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cosmicjoke · 4 months

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What’s your opinion on Levi’s value of life and his compassion towards others/their right to live — is it indiscriminate? Or does he only believe “good” or “innocent” people deserve to live, while the violent and cold blooded murderers and criminals can die? I want to say it’s the latter, but if it is — how does he reconcile with the fact that most people aren’t wholly good or wholly evil? There are “good” people who have done evil actions, and there are “evil” people who have done good actions. If it’s it is the latter, what does he use to judge people as worthy of value, of his compassion, and deserving of life?

Well, I've talked pretty extensively on this very subject, so I'll try not to drone on here, haha.

I think Levi's general, natural inclination is just to save lives, whether those lives belong to "good" people or "bad", but of course, definitions of good and bad vary and we can get into a lot of complex grey areas talking about that.

But when I say Levi's natural inclination, I mean his knee jerk reaction. He saves people all the time that he doesn't know and who have even been hostile or unkind toward him. An example I like to give is in "No Regrets" when, during his first training run on the SC's titan course, he saves that one scout from impaling himself and dying on one of the titan dummy's. This same scout had only moments before endangered Levi's life by cutting him off mid-flight out of nothing but petty jealousy at Levi's skill. But Levi still saved him without a moments hesitation. Another good example of this is during the Uprising arc, when Levi is confronted by the merchants in Trost, and they're lambasting and laying into him, being incredibly rude and insulting toward him. Levi's got no reason to care about these people or be kind to them. But when the carriage comes barreling through the streets, heading for them, Levi's first instinct is to push the merchants out of the way so they don't get run over, and to later go well out of his way to help them solve the problem of their economic depression. We see the same thing happen in the RtS arc, when Mikasa has her sword to Levi's throat. When Floch tries to intervene because he thinks Erwin should have the serum, Mikasa loses it for a moment and goes at him, seemingly with the intention of either killing him or severely hurting him, and Levi tries to stop her. This is a really interesting moment, because Levi didn't show anywhere near this kind of desperation or panic when his own life was being threatened, but as soon as Mikasa went for Floch, Levi reared up and shouted at her to stop. He was trying to protect Floch, despite not knowing him. Or we see Levi's reaction in Marley, when Ramzi's life is being threatened. Levi just picks him up and runs, despite the kid just robbing them. Another example, again, is the kindness he shows that scout who, in his grief, endangered the whole group by going back for his dead comrades body, during the Female titan arc. This scout called Levi inhuman just before and accused him of being heartless. And Levi's response to that was to give him Petra's patch. So his natural instinct, just who he is naturally, is someone who protects others.

I think Levi will only kill someone who's either directly threatening him, or threatening the people he cares about and is responsible for. I don't think, in general, questions of good or bad or deserving come into Levi's mind. If someone is a threat, he'll take them out. But even, for example, with Zeke, Levi didn't want to kill him because he was a bad person, he wanted to kill him because it was what he felt was his duty to his fallen comrades, what he needed to do to ensure they didn't die in vain. They died so he could kill Zeke. So while undoubtedly Levi thought of Zeke as a bad person, and no doubt thought of him as deserving of death for his cruelty and apathy toward life, his motivation for wanting him dead had nothing to do with his personal feelings. Levi, out of every character in the story, has the most respect for life and its inherent value. He doesn't take killing lightly. He doesn't ever try to frame it as anything but what it is. He doesn't try to paint it in more flattering terms or throw it into some heroic light. I think Levi knows killing is a tragedy, but sometimes necessary to protect oneself and others. I always point out how Levi's understanding of death and killing stands in such stark contrast to Zeke's, who very deliberately tries to frame his own acts of violence and murder as something heroic. He uses more flattering terms to describe what he does, calling his slaughter of people "mercy", saying he's saving them from suffering, etc... He tries to redefine his actions as something good, rather than just accepting them for what they are. Levi would never call killing another human being "good", he would never try to paint it as something positive, and he would never try to paint himself as heroic for committing an act of violence or for killing. He knows it's a terrible thing. He understands the weight of a lost life, whether that loss comes by his own hands, or in some other way. A good example of that is his interaction with Hitch, during the Uprising arc, when she's criticizing him for all the lives lost in Trost during the attempt to capture Annie. She accuses Levi of thinking he's some sort of hero, expecting him to try and defend himself and the SC for the disaster of that operation. But Levi doesn't. He only accepts her criticism and says "I know". He doesn't try to frame what happened as good or even necessary. He accepts it as terrible.

Levi has too much respect for life to ever consider the loss of it good, whether it's the loss of a good person or a bad.

Levi himself would, I think, fall into this category of a good person who does "bad" things. I've written a lot about that too. He's very violent at times, and a lot of the time, his first reaction to a problem is to use violence, because that's how he grew up and it's what he knows. But his violence doesn't define him and doesn't accurately express who he really is, which is an extremely kindhearted and compassionate man. As Dimo Reeves describes him, "awkward but kind". That's Levi. He isn't good at socializing, he isn't charming, he doesn't really know how to woo or entice. His first instinct is to become physical when things aren't going the way he wants or needs them to. But at his core, he's pure of heart and intention and only wants to help others.

So, yeah, I don't think questions of who does and doesn't deserve his help ever really comes into Levi's mind. He just helps people, good and bad. That's just who he is. And really, in the end, that's what makes him a hero.

#Levi Ackerman #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin #analysis #meta #commentary

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ruby-whistler · 3 years

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Your c!dream post came on my dash and while I can definitely agree with the main point (torture is wrong no matter who it happens to) some of the contents of that post were a bit bothering to me.

the fact that you implied that your concerned for people who really hate c!dream and therefore see the torture as payback is really crossing a line. I really hope I misinterpreted that because it sounds like your implying that you think those people would dehumanize people in real life. That is a big assumption to make my friend, not something you can just throw around because you see someone talking bad about a character you emphasize with.

And like I said, I’m saying that while agreeing with your main point. I can say that your right about that being something we shouldn’t do while also knowing that this is about a Minecraft roleplay revolving around a character who canonically abused a 17 year old. The accusation your making is not something you should throw around. Just like people shouldn’t accuse Dream apologists who say bad stuff about c!tommy of being real life abuse apologists. There’s a huge difference about being attached to a character and saying something dumb and doing these things irl.

Also I thought we were past referring to lmanburg as colonization? I’m not sure if that’s what you were doing but That’s a real thing that effects people and not something you can just pin on a couple of white streamer men roleplaying. Someone more equipped then me can explain why they are very much not comparable at all, and why it’s bad to compare it, ill probably butcher it. I saw a good post about it somewhere.

And then onto the stuff that’s more story based and doesn’t matter as much:

- dream very much did plan to keep tommy in the prison cell for life, like I’m pretty sure he flat out said it or at least very heavily implied it during the confrontation, someone probably has a clip.

- I can agree that Sam wasn’t manipulated by dream, but he does have trauma from him, in fact it’s a big part of his arc. Dream would brag about what he did to tommy in exile, laughed in his face after killing tommy, and often screamed at him threatening to kill him as well. It affected sam greatly and is what started his spiral.

- There are other things in your post that I disagree with to some extent but honestly debating lore things isn’t what I’m here for. So we can agree to disagree. I’m not really to concerned about the lore stuff.

just like you were talking about being careful about what you are saying about c!dream because it can hurt people, I will also say to be careful in what you say about c!dream in his favor because it can also hurt people. Please do not forget he very canonically abused, murdered, and threatened to murder teenagers. That’s a touchy subject, especially because it was displayed in such a raw manner. Is he deserveing of abuse because of it? Of course not. Is he unworthy of growth or change? Of course not. Does that mean people have to forgive him or like him or sympathize with him? No. No one is morally required to sympathize with a character, as long as your not saying gross things about them. ( like claiming that they deserve torture! )

Someone saying something in the heat of the moment about a character who reminds them of their abuser does not justify calling them real life dehumanizers, or claiming they are prone to it. It’s not cool. And, I and feel like In liking c!dream (or any character who has done something really morally wrong) you have to make sure to be respectful towards people who have been in those situations. You can like a character without excusing their actions. Not saying your doing that, just a blanket statement.

Also, please take care of yourself. If seeing people criticize or say bad things about a character you like is causing you genuine distress, please take a break. I tend to hyperfixate and project and I know that sometimes it can be a really harmful thing. It helps a lot to take a deep breathe and step away for a few minutes. This is a reminder to everyone else as well to always tag crit. And to clarify, I’m not trying to like drag you through the mud for anything I disagree with in your post. Like trust me I get heat of the moment reactions and not completely thinking through everything you write down. And just blatantly not knowing that something isn’t cool to say. I just want to make sure it’s known that hey, maybe people shouldn’t say _.

If there’s anything in my post that’s wrong I apologize, I’m open to respectful criticism. And also just to finish this off, I know getting critical asks can be upsetting, so if you are genuinely made upset, angry, or anxious by this ask, please just leave it be. Don’t respond, or take a breather before you do. I’m saying this because like I said I just came across this post, I don’t know you or how you tend to react to things so I don’t want to start a huge thing. Just giving my thoughts and crit.

And also because having people yell/be really rude at me makes me very genuinely anxious! Even if it’s anon. Please keep that in mind if you respond (you don’t have to, it’s up to you) You can respond and disagree however much you like, just please don’t be a jerk about it cause I’ll probably cry lol (seriously tho like I said I’m sensitive)

Alright, so first as a quick disclaimer, I’m going to out a summary of the original post’s points, just to ensure that we’re on the same page;

The post does say:

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because it continuously hurts people who relate to and/or sympathize with him, also dehumanization in general is an inherently wrong mindset

- don’t attack people who sympathize with him because he’s a victim of abuse besides other things

The post never says:

- you cannot hate c!Dream and not sympathizing with him is wrong

- the things c!Dream has done are to any degree excused

- don’t dehumanize c!Dream because he’s a good person

- people who dehumanize c!Dream are real life abuse apologists

If you read the post and didn’t get these points from it, i advise you to reread it as I made pretty much all of these abundantly clear.

I absolutely never said anything about real life abuse apologism. I continuously put (fictional) in front of things to make that point. I don’t know how you got that from the post.

Dehumanization is wrong. Dehumanization of fictional characters on a large scale to the point where people will excuse his abuse is wrong and it hurts people and I will speak out about it. It doesn’t mean people will dehumanize people irl or that they are prone to it, but it’s still wrong.

I never said L’manberg was colonization. I said some people who have had their country colonized relate to him because he had his home torn apart and is desperate to return it back to its original state. This is a completely valid reason to relate to him as it is a pretty big part of the character.

He said he would “put him in the prison”. I don’t remember him saying it would be forever, but he could’ve said that, however I’d like a clip first. He never said he would be stored in the inhumane, main cell, and it makes a lot more sense that he wouldn’t be in there 1) because Dream said it was only a security measure 2) the prisoner was supposed to be able to move around the prison.

I don’t care that the abuser was “traumatized” by the abuse victim telling him of his actions. If I was being tortured mentally and mistreated and neglected physically by a person who hates my guts for weeks I too would probably threaten him. It didn’t start his spiral. His spiral was caused by corruption and possibly hatred, not being “hurt” by c!Dream. c!Dream didn’t cause himself to be abused, that was fully c!Sam’s decision, and saying otherwise is victim blaming (not saying you did that, just putting this point out here).

I do not forget the bad things he’s done. I was there. I saw it. I hated him for it. I still sympathize with him. I still believe he deserves better. I still believe he deserves to get better. I 100% agree with the point that it’s wrong to say someone is required to feel sympathy, as long as they don’t dehumanize him and harass people who do. That was the literal point of the post.

I am one of the many c!Dream fans who get constantly triggered because of how overwhelming the dehumanization is in the community. It’s not being hypersensitive, and I really hope you’re not implying that. It’s a very real issue that should be solved so that people don’t have to “take breaks” because of it.

I don’t care if people hate him or criticize him. I genuinely couldn’t care less. He did disgusting things. I’m used to it. But it is normalized in the community to say stuff about the character that is genuinely triggering, and would be to anyone if people were saying it on a large scale about their favorite character.

Hope this didn’t come off as too aggressive, I have anxiety and I didn’t want to let my feelings bleed into this because that wouldn’t be good for me. Wish you a nice day.

#tw abuse #tw torture #abuse apologism ment #c!dream neg #(in ask)#my asks #crit anon 2 #ask to tag #long post

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deiliamedlini · 3 years

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WIP Wednesday

I don’t have any context for this. I think it was meant to be part of my Modern BOTW AU, but it’s not where it belongs, so I wonder if I just liked the idea of Link and Zelda being kind of hostile with each other rather than just silent or one sided anger. Idk. Have this scene of Zelda being bitter and also kinda thirsty, and Link being unapologetic. It’s probably not going anywhere at this point, it’s just sitting in my folder lol

~~~

Zelda stood outside the door, gathering up her courage. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done such a thing as barge into a room uninvited. Certainty not to one of her guards. Perhaps she’d scared a friend or two in the past for fun, but it was so rare that she couldn’t even remember.

So, when she flung the door to Link’s room open, letting it slam into the other side with a hard thud, she wasn’t surprised to see Link sit up with a start, reaching for something on his nightstand before stopping and taking her in, realizing she was a threat, but not the kind he’d been expecting to see.

Zelda looked at the weapon he was reaching for, reminding herself that scaring her guard was probably not the smartest idea.

“Link, get up! I have been in need of an escort for hours now.”

But she finally took a moment to assess the state he was in.

Sure, Zelda knew that all of her guards were well trained and fit. She had admired the way shirts fit on her appointed guard. So entering his room first thing in the morning, she didn’t think she’d learn that he slept shirtless, and in his quick motion to reach for his weapon, his torso was completely exposed. She’d admired his arms when his sleeves were rolled just so, so she’d had an inkling that, despite his attitude, despite his indifference and hostility, he was at least something interesting to look at.

But gods, she hated herself when she lost her train of thought; it had vanished in a haze as her eyes trailed along his muscles, following the dips and bends in his abs, obscured only by the distraction of fine blonde hair on his chest.

But then she noticed what he was doing.

He’d dropped his weapon and was clutching his head, pressing his eyes. He was unfocused and sluggish. No words she’d ever thought to use to describe him.

Taking another step into his room, she could smell the faint remnants of a potent reek of alcohol.

“Are you hungover?” she asked, unkindly ensuring that her voice was as shrill as possible.

Link finally seemed to realize his state, and pulled the blanket up to obscure some of his bare chest, though his arms and shoulders were still on display.

He looked like he debated lying for a moment, but resignation hit him hard. “Yes, Princess. I am.”

“Why?”

Link tried to maintain some semblance of professional decorum, but he realized with more and more clarity that his situation was not overflowing with dignity. “I’m off today. And I was last night as well. If you’re looking for an escort, I believe it’s Shiro who’s on call for you today.”

“What were you doing to end up in such a state?”

Link pushed his hair back from his face before giving the blanket another tug so he could more discreetly cover himself. “Drinking, Your Highness.”

“Don’t insult me; I gathered that much.”

He seemed to realize his misstep, and some life sparked into his eyes. “Of course, forgive me. I was with several other off-duty guards at Telma’s Bar for most of the night.”

Zelda watched his eyes flick off of her for a moment. She could see that there was a lie in there. Only with her could he not hide his deceptions.

“Telma’s… for most of the night. Did you… did you sleep with someone there? Is that what happened?”

“Princess…” Link breathed, holding his head again. “Are you really asking me that?”

“Yes! I demand to know what my closest guards are doing on my floor. My door is right there! You’re rude and inconsiderate. What did you do?”

His eyes narrowed at her accusation, and he stood up, unconcerned for his state of undress, instead, challenging her. “Yes, I was with someone last night, but I would never be stupid enough to bring someone here. My job is to protect you, not to be an inhuman statue who watches you live while my life passes me by. I have enough of that expectation on me already, and I live with it. So yes, on my nights off, I enjoy something to drink and some company. Things that others get to enjoy at a whim. My life doesn’t allow that. My life is meant to be thrown away at the sign of the Calamity so I go out and live a little on my days off. So yes. Yes. I did sleep with someone. And yes, I am hungover. And for once, Princess, no; it’s none of your business.”

#wip wednesday #link #zelda #zelink #zelink?#legend of zelda #botw au #breath of the wild

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silenthillmutual · 4 years

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daniil dankovsky is autistic and here’s why:

because i’m autistic and i said so

i kid, obviously. what sort of autistic person would i be if i wasn’t read to back up my silly little claim with an overly long post of evidence a total of three people will read? (hi ned hi jordan hi raven :))

i’m aware that this is cringey because adults aren’t supposed to have autism or interests or talk about either of those things, but this is my blog and you are free to block me if the cringe is too much for you.

these are some things i picked out from the DSMV’s diagnostic criteria, found on the CDC website:

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

abnormal social approach

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

defecits in […] understand[ing] relationships

difficults adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

repetitive motor movements or speech

rigid thinking patterns

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input

there’s also some misc. stuff not in the diagnostic criteria (though it may be in the adir or gars-3) i thought was worth noting.

important note from the diagnostic criteria: “symptoms cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning”. i’d say that in his case, they do.

spoilers for pathologic classic, pathologic 2, and the marble nest

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

in bachelor route of classic, daniil

seems completely oblivious to eva making advances toward him, to the point where she complains to him that he’s ignoring her in favor of asking questions about simon.

seems surprised when people mention maria being in love with him, despite outright asking her a couple of times if she’s flirting with him.

not to mention the fact that he asks her that at all.

his inability or resistence to making connections with others is typically considered one of his character flaws. although it is not outright stated in the dsmv criteria, one trait of autism and other neurodivergencies is “having extremely high or extremely low empathy” - and daniil, despite being a doctor, lacks empathy. which is not to say he doesn’t care at all. i think that he does, but is terrible at showing it.

for example, this scene from marble nest:

Sticky: You must feel terrible… right? That’s fine. I forgive you. You just got confused… Adults always do. Daniil: Oh yes, adults are always occupied with the most asinine nonsense. Like feeling anxious that a bunch of urchins keep roaming the streets, putting themselves in mortal danger!

daniil clearly cares about sticky’s wellbeing (and the wellbeing of the kids looking after him, though he’s not cognizant that he’s in a coma), but his way of showing it is… kind of by being a jerk. all of which bleeds into the next item on the list

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

he has no problem sharing his interests, but in both pathologic classic & pathologic 2, daniil speaks with a flat affect - which is to say that he lacks intonation. the words we read him saying may be dramatic or come across as passionate, but the actual voice reading his lines is very monotone, which may contribute to being read as lacking emotion.

and in pathologic 2, he has a voiceline lamenting not telling “her” (eva?) how he felt

in marble nest, he’s teased by the tragedians for being “heartless”:

Tragedian: Maybe. Possibly. But it’s useless to explain to a heartless man. …Take heart, Excellency! If you ever find it, that is. And then come back to us… Even though it all sounds like a rather implausible turn of events.

abnormal social approach

daniil has a tendency to say things that are tactless, odd, or just socially inappropriate. i probably don’t need to point out too many examples, as i think it’s fairly obvious - these are the things people love to pick at when it comes to him, but i do have a few in mind. like, for example, from haruspex route in classic:

Haruspex: What of the antibodies essential for making a serum? Bachelor: I don’t know for sure yet, I’ll send you a report in a few hours. Don’t go about cutting people’s hearts out for your panacea until then. It’s a… controversial solution, you know… Haruspex: What?! Do you even hear yourself? Bachelor: Sorry! I meant no offence… it was just a momentary lapse of… well, you know. Haruspex: None taken.

until artemy points out, daniil doesn’t seem to be aware he just said something rude. even with therapy, picking up on social cues doesn’t come naturally to people with autism, so we tend to say things that come across as rude or strange to others without realizing we’ve put them off. we tend to lack a “filter” that tells us when things are or are not appropriate to say. even when we may recognize it, the rules may not make any sense to us. for example, it makes very little sense that allistics favor politeness over honesty.

i think the glaringly obvious abnormal social approach in pathologic 2 is him threatening to hold artemy at gunpoint to get in the house, which is just overkill, but my personal favorite comes on day 7, when he’s complaining about the orders aglaya has given him. artemy stops him to say he doesn’t understand what daniil wants from him, to which daniil replies:

From you? Oh, nothing. I was just sharing.

to daniil, they were just having a normal conversation. but some part of this - his tone or his words or maybe even his body language - didn’t give artemy the impression that this was supposed to be a regular conversation. (we could, in fact, attribute the same idea to artemy here; why didn’t artemy pick up that this was a normal conversation? the reason i count it towards daniil is because artemy doesn’t seem to have this problem with anybody else. for the record: i don’t think artemy is neurotypical either.)

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

it’s hard to get proof of this in video games, but i will say i think it’s very funny that in pathologic 2 daniil’s idle animations are “pacing”, “sitting like he desperately wants to start bouncing his knees but is stopping himself from doing it”, and “standing unnaturally still” - but there you go. i don’t know anything about making gifs, or i’d gif this one specific talk menu idle he does where he holds eye contact for about three seconds, looks away uncomfortably, and then looks back out of the corner of his eyes.

deficits in […] understand[ing] relationships

mostly examples from his route in classic:

when the army arrives, he can claim to block that aglaya, whom he’s known for two days, is his best friend

he seems baffled by the fact that everone is smitten with maria and working with her, and seems equally baffled by the idea that she’s smitten with him

despite eva implying on day two that she is in a relationship with andrey, is completely blindsided by the revelation on day 6, asking him, “How in the world is she ‘your woman’?”

i’d also like to use his sign-off on his letter to artemy, day 2 of the haruspex route - he signs it as “Your friend (hopefully)”. i know i’m not the only autistic person who used to ask people if we were friends or not. pro tip, if you’ve never done this: don’t. it really weirds people out.

difficulties adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

the fact that he stands out is blatantly obvious even in pathologic 2 and in the haruspex route of classic. people will comment on him being an outsider and mention that they don’t trust him. but you can watch it happen in real time in his route, because he never fully acclimates to the town. he says something about this to aglaya on day 7:

Bachelor: Was there any particularly notable backstory? I’m deadly tired of all these people. They’re inhuman. They tell the future, believe in walking zombies, and die in all manners of painfully abnormal ways. Inquisitor: Your line of t hinking is obviously falacious - and I was implying something rather mundane. I promise you, no one can really tell the future around here: and neither are deaths inspired by third parties uncommon. Mysterious phenomenons do occur here sometimes… but hardly more often than anywhere else.

actually, there’s an example of him saying something similar to artemy on day 5 in pathologic 2:

Damn this town… I feel I’m trapped in a nightmare. The absurdity of it all… There’s no one to talk to. Everyone’s so volatile. They all seem to want to help, but… their help is worse than hostility.

some of this can be explained by the town’s strangeness, but keep in mind that the first instance happens after he’s been there and involved in the ongoing for an entire week, and the second at nearly a week in. clearly he’s struggling to adjust to the changes.

it’s also worth noting that his reason for fleeing the town in the nocturnal ending?

I have no place here anymore.

This town is no longer mine. No longer human. No longer rational. It doesn’t… accept the likes of me anymore.

repetitive motor movements or speech

it’s harder to see the motor movements in classic, but remember how i pointed out earlier that he paces? pacing is a form of stimming. murky, who is canonically autistic, can also be found pacing as one of her idle animations. having stock phrases for characters to speak when you come near them already ticks off the box on “repetitive speech”, but that by itself doesn’t really cover what they’re talking about - echolalia.

but you know what this does fit with? “‘quoting’ things(communication is HARD! sometimes we need to take shortcuts and use someone else’s words)“

i’ll get to the more obvious example in a minute - i want to point out something that happens very early in pathologic 2 first. you know how you first meet him and artemy accuses daniil of trying to guilt-trip him by asking if it’s true that isidor would still be alive if artemy had come sooner? keep in mind that he spoke to rubin first. and this is what rubin says, when you get a chance to talk to him:

Yesterday, I was told you had killed your father.

That’s not far from the truth, Burakh.

You betrayed him. You left when he needed you most. He cried out for your help, but you didn’t care. He was in peril, and you were too busy elsewhere, He believed, truly believed, that your arrival would put an end to his troubles. And, as always, he was right.

i’m not saying this was necessarily the game’s intent, but it’s entirely possible daniil is parroting back to artemy exactly what rubin said to him.

now, for what you’re probably expecting in this section: the latin. people love to refer to his use of latin as “random”, so let’s clear that up:

it is not latin daniil has made up. with the exception of latin that is mispelled in the game’s texts, all of them are proverbs or otherwise common sayings. you can find most of them on the wikipedia list of latin phrases, or through a 3-second google search.

he’s a doctor. him having taken latin isn’t anymore strange than a lawyer taking latin. in fact, if you pay attention, artemy also took latin; this is implied when artemy tells him he’s always sucked at it.

his uses of latin actually aren’t random at all. what he says fits the situation, and sometimes is used in place of him having to come up with something to say on his own.

prime example:

Forget it, Burakh. I have a splitting headache. If you have no urgent business, then we’ll talk later. Later, later… Qui non proficit, deficit.

qui non proficit, deficit - he who does not advance, loses ground. in other words, “i’m sorry, but i really do need to keep working.” one of his voice lines.

as for why he doesn’t translate the latin: it probably wouldn’t even occur to him to. these are not obscure sayings. the utopians all have a certain degree of education - what would he need to translate them for?

this bleeds into something that isn’t really mentioned, but that i’ve found i have a lot of trouble with in everyday life. autistic people have a tendency to either overexplain (and then have everyone get mad at you because they feel you’re being condescending) or underexplain (and have everyone get mad at you because you haven’t explained anything). the latin would be a case where it feels like a justified underexplanation. you’ll notice that when it comes to anything scientific, he tends to do the reverse, and overexplain. this also happens in classic, whether artemy has asked him to clarify or not.

rigid thinking patterns

the thing i had marked for this was simply his strict adherence to western medical practices and refusal to acknowledge the supernatural, even when it seems obvious - he has a conversation in his route in classic with yulia about this, and that is in fact how he manages to get to her: by asking saburov if there are any other logical skeptics in town. it should be noted they seem to be breaking with this in pathologic 2, where one of his voicelines is “I’m no positivist. There are things in this world beyond our mundane perception.” i have no idea where they’re planning on going with that.

there’s also a quote floating somewhere around twitter about him having been raised by a military man, and militaries tend to enforce very rigid routines. you could say the same thing of block - who (in classic at least) i also have my suspicions about.

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

special interests. the one that should obviously come to mind is thanatology, though i would argue latin if not classics in general is a special interest of his as well - in addition to his usage of latin, he also references pericles in the marble nest and was probably refering to the roman occupation of haruspicy in addition to augurs in the same text. he also makes references to shakespeare more than once in both marble nest and pathologic 2.

hyper- or hyperoreactivity to sensory input

i don’t have much written down for this one but there seem to be several places in classic especially where he asks npcs to stop shouting at him. we don’t really have the privilege to know their volume or how they’re interacting with him, but i think it’s also worth noting that he’s the only one of the healers who wears gloves. in pathologic 2 he’s the only named character i can think of who wears them at all. his thing in the lucid dream about the brain being “a border”? gloves are his border, as is his jacket, which may be worn to cut down on sensory issues.

he will also sometimes seem to “overreact” to the situation at hand - such as in classic, when some dogheads mispeak and say that daniil is going to “sterilize” them, and instead of understanding that they must have mispoken, freaks out over the idea that they think they’re going to be… well… sterilized. or in haruspex route, when his reaction to the inquisitor arriving is to threaten suicide.

miscellaneous

he never goes anywhere without that carpet bag. we don’t see it in pathologic 2, but we do hear about it and he doesn’t let it go for a second in classic - not even in the cutscenes where he’s using the microscope. his bag could be a comfort item.

“getting very attached to things like inanimate objects” could work for the bag - but you know what it actually fits the bill much more obviously? the polyhedron. in the haruspex route he recognizes that it’s a lost cause, but he’s still too attached to it to let it go.

in classic at least, daniil is absolutely terrible at lying. most autistic people either are not good at lying, or feel uncomfortable or anxious with having to lie. when he’s asked by yulia and the kids in the polyhedron to lie to block (for different reasons) he’s clearly uncomfortable with the idea that it’ll work. and when it actually comes time to come up with a way to lie to block about why he needs five rifles, your options are to either buckle and tell him the truth, or simply say that you need them for “self-defense”. block believes that you’re not lying to him, but daniil can’t come up with any embeleshments to explain why he needs what he’s asking for.

Commander: Are you hiding something from me? Bachelor: No.

he comes across as naive to other characters. in classic, capella has a voiceline saying, “The Bachelor is not smart. Intelligent, yes… but not smart.” in Pathologic 2, Daniil complains that Aglaya takes him for “a useless dreamer”. he’s also easily used by the Kains to fulfill their endgame in classic.

my final, and absolute favorite: he takes things way too literally. autistic people (and adhd people, from my understanding) have a hard time differentiating jokes and sarcasm. so my favorite moment in marble nest is a case of him taking that earlier advice - to “take heart” literally, by bringing the tragedians a literal human heart:

Tragedian: Oh… Excellency. What a sordid sight! Sorry for underestimating you. You definitely do have… how shall I put it… a creative touch. But this is pure madness. You can’t take things so literally! Daniil: You wanted me to come back to you with an open heart. Well, here I am. …It looked too fitting to be a coincidence.

your mind map, after this, updates to say “I misunderstood the tragedians.”

conclusion

people don’t stop being autistic with age and i think he’s a good example of what it’s like to be in your late 20s and be autistic. i’m sure i missed things as i haven’t finished haruspex route of classic yet and there may just be some other things he does or says that i missed! if anyone has anything to add they think fits i would love to know, thank you for your time :)

#icarus.txt #autistic daniil dankovsky #daniil dankovsky #pathologic meta #ok to rb but i'm not interest in your ''but he's just weird!'' arguments #please keep in mind that this post is about autism #and that this is written by someone w autism...#popular

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simplyshelbs16xoxo · 3 years

Text

'Madder Than a Hatter' Chapter 2: Where is my Mind?

FFN | Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

Hatter looked so deeply into the looking glass, it was almost as if he was willing himself to see the world on the other side. “Alright. Wish me luck, Charlie.” He stepped up to it, and—

“Stop!” Jack Heart shouted. “I think I know where she is.”

Charlie bowed. “Your Highness.”

With a turn and a hop down, Hatter waited for Jack to elaborate.

The King looked a bit worse for wear, worry lines etched in his face. “She’s in the Wastelands.”

“No,” Hatter muttered in disbelief. “You don’t mean—“

“I’m afraid so,” Jack replied.

If Alice was in the Wastelands, she was in imminent danger. There is where the old asylum still stands, decrepit and abandoned. It came into existence in an even darker period of Wonderland’s history—a time, which thankfully, Hatter hadn’t lived through. The silence in the Looking Glass Hall was deafening. Everyone knew how perilous it was over there. The Wastelands fed on fear, and anyone who used it as a weapon was inhumane, even more so than Jack’s mother.

Charlie appeared paler than usual, but despite his fear, he would do whatever he could to help Alice. “We better get going, Harbinger.”

“Yes, of course,” Hatter replied, his voice breaking. If Alice was still alive, she was very strong, indeed. He had to believe she was still breathing even if he hardly could breathe, himself.

Alice was hypnotized by the flames of the fire; bright orange and yellow, the logs crackling and popping. She felt another’s hand on hers, squeezing it affectionately. Looking up, she was captivated by his eyes, the way he gazed at her. She loved him, but she couldn’t remember his name. It kept getting lost, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was just happy to be with her. “I wish I could stay here with you.”

He smiled sadly. “As much as I wish that too, you can’t. You need to break free, Alice. Don’t take the pills.”

“I stopped, but it didn’t work,” she told him, her fear reflected in her eyes. “Have I truly gone mad?”

“No,” he said softly. “Someone is trying to hurt you. Wake up, Alice. You need to wake up.”

Gasping for air, Alice woke forcefully. Tears slid down her cheeks and then she saw the blood. She screamed.

By the time Charlie and Hatter made it to the Forest of Wabe, it was already dusk. They decided to at least travel to the old camp so they would have a place to sleep. Upon arrival, Hatter took in everything, memories of his time here with Alice invading his mind. This is where they felt safe during that time, where they argued, and where he fell in love with her. He climbed off his horse, heading straight for the bed where she had once slept.

“I shall hunt for borogove,” Charlie announced. His face fell at the sight of his heartbroken friend. “Will you be alright, Harbinger?”

“Me? Yeah.” His voice went up an octave. It was an obvious tell that he was just trying to mask his pain. “I’ll be fine. Go on. I’ll start a fire.”

Hatter went to pick up a few logs when he heard a mischievous laugh. It almost sounded like it was coming from…above? He waited, staying silent for a few moments, but nothing else happened. With a shake of his head, muttering about imaginin’ things, he began building the fire. Just as the spark took, he heard the laugh again. This time when he looked up, there was a bright, wide smile floating between the branches of a tree.

Stripe by stripe, the Cheshire Cat revealed himself. “Hatter,” he greeted. “Why so glum?”

“As if you don’t know,” he accused. “You know everything that goes on in Wonderland, but you always keep it to yourself.”

Cheshire twirled, his head remaining still. “A shame about poor Alice,” he remarked, noticing the way Hatter stiffened at the mention of her. “Such a waste of a most curious mind.”

Hatter rolled his eyes. “Enough! Are you gonna be straight with me, or not?”

With a grin, Cheshire presented himself flat as a board and straight as an arrow at Hatter’s feet.

“For cryin’ out loud,” he said, kicking a small rock toward the fire.

“In all seriousness, Hatter, I have helped more than you know,” Cheshire informed him. “All you have to do is listen.”

Before Hatter could get another word in, the blasted cat had disappeared without a trace. “Bloody nuisance.”

As Charlie slept in his hammock, Cheshire’s words were keeping Hatter awake. He was determined to find some deeper meaning in them. There usually was, though it was never obvious enough for his liking. He felt his eyelids drooping, sleep ready to take over until it hit him. “Charlie!!”

Charlie fell out of his hammock. “What is the meaning of your rude awakening?!”

Hatter jumped out of the bed. “I know where Alice is: the old asylum in the Wastelands.”

Charlie’s eyes widened with fright. “But…that’s certain death. Who, with the exception of the old queen, would want to take Alice there?”

“Mary Heart is dead, but perhaps, she had a few loyal supporters. It could be them,” Hatter suggested. “It’s a long shot, but I’m more concerned with finding Alice than who is behind it.”

The old knight nodded in agreement. “But first, sleep. We need all of our strength, Harbinger. All is not lost yet. The Oracle…it tells me Just Alice is still alive. I can feel it deep within my bones.”

In the past, Hatter had scoffed at the old man’s trust in the black arts, but it had helped them on several occasions. If the Oracle said she was alive, then he knew she was. The only question was, how long did they have before it would no longer be true?

The blood was everywhere; on the floor, on the walls, on her hands. Before she knew it, she was on her knees beside the body in the middle of it all. It was him…the man in her dreams. Why couldn’t she remember his name? Why couldn’t she remember him? Surely they once knew each other. Alice couldn’t help but feel he was an important piece of this puzzle.

She cried out in anguish, her heart recognizing the agonizing pain the sight before her caused. “Not him. Please not him.” Uncaring if she would be soaked in the blood, Alice reached out, holding his face between her hands. “Don’t leave me. You can’t leave. Come back to me.” Nothing. She knew it was futile, but being mad with grief, logic was unrecognizable.

Briefly distracted by the screams from the other cells, Alice looked over at the tray by the door. The pills still sat in the little plastic cup, but the water made her realize how parched she was from screaming. When she looked back down, the body and the blood were gone. Slowly, she sat back and rubbed the tears from her eyes. “I’m not mad. I’m hallucinating, but I’m not mad.” Grabbing the cup of water, she downed it quickly. It soothed her throat, but she felt funny.

Eyes wide, she dropped the cup to the ground. Alice took a pill and tentatively licked one side of it. She laughed in disbelief, sounding almost crazed. It was a sugar pill. It was actually made of sugar. The water—there was something in it. Whatever it was, it must be causing her hallucinations. Avoiding the pills never helped, but she always drank the water. Who knew how long it would take to leave her system. One thing she knew for certain was that she needed to get out of this place.

#syfy alice #madder than a hatter #alice 2009 #my fanfiction

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foursideharmony · 3 years

Text

The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 9)

Summary: It's time to end this...

Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR

Content Warnings: Swordfighting, a wee bit of blood, swearing, total exhaustion

Word Count: 2,738

Read on AO3: here

There was no obvious way to cross. Roman stopped with his toes nearly brushing the surface of the water. “JADIS!” he called across the distance. “Usurper! I, Prince Roman, do hereby challenge you!”

For the briefest instant, a paper-white face appeared in one of the high windows of the castle, displaying a subtle but unmistakable expression of pure disdain before its owner moved out of view again.

Roman was crestfallen, but Virgil moved up alongside him, saying “Pfft, rude.”

“I would have thought she'd be thrilled to take out her vengeance on me.”

“I'm sure she is...but she wants to do it on her terms. Why answer an open challenge when she can wait a while and then ambush you when you least expect it?”

“Well, she's getting an open challenge whether she wants one or not. I just have to figure out how I'm getting to her.”

Logan tossed a pebble out into the water. It made a very satisfying plunk, with rows of even ripples. “The water is at least a few feet deep. I recommend against swimming or wading—immersion in liquid that supports a large quantity of floating ice is almost certain to cause hypothermia.”

“Maybe we can somehow get the ice chunks to line up and form a bridge...?” Roman suggested, but he didn't sound confident.

“Can't you just make a bridge? Or a boat or something?” said Patton. “Now that you're back to being the Creativity we know and love?”

Roman made an exhalation that was halfway to being a sob and said, in a voice with a hairline crack, “I suppose it can't hurt to try...”

He closed his eyes, cupped one hand beside the other as though sheltering a tiny flame, and focused all his power on making something, anything, that would enable them to cross the water. Please...I'll accept anything...a raft...a rope...come on, please!...

He couldn't even say who or what he was begging, but whatever it was...it answered. Roman knew his attempt had worked—more or less—when he heard Patton snicker behind him. He opened his eyes and turned around.

Roman hadn't known what to expect, but he definitely had not expected a buff-colored mushroom the size of a dinner table for eight, with Logan examining it curiously and Remus poking the spongy substance and giggling. Roman blinked at it several times before the irony hit him, at which point he abruptly doubled over with guffaws, bracing his hands on his knees in order to keep from falling over.

“Roman? You...good?” asked Virgil.

“I finally made a mushroom!” Roman wheezed. “After all that angst back there...”

“Roman, what are you talking about?” said Logan.

“I'll tell you guys later,” Roman said, straightening up and rubbing fresh tears from his eyes. “For now...” He unsheathed his sword and severed the mushroom's cap from its stalk almost effortlessly. It landed at the water's edge, floating high. “All aboard who's coming aboard!”

They all fit easily enough, though they had to crowd together to keep their feet from getting wet. Roman took up a perch at the side of the mushroom facing the bank, braced his boot against the earth, and shoved, casting them off. Their peculiar vessel spun gently as it drifted toward the White Witch's castle. Now and again an ice chunk would approach, and whoever was closest to it would kick it away, altering both the spin and the drift in little ways. It took several minutes before the mushroom grounded itself in the far side of the lake.

The portcullis was closed, its iron lattice too tight to admit anything larger than a loaf of bread. But Roman was unfazed. He had made a mushroom. He whipped his sword through the air a few times, and a man-sized section of the bars simply collapsed. He led the other Sides through the courtyard—now empty of statues, as though Aslan's spring had freed the petrified creatures without his direct involvement—and down the corridor to the White Witch's throne room.

They were expected.

Jadis sat enthroned, flanked along the dais by the captains and lieutenants of her armies, a fair sampling of the horror monsters Roman had brought to the Stone Table only that very morning. Many of them carried spears, axes, and clubs. Maugrim paced along the floor in front of the dais in an oddly catlike fashion, his eyes never leaving the party as they entered.

“And here he is!” the Witch declared as though Roman had been the topic of conversation in the room. “I knew you would not be long in returning to me, Prince Roman. And you've brought your fellows with you! Tribute, perhaps? They will look lovely in the courtyard.”

Roman marched to the middle of the hall and leveled an accusing finger at her, eliciting gasps from the assembled creatures. “Usurper! Pretender to the throne of Narnia! Why do you still sit there? You have lost—Aslan has returned, your endless winter has given way to spring, and I...” He swallowed. “...I have purged myself of your malign influence.”

“An influence you welcomed,” Jadis said smoothly. There was the faintest hitch of breath behind him, and her smile broadened. “Why, Roman. Did you not tell them how you came to be the White Warlock?”

“Not yet,” Roman said, trying to sound casual about it. “Don't change the subject. The jig is up, Jadis, and you will quit this castle, take your followers, and leave Narnia forever.”

“Or?” she prompted. Her voice was like a shower of slender icicles pattering down from a shaken branch.

“Or face me in single combat. Me, Jadis. The one who stole your power, stole your very being, into myself, when you were on the brink of victory. Duel me for the right to say what will become of you and your armies.”

Something unprecedented happened.

Jadis laughed.

It was nothing hearty or prolonged, just a quick scoffing exhalation, but it was a laugh. “Or perhaps I shall simply ignore your demand, kill you all, and carry on as I have. Aslan's return means nothing with no candidates to place on the thrones of Cair Paravel.”

“You may find that difficult,” Roman said through gritted teeth, “if I drop the scenario right now and all this vanishes.”

“Oh shit, he's going meta!” Remus stage-whispered.

“Watch your language!” Patton scolded.

“Is that an extreme measure?” Logan asked.

“Are you kidding, Five-Eyes? It's the last resort for a creative type! He's talking about scrapping the story before he gets to the ending!”

“Bollocks!” shouted one of the lieutenants, a goblin-esque creature. “If he has that kind of power, why even offer a duel?”

“My reasons are my own,” said Roman. “The point, Jadis, is that you are being offered a chance. You're a proud woman, but suicidally proud? I don't think so.”

All Narnia held its breath as the Witch considered. After a moment that seemed longer than it was, she rose to her feet. “I accept. We shall duel here, and at once. It begins as soon as I descend to the floor.” She began to walk down the steps of the dais, directly toward Roman.

“Weapons only! No magic from either of us!” Roman said hastily.

“Agreed,” said the Witch with the confidence of someone who is stronger and has longer reach than their opponent. She drew her long stone knife from the sash at her waist.

“No one is to interfere!” Roman added, fighting the urge to back away.

“Agreed.”

Jadis's foot hit the floor, and she charged.

Roman launched into motion himself, and met the charge.

That first blow, stone blade meeting steel, threw up a shower of sparks too bright to look at. The Witch pressed Roman until his boots skidded on the frozen floor, and only by reacting immediately, breaking the blade lock and flinging himself to the side, did he avoid being stabbed then and there.

He rolled onto his back—and she was on him, forcing him to block again, one hand grasping the hilt of his sword, the other awkwardly pincering the blunt edge of the blade. He managed to get his knee up and threw her off, over his head, while ruthless physics sent him slipping in the opposite direction. He scrambled to rise and got as far as a sitting position just in time to see the Witch roll, turning her tumble into a graceful slide, one leg bent under her and the other extended off to the side, her arms counterbalancing.

Elapsed time of the duel so far: perhaps six seconds.

Lewis really undersold her, Roman found himself thinking lightheadedly.

And now the spectators were finding their voices. The prince's spirits lifted when he first heard Patton crow “You can do it, Roman!”...but in the next instant, it was drowned out by the gibbering howls of the Witch's followers from every side of the room. That was all he was able to register before she came at him again, her knife lashing the air in a pattern almost too complex for him to follow.

Almost...Somehow, he managed to parry every strike and even offer a few ripostes. The very end of the sequence gave him an opening to lunge and swipe—she dodged the blow handily, but his sword sheared off a lock of her coal-colored hair. She shrieked with rage.

“Yeah! Shave her bald!” Remus cackled.

“Not helping!” Roman barked.

But it hadn't really hurt either. The prince was getting the hang of fighting on the slick surface; his footing became surer, his movements more confident, his strikes more forceful. The Witch was taller and stronger and had the home-field advantage, but Roman had the superior weapon—two feet of folded steel compared to eight inches of carved stone—and with his insecurities about the arena ironed out, it began to make a real difference. She could lunge at him with inhuman speed and grace, but if he brought up his blade in time, she had to pull her blow lest the knife break on the sword's edge...and that instant of hesitation would give him an opening. The tide of battle turned, and Jadis began to be driven back within her own throne room. The shouts of alarm from her followers were nearly deafening.

(It was at this point that Maugrim, who was nothing if not loyal, began to slink around behind the rows of spectators, looking for a chance to rush to his queen's aid. He thought he found one and tensed to make his move—only to find himself physically stopped by an arc of steel wrapped around his neck exactly as though he were a wayward sheep. He turned to snarl at the interloper and was greeted by a slit-pupilled eye as frightening as any in the White Witch's armies.

“None of that, naughty puppy,” Janus said in silken tones. “No interference, remember? I'm sure your mistress would much rather you strive to keep her honor intact.”

Maugrim's hackles went up and he prepared to overpower Janus through sheer bulk and muscle, but then...)

A gasp went up from Jadis's followers, followed by an immediate hush that blanketed the entire hall. Roman had disarmed her, sending the stone knife tumbling end-over-end across the chamber. She desperately ducked his sword and scrambled to retrieve her weapon, but it struck the wall point-on, digging deep into the frozen surface and sending out cracks that spread rapidly until a section of ice the size of a mattress was sheared off. It barely missed her as it crashed to the floor and shattered, the impact throwing her off her feet.

She looked up into the tip of a blade. “Yield,” Roman said coolly. “You are defeated.”

“You mean to let me live?” Jadis said with a bitter smile. “You know I would not do you the same courtesy.”

Roman winced almost imperceptibly. “I have caused enough death in Narnia. Yield...quit this land forever, and take your creatures with you.” When he got no response, he thrust his sword at her face, drawing a single drop of blood from her chalk-colored cheek.

“I-I yield,” she said, wide-eyed.

Roman half-turned to address the room, keeping his sword trained on his downed opponent. “You have all witnessed her surrender!” he declared. “This regime is at an end!”

One of the monsters raised a keening wail, an acknowledgment of defeat, and was soon joined by others. Those who bore weapons threw them down, and a few made florid obeisances in Roman's direction.

For the first time in days—since he had first begun to feel that he was being steered toward the role of Edmund—Roman felt the tension begin to bleed out of his shoulders. With the wails of the Witch's followers blending into a sort of white noise in his head, he let his eyes slide closed and his sword arm droop, and took a moment just to breathe—

“Roman! Look out!”

—and his eyes snapped back open just in time to see Jadis springing at him with her wand raised (where had she gotten it from?) and there was no time, no time to do anything but drop his sword and bring up his hands to grab—

There was a flash of light, as bright as lightning at the same distance, and a horrible cracking, crunching sound. When it subsided, Roman and the White Witch stood perfectly still, holding her golden wand aloft between them, her face frozen in a snarl of fury, his in understated alarm that hadn't had time to gel...neither one blinking.

Utter silence reigned in the throne room for a long moment. When sound returned, it was in the form of a whimper. “Both of them...both...” Patton muttered, before he broke the stillness and ran up to the twin statues. He lifted a hesitant, trembling hand to touch Roman's shoulder...

Roman blinked, and sighed, and his posture sagged...not stone after all. He let go of the wand as if prying his fingers free of some powerful glue, and as Patton seized one of his hands in a desperately relieved gesture and the other Sides jogged over to the two of them, his knees began to buckle in slow motion. He wound up in a sprawled kneeling position, his legs bent out to the sides, gazing up at the petrified form of his enemy. Her marble complexion was now literal, her hair sculpted waves of obsidian, her lips a scarlet flaw in the surface of the stone, parted to show more white marble behind.

“I did it...” he said in a tiny voice.

“You did do it!” Patton agreed. “Roman, you were amazing!”

“Indeed, I never realized before just how adroit you are at swordsmanship. Well done,” Logan added.

“I defeated the White Warlock...” Roman continued.

“You mean the White Witch,” said Virgil.

“Yes...her too.” Roman closed his eyes again. He was exhausted. “It's time to go home,” he whispered, or maybe just thought. A proper denouement would have been nice, but his energy well had finally run dry. The throne room slowly faded to white around them.

“Uh...” Virgil observed.

“S'all right,” Roman murmured. “Remus, can you...”

“Brilliant idea, giving Remus an open-ended question,” Janus remarked dryly. Curiously enough, however, the other Creative Side was already drawing lines in mid-air in a hurried fashion. Color and texture filled them in, making the image of a miniature door, about half the size of a normal one.

“Whoops, drew it too far away,” said Remus. “Well, come on, it's not going to pound itself until it bursts open!” He set out at a brisk walk.

Virgil and Patton helped Roman to his feet, one arm over each of their shoulders, and more-or-less carried him the short walk to the door.

“Remus, while we have your attention,” said Logan, begging a rather important question, “I have a more defined question for you. Specifically: five eyes?”

“Yep!” Remus replied, arriving at the door and rapping on it in an uneven pattern that had to be a code of some kind. “The two in your eyesockets, your glasses, and the one on the end of your—”

Fortunately, the door opened before he could end the sentence.

#sanders sides #fanfiction #lamp/calm #platonic lamp/calm #dlampr #platonic dlampr #sympathetic janus #sympathetic remus #narnia

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asterekmess · 4 years

Note

1-11 Scott/Posey Stans always try to deflect criticism of the way Scott McCall is written in Teen Wolf by claiming that ANY attempt by a fan, a viewer, or a critic of holding Scott to a level of behavior that one would expect of a character who is a main and the self-proclaimed hero of the show is “racism”. Except that their accusations don’t make any sense whatsoever, because Scott’s canonical shitty actions and behavior don’t stem from his race (or canonical lack of thereof.)

Okay hun, this is a doozy, so I’m putting it under a Read More.

2-11 Scott McCall is mean. He’s mean to Stiles, he’s mean to Allison, he’s mean to Derek, he’s mean to Peter, he’s mean to Cora, he’s mean to Lydia, he’s mean to Jackson, he’s mean to Erica, he’s mean to Isaac, he’s mean to Malia, he’s mean to Malia, he’s mean to Kira, he’s mean to Liam, he’s mean to Chris, and he’s even mean to Theo (“You are barely even human!”) Scott McCall is deliberately rude to the Hales, Boyd, Ethan, Danny, Hayden, Jiang, Tierney, and Melissa.

3-11 Scott McCall deliberately USES, INSULTS, HUMILIATES and DEHUMANIZES people in ways that demonstrate that he is fully aware of what he’s doing. Scott McCall deliberately disregards other people’s needs in order to fulfill his own. Tyler Posey being half Mexican doesn’t change the fact that his fictional character Scott McCall is a whiny coward and an abusive piece of trash,

4-11 and that his so called ‘defense squad’ enjoys the power fantasy that Scott can be cruel, can lie, can assault, can lash out, can violate other people’s boundaries, bodily autonomy and consent, can commit premeditated murder, can break the law without impunity, can dehumanize, can gaslight and victim blame his friends to his heart’s content and no one should ever hold it against him

5-11 In both the production and in some Scott supremacist fanfics, there’s often the premise that people are evil and in the wrong if they call Scott out on his bullshit or hold his toxic behavior against him. Take Season 1. As much as the Scott McCall defense squad brigade love framing Stiles and Derek getting shit done and prioritizing people’s life over Scott’s jealous fits and temper tantrums as the height of depravity

6-11 Scott/Posey Stans consciously and steadfastly ignore all the cruel things that Scott says and does throughout the seasons, such as “How much Adderall have you had today?” OR “What are you trying to do?! I just made first line! I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me and everything in my life is perfect! Why are you trying to ruin it?!” OR “The hunters had a reason to slaughter your entire family and pack”

7-11 (As an aside, it’s amazing to me how Fanon rewrites Scott as this brilliant thinker and strategist and mastermind who is so much smarter and better than everyone else in every way even though Canon Scott spends the entirety of Teen Wolf doing absolutely nothing except get his ass handed to him by everyone, whining about wanting to be popular/get his dick wet/play lacrosse, screaming at his friends and girlfriends, being utterly useless when left to his own devices,

8-11 and planning to bite Stiles against his will because he doesn’t know what to do. But I digress.) Or take Season 5. In the rain argument in Lies of Omission (5x09), Scott McCall’s hypocritical, dehumanizing speech to Stiles is one of the meanest, cruelest, most disgusting manipulations I have ever seen a television character deliver to another television character they supposedly cared about. It’s victim blaming and gaslighting at its vilest.

9-11 And, of course, the Scott McCall defense squad focuses exclusively on the idea that Stiles didn’t behave “the right way” in that scene (AKA taking Scott’s bullshit without clapping back like Scott wanted and demanded), and cannot entertain for one moment the idea that Scott provoked that response by dehumanizing Stiles and by accusing Stiles of being a violent, dangerous, inhuman monster and serial killer based on Theo’s words alone.

10-11 After all, it’s part of their power fantasy. Scott being “abandoned” and “mistreated” by his “ungrateful” friends serves another type of fantasy: the poor oppressed martyr. It doesn’t matter why Scott is abandoned or who is leaving Scott, it’s all about Scott McCall’s right to own people and demand his friends’ love, friendship, loyalty, sympathy, forgiveness, obedience and devotion without having to account for his own abusive behavior.

11-11 And that’s Scott Stans’ point: Only Scott McCall Is Important and Damn Derek/Stiles/Liam/Other Teen Wolf character for having a life and motivations that don’t revolve around Scott! To them (and to Canon Scott), the pack exists not to serve all its members, but to serve and validate Scott McWhinyCall. Because, after all, that’s what antis want for themselves – validation in the face of shortcomings and bad behavior.

Wow, that was a lot of anger. Do you feel any better after venting that? I really hope so, it honestly looks p cathartic. Okay, I apologize in advance if I don’t come across as quite so passionate, I’m kinda bleh today and I already used up all my righteous fury in an earlier post, so I’ll do my best.

I honestly understand the worry about people disliking Scott as having racist motivations. As I said in another post, there aren’t a lot of Latino (wait, I read somewhere to use latine? Should I use that instead? I’ll use that, someone correct me if I’m wrong. The thing also said latinx was not great bc of pronunciation issues? I’m not educated enough on this. Halp, please.) Latine protagonist characters in popular television, especially for teen dramas like Teen Wolf. Intentional or not, written into the show or not, Scott is half-latine. His mother is a latine woman. We don’t see them speak spanish or take part in any specific cultural traditions, but that doesn’t make him white. Yes, his character was written for a white guy, but Tyler Posey is the one who got the part and we can’t strip him of his heritage just because the show originally meant for Scott to be white. My husband is almost always mistaken for white, even though he’s also half-latine, but that doesn’t make him any less latine. There’s little enough representation as it is, and if we start being picky about whether characters were ‘intended’ or ‘written’ as POC, everything will just fall to shit. Plus, as a white person, I have literally no rights to decide that Scott’s white. I’m cool with that. Would prefer to just stay in my lane, if I’m honest. With Scott established as being a POC, it’s totally reasonable for other POC and fans of Scott to be worried that those of us who don’t like him have that opinion because of either passive or active racism. There are a lot of occasions where Protags of Color were either liked less, or actively disliked for just being ‘not white.’ It also doesn’t help that Scott is one of very few “good” Characters of Color in TW (whether we agree or not, he is presented as a ‘good guy’). We have Boyd, who dies in 3A and doesn’t get much character developement in the meantime, and Kira, who sticks around for a while, then has to leave because of ‘losing control’ which is apparently a very common stereotype for POC, especially within Fantasy or Supernatural settings. Other than them, the other POC are either bad guys or just morally dubious. I’m not sure where Deaton falls on the scale either. I understand it being frustrating to some people for us to take one of the few “good’ characters and see him/describe him as a villain. It’s important for white people, and honestly, anyone not latine (because even POC can be racist against people who aren’t their race) to be self-aware and analyze the various reasons why we dislike Scott and make sure that we aren’t accidentally being passively racist. Just because we’re sure we aren’t, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t double check. And if we find we are, then it’s up to us to correct that mindset and educate ourselves. There is no shame in learning that you have not great habits or mindsets and working to fix them. That’s how growth works. It’s equally important that when we’re writing fic, we watch how we portray him and the other POC in the show. I’m not saying we can’t write Scott bashing fic. Fuck knows that I’ve written plenty of Bad Friend Scott McCall fic, and I don’t intend to stop. But we still need to be self-critical and make sure that we’re not writing Scott (or the others, please assume from here on out I’m saying Scott and the others) into racist stereotypes. We shouldn’t reduce him to just a “Yes” man, or make him constantly submissive, or constantly vicious and angry and mean for no reason. It’s one thing to write him as doing something bad or cruel and making it realistic for the story. It’s quite another to have him just randomly pop in to say “fuck you” and hit someone (I’m not referencing something specific here, I’m just saying dumb stuff). Honestly, I don’t know enough about this and I’m not really entitled to go into too much more detail. Instead, I’d recommend that even if you don’t think you’re hating Scott for racist reasons, still read This Post about racism in fandom/fanfic. When I read it, it was both reassuring and intimidating. I have anxiety, so I’m usually worried about doing things for ‘the wrong reason’ even when that’s not actually my reason for doing the thing. Reading this gave me a clearer view of my own thoughts, and it honestly made me feel a little more comfortable with my own mentality because it gave me a structure to think about and consider when I’m worried that I’m doing something racist. It’s worth the read. I’d also like to reiterate the suggestion on that post, to check out the blog Writing with Color, which is a great resource for writing Characters of Color. It doesn’t have as many resources for fanfiction writing and the grey area involved in writing characters that your reader already knows, but their ask box is closed at the moment, so maybe when it opens again someone’ll send in an ask about it (If I actually remember to, I’ll do it myself, but that’s unlikely, so if one of you feels so inspired, please do so and help a fic writer out!)

Now. I cannot speak for every single fan of TW who is anti-Scott in some way. Obviously not. But, I can speak for myself and for the experiences I’ve had within the fandom. My issues with Scott are many and complex and a lot of it is intrinsically connected to issues with the writing of the show in general and with the creators and the calls they made. In all the conversations that I’ve had with other fans, I’ve never seen anyone list Scott’s race as a problem. I’ve never seen anyone talk about how they wished he were more submissive or more obedient. Maybe that he would listen to actual adults once in a while, but not that he be unreasonably obedient of white characters. I’m not all-knowing on the subject of racist stereotypes, but nearly every complaint I’ve seen was based on details from the show and specific moments and dialogue, not just a general disgust with his existence. Furthermore, for all the anger I see directed at those of us that prefer Stiles, Derek, or even Peter, I’ve also never talked to anyone who liked those characters who wasn’t willing to admit that there were plenty of points in canon where they fucked up or did something wrong. Again, I don’t know everyone in fandom, so maybe there are people who won’t admit those things, but they aren’t in the majority.

I personally hate the way I see Scott treat people in the show. I hate the really vicious things he says and does and the chronic lack of self-awareness or growth. Even worse, the way the show excuses his behavior, be it intentional or not, has soured a lot of other parts of the show. The clearly impulsive moments that could easily be excused by him being a really stressed out teenager make me a lot more frustrated than they would, had I not known that he would never get better. That he would never stop saying things like that. I can’t even make myself enjoy the genuinely sweet moments with him and Allison or him and his mom, etc. I might hate that he left Stiles’ messages unanswered and skipped an entire day of school during a crisis to hang out with Allison, but I would’ve liked to enjoy their banter, the soft moments between them that are actually really nice. I can’t though, because so many other things about his character have ruined that for me.

It isn’t okay to attack people for disliking a character and throw around such charged words like “racist” and “abuse-apologist” or anything else. First off, this is fiction, and we all need to keep that in mind. These are not real people we’re talking about. Secondly, calling someone racist because they disagree with you (unless they are actively saying/doing something actually racist) isn’t okay and it isn’t an adult way to deal with things. Someone not liking a character doesn’t automatically make them racist. Someone happening to prefer a white character over a Character of Color doesn’t automatically make them racist. Sure, they might have passively racist motivations that even they don’t realize. But it is not up to strangers to come yell and call names without proof. There are plenty of reasons that have nothing to do with race (Not saying “i don’t see race.” I’m saying “Not About Race”) that I like Stiles over Scott, ranging from the fact that he’s physically more my type, to sharing a neurological condition with him, to just preferring Dylan O’Brien as an actor because he makes me fucking cry every time he cries on screen. What’s important is that we self analyze and check ourselves and our opinions to make sure that we aren’t falling into the racist habit of disliking Characters of Color for no real reason. But that isn’t something that other people can do for us, and it’s not their place to tell us what we think. Calling a stranger racist for saying they hate Scott’s behavior in the show doesn’t do anything for racial equality. It just makes people stop listening to the word ‘racist.’

There are times I seriously get frustrated with TW to the point of considering not watching anymore. Of closing my blog and stopping reading fanfic entirely because every single time I read a fic where Scott’s a ‘good guy’ or a ‘good alpha’ or where Derek is glad to be a beta again because he likes following Alpha Scott, I get squicked so badly I have to click out and just sit there for a second to settle. I can’t disentangle the things he does/says in the show from the fic.And I’ve written Good Friend Scott McCall fics. I have multiple wips where he’s either a decent person or he grows from being a dick to being a decent person. With my own work, I know that there’s an awareness to his behavior in the show and an active intent to rewrite/fix his behavior so that he is a nice person. With other people’s works, I don’t have a guarantee (unless it’s mentioned in tags or author’s notes, and I don’t expect people to have to explain themselves that way), and it personally makes me uncomfortable to read something when I don’t know if the writer actually sees Scott that way. It’s a personal preference, and one that I stick to pretty strictly.

Scott brings me no joy, and with him as the main character, I’ve come perilously close to cutting myself off from the most welcoming, loving fandom I’ve ever been a part of (except the Merlin fandom, but I don’t blame anyone who can’t compete with them. They’re fucking magical.). But I’m still here. I still love, if not the reality of the show, then all the potential I see in it when I watch. I love watching Derek and Stiles interact with each other and with the other side characters. I love seeing the glimpses of Boyd that we get, the tiny scenes of Erica, the snarky moments with Isaac. I even like Kira, though I haven’t seen a whole lot of the show where she’s in it/genuinely can’t remember it (I can’t even remember how far I’ve seen total, but I don’t think it was past S4, and I haven’t seen past S2 in months and months) and she spends most of her scenes with Scott, which just....kind of ruins the scenes for me.

That’s the glory of fandom though, of media in general. I don’t have to like Scott. I can love Derek and Stiles instead and I can choose not to read fics where Scott is a major player or an Alpha at all. I can read fics where Kira’s part of the pack without Scott ever getting involved, and see her interact with everyone else. Or fics where Boyd never dies and watch him bake or read or play lacrosse with the pack. I can curate my own experience, whether that means blocking tags or users or filtering fics, or just straight up skipping certain scenes/episodes of the show itself. I cope with my frustrations by coming on this blog and ranting about it. Yeah, this is a public space, but it’s also a space people choose to view. If they don’t like my opinions, they can block me or unfollow me or all of the above. They don’t have to read it, just like I don’t have to read any of their pro-scott stuff. I also read fic that does explore how Scott’s behavior is problematic and cruel sometimes. Fic that either erases him or turns him into the villain, I find fun and interesting and the relationship between him and Stiles cracking into pieces is something I find extremely cathartic, so I read it pretty much every chance I get (though, i’m so picky about fics I read, you’ve no idea). I also write fic. I write the most mushy, self-indulgent sterek fic and Stiles-centric fic and and Scott bashing fic that I can possibly write. It’s a joy and a therapy all its own. Fuck, I’m rewriting the entirety of canon for fuck’s sake and I’ve made so many changes that at this point I honestly have issues remembering what happens in the show, bc I rewrote the damn thing.

At the same time, Scott fans are gonna write their power fantasies. They’re gonna write anti-Stiles stuff and anti-Derek stuff, and whatever else tickles their fancy. They’re gonna make their own rant posts and gifsets. And to be quite honest, I don’t give a single flying fuck. I already have those tags filtered out on Ao3. I don’t follow any pro-scott tumblrs. That shit doesn’t show up for me most of the time, unless it’s not tagged properly, and even then I just click out, take a second, and move on.

No one is required to like or dislike specific characters, and it’s unfair of anyone to tell us otherwise. Fandom is built on choice. The choice to disagree with canon, or to re-envision it altogether, or to love it entirely. No one can take that away from you. So long as you aren’t hurting anybody, just keep doing you, friend. I’m here for you to vent to when it gets to be too much.

#personal #go for it #anti-scott mccall #meta ramblings #Anonymous #rant #much love #I didn't mean to sound so preachy #oops

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13parkfilter · 4 years

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Ok I have some thoughts about Arrogance and the perception of arrogance, dissent, reputation, and entrenched power dynamics (ok damn is that enough for u) as it all interacts in WWX’s confrontation with the sects at Nightless City.

I’m obsessed with this scene (aren’t we all?) because it’s not just the only time we get to see Yiling Laozu!WWX let loose (which interestingly is motivated not by anger but by grief, not the subject of this post omg stay focused) but it’s ALSO, because of said grief, the most brutally honest version of this conversation WWX lets himself have with the people who are so angry at him.

One of the things the people who argue with WWX in this scene throw in his face as a flaw for which they can’t forgive him is his arrogance. We hear this from Sect Leader Yao (ugh) and from the guy who shoots an arrow at him. While the accusation is the same, the dynamics in each of these conversations is very very different.

The first man is a Sect Leader a generation older than WWX, someone who’s closer in age and status to WWX’s adoptive father Jiang Fengmian— i.e. someone who could reasonably be seen as a parental or mentor figure (if he weren’t so clearly full of shit) to the Sunshot generation of cultivators (LWJ, WWX, JC et al).

Let’s break this down. One of the fascinating things at play in CQL to me is honestly how full of shit the older generation is in how they strategically manipulate, control, reward and punish the younger generation of cultivators, and what behaviors they instill and enforce as a result. They’re the gatekeepers of cultivation society, the ones who decide who to regard as worthy and who to place in positions of leadership and power. There’s an interesting connection here between speech, words, argument, and how people are rewarded and valued.

Depending on who you ask, the most popular and respected cultivator of the younger generation is either Lan Wangji, who very rarely speaks, much less argues with anyone (yet is still accused of arrogance, a topic for a whole other post lol)— or Lan Xichen, who as we all know has the patience of a saint, and will set aside his own principles to drink alcohol at the command of a rude asshole at a banquet without argument if it keeps the peace. Meanwhile the most reviled cultivator of their generation is WWX, the person who talks the most, argues the most, and rarely if ever bends to a command from the older generation if he can think of a valid argument against it. If the Twin Jades care the most about deference, respect of elders and the appearance of civility, WWX is the person who openly flouts these things the most.

Here’s what adults won’t tell you when you’re young: Valuing yourself and your own perspective isn’t arrogance. Refusing to downplay or disregard your own sense of your worth is also not arrogance.

The thing is, people project their greatest weaknesses, the flaws they hate the most in themselves, onto others— that’s what a scapegoat is— and one of the most common follies of age is refusing to trust the wisdom of the young, and not being able to see when a system they’ve perpetuated and come to rely on is deeply flawed and needs to change, and may even need to be pulled up by its roots.

That’s what I see, and what I think about, when Sect Leader Yao calls Wei Wuxian arrogant.

But I see something different when the young, no-name cultivator with the arrow calls WWX arrogant (lmao I’m finally getting to the main point! From those pictures up top!!)— and that has to do with reputation, what happens when you become a public figure and what it means for an anon to call WWX, one of the most talked-about cultivators of his generation, arrogant.

This is where the connection to LWJ being called arrogant by Su She comes in. It’s the same feeling as the young archer, right? Like, who’s this asshole? These are both characters who have a problem with hero worship, characters who instead of following their own sense of what they should or shouldn’t do, base their actions (and in Su She’s case his entire public persona lol) around first imitating and then rejecting someone they admire but don’t fully understand.

This is very different from the clear-eyed, open-hearted hero worship the juniors come to develop for WWX. We see their regard for him develop slowly, over time spent interacting with him directly and by closely observing his actions, as well as openly questioning his actions when they don’t understand the motivations behind them. We see them each come to their own assessments of his flaws, to see how what seems like a flaw in one situation can be an asset in another, and that you can’t have the brilliance without the fire, so to speak.

We don’t get that with Su She or the young archer. These characters are distant from the objects of their interest, and the judgments that they pass happen in the realm of public opinion, based on incomplete information, public perception, and rumors. They confuse the image for the real thing. They look at WWX and only see the arrogant, heartless Yiling Laozu; they look at LWJ and only see the cold, untouchable Hanguang Jun. The juniors arguably hero-worship both of these characters as well, but they also have personal knowledge of them that they’ve learned how to integrate into their full image of each man as a complex human being with flaws and contradictions. What I’m trying to say is, this is why we see Jingyi giving WWX shit and then turning around to defend him to sect leaders in the same breath, while the archer at Nightless City is only interested in shooting WWX out of the sky.

WWX knows this intuitively— there’s nothing he can do to make that kid give him a chance. He’s not interested in why WWX made the decisions he did, he’s only interested in condemning him for not being whoever he made him out to be in his mind without ever really knowing him as a person. WWX understands in this moment what it means to have the reputation that he does, and also knows that this kid will never know what it’s like to be on the other side of that, because his safety is in his anonymity, and he’s able to pass judgment without taking any risks of his own. He’s the invisible type— until he shoots WWX that is, and is killed by him in turn, an action which no one present can accept. We expect great humility and inhuman forbearance from people whose public image has become larger than life. WWX responded as a person whose life was threatened, and everyone else saw the Yiling Laozu, wreathed in power and notoriety, striking down a nameless young man who looked up to him but was more than happy to condemn him.

In spite of being called arrogant again and again, WWX always does his best to upset power dynamics— to treat people higher (and lower) than him as equals, and to insist that they interact as people capable of understanding each other, not as symbolic beings hiding behind titles and courtesy names, or behind the power of their sect.

I’m tired so in conclusion: this is why I stan Lan Jingyi, the loudest and most brutally honest member of his own generation.

#cql meta #lan jingyi fan club #yiling laozu feels #v posts #can u imagine #calling someone who insults you in front of a crowd the invisible type #i aspire to this energy tbh

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a-very-disreputable-intj · 4 years

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I want to clarify a previous post. While I dislike having my honestly expressed feelings, thoughts, and opinions invalidated, just as anyone would, my real beef with people is not that my feelings get hurt. The foundational characteristic and greatest strength of the Thinking Intuitive is the ability to use pattern recognition to deduce logical conclusions, form accurate predictions, and to instinctively understand the unspoken intentions of others. Often this ability comes from an extensive collection of multidisciplinary knowledge that offers an elaborate tool kit of skills and critical reasoning abilities. Sometimes it doesn't come from books, but purely personal experience. Predictable patterns reliably draw accurate conclusions and it is what makes us who we are. We Pay Attention to Everything. We know how we know what we know, why we are right, when we can't give an accurate answer, and can usually figure out how something went wrong, because we follow the evidence and we trust the strength of our own minds. Thinking Intuitives do this naturally, easily, reflexively, it's like breathing for us. We don't pretend to know things (unless it's my intj sister, I'm not losing to her!). This can often mean that we see things that others can't, they simply don't see the world like we do, especially Sensors. I say this because Sensors normally come to conclusions in a purely linear, singular way, making it difficult to communicate abstract thinking to them. So when people tell us that we are Wrong and Can't Know That and so on, it's not that my feelings get hurt exactly, it more like the blinding white hot rage of helpless Injustice at the fact that I simply Cannot make someone understand that my entire personality is wired to See Things and To Know. You aren't hurting my feelings, you're telling me that my whole way of being is Wrong. I can't fight with someone who just Doesn't Know?

To add to my point, Thinking Intuitives do not Bandwagon, each one has their own specific, complex web of logic behind each of their choices, nor do we compartmentalize, so each choice is related to and contingent on all the other choices. When we explain our unique set of values and reasoning, it is nearly always perceived to be an attack on the intelligence of the questioner. It is received as a passive-aggressive accusation of having a sheeple mentality and having no reasoning ability of their own. This leads to the social isolation that so many Intuitives encounter, because they can't share an honest answer to mundane questions without being branded a jackass know-it-all, due to people's insecurities. So we stop sharing anything and are labeled cold and inhuman. My personal favorite is when they tell me "you have put waaaay too much thought into this", but act like it's so rude if I say "it sounds like you've put Zero thought into this".

So in conclusion, I don't Hate Sensors, really. It can take a long time to help them see our point of view. But, having a desire to understand each other is key. It takes a great deal of patience and effort to get to know someone, especially if they are so different from you. It has little bearing on if they're "smarter or dumber". It's about being mature enough, kind enough, and dedicated enough to want to connect to someone in a meaningful way so that you both feel your needs can be met without heavy burden. Which can't happen if everyone's egos are getting bashed in. And few Thinking Intuitives, and No Intjs, are going to keep silencing themselves, so that one ever feels insecure, because why would we sacrifice what's important to us for a relationship if people keep insinuating that we aren't all that great to begin with?

#intj problems #intj #intj life #angry intj #intj things #mbti intj #intjfeelings #intj female #communication #sensors #intuitive #intuition #you just pointed at all of me

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jane-the-zombie · 4 years

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Turn Around, Flashlight Eyes || Felix & Jane

TIMING: When Jane was still on desk duty PARTIES: @streetharmacist and @jane-the-zombie SUMMARY: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lcOxhH8N3Bo CONTENT: Self Harm TW, Car Accident TW

Jane was tired, she was cranky, and she was still really sore from going up against both versions of her fucking mime doppleganger. Worst of all? She was bored. Stuck doing paperwork at work all day and she wanted to scream. At least the bruising and swelling from her broken nose was going down. The last thing she needed was for her neighbor to be dead in his apartment, but Marley had been right. She should check on him. Except, her poor neighbor was forgotten because she heard something in the alleyway next to the apartment. Jane almost turned around and bolted back up the stairs to go to bed. She was not going out there to see what it was, least some goddamn fucking mime asshole was waiting for her. But Jane knew that she was going out there, and swore under her breath as she stomped out the door and around the corner and squinted into the darkness. Felix. There he was, looking as ragged as she did. She would worry about that later. The noise that came out of her - enraged, disbelief, and something she couldn’t quite identify - was inhuman, because she couldn’t believe he would do this again. Outside of her apartment. “Felix Doyle!” Jane raised her voice, hands on her hips. Damn it, she didn’t have handcuffs on her. Or her gun or badge. Damn it. How dare he deal drugs out here again! “I cannot believe you! Both of you, up against the wall. Come on, I don’t have all night.”

The fae had been properly shook, rattled, and rolled. Whatever the alley mime creature had pulled on him, Felix didn’t know. But in a word, he did not enjoy it. There was hardly any thought put into his suit when he left the apartment, the fabric slightly rumpled from when he had woefully rolled himself off the couch. He could either lament what had happened or he could make money. Money, as it turned out, was a wonderful aid against the grey. Whether he was in the alley outside of Jane’s apartment out of some estranged creature comfort or what, he didn’t know, but he knew he was guaranteed a solid deal out of it all. It wasn’t a clammy college kid that stood across from him. It was a grown man with grown man problems that a little powder could help with. Something simple, that was all it needed to be. He could do with simple for the time being. The man had said something funny or maybe he hadn’t. Still, the fae laughed and grinned. A little slower and a little subdued. He heard her before he saw her and when he turned, profile lit by the streetlight, he smiled a little wider. “Jane! How the heck are ya? I believe in you, you know.”

His smile lessened some as the man beside him went stockstill.

“Is that a cop? Is this some kinda sting operation? You in on this?”

When he pointed at Felix, words flying out, it was with a knife. The fae’s face went neutral.

“Well that’s rude.”

Oh, great. Felix believed in her. Jane was not in the mood for Felix’s energetic, evasive mood right now. Her nose hurt, she was sore, and she suddenly knew that Felix was going to talk both her ears off twice before just sinking backward into the shadows. With a jolt, though, Jane realized that the punk wasn’t a college kid, but a grown man. And he had just pulled a knife on Felix. Hell. That was her fault, not thinking situations through before barging into them. That’s why she ended up here after all. Still, she felt her heartbeat picked up, the familiar rush of energy that she craved… “Hey!” Jane said, holding her hands up. Was she close enough to tackle the man? No. She would likely end up with stitches or Felix would get hurt. Jane couldn’t let that happen. Not to Felix, even if he was out here, talking her damn ears off, dealing some goddamn drugs outside of her apartment again. She wouldn’t let a friend get hurt. Well that’s rude. Was that all Felix had to say to some pulling out a knife?!

“Hey now, put the knife away. There’s no need for any of that.” Jane warned, freezing where she stood. “Come on now.”

“You set me up!” The man accused Felix. She decidedly did not like how he was pointing that knife. Jane automatically reached for where her gun was supposed to be. Damn it. It was upstairs laying on her kitchen counter.

“Hey!” Jane barked. “Don’t look at him, look at me. He didn’t do anything to you.” Except encourage your drug habit, maybe. “You should be waving that thing at me.”

Well, Jane certainly looked like she had been in a tussle. Given the knife Felix had pointed at him, he couldn’t exactly ask about it. Trying to hold two conversations was trying enough as it was! He could later though, as he was absolutely certain there would be a later for him. They looked to be in quite the pickle, he thought. Slowly, he turned to face the man, the corners of his mouth slightly lifted. It shouldn’t have been remotely calming to have a knife pulled on him, but hey, some things get familiar over a few decades. Felix kept his palms open as he slightly lifted his hands. The man’s attention was between him and Jane. As keen as he was on not getting stabbed, he didn’t exactly want Jane to get it either.

“Hang on, pal,” he started, voice easy as the breeze. “You’re assuming that I got the energy to do something like that and heck, assuming you’re worth it to. You know what they say about that whole thing...”

The knife edged a little closer as the man took a step, eyes wide open and panic in the black pupils. Felix smiled a little more, teeth showing as skin pulled back. It was electric, the spark that went up his fingertips and danced up his neck. There was another option of who the guy could wave it at, but that was a matter of chance. Madness had no schedule. The fae gripped his glasses and slid them down, hazel giving way to a flood of white. All the better to see the fucker with. Horned shadows spread across the alley, cut holes into the light. Gone in sixty seconds.

The man began to breathe heavy, his chest heaving with the force of it. If he kept going like this, his ribs might shatter. The knife trembled in his hand and Felix took a step back, closer to Jane. Shadows gone, glamour settled. That spark lit him up, his nerves surging and serotonin pumping. He still had it. However deep the mime creature had looked into him, it wasn’t rock bottom. He still had it, rumpled as he was. The knife fell as the man turned to the wall, placed his hands against the stone. Like Jane had said. Crack. Skull hit stone.

Things spiraled out of control quickly. If Jane could just get him away from Felix then everything would be fine. Jane considered goading the man, slowly inching closer. She could throw herself between Felix and the knife, but that still posed risks. Jane swore under her breath as Felix started talking again. No, Felix. Don’t keep talking to the guy with the knife. That was a bad freaking idea. The gravel under her tennis shoes crunched as she slid closer, weighing options.

Jane had just decided to lunge at the man when Felix did whatever it was that he did. She didn’t mind needing a few more stitches, and she wasn’t completely sure that Felix was knife-proof. Better her than him anyday. The blinding light filled the alleyway, Jane automatically using her hand to shield her face - Wait. Was that coming from Felix’s eyes? Jane’s hand fell back to her side as she squinted. Horrible shadows filled the alleyway. It lasted a long time. Too long. Seconds were minutes as she stared in a sort of mortified fascination before it was gone. It was gone and everything was back to normal. Jane reoriented herself. Well, shadow zombies couldn’t do that, now could they?

The man was disturbed. Jane snapped back to reality as Felix backed closer to her. “What the hell was -” Jane’s words were cut off by the horrible crack. Her eyes snapped away from Felix. The man’s skull hit the stone again, and she could see dark wet marks left behind. “Crap. Felix, stay there. Call... someone.” Jane moved instinctively, hoping Felix would listen. The cracking became wet thuds as Jane restrained him. “Hey! Hey! Enough!” She jerked him away from the wall forcefully. “That’s enough, come on now -” The man fought against her grip. Crap. They struggled hard for a moment, Jane fighting for control as he started to scream. He was larger and stronger than her, and Jane still wasn’t up to be in another fight. His elbow sunk into her stomach and she stumbled back with a pained groan. That wouldn’t stop her easily. Jane just barely took a step forward, before the man took off running.

It was like watching a trainwreck in slow motion. The sound of a car turning onto her road and speeding down the street along with the bloodied, disoriented man running and yelling. There was a loud thwack, with a screeching stop as the man’s body was thrown from impact. Jane froze, eyes wide. She turned to look at Felix. “What?”

The fae watched on as the slightest order to the alley quickly unraveled itself. His teeth felt sharp in his mouth, his head felt lighter. Even with his shirt rumpled and his tie askew, Felix felt like a million bucks. Maybe even more. The man quickly devolving into a state of disrepair became the tree he fixated himself on and the rest of it could burn because he didn’t care to look at it. Could he explain it to Jane? That sensation of hopelessness being run clean through to make way for triumph. That creature in the alley had reduced him to something he had not been for so long. It inspired a hatred, a spite in him, that could melt the strongest metals. Maybe even iron itself. He breathed in deep through his nose before he looked at her, brows raised behind his glasses.

She was trying to help the man. Right, that was her job as one of those law enforcement types. He was content to let the man crack his skull open and piece the secrets out one by one. There wasn’t any attempt made to call anyone as he stepped forward, hands half inside his pockets. Faint worry lines creased his forehead as she stepped in and the man rounded on her. That wasn’t what he wanted to happen. Her name left his mouth quickly as the man struck before tearing off down the alley. Felix was nearly inspired to follow. To see where exactly the man’s line of thought led. It wasn’t far. The man’s body rolled out of sight of the alleyway’s mouth in a trail of glass and blood. The fae turned his head to look at Jane, expression nearly as surprised if not a smidge more muted.

“Well, what a one-hit wonder he seemed to be, huh?”

Jane ached all over again. The bruises and the soreness from the knife fight she got in earlier in the week weren’t helped in the struggle with the now very dead man. People in the car were getting out, screaming at the body, calling the police. Shit. She was the police. The confusion sank further in her as Jane winced at Felix’s words. “That’s not funny,” she said. She heard the 9-1-1 call as some hysterical woman and her partner went to see if the man was conscious or had a pulse. Doubtful. She couldn’t bring herself to go look. She looked over at Felix again, running a hand through her hair. How the hell was she going to explain this when the police showed up? What exactly had Felix done, other than blind someone with that weird light?

And it wasn’t like she could tell anyone that. Sarge and the Captain seemed to have their heads up their asses about shit like this, and she didn’t exactly understand what the hell Felix had done to the man. Or if Felix had caused this at all. Certainly not the car accident. Jane made the decision quickly. She turned to Felix. “Inside.” Jane hissed quietly, pointing towards the door in the back of her apartment. “Now. Before they notice us.” Jane hurried too the door, quickly typing in her code, and it swung open. She held it open for him. “I want an explanation, come on now.”

Jane didn’t find the joke funny. Alright, Felix supposed that was fair, and he acquiesced with a nod. A strange pair they made, him completely unbothered and her more than a little bothered. Any humor he felt at the situation slowly slipped away as he turned away from the scene. And what a scene it had become. He hadn’t planned for that, but realistically, he could only plan for so much. When she looked at him and made her demands, he quietly agreed that it was for the best. It wouldn’t be in either of their interest to act as witnesses.

“You got it!”

He followed behind her as she led him to the apartment and as he crossed the threshold of her apartment door, he huffed out a breath. Hands went to his hips as he glanced around the place.

“Say, speaking of explanations, what happened to you? Looks like you got into a scuffle or something there, Jane.”

Jane hurried up the stairs and into her apartment, letting him in. She couldn’t believe that Felix was actually in her apartment. Usually she was out there, chasing him around in the world. At least she had cleaned earlier. Marley’s blood had almost stained the floors and it had taken her forever to try and get it out. She looked at him for a long moment. Scuffle was putting it kindly, and she rubbed the side of her broken ass nose with a grumble. God, was Felix really here? Did she really think this was a good idea?

Jane held up a hand, signaling one moment, before she kicked off her tennis shoes, and went to the kitchen. There, she pulled out a rather large bottle of whiskey and a glass. She paused. And then pulled out another glass.

“I got attacked in the woods by a mime with a knife,” Jane said, flatly, filling both glasses with whiskey. She turned to him. “And it broke my nose and I have 22 stitches.” She patted her thigh, wincing, and rolled up her sleeves to show the bandage on her arm. “It looked exactly like me. After I killed it and it disappeared in striped smoke. Then, later, came back as a zombie, attacked me and my date, and I shot it’s head off. And it disappeared into more striped smoke.”

She held a glass of whiskey out to him.

“Your turn.”

The fae turned his cufflinks idly as he stood near the door. He followed her example and carefully pulled off his own shoes. Wow. Felix never thought he would ever be in Jane’s apartment. It looked...normal. Not at all like how he might have imagined a cop’s apartment. Not that he often considered it much to begin with. Did she imagine his apartment to be full of the world’s assortment of drug paraphernalia? The thought prompted a laugh to pass through him. What an odd day they were having. He wasn’t opposed to the odd or unusual. Better one type of odd over the other and that was how he chose to classify the time spent in Mime Nightmare Alley. At the mention of mimes, he strode over to where she offered the glass of whiskey. He held it between both hands as he turned it, thumbnail quiet as it followed along a groove.

“Jeepers, that sounds like quite the endeavor you went through,” he said with a tilted head. “I encountered one myself not too long ago. It didn’t look like me, but it was a mime still! Guess that’s one way to spend a date, huh? You can’t say it wasn’t memorable.”

He smiled around the rim of his whiskey glass as he took a drink.

“Right, that whole thing,” he said as he lowered it. He had already told her what he was and she had promised to not tell anyone. “Well, like I told you, not a shadow zombie. My kind, we got this eye thing, and when we want, we can flip on these floodlights and if people look right at ‘em...They take a little dip in a pool of madness for a bit, is all.” As if that were as casual as rainwater on a drizzly day. “They lose it for a little. What happens though? I don’t really got control over that part.”

God. Felix had run into a mime too? “I hate this town.” Jane took a moment to finish the contents of her glass in one go, before pouring herself another. It was a get drunk kind of night, especially as she glanced to the window and saw the familiar red and blue siren lights. God. She couldn’t believe this. She truly couldn’t believe this. She wondered if Felix would let her into his apartment willingly. Probably not without a warrant. Jane almost laughed out loud at the thought, leaning against the counter.

“Definitely some sort of date,” Jane muttered, wincing slightly as she remembered her zombie form breaking Marley’s arm. She shook her head, focusing on what exactly Felix was telling her. He was a Lamp-pan-something. Lampinade. Lanped? Lamede. Something like that. Not a shadow zombie. Or, well, a fae, as he said. Not a fairy. She tried to wrap her head around it.

“Madness?” She asked cautiously. That sounded extremely dangerous. It was extremely dangerous. She saw its effect on that man. But that man had drawn a knife on Felix. Who was she to say that he could use is Lampinade-something powers on him in self defense. He hadn’t known that he would do that. The law was meant for humans, and wasn’t adapted for the supernatural. She was slowly realizing that… That didn’t mean Felix would get off scot free running drugs, though. Jane was curious now, as she was about dangerous things. Jane looked at at him, peering at his glasses, as if she was going to suddenly see a bright light. She pointed to them, suddenly. “Is that why you wear those? If you take them off, will the light come back?

“Kinda makes you wish you knew about all the mime nonsense before, huh?” Felix remarked as he rubbed at his jaw with one hand. “But I guess I can see why it’s the kinda thing they might wanna keep hush-hush. Can’t really imagine too many people clamoring to get in if the mimes are the welcoming committee.” A mime had stolen some of his finest weed. Of course he was bitter and would remain as such long before the mime bodies fell to the weeds. He found himself a place to comfortably sit, one ankle crossed over the other. In Jane’s apartment and seated without a care! Well, one care, maybe.

“It looked like he got a decent hit in there, Jane. How ya feeling?”

He expected her questions and hummed over them as he turned his glass. Madness was such a vague concept. Nebulous. Entirely unique when someone was taken by it. Some crumpled, some puffed up. It depended on so many little factors and all it took was the slightest nudge from a single look to get someone facing that abyss.

“Yes,” he said as he straightened up. “The very thing! It’s different for everyone, you know. Friends can become enemies, nothing can become something. Loneliness can suddenly become very crowded.” It was one of the ways his mothers had explained it to him the first time he accidentally sent a friend scrambling away. It didn’t bother him to share this with Jane. At the question of his glasses, he tapped gently on the rims. “Sort of, yeah. A little less likely to hit someone with the beams if I got ‘em on. That and they look nice.” He started to smile. “Don’t you think?”

“Not like I had much of a choice coming here at all.” She didn’t mean it to sound as bitter as it came out, but it was. Jane had really only told Marley that the reason she was here was because she had been forcibly transferred, and even then it hadn’t been a real explanation of what happened. It was still funny to her, though, that her and Felix ended up in the same small town. It was equally funny to her that a drug dealer’s presence had made her feel a little less lonely once she knew he was here. Jane knew, as she sank down into her little armchair across from Felix, that she had been chasing Felix for years and now there was usually a bit of fondness in her tone whenever she started yelling at him for being… well… him.

She prodded her ribs, wincing. He had gotten her pretty good, but it could have been a lot worse. “Oh, he barely got me,” she scoffed, waving it off. “It’ll match the other bruises.” SHe was more concerned with how he described this madness that his flashlight eyes gave people. She saw the shadows in the light, and she didn’t think she had been affected by it. How exactly did it work? She wondered if he would do it to her if she asked. After all, if she banged her head against the wall, that wouldn’t be his fault, it would be her own. The idea already had her perking up, but she didn’t think it was a conversation for now.

“You said it only lasts for a bit? So everything returns to normal after a while? How long is a while? And you can turn them off and on?” Curiously, Jane craned her head, as if trying to see around his glasses, like the light was just going to come back into her apartment.

“They do,” Jane smiled at little, despite herself, “A staple of your wardrobe. I don’t think I could complain about that.”

“This place really is something of a far cry from Portland though. Place gets a lotta action. But no choice? How do you mean? You did say stubborn fate was a way to put it...” Felix nodded, tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. Fate was a matter of little thought to him. He didn’t like to bind himself to one such destiny. But it brought him some comfort, some off brand sense of familiarity, that he and Jane had met once again. Just with a little less dress-burning and a little more danger, he thought with a laugh. He didn’t see a thing wrong with it. “See, I listen to you when you tell me things. Just maybe not when it’s hey, that’s illegal or are those drugs in your pocket or are you just happy to see me.”

He laughed. His thoughts and feelings had already distanced from the fact a man had been laid out, likely put down, by an oncoming vehicle. It was bound to happen one day. Given that the human had decided to pull a knife on him and his friend, what better day! Jane Wu. His friend. Huh. With the way she winced, he briefly wondered if he should offer to her what he had for sale. As fun as that would be, maybe not the best decision.

“Yup, it sure does. Really depends on how long we stand there ogling each other’s eyes,” he explained. A glance could last an hour but with intent, it could go on for quite awhile. She seemed...interested in what he had to say. That was kinda nice. “It’s the difference between looking at someone and really looking at someone, focusing on ‘em. Like a lightbulb! Clicking it on to the highest point it can go.” He snapped his fingers quietly as he said it and grinned. Jane had already promised him that she wouldn’t mention what he was to anyone and that kept his tongue flowing freely.

“Was that a compliment? Geez, he must’ve got you good.”

Felix seemed a little curious as to how she ended up here, even if he didn’t quite understand why she was so disgruntled at being here at all. She wouldn’t get into it, not really, and definitely not with Felix. What was she supposed to do? Admit that she, a police detective, had done something wrong? It seemed silly to admit tht she was a little ashamed - she was ashamed? Is that what that felt like? “Why don’t we just leave it to Fate, Felix?” Jane said, suddenly uncomfortable, but she let out a low laugh. She definitely had, once or twice or three times, had said are those drugs in your pocket or are you just happy to see me. “I hope you’re not saying that you just have drugs in your pocket and you aren’t happy to see me.”

Of course, him admitting her had drugs on his pocket would result in breaking out the handcuffs a little too early in the night. From his own rumpled suit, she was fairly certain that neither of them had enough energy to be chasing or running. That was fine, she could call a truce with a friend for the night. Felix Doyle… Her friend. Shit. Jane let out a low sigh, and settled back into her chair.

Jane had more questions. She was interested in how it all worked - what did Felix see when he looked into the other person’s eyes, and what other effects did it have? Did he do it often? Did he have to do it? But Jane was fairly certain he wouldn’t appreciate being grilled, especially after he had just saved both their lives. Jane grinned back as he snapped his fingers. “Sounds like you have your own personal high beams.” She smirked slightly.

“You know, now that you mention it, he probably did get me pretty good. I don’t know what I’m saying.” She poked her ribs, wincing, mostly for dramatic effect before she leaned forward, swiping the remote off her coffee table and throwing her feet up. “They’re going to be out there a while,” Jane said, nodding towards the blue and red lights flashing through her window. “And I’m still technically on desk duty, so they won’t be calling me out there any time soon. So you’re stuck with me, unless you do your strange shadow zombie thing.”

Jane settled, flicking the television on, before turning her head to smile at Felix. “I told you we were going to end up watching Desperate Housewives together.”

#para #para felix #felix #car accident tw #self harm tw #this was a RIDE #and SO fun lmfao #if anyone needs a TLDR let me know

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nocturnal-jeon · 5 years

Text

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚌 𝚁.𝙰. ➛ 𝚓𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 {2}

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎!𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚔𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚝, 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚁.𝙰. 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚙��𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.4k

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝: 𝚘𝚗𝚎

____________________

When Jungkook woke up in his bed the next day, he couldn’t help but scowl when he saw some unknown female sleeping beside him in bed. Maybe it was the alcohol he drank last night or him just not caring, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember her name. Her body was draped lazily over Jungkook’s as the sheets covered her naked body. Her short black hair was spread over the pillow she managed to steal from Jungkook as she slept.

Sitting up, he slid on his undergarments and stood up from the bed, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. He turned on his phone and saw missed texts from Namjoon, urging him to come join him in the dining hall to get breakfast. Sighing deeply, Jungkook realized how hungry he was as his stomach let out an inhuman sound. But first, he had to get rid of the nameless girl in his bed.

Jungkook decided to get dressed as he figured out ways to wake her up, so he put on ripped blue jeans and a white t-shirt. His eyes drifted over to her clothes on the floor, and he hated how messy it made his room look. It wasn’t the largest, so having one small mess made the whole room feel dirty.

Luckily, Jungkook didn’t have to do anything to wake her up since his phone ringing loudly had her up and awake within seconds. Chuckling to himself, Jungkook looked down and declined Namjoon’s call. Thank you, Namjoon, he thought. “Good morning, handsome,” she complimented, causing Jungkook to cringe. “I have to go to a meeting, so you need to leave,” Jungkook lied. But as the dorm’s R.A., it was a believable excuse.

She nodded and pulled her clothes back on, stumbling a bit as she tried to pull her leggings on. Jungkook waited impatiently, his wallet and phone in hand as he was more than ready to leave. Just as she was pulling her last shoe on, Jungkook walked over to the door and held it open for her.

She walked past Jungkook, but as she lingered and began to slowly move in to kiss him, Jungkook rolled his eyes and moved past her, closing and locking the door. “That was fun,” was all he could say before speeding away and jogging down the stairs, laughing to himself. He always found it hilarious when girls thought there was more than just sex. No. It was just sex to fill a human’s needs. Nothing more.

Entering the dining hall, Jungkook could easily spot out the freshman. Each freshman was clearly so amazed by all of the options that they got a little bit of everything. The seniors seldom came to the dining hall since they lived in apartments and cooked for themselves, so as a junior, Jungkook looked forward to the days where he wouldn’t have to force himself to be social with the underclassmen.

Walking over to the cereal bar, Jungkook made himself an average bowl of cereal, avoiding any form of socialization. He then made his way over to the table he and his friends almost always sat at. Namjoon looked at him in disbelief as he sat down across from him.

“I was waiting for over fifteen minutes,” Namjoon complained, his brows furrowing in irritation. “Well, no one told you to wait,” Jungkook retorted with an amused smile before eating a spoonful of cereal. “And look who else waltzes in late,” Namjoon announced, falling back into his chair and crossing his arms. “You say late as if there’s such thing as being on time to a place that’s open 24 hours,” Yoongi smartly commented as he plopped himself down next to Jungkook, a banana in hand.

“Next time, I’m not waiting for you guys,” Namjoon vowed, pointing a long, accusing finger at Jungkook and Yoongi. “You said that last time. Yet, here you are,” Jungkook pointed out, smirking. “Whatever. Yoongi, you signed up for classes, right?” Namjoon asked, starting a conversation Jungkook didn’t care enough to be a part of. So, instead, he scanned the dining hall, entertained by the nervous antics performed by the freshman.

However, the calmest ones sat at a table right by the window. Leaning forward a bit, Jungkook squinted to make out the faces. And just as his eyes focused on the face of one of the individuals, he became interested.

It was the person from his dorm who forgot what their room number was. With the way that the sunlight was hitting their face, there were deep shadows near their almost-perfect nose, while the rest of the bright light illuminated their face.

You wore a t-shirt dress with plain sneakers and had your hair up in a ponytail with very little effort. Jungkook wiped a thin sheen of saliva over his lips as he saw your exposed neck. How pretty it would look marked up, Jungkook thought to himself. He fell in love with how small and delicate your hands were as they were wrapped around a cup of coffee.

He loved how you sat like such a lady with your leg crossed over your knee. Everything about you seemed so adorably innocent, but Jungkook hadn’t forgotten about that little fiery attitude you had yesterday. It was just that that caused Jungkook to want to find out more about you: your duality.

You sat with your best friend Jimin and your new friend Taehyung. You figured that you were going to be on the right track if you hung out with people like Jimin and Taehyung. Taehyung was incredibly kind and down to earth and he had some of the best fashion sense you had ever seen.

You liked your small little friend group already.

He watched, a small smile on his own lips, as he watched you grin from ear to ear. He watched as your lips moved with every word you spoke, pearly white teeth making an appearance here and there. But as he saw you get up and head in the direction of the trashcans, he saw this as the perfect opportunity to talk to you.

“I’m gonna clear,” Jungkook muttered to his friends as he got up quickly. “You haven’t even eaten your cereal,” Yoongi commented, a mouth full of banana. Jungkook ignored him, however, and speed walked to meet you at the trash area. You stood with your back to him as you chugged the rest of your coffee before discarding of the cup.

“How did you sleep last night?” you heard behind you, causing you to slightly turn your head. You were surprised to see the R.A. standing beside you.

“Huh?”

“Well, the mattresses are shit. Plus, it’s your first year of college, so it’s always an odd feeling to sleep in a bed other than your own,” he explained and he held his bowl upside down to empty out a whole lot of cereal and milk. “Yeah, the mattresses are pretty shit. But, I don’t know, I slept kinda well. Thanks for asking, Jungkook,” you responded.

As he put his bowl away, his eyes widened when he heard you call him Jungkook.

“How do you know my name?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. For some reason, that was the hottest thing ever. “Jungkook. Oh, go faster, Jungkook,” you jokingly moaned, causing a small red tint to grow on his cheeks out of embarrassment. Nonetheless, he laughed, and since it was the first time you had heard him do that, it was a soothing yet unfamiliar sound.

“Yeah,” he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, “she was a loud one.” You chuckled. “What’s your major?” he asked, resting his hand on the counter and leaning against it, exposing the veins on his arms, causing you to nearly shit yourself once again.

“Music,” you replied. “Ah. That’s different,” he commented. Different as in he’s never gotten with a music major before. “I guess. What about you?” you asked yearning to learn more about this rude yet incredibly attractive stranger. “Film,” he answered, watching you with sparkling eyes and a fixed grin.

“Jungkook, let’s go!” you heard someone shout a few feet away. Your eyes followed the voice and you saw one very tall male standing beside one relatively short male, both looking at Jungkook.

“Well, I hope to see you at the floor meeting later tonight,” Jungkook said as he walked over to his friends backward. Almost tour guide like. You nodded, a small smile on your lips. Jungkook turned his back to you and left the dining room with Yoongi and Namjoon.

“Didn’t you see I was in the middle of doing something?” Jungkook irritatedly asked, looking between his best friends. Yoongi chuckled. “What, the middle of picking your latest project?” he snorted, causing Namjoon to laugh. “Don’t call them that,” Jungkook spoke through gritted teeth. “Are you gonna give us the whole, ‘they’re not like the other ones’ spiel?” Namjoon questioned. Jungkook remained silent.

He barely knew you, but he did know for sure that he wanted to get to know you. And even though, you know, he barely knew you, he knew this was a premature thought. But he did believe that you weren’t like the others he had gotten with. He couldn’t figure out what it was, but there was something about you that drew him in like a magnet.

“Do you wanna come with us to this party tonight?” Namjoon asked. Jungkook shook his head. “I have a stupid floor meeting I have to run,” Jungkook whined. “Damn, I never imagined that out of all of us, Jungkook would be the one to be an R.A. for fuck’s sake,” Yoongi commented, causing Jungkook to laugh. “Nah, there are some pretty cute girls on my floor,” Jungkook pointed out, a smirk on his lips. “What, so is your goal to get with all the freshman girls on your floor?” Namjoon questioned as the trio sat in the grass on the quad.

Jungkook shrugged cockily. “I mean, they all probably want to get with me, so it won’t be that difficult of a task,” the youngest bragged. Yoongi scoffed. “Forty dollars he doesn’t do it,” the eldest predicted. “Really? I don’t think we’re giving our boy enough credit! Forty he does do it,” Namjoon spoke with raised eyebrows. “Is this a bet, my friends?” Jungkook asked, reaching his hand out in between them. He watched as Namjoon and Yoongi shook his hand then shook hands with each other.

__________________

“Okay, so, thank you for coming. Well, you really had no choice,” Jungkook said, projecting his voice to the members of the floor he was in charge of. You sat on the couch next to some nice girls and watched him closely. He was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie and was standing in front of the television in the lounge room. His face was cold and expressionless as he held a sheet of paper in his veined hands.

“I know this shit is going to be boring, but I have to read all of this stuff to you.” His voice was monotonous and his mood was mellow. “Fire safety rules,” he began. But you just drowned him out, having no interest whatsoever. You instead looked around the room curiously. Most of the girls you were sitting with were watching Jungkook with eyes filled with lust as they sat up straight, pushing their boobs out further for Jungkook to see.

The boys, on the other hand, were watching Jungkook as if he was some sports star that they idolized since they were children. You thought it was amusing more than anything, but even though Jungkook clearly had many options to choose from and so many different boobs to look at, every time he looked up as he spoke, he looked straight at you. He understood why you were so aloof and was barely paying attention. Shit, even Jungkook was getting bored.

And while Jungkook was beginning to develop crush-like symptoms for you, you just thought he was an interesting character. He was unlike any person you had ever met.

After he finished reading off the paper, he balled it up, the loud sound bringing you out of your daze. “And now, behind you, there’s some pizza and drinks so you guys can get to know each other. Thanks for listening, I guess,” he said. Everyone got up and darted towards the pizza as if they hadn’t eaten all day.

All you really wanted was a drink of water, so getting up, you weaved your way through the crowd of other fellow freshman and you poured yourself a cup of water. Oddly, the cups were spiderman themed. Jungkook seemed like a child at heart, causing you to chuckle.

You searched the many bodies for Jungkook’s, but when you saw him, your mood turned sour and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He was seated on one of the beanbags with a hot freshman seated on his thick thighs. You leaned against the wall and sipped your water, allowing the cold substance to bring your body temperature back down. But, as you, moved your hand down to hold the cup at about waist height, someone bumped into you and caused it to spill all over your white shirt. You looked up to see that same freshman girl, her hand held tightly in Jungkook’s. “So sorry,” she apologized, before practically pulling Jungkook down the hallway in the direction to his room.

“Sorry my ass,” you muttered.

You sighed and followed after them, planning to go into your room and change shirts. As Jungkook slowly turned the key in his door handle, he looked over his shoulder and saw you doing the same. But his mouth began to water at the sight of the shirt sticking to your toned body, making the material more transparent. His eyes drifted to your chest. Your black lace bra was visible through the shirt and fuck, Jungkook wanted to see more. But, you entered your room and closed the door.

And Jungkook went into his room to do what he did best. But as his hips rocked into some freshman below him, all he could do was think about you on the opposite side of the wall. He wanted to get to know you and explore your brain, but of course, he wanted to explore other things, too.

You groaned when you heard the familiar banging sound coming from Jungkook’s room and you wondered if this was how it was going to be every night. You changed your shirt and decided to just get into bed and try to get some sleep. But as you laid awake, drowning out the moans and screams coming from next door, you thought of Jungkook. He seemed like a complete fuckboy to you.

He seemed like the type to get what he wants from a girl and kick her to the curb. You thought the girl from last night was his girlfriend or something, but the more you thought about it, you couldn’t see Jungkook with one girl for a long period of time. He screamed “fuckboy” vibes and you hated it.

And that turned you off. Big time.

#bts #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts fics #bts fanfics #bts series #bts drabbles #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook college au #college au #kpop

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venusandluc · 4 years

Text

The face of an angel :Chapter 4-

a warning he does get to see her undergarments but back then undergarments were basically shorts and a tank top so like I think you all be fine- plus they don't do anything so like... Meh

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

There, he said it. And he immediately felt stupid. She saved him, of course, she was fine... But he couldn't be sure without her saying so. He feared, even if he thought it absurd, that if he left without asking, something bad might happen. And for once he wasn't a fan of that forecasting.

She didn't turn to face him. Her body tensed. He could see that. A state of shock hitting her. Did he know? She knew it was possible, but she hoped that he didn't know. The angel's body now completely shivering. The bitter cold entering her bones again. Her legs almost buckled under her gown, but she stood tall. " Why do you ask?" she needed to know why he asked. The angel wanted to know if they were on the same page. What did he remember!? Oh, my lord! Please don't let this man know!

" your shaking" the Phantom lifted a brow, not that she could see that. " it's none of my business, I rather not accuse another-" he stopped himself, walking towards her and away from the door making his way over to the small flower. "So. Are you going tell Erik~" a smirk laid on his face as his velvet-like voice left his lips- towering over her.

her doll eyes didn't dare to meet his gaze. " I don't have anything to tell Erik." she started, trying to forget about the discomfort her legs. "I'm fine." this was said in a cold tone as if she was telling him to leave. The tone was as frigid. As frozen as her legs. She was far from fine.

" Erik doesn't appreciate your lies-" hid voice hissed, "plus, I won't depart till you tell me." with those words he leaned down so that was face to face. Blowing the hair out of her face, before laughing as she turned away from him. " giving me the cold shoulder? How rude." the demon snickered, " what's with the chilly attitude?" a big smirk on his face as he said such things, he was teasing her.

The nuns cold blue eyes suddenly looked into the sockets that Erik called his eyes. She looked as she wasn't going turn down but there was some unease in her eyes. Sue knew this man could easily overpower her. But she didn't speak, placing her fingers on the brim of her mouth pretending to lock them, and flick the key in demons face.

The phantom could only groan and take a step away in reaction.

" you are just an arrogate little brat aren't you?" He frowned and turned from her, "well then," he headed for the door, as his tongue clicked to the top of his mouth. " we aren't alone in here, I'll just go to some other nun, tongued or

Untongued, and tell her! Then we will both be but that seems to be what you want!"

The nun's eyes widened in fear, was he treating her?! How dare he! If he told anyone, the punishment would be harsh. They might even throw her out of the church! They punished her for even speaking, but for sneaking out. As well as bringing a man into her room. That would assume she had relations with this man!

Her hand clasped onto the others arm about to speak, when she collapsed. Falling into Erik's arms, who tried to catch her. The pain in her legs had finally become too much.

" See, Erik is always right." he sighed as he hoisted her up and placed her on the bed. Leaning on the wall next to it. " Warning, Erik has never given first aid to anyone, well, nobody but Erik. Erik absolutely has no idea what he's doing."

that in no way helped, the sister's legs curling up more under her gown. Her face a light pink. Not being able to look in Erik's eyes. "I'm Fine... Please just leave. If you need to go, then just go."

She was stubborn, a stubborn little carnation wasn't she? "Erik, well, I don't need to go." not like he had anywhere to even go, all he ever had was gone, " I like to." However, even if it is a blessing to leave this room, this tension that you could cut with a knife, other things filled his mind. "I would like to assist you."

The nuns face held skepticism, she had always been alone, persay... It was hard for her to take help when handed to her. Plus, this help would include... Him... Beholding her undergarments.

Erik was now closer to the bed. A smug look ok his lips "oh, I would also like to know what to perhaps may have been doing, when- you know, saved me?~" Yes, that was very important as well, even if it caused her face to scrunch and become tense.

"no-" she said in a harsh manner. To both tries from the man. She refuses to talk about the lake or the water, and this help would most likely spiral into a conversation about it.

"Oh, come on, " he sat at the foot of the bed as if he was a dog. " You're very disrespectful. You can't act like this! Someone is offering you help for free! That's not very common outside, you know?" the former opera ghost placing his thin hand by the nun's feet. His spidery hand moving impatiently. " Now, let Erik help you." His hand grabbing the hem of her dress lifting it up so he could take a ponder at her legs.

But instead of seeing her leg, he got a foot abruptly colliding with his face, with such vitality that it would break a man's nose. But Erik didn't have a nose. It still hurt even so. Knocking him over. His boney fingers tracing across his disfigured face. Him letting out a growl. Blood cramming into the bandages that laid on his face. " You insufferable little wench!!!!" he hissed out, as he stood up, swiftly pinning her to the bed.

" I OFFERED you my help and this is how you-" they're- right there in her eyes was fear- no pain. It hurt her as much as it hurt him. Pain shooting through her leg. Even if she was in pain she deserved it for knocking him in the face. He did loosen his grasp on her, he could honestly crush her at any given moment, kill her like all the others. Crack her legs off as she screamed! Or choke her! Immerse her! He could so easily do all these things. But he couldn't. Those thoughts now becoming a nightmare. It was her eyes, her face... he couldn't understand.

He tried to imagine his fingers grasping around her small delicate neck, once again, but nothing came up... Just more repulsion; and stress. It felt horrible! Maybe it was just the guilt talking, he didn't feel it often so it had to be true.

He slowly let go, looking away from her. Letting her sit up. " If you are frightened for my decency - don't worry. I'm not the type to lust over prudent children." Well, that was a lie. But he didn't lust for her. It wasn't lust, it was something entirely different, a want. A desire. Not for her body... It was so confusing.

" I'm not a child," she said swiftly, but she knew deep inside he wouldn't leave her be. She would eventually have to give in. " Fine-" left her lips. If he didn't touch her she would be fine. " But I will be taking off my own gown." the pain becoming too much for her.

Lucien's hands trailed down the dress before undoing the buttons. Dropping the black and white dress on the bed, leaving her only in her white undergarments. She wore white puffy like shorts, with a ruffle going down each 1 inch. And a white corset, like top. With small sleeves on each side. Her white, unnatural face gaining pink, even if it wasn't like the phantom could see anything.

He could see her legs now, they were so smooth and white, like glass. So skinny, so doll-like even. but containing the gray color of frostbite - no blue. No purple. As some blisters started to appear on her legs. Nasty purple little things. Ruining Erik's beautiful little doll.

His fingers traced her legs, brushing her ankle. " Can you feel anything?" he got no response just her jerking her leg away from his touch. His eyes shut as she retreated, his hands still yearning for her cold touch. When he glanced at her, he saw fear in her eyes. He hated that look. He desired... What did he desire?

"Carnation, you don't have to be frightened." the man sighed, and at that moment he knew. "You tended to my wounds, let me do you the favor and do the same."

"I - I don't fear you " those words music to his ears, almost. They could be a lie. For all he knew, they were a lie, wasn't the first time someone lied to him. " I'm just anxious " it made sense for her to be, she was a woman in her undergarments in front of a man she pulled off the street. She wasn't scared of him, she was scared of the sin that she was doing. She has never been touched by a man. Unless you count the priest, but baptism doesn't count.

Her breath hitched a bit, the angels in her head crying out for her to stop, as she placed her leg on the other hand. "its only fair, for me to let you. As I had to get under your clothes... To get to all those dastardly wounds." she cheeks now a pinkish color but still containing her inhuman look.

He nodded and tried to ignore the newfound intimacy they shared. He applies soft pressure to her leg, again asking " can you feel that."

She bit into her lip as he did that, and nodded " yes- I can " she shuddered out, a warm but cold feeling shooting through her legs. Such a puzzling feeling. " Erik." was all she could mutter out as he stroked her legs absentmindedly, at least making them a bit warmer.

They were like ice, so cold, so pure. So different from Christine's. She wasn't as small. Of course, he could break her if he wished to, but why would he ever harm his dear Christine. But, even so, this girl, this one, he seemed to be able to apply such little pressure to her and the glass that made her would cover and the floor.

That when he noticed his wrongdoing, his usual yellow skin turning rosy under the bandages. " I heard body heat helps." he tries to excuse himself.

The angel didn't pull away but instead blessed him with her other lovely leg. "Yes- you are correct." she spoke as her legs relaxed in his hands, god would burn her in hell if he knew. Her giving into her desire, his desire. But she was no whore. Them just sharing a connection, that neither wished to let go of.

This moment lasted a bit longer, both of them not speaking a word enjoying the comforting silence. Her skin usually white, but the former Oprea Ghost could tell when it came to be natural for her. Taking his hands away from her pure skin, a sense of longing filling his fingertips. As if he made a mistake he could not fix. He sighed " feeling better?" breaking the delightful silence that consumed them.

She noticed the feeling gone and quickly nodded her head, lifting herself from the bed in order to get the feeling back, placing herself in the demon's lap. Erik's lips opened to make an argument but she ordered him to hush pressing her head to his chest. Enjoying this feeling.

Maybe she was using him for his body heat, perhaps the devil's ways that the others warned her so much about overtook her. But that didn't seem to matter now, as she pressed her ear to his chest and listened to the soft music of his heartbeat. Lulling her to sleep.

It seemed that their relationship developed quite rapidly under such circumstances... Erik could only embrace her, and rest his chin on the crown of her head. Warming her up some more. She was really tiny, fitting in his arms quite perfectly.

Has he ever braced anyone in this way? No... He didn't believe he had. It was so freeing.

Slowly, his lids begin to fall. Them to heavy, his body way too warm to keep himself awake. The fiend fell asleep, the first time in years feeling so comfortable. His dream's full of angels, music, his darling Christine, and the freezing water. Unknowing that this simple act would change his world, no, their world forever.

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oneofyatosfollowers · 4 years

Text

One of a Kind- Chapter 14

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191861/chapters/54049984

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13360973/1/One-of-a-Kind

"Captain? Captain, please open up the door." Kuoto knocked on Tenjin's door, leaning close to the slate of metal. The Auto was met with stubborn silence. He double checked the captain's whereabouts, his x-ray heat vision confirming Tenjin was toying with his computer. The captain's heart beat had calmed down a bit from before, but still pounded.

"Pity," Kouto smiled, "The excitement didn't finish the old coup off." The co-captain looked over his shoulder at the sound of the elevator rising to the chamber. His taser at the ready, he turned to face the doors with a smile on his face, holding the weapon behind his back.

"Edachi, do you mind getting that for me?" Kuoto addressed the Go-4 with the lifeless eyes. The man swayed to his feet, robotically walking to the elevator and plugging in the code to unlock the elevator. The doors slid open to reveal Bishamon and Kazuma, faces trained in stoic professionalism.

"Kugaha?" Kazuma narrowed his eyes at the Go-4 who did not respond in any way. Bishamon pressed her lips in a firm line and pushed past the man she gave a name too. Her Co-captian's half torn face made bile climb to her throat, but she didn't let it show. Bishamon met Kouto's eyes head on.

"Sir, where is the captain? Is he safe?" she asked.

"Yes, that Wall-E snapped and attacked him out of no where! I managed to hold him off but the captain is unconscious. I had Go-4 lock him in his chamber to safety recover." Kuoto explained, his face one of distress. Bishamon blinked at him, furry bubbling up from under her skin. She never wanted to beat someone so badly in her life. Bishamon instead walked to Tenjin's door, raising her hand to knock, only for her wrist to be grabbed. Behind her, Kugaha stepped towards them, Kazuma remained rooted by the door.

"Lieutenant General Bishamon," Kuoto's smile remained stiff, "I can take care of our beloved captain, I think you should join your troops in their effort to find the stowaways."

"There's no need for worry," Kazuma stepped forward, "We've captured the rebels and have all of their possessions in custody."

"Excellent work Secur-T. I can take it from here, where are the captives being held?" Kouto tossed Bishamon's wrist out of his hand and fixed his cuffs. Bishamon stood to face him, forcing her body into a more obedient stance.

"I'd be happy to take you to them sir, they need to be dealt with swiftly and their punishment just." Bishamon thought back to the Wall-E with blood stained hands and how he always managed to give her the slip. That bastard.

Something in her expression must have gave her thoughts away because Kuoto's one eye widened before he let out a slight laugh.

"Gave you a run for your money, did he? Don't let it get to you, he is more formidable than he looks." The Auto made his way towards the elevator, preparing to dismantle the one that got away.

"Yes, of course," Bishamon stepped to the side and followed him to the exit, "Kazuma, please ensure the captain is alright." she ordered. At this, Kouto stopped short. His feet just barely in the door.

"Go-4, remain here with him."

"Sir that isn't-"

"Lets go, Lieutenant." Kuoto turned and faced the door, his naked red eye flashing. Bishamon curled her fist and stepped in beside her superior, facing the door as it slid shut. Her eyes met Kazuma's, like a purple fire hitting turquoise water. He nodded to her once, then the heavy metal doors closed.

"I'm surprised Bishamon, coming here with only one Secur-T," his voice was level, not accusing at all. Bishamon thought of the two unconscious soldiers stuffed into a cleaning closet and cleared her throat. She signaled to Tsuguha and Akiha waiting at the bottom of the elevator.

"Yes, well, when they asked me to report to the captain's chambers I knew it was an emergency and felt it necessary to come right away. Not wanting to cause a scene, I left the rest to look after the traitors or attend to their daily duties. After all, we can't let the public notice anything's amiss. Their happiness is our top priority after all." Bishamon replied easily. Kuoto began to laugh at this. Getting louder and louder until it cut off so suddenly she thought he choked.

It was her. Bishamon's breath caught in her throat when she suddenly had a taser stuck to the side of her skull. Kuoto's good eye looked at her happily, while the glowing red orb embedded in under the ripped skin pierced her like a laser.

"I agree. Our passenger's happiness must be protected at all costs, and there's no way that can happen on a plant like Earth. They belong here, on Heaven's Sun, blindly following my every word. And if their happiness costs me a Secur-T or two," he smiled placidly, "than it's a decision I'm happy to make." The Auto twitched his finger and Bishamon let out a shout.

The sound of a body hitting the hard metal of the elevator floor shook the tube and resonated up towards the captains chamber. From his spot by the bookshelf, Kazuma flinched. He looked back towards the door, stretching his senses as far as he could but the elevator was too far down.

Kazuma shut the manual he was holding and put it back on the shelf with a sigh. He scanned the rows of books one last time, not a single one of them the unsaturated red of the plant manual that the Eve described. Kazuma looked over his shoulder, Kuguha staring unblinking, back at him. The once vocal man who would deliver resources to the Secur-T, now silent. Kazuma would have thought he was a wax statue had it not been for him following at least five steps behind. Kazuma took some air though his nose. He wasn't one for taking gambles, only calculated risks.

"Can you remind me again," Kazuma faced the Go-4 with a smile, "What's your name?" The Go-4 was unfazed.

"I obey the Co-pilot of this ship and respond to the name he gave me. Edachi." Edachi stated. Kazuma went stiff for a moment, anger boiling in his stomach, heart going out to his kind superior.

"You cast aside the name Bishamon gave you?" Kazuma narrowed his eyes at the stoic silence he received. His memory drive must have been wiped, his scanners couldn't bring up any internal data. There was something else. There were no updates from Bishamon on her well-being. Kazuma's eyes slid to the captain's bedroom, not a sign of life since the Auto and Bishamon left. Worry stretched across his chest and tugged his eyes once again to the elevator. He was a Secur-T built to serve and protect the humans of the ship. Especially the captain, who Bishamon entrusted to him.

Kazuma walked forward with his shoulders squared, not sparing a glance at Edachi. His footsteps echoed as he made his way to the door. Just as Kazuma's fingertips brushed the elevator's control pad, his wrist was grabbed. Kazuma look at his wrist, than at Edachi, eyes narrowing into hostility.

"Please forgive my rudeness, but I am under direct orders not to let you leave," Edachi said. Kazuma flicked his wrist and an elegant sword slid out of his sleeve. He swung at Edachi who leaned back just in time for the tip of the sheath to whizz by his nose.

Kazuma rolled his wrist out of Edachi's grip and moved to unsheathe his sword. It was an elegant, glowing green katakana with intricate dark green lines with small circles on the end. He signaled to these techno-stems to pulse electricity throughout the metal. The Go-4 produced a long taser, similar to the co-captain's. The two cyborgs stared at each other with narrowed eyes for a moment, then charged forward at inhuman speed. When they met, an explosion was heard.

Down stairs, once again tucked behind the towel shelves of the pool, a Wall-E was hidden with an Eve and a Mo at his side. This time, a completely and totally human man knelt beside Yato, and was working to stitch up his human skin.

"Again, Dr. Masaomi sir, I didn't know you were Hiyori's older brother, I am so sorry I thought you were trying to capture us and tried to hit you with my compactor. And about busting in your office and shooting up the place." Yato hissed as the needle weaved in and out of his tough skin. Masaomi just laughed, tugging the strings tight as Hiyori shushed him.

"That's alright. It was exciting! To think we're going to overthrow the government!" Masaomi gushed.

"Masaomi! We are not overthrowing the government!" Hiyori chided.

"Right," the doctor snapped and pointed at her, "mutiny." he said with a grin.

"Can we hurry it up please?" Yukine whispered urgently. He kept looking back at them from his spot at the edge of the shelves.

"How's it look, Yukine?" Hiyori asked. The Mo peaked out again.

"It looks like no one saw us. There have been cyborgs from the hospital escape that have passed by, but they had Secur-T bringing them into custody." Yukine said.

"What about Bishamon and Kazuma?"

"Nothing yet." Yukine crawled back and sat at Yato's head, frowning at his worsening wheezing.

"All done," Masaomi sat up with a happy sigh, "I did everything I could at skin level, so at least you don't have to worry about infection. If you even get that sort of thing. But we still need to wait for the Major General to deal with the tech stuff." Masaomi said as he wiped his hands and tools clean of blood. Yukine helped Yato into a sitting postion, both Masamoi and Hiyori stood.

"Masamoi, you need to go back to the hospital. I'm going up to help the Lueitentent General ." Hiyori said, clicking her gun snugly around her wrist.

"But! Bishamon said you needed to stay here!" Yukine urgetntly reminded. Masaomi put a hand on his little sister's shouler, the lightwieght flexible armor warm under his touch,

"He's right, leave this to the professionsonals."

"I am the professional. It is my sworn duty to get this plant into the Halo-detector and bring humanity home." Hiyori spoke with conviction. Her brother paused, mouth open slightly as his hand raised from her shoulder. Then, Masamoi smiled, and nodded to her. HIyori nodded back with a more nervous expression. She took a couple steps away before looking down at Yato. At first he seemed to be glaring at her, but he gave her a painful smile. Her heart didn't want to leave him, but if he was going to be strong for her, she could do the same. Hiyori smiled back at him, bringing some color back into his cheeks, then squared her shoulders and walked off.

Hiyori didn't even make it two steps away from their hiding spot when an explosion rocked the floor. It came from the hallway leading to the Captain's Chamber. Without a thought, Hiyori dashed towards the back of the ship. Her engine boots hitting the hard floor before scrambling to a take off. She gasped as she saw the glass of the lobby doors shattered across the floor. Bishamon laid in the middle of the lobby, Kiun on the floor beside her while Take stood between them and the co-pilot. Tsuguha and Akiha stood off to the side, Akiha welding a light blue dagger while Tsuguha crouched behind her a grey shield.

Hiyori screeched to a stop, landing unsteadily on her feet behind Bishamon. Kuoto stood blocking the elevator, which was completely wrecked. Scratches and dents lined the inside, while the doors looked like a cannon shot through them. Kuoto stepped on the pieces of metal flattening them. He hummed as his tongue licked the stream of blood that dripped from his head. His once pristine uniform was now stained and torn; something hard for even cyborgs to do to that type of fiber. Bishamon didn't look much better, the skin of her stomach looked singed and bloody.

"Ah Miss Iki, so glad you can join us. Here to avenge your boyfriend? I'll get to you in just a minute, there's someone ahead of you." Kuoto said with a smile. His arm shifted at his side and Hiyori saw he wore a gun similar to her own. The white and black metal engulfed his fore arm, stretching out into a thin nozzle. Hiyori quickly turned her pistol on him, teeth bared. In front of her, Bishamon shouted her name, and stood with a massive purple sword. When she raised it, the dark purple flame pattern began to glow.

"Now now that's not fair," Kuoto raised his hands in a huff, "Six against one? Where are your manners?" The interior of his rifle began whirl, a ball of red light gathering at its tip. He then swung it to point at Tsuguha. The young Secur-T flinched, but gripped her shield tight.

"What are you doing, sir?" Take asked in alarm.

"Tsuguha don't!" Bishamon shouted.

"It's alright Lieutenant General! I have confidence in being your shield!" Tsuguha shouted back with a forced smile. Bishamon struggled to roll on her stomach.

"No Tsuguha! You don't understand the weapon of an Auto Pilot," Bishamon stretched an arm out in desperation. The gun in Hiyori's hand began to tremble. Kuoto was in her line of vision, nothing blocking her shot. His gun was pointed elsewhere. His focus wasn't even on her. She could shot him right now and end all this.

"Now then, lets level the playing field a little bit," Kuoto said. The air hissed and whined as the ball got bigger and brighter, before firing so fast it appeared to be a spear of light. Tsuguha's shield glowed a hot orange, the molten metal a gaping hole that matched the hole in the wall behind her, and the red one in the girl's torso.

"Tsuguha!" Bishamon cried. Tsuguha's shield clattered to the ground as the cyborg's lifeless body fell to the side. Blood quickly soaked her uniform and puddled on the floor as the open wires that laced her insides sparked uselessly.

The room went silent as Kuoto let out a slow breath and waved the tip of his gun to cool it. He then looked back at Bishamon, who's hand dropped into a fist at her side.

"Hiyori," Bishamon growled low.

"Y-yes?"

"Go help Kazuma with the captain. Get him to turn on the Hallo-Detector," Bishamon commanded in a low yet powerful tone, "Akiha, follow her."

"Okay," Hiyori forced out. This was not her job. As much as she wanted to help, she would just get in the way. As an Eve, the plant needed to get to the captain. But there was no way she could make it past Kuoto. Hiyori fired on her boots and took off back out the door.

"Leaving so soon? That's not very polite," Kuoto pointed his rifle at Hiyori, "Someone should really teach you man-" he whipped his gun in front of his body just in time for Bishamon to slam her sword into it. His smile was wiped away by the sheer furosity in her expression, her mouth was pulled back to show bared teeth and her eyes cackled with intensity.

"Your opponent is me!" she howled, pushing harder against him. Kuoto narrowed his eyes with a grunt as he felt himself leaning back. She no longer cared about her own well-being, and that suited him just fine.

Hiyori could hear the Luteient General's battle cry from half way up the tower. She shook her head to focus and willed her boots to go higher. The glass still had a hole in it from Yato's fight. Hiyori went towards it, hovering so that her eyes could just peak over the ledge.

Kazuma was heaving breaths from his spot indented in the far wall. Edachi was leaning heavily against the control panel, his blood-soaked poncho torn on one side to reveal his missing hand. Kazuma pushed himself out of the wall and landed unsteadily on his feet. His body swayed as he squared his shoulders and put his hands up. The Go-4 did the same, taser held out between them.

In a flash they were at it again, Kazuma's speed and skill as a Secur-T giving him the upper hand, but what Edachi lacked in training, he made up with desperate ferocity and the raw power of electricity. Hiyori crawled in through the window, landing stealthily on the ground like a Wall-E trying to surprise an Eve.

"Kazuma!" Hiyori got their attention, her gun trained on the Go-4. Without looking down she kicked Kazuma his sword, firing at Edachi when he lunged to grab it. Kazuma scooped it up with practiced ease as Edachi landed howling in pain on the ground, the skin of his ankle burned off. Kazuma set up to face him, but Hiyori stepped forward. Akiha came barreling in across the room from the elevator. When he saw his Major with his sword pointed, his knife came out and he faced the Go-4 without another word.

"Kazuma get the captain! You're the only one who can hack the screen-lock." Hiyori narrowed her eyes as the Go-4 rose to stand. Kazuma looked between them, unsure if an Eve could handle this maniac. If he got in close quarters she was done for, Akiha would be too far away to reach her in time. For some reason, the image of a Wall-E's sharp eyes flashed across his mind and a chill went down his spine.

"Miss Iki, I dont think-"

"That won't be necessary, Eve." A voice cut off the Secur-T. Everyone turned to see the captain's door open and Tenjin sitting with his remote control in his hand.

"Captain!" Hiyori and Kazuma shouted together. The feelings of relief were drowned out when Edachi let out and inhuman roar and raced full throttle at the captain.

"Watch out!" Kazuma tried to tackled him. Hiyori shot at his feet, missing as Edachi swerved and jumped just like his superior had.

"Captian!" Hiyori cried. But Tenjin remained calm, pointing what looked like a television remote at his attacker. With one tap of a button, the Go-4 thudded to the ground, not another sound coming out of him.

"The next time I turn you off," Tenjin said to the limp body, "I expect you to stay that way." Hiyori ran to her captain, gun still pointed at the cyborg on the floor. Kazuma followed, taking the opportunity to cuff Edachi.

"Captain, what was that?" Hiyori asked. Tenjin showed her his bedroom television remote.

"Is everyone ok?" Akiha ran over, holding the Go-4's collar by the orders of the Major General.

"I spent the time in my room modifying it to activate the force shut down on the workers of this ship," he explained. Hiyori was impressed but the thought terrified her.

"This means we can shut down the Auto!" Hiyori said, a weight lifting off her chest.

"No, the Auto was not created on this ship. That type of function has to manual," Tenjin sighed, "Which means we have to get him to willingly let us."

"Or it means we'll have to force him," Kazuma stated, sheathing his sword. Hiyori looked at the kind Secur-T with shock, while the captain just wore a hard expression.

"Captain," Kazuma took a step towards them, "You're the only one who can. You're the only one who knows his blue-prints." Hiyori looked over at Tenjin, his face grave with a scowl.

"Yes, I understand. But I want him up here, away from the passengers." Tenjin insisted. Kazuma nodded in agreement. He rather that psycho away from Bishamon.

"We also have to open the Hallo-Detector! Yato and Yukine are guarding the plant right next to the pool deck!" Hiyori reminded them. Tenjin looked at her with a determined expression.

"That I can do," a thought came to him, "Eve, I'll need you to bring up your security camera. Major General, start up an official announcement to every tv, advertisement, and personal screen on this ship. Secur-T, you are to take that traitor to the jail cell and guard him with at least one other guard that you can trust." The last words were deep with importance.

"Yes sir!" The three saluted. Tenjin hovered forward towards the glowing green button. It's casing was cracked from the fight but it flashed with just as much urgency as the first time. Tenjin flipped the lid and pushed it down, causing the entire ship to turn green.

#noragami #noragami fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #wall-e #wall e

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allwillbeone · 5 years

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Me, a comic reader vs ABC’s “Marvel’s Inhumans” show ep 1 & 2, a live blogging at Discord(revised version)

Me, watching the cursed Inhumans show in few minutes and Triton got shot while Black Bolt and Medusa are having sexy time: I can't, I can't keep up with the show anymore

This is bad, I can tell the show is bad in these few minutes No I'll finish it in spite

[Under the cut because it’s a long post with a bunch of nonsense, tldr: The X-Men didn’t suffer for this]

And Medusa ignored the important call because they are having sex I can understand why the audience rooted for Maximus at first

Now for 4 minutes? The sexy time is ended but I got really cheap CGI cityscape The show is worse than I expected

The city of Attilan is uglier than any brutalist apartment And the lunascape scene looks like a Play Station 2 game, not even 3, PS2 Maximus' first appearance looks so... basic, if I didn't know he's Max I thought him one of the citizens

I really feel sorry for those actors, they are doing their job amazingly but the writing and costumes and setting and CGI and props are bad, so bad, stupidly bad

The X-Men and the Royal family didn't suffer for this

8 minutes and here we go, eugenics shit against one of their family members? And were you expecting I'm going to root for the royal family, writers?? It's really bad... I'm watching the show only 10 minutes and it already makes me hate the show

I mean, it was 2017? and this shit is worse than in 60s comics

Yeah they can't keep romani people and asian people's ethnicity but keep slavery and eugenics shits I even don't understand why MCU so much loves those facial hairs on non facial hair characters

Gorgon: let's destroy the moon rover Karnak: Wow, how mature Humans: Oh no it looks like a hoof that crushed our rover Medusa and Max: shit... BB: Okay do nothing

Umm... is this why Max thought he has to be in charge...?

Medusa, you ignored a really important call and stopped your husband to answer the call because you gave your priority to sexy time, and now you act like you are a dignified queen with authority This show makes my eyes roll hard

Suddenly Karnak starts bubbling on some nihilistic nonsense in the middle of the terrigenesis ceremony and Gorgon being a eugenicist shit against a family member again. And they'll wonder why one of them revolt against them? I also wonder why...

The scene of Lockjaw's first appearance is something off... he moves like a bad animatronics Ummm, why Crystal has to cover her hand with a cloth if they just grab terrigen crystal with the bare hand from a box?

I'm not sure I can finish the show... this is worse than what I heard...

Well, no one sans Max willing to engage the boy that seems gets nothing from terrigenesis, even the boy suddenly collapsing and having a seizure on the floor... wow, so cold. While Crystal is fawning over that cheep CGI butterfly wing girl, you are so basic, Crys

They've lost my respect one by one Only Triton and Max keep me have some respect as characters but I'm sure the writing will also screw them Poor Triton

And Triton's makeup is also... bad

The actor of Maximus really had the charisma and the charm in his acting, alas the plot and the writing are so bad

Oh Max starts his "revolution" as a pep talk to lower caste people, and he's smol, smoler than the boy, so smol, they got the actor that could represent him perfectly but Marvel was stupid so they gave him that boring superhero movie black leather and ugly facial hairs instead of iconic Jack Kirby armors or evil mad scientist lab coat

In dinner or lunch or idk, Karnak is being rude and gross out of nowhere to a female servant, and I can't understand what did the showrunner want to describe by the scene

He and Gorgon are dicks to people without any reason

Yeah, and only asian man being a dick to a white lady out of nowhere.... it seems really... a red flag And only black man being an extremely eugenics scum to his family member is... also... a big red flag

Now Max reveals Triton's death and apparently the mission was secret to even Karnak so BB is getting accused at the dinner table. And BB's excuse is "Oh no you never know he really dead" lmao And he thought it's good to invite nuhumans to the moon because "They are family" while treating your moon people with useless/no power as slaves because of the limitation of the resource? Oh yeah, you go Max, you notice the obvious problem

And BB's answer is "Not now, trust me" Oh yeah, maybe going to Earth is "not now", but "getting nuhumans from earth because they are our family uwu" is also not now imo

It's still over 20 minutes and I can't believe I can find those stupidness from the show easily

I need to eat mushrooms to survive this

Maximus: -Calling out his big bro's BS and storming out of the dining- Karnak: Maximus is dangerous, but I'm loyal to you, trust me

Karnak, it's not a good way to gain people's trust

BB takes a big gun out of Gorgon's hand. Gorgon... a gun... Crystal's dress looks like nipples are showing throw the fabric It's just a fold on the fabric apparently but uh...

Medusa: You can't trust Maximus, we can discuss that BB: -signing, apparently he doesn't want to discuss this-

Oh at least he loves his lil bro to some degree

Everything in the show looks fake af, but yes Medusa's hair is the worst

Oh no I didn't notice the scene is switching to the flashback scene because the switching sequence is bad, and it means oh no that scene

[Flashback scene: BB and Medusa first meeting] aaaaaaaaaa Um, not yet... just a short "first contact" scene...

I'm afraid Max starts wooing Medusa out of nowhere, um...

To be honest it doesn't make any sense in the narrative of the show so far but anything didn't make sense in the show so I can let it go

It's kinda ironic that Max was the one who got precognition power in comics, while he saw the chance in the boy with precog power in the show

Umm, this Iso look-like character is... Auran...?

And Auran got killed by Max(with BB's power) in comics, wow ironic

Attilan in comics: Sci-fi city with a bunch of weird spires and alien buildings Attilan in the show: Are these... maximum-security prisons???

The scene is supposed to be in the rooftop garden on the palace, but it looks like a patio in a prison.

An old guy from the genetic council: It's treason, Auran arrest him, I'm really sorry things become like this Auran: -beat the old man til death-

idk why but it feels kinda comedic...

Then the scene is Oahu island because maybe Triton is there? Wow, nice vacation Triton

While Karnak is playing with a moon rover and guarding people are like "Hey, king Maximus' order, bitch!" and Karnak is like "king Maximus? ... oh shit" lmao

Wow, Max, you are the one who made those humans shoot Triton? And now you are trying to kill Gorgon? ... well, this Gorgon has been an extremely eugenicist scum to you and never stop being a dick, I can't blame you about Gorgon in the narrative, go ahead

And those henchmen are really incompetent, where are the suspense and drama

Karnak: Maximus betrayed us and the royal guards with him Gorgon: wtf I'm the head of the royal guards Wow Gorgon, apparently you have no popularity with them...

Now the royal guards are trying to get Medusa and a fight scene begin... the CGI on her hair is soooo hideous, it's almost comedic And playing "Paint It Black"? Seriously???

Finally someone in the royal guard uses their power to take down the target instead of attacking people like humans that they are disregarding

Max, holding a hair clipper: I have no choice Medusa: If you do this I never forgive you Max: (Surprised Pikachu face meme)

TBH Medusa's line here sounds really... stupid... he's committing a coup against your husband, do you think he would mind of your feelings about your hair??? But apparently, he would mind because idk whatever reason And why they just leave her, at least confine her or do something, you are committing a coup!

youtube

Oh no THAT SCENE!!! [Flashback scene: BB killed their parents with "WHY"]

wait, is the man in the left is... younger Max? He looks like an adult man here and much older than younger BB

(No apparently it's the present BB watching his younger self, it's really confusing and I have mild prosopagnosia)

So now, royals get Hawaii vacation, congrats

And BB makes a scene in the middle of Honolulu, and Lockjaw just disappeared before things got into a big mess, bad dog

Medusa: I have to find Black Bolt -riding a bus with tourists- Karnak: I have to find my king -trying to go down a cliff and fall-

Wow, Max is talking Crys about her privilege and propagandas Crys: You make me sick, you are just a human Wow, this Crys is worse than comic Crys

not because of his personality or something, but because he has no power??? Oh yes, she needs a mediocre human's dick even she can be a eugenicist scum to her own family member The show is really bad

They only keep the bad parts of comic canon in the show

It's already over 50 minutes so far, and I can't find any good part in the show... other than those unfortunate actors' acting skills

Gorgon is walking into the sea and battling with crashing waves in vain because he feels emo for Triton

And nice surfers rescue him because... apparently... he can't swim...? And those surfers are too nice and chill, they knew Inhumans already because of plot or something like that and just listening Gorgon's story while sharing beers. They are too nice

Crys can contact Medusa because Auran just dropped her comlink and leave it? Those people are supposed to be elite guards but they are so incompetent, even can't hold their childish princess Oh apparently it was Auran's plot to catch Medusa, much better

Gorgon: You should leave Surfers: Why we have to leave our beach Gorgon: because I challenged my cousin and here will be the battleground

Umm... in that case who has to leave the beach is you, Gorgon...

Oh Eldrac was in the show, I wonder how's he now Max wants to kill BB and Gorgon especially, and not mention to Karnak, he's fine with Karnak being alive... while he's not with Gorgon, lol

[Eldrac, looks like Doh the boss character of a retro video game Arkanoid] ...is this... Eldrac...? What they have done to you, you are boring here

BB feels awkward with his outfit and tries to change to norm clothes is definitely funny, finally I can find a good intentional comedy in the show... And he steals those outfit and hurts security guy, wow

[BB is getting arrested by Honolulu cops] Definitely they should make the show as a superhuman sitcom Like make Max a fabulous mad scientist and let him commit a coup in every week, and BB and co overthrow him and take back the throne at the end of the show. In Every Week.

[BB is running away from the cops and police cruisers] This is definitely a comedy material Marvel, are you telling me this is not a comedy show?

Police officer: Taser! Taser! -shoot taser- BB: Oof -destroying a police car accident because he can't hold his voice-

This BB is a weakass, comic BB has endured far worse, how could you have sexy time with your wife if mere human taser let you lost your control!?

[Police officers are beating the shit out of BB] Wow, be nice to an alien robber, honolulu police officers

Max grabbing his hand makes the boy see those visions, but putting an assuring hand on the boy's shoulder causes nothing and they are just okay...? Hmmm...

[Auran snaps a bus driver's neck] Auran you shouldn't kill a human just because they are trying to stop you entering a bus, people will be suspicious

Auran: -finding Medusa's broken comlink in the empty bus- Me: Oh yeah, Medusa ditched the comlink to hide her whereabouts and went to search BB Medusa: -appears behind the bus and attacking Auran and starts catfighting- Me: wtf

Medusa stubbed Auran with a pocket knife... isn't she supposed to be an elite royal guard!? Why everyone is stupid and weakass Medusa takes a comlink from Auran and tells BB she'll find him and kill Max, with tearful eyes, but I even don't feel any sympathy toward those slave owners... especially to that king who tried to invite more people while many people under his rule are already suffering the overpopulation...

And the mine scene... they are supposed to be a civilization with highly advanced tech, but they have to use their own bare hands and simple tool for mining? What about letting them use more safe and effective machines? Is it too much to ask?

Oh yes, they have no tech guy other than Maximus, apparently. This was why they depend on his technology for their city defense even he'd use it for his future coup(and show!Max is not a tech guy here, so they don't have any tech guy apparently)

Okay, I can see what they wanted to do. Jenkins and Lee's Inhumans second series and Hines' Silent War. I can see many references from those comics. But they couldn't make any coherent plot and story from them.

The showrunner thought their version was "more complicated, more real, and more compelling version" than comic Max and miserably failed because they wanted to do Inhumans vol.2 and Silent War and the very core part of the story is "Max has a point but his twisted mind and impulsiveness made his execution totally bad" It's sad that Once and Future Kings haven't written before their production This is why you are the worst showrunner in the MCU, mister Buck

So... this Auran has healing factor... she doesn't have anything that makes her Auran but okay...

I finished Episode 1 & 2, it feels like eternity

#Inhumans #silly artifact insect here

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