, be it seconds or minutes. Your brain was too busy trying to process what had just happened to even think about anything else. It was only when someone rudely bumped into you, almost knocking you to the ground, that you finally snapped out of it, and suddenly you were running. Feet pounding the uneven ground as you gained speed, faces flew past as little more than blurs as you continued to put more space between you and your should-have-been attacker. If it had been any other time you might have been proud of the speed you had, the burning in your lungs of little significance. Not even when you had seen Leon once again did you blink, blowing past as he called out and tried to grab you.

Before you knew it you were rounding the alley back to your little home, leaping more than climbing up the pipes with record speed as your feet barely touched the rickety metal. You practically dove into your little crate of a home, pulling the lid and locking yourself in darkness as you tried to sooth your pulse, taking deep breaths that did little to help. Absentmindedly, you began humming to yourself. A song so out of tune and unrecognizable it would have made a wookie weep, but it was what you needed as you pressed the burning and sticky skin of your forehead against the cool metal of the wall.

Eventually, after countless repetitions or the short tune, you managed to steady yourself, bringing enough sense back to realize you were still holding onto the credits from before, which were now gripped tightly in your hand. Enough to the point where the skin had turned a pearly white and your fingers hurt to move as you slowly unclenched them, revealing angry marks and even places where the rectangular currency had bit deep enough into the skin to draw blood. But oh what a beautiful sight it was.

One hundred credits laid in your fist, clustered together in a jumble of varying amounts and different kinds, but a total amount of one hundred. You normally only got this after a week of extremely successful hunting in the summer months. The sight of it now was enough to make you cry.

Despite the urge to go and get food from the nearest vendor, you knew better than to go out right away. For all you knew he had only let you go just to follow you back to your base, probably thinking he could turn you into the stormtroopers for a bigger ransom than what he lost, or loot your own place for anything you had stored up. Jokes on him if that was the plan, because he would only get back what you took from him.

The thought stayed stuck in the front of your mind, forcing you to stay tucked in your hiding space for the remainder of the day and keeping you awake through the night. Every little sound made you jump, convinced that you would once again find yourself at the receiving end of his burning gaze, the helmet he wore only masking his expression and leaving your fate uncertain. He never showed though, never ripped the lid off your container or dragged you out into the open.

By the time you managed to fall asleep, your body finally running out of its immense supply of adrenaline, the city itself had just begun to awaken below to the wee hours of the morning, and the fighters had just begun their morning rounds once again.

‘Maybe...maybe just a few hours of sleep.’ You thought to yourself, burrowing down into your small nest of blankets. What could be the harm?

Well, apparently a lot.

You had woken up in a panic, cracking the lid to see that the sky had already gone dark once again. Swearing to yourself, you emerged once again like a Nightshrike from its cave. Foregoing any normal rituals, you allowed your body to stretch itself as you moved, hustling from rooftop to rooftop, something you only did under the cover of night. The last thing you need is someone seeing you and discovering your home up top. You would never be able to get any peace after that.

You were in a rush though, and the thought of wasting a day of work didn’t bother you nearly as much as the thought of your favorite shop closing. With the amount of credits you had now, you wouldn’t have to worry about money for a while, so the only thought you had while the dim lights of the city flicked to life below was getting there as soon as possible. Who knows, maybe you’d even have enough to treat yourself to some fruit, an expensive and rare treat for anyone on the planet.

Skidding to a stop just before the end of the row, your eyes lit up at the sight of the shop still open, clearly readying to close. Shimmying back down to increasingly deserted streets, you were already drooling at the thought of biting into something and not having to wonder what it would taste like. No more than ten minutes later you were leaving, pockets now full of brick bread as the owner locked the doors behind you.

The plan was to only eat half of one on your way back, the nutrient rich and dense pastries giving you enough energy for the day in a single bite, but not even halfway back you found yourself licking the crumbs from your fingertips, hardly holding back from grabbing one of the four remaining loafs. Instead you reached into the opposite side and grabbed the meiloorun fruit you had managed to snag.

Now this was the main event.

Sinking your teeth into the soft skin, you nearly groaned as its taste exploded on your tongue, making your taste buds dance and sing as the sweetness became so intense it almost hurt. You still loved it.

Your stomach was full for the first time in forever, almost foreign as you had begun to forget the feeling. Juice dribbled down your chin as you continued on your way home, making a deliciously sticky mess to be wiped away and cleaned by your lips, intent on not letting a single morsel go to waste.

Thankfully the trip back was less eventful than your previous outing, helping instill an eerie yet calming silence over the city and prompting you to take your time.

You always enjoyed it up here on the roofs. Hardly anyone came up, not many having the same confidence and agility possessed by you and few others, and there was an ever present breeze up here that didn’t quite reach the lower levels. Not to mention the view it gave, which was one of the main reasons you had chosen a roof as your spot for a base camp. If only you could see the stars, but alas, the sight was as rare as greenery here, leaving it up to your own imagination to construct an array of bright lights on the top of your crypt.

Finishing the fruit, you paused at the edge of the building before your own. Small lights danced in the darkness, the occasional lamp illuminating a hustling figure and the street walkers that lined the corners of streets, calling to anyone in sight. The occasional search light of a patrol ship would shin above the buildings as it made its rounds over the city.

‘Must be looking for someone’ you mused, turning back to return home. No reason to get caught out tonight, especially when you were looking at a few days of relaxation.

As you turned, a familiar flash caught your eye, triggering a new taught panic response. You could hardly believe your eyes, rubbing them extra hard just to make sure you were seeing things right. But alas the sight before you neglected to change, unfortunately not a trick of the eye like you had hoped it was, and the Mandalorian you had thought you escaped the previous day continued walking down the dark alley.

You began to sweat backing away from the edge and further out of his line of sight, trying to still keep him in yours as you peered back over and tracked his progress as he got closer.

‘Kriff. I should have known he would want his money back.’

Panicking, you began going over all the escape routes near you. Ones through city street and sewers that would be much too small for him to fit through. Though, if he had tracked you here then chances were he would be able to find you wherever you went. This really wasn’t good. You might not even be able to go collect what meager possessions you had back in your box.

Then, materializing out of the darkness as if he were made of it himself, was Leon. He stepped into the path of the Mandalorian like he had no fear and, knowing how stupid he was, you thought he might actually not have any for the bounty hunter. But why would he when he was the primary enforcer for Sozin and still had his own backup, the three from earlier.

“Hey there.” He spoke in a voice that promised nothing but trouble, hands casually resting in pockets that undoubtedly concealed a weapon of some sorts. "I've been meaning to have a talk with you. The shiny Mandalorian warrior everyone is talking about."

This, you thought, was not good.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din dijarin #din dijarin x reader #x reader #star wars #fanfiction #star wars x reader #baby yoga #grogu #mando #mando x reader #boba fett #star wars fanfiction #the mandolarian

[makeste]

Alright, I know that most of the time, the heroes are good people. But Tartarus is definitely a crime against humanity, and that's really what I hold against them.

I agree Tartarus is pretty fucked up, but in an unfortunately true-to-life way. so for anyone who doesn’t know, Japanese prisons are insanely strict and regimented and honestly just plain creepy. they’ve come under fire for alleged human rights violations in the past, particularly regarding their excessive use of solitary confinement.

here are a few excerpts from a 1998 report from Amnesty International (warning for confinement, restraint, psychological abuse, and general dehumanizing treatment, although this is one of the least graphic sources I could find): 

In its report, the human rights organisation documents a number of recent cases where prison guards have inflicted severe physical and mental punishment on prisoners for breaking prison rules. Prisoners have been shackled in leather belts and handcuffs and put in so-called “protection cells” for days on end, often for little more than “answering back” to prison guards. The handcuffs are not removed, even at mealtimes or when the prisoner needs to use the toilet. Prisoners are treated more like animals than as human beings.

Prisoners may also be punished psychologically. “We have received many reports of prisoners being punished with solitary confinement for periods of up to two months. During this period, they must kneel in the same position all day and stare at a fixed point on the wall. They have no exercise or mental stimulation. It’s inhuman and should be stopped,” Mr Allison said.

Prison rules in Japan are notoriously complex and detailed. They govern every aspect of prisoners’ lives, including how they should walk, when they may talk and the sitting posture they should adopt in their cells. Prisoners are even forbidden from making eye contact with each other, or with the guards.

granted this article is 22 years old (you can google it, and it’s also linked in the wikipedia page on the penal system of Japan), but from my understanding, things don’t seem to have changed that much since then, even though some new laws have gone into effect. but anyways though, it sounds pretty familiar, doesn’t it? prisoners being isolated and shackled in leather belts and handcuffs, and made to sit silently and still for endless hours at a time? unfortunately this seems to be a case where the institutions in the manga are disturbingly similar to real life, and not very exaggerated at all.

in the heroes’ defense, they don’t run the prisons (I assume they’re administered by the Ministry of Justice as in real life Japan), or determine who gets placed in them. and the only characters we’ve actually seen in Tartarus have either been murderers (AFO, Stain, Muscular, Moonfish, and Overhaul), or people whose quirks are so extraordinarily dangerous that there’s really no other option to contain them aside from keeping them in the highest-security facility they have. I don’t know if Kurogiri is actually a murderer or not, but he willingly (putting aside the whole “him being a Noumu” issue) used his quirk to facilitate not one but two attacks on a school, where his fellow villains had every intention of murdering children, and so there’s no doubt a very real fear that if he were to ever escape, those children would not be safe.

also keep in mind that as of yet we have not seen any evidence that quirk-nullifying technology exists in the BnHA universe outside of the quirk-be-gone bullets. the concept of quirk-nullifying restraints, handcuffs, etc. is entirely a fandom invention as far as I’m aware. so without going to extreme measures like restricting prisoners’ movements and monitoring them constantly, there’s no way to prevent people like Kurogiri and All for One from using their quirks to escape. I’m actually under the impression that Kurogiri is almost constantly kept under sedation for just this reason, as I literally can’t think of another way to keep him from breaking out the second one of the guards slips up. if the heroes ever do capture Gigantomachia they’ll probably have to take similar precautions with him as well. and I imagine the same logic would have applied to Overhaul too, had Tomura not deigned to take a more practical approach.

anyway, so while it’s definitely a human rights concern (or a fictional one, anyway, but you know what I mean) nonetheless, this is probably by and large another instance of “do the least amount of harm” given the extraordinary danger posed if any of these particular villains happens to get free. I do wonder exactly what happened to some of the other villains though, like Mustard, that little snot-nosed kid who was with the Vanguard Action Squad and got captured during the forest training camp arc. now if he’s locked up in Tartarus as well, I’d have a much bigger problem with that. his quirk isn’t particularly dangerous since he himself is vulnerable to it (which I have to assume is enough of an incentive for him to not use it if he doesn’t have a gas mask). and he’s, what, 14, 15 at the oldest? that’s a case where he should be rehabilitated, not hauled away to rot in a maximum security facility. but as far as I’m aware his current status and location haven’t been confirmed, and the only verified inhabitants of Tartarus that we know of are the six people I named in the paragraph above.

anyway, so the whole Tartarus situation is one where I don’t see an easy resolution to be fully honest. it doesn’t look like the BnHA government is in any rush to reform their penal system, and it would be a huge challenge to do so in a way that doesn’t compromise the general public’s safety. that said, there are some hints that the heroes and the HPSC might be coming under fire depending on how the rest of this arc plays out, so it could be that Horikoshi is waiting to shed more light on Tartarus and its current inmates in one of the subsequent arcs (perhaps one which involves a prison break of some sort?). as it stands though, the part where I get stuck is that identifying a problem is only half the battle; the other half involves coming up with a practical solution. and unfortunately this is a case where that’s easier said than done. I’m curious to hear other people’s thoughts on this if anyone has another opinion!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks