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hope-grace-serenity · 3 years

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

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

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

The Warrant

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

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

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

Before the Reaping

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

During the Reaping

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joseph and the Voice

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

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

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

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

Wrong.

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

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

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

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

The Collapse

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

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

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

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

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

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

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

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

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mono-dot-jpeg · 4 years

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dynamite - b. katsuki

summary; life is sweet as honey, or maybe they’re as sweet as caramel!

genre; fluff, comedy, soft bakugou, best friend! mina, fluff moments w/ bakugou, tsundere! bakugou is what i live for, 3rd year! bakugou

pairing; bakugou katsuki x reader

word count; 2.8k (if you count the lyrics)

a/n: tbh the song doesn’t really fit the theme but the song is cute and i wanted to use it in a fanfic at some point. this is my longest written one shot i think [._.]

ALSO IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! LET’S FUCKIN GO, GAMERS

the song is “dynamite” by BTS, if you haven’t listened to it, please do, it slaps. i didn’t do the entire song bc im too lazy and that’s too long to write ksdjfksdjf i have a limit :monkaW:

‘Cause I, I, I’m in the stars tonight

So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight

You were one of the energetic people in class. You had got along with everyone except the explosive blonde that was Bakugou. You hung out with Mina the most which was how you got initiated into the Bakusquad. With your Quirk, Boombox, it seemed almost perfect that you were in the Bakusquad. You converted sound into explosions though there were drawbacks (that you didn’t wanna get into) of course.

Your classmates wondered if you had known Bakugou before you joined UA. On the first day, you challenged the male after you found out about his Quirk. Of course he had accepted the challenge and during Quirk Assessment, he had won. Ever since you had become another rival for him, but at least it was more of a healthy rivalry compared to him vs Midoriya (but I mean that rivalry got better overtime).

Thought there were several times where it seemed to be more than a friendly rivalry.

Shoes on, get up in the morn’

Cup of milk, let’s rock and roll

King Kong, kick the drum

Rolling on like a Rolling Stone

It was another normal day for you, except you were going to train with your Quirk. Music was blasting in your headphones as you mutter the lyrics, small explosions popping on your hands.

Before you could leave, Bakugou stopped you. “Oi, dumbass.” You looked up at him, sending him a smile. “You going to train?” You nodded at the male.

“Mhm! You wanna come with? I wanna practice working with my quirk! Let me practice with you!” You said eagerly.

“Ugh, you’re like an annoying puppy, you dumbass. I shouldn’t be inviting you to your own practice.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course, I’m coming with you.” He bonked your head before you rubbed the spot he had hit.

“Hey! You’re like an angry Pomeranian! You’re not any different from me! Come on! Let’s go! I’ll beat you this time!” You said, starting to pull him by the arm as he quickly protested to the physical contact but made no move to tug his arm away.

“Like you’ll beat me. I’m still gonna win.” He scoffed. “And who you callin’ Pomeranian?! You fuckin’ dumbass!” You smiled at him in reply as you btoh made your way to the training areas in UA.

“Can I play some music?” He grumbles as you take it as a sign of agreement. You smile brightly, playing your favorite music. You were experimenting if you had to be the one to make the sound of if you could use sound from other sources. You had always assumed that you had you make the sound yourself.

And so the training started. Within seconds, the sound of explosions and yells ringed in the room. Neither of you went easy on each other. It almost felt like a match in the UA Sports Festival. You and Bakugou never went against each other during it due to the fact you lost when you went against Tokoyami. You couldn’t use anything to fight against Dark Shadow well enough.

As the fight between you and Bakugou continued, you had used your quirk with the loud beat of the music. So, I can use my quirk with music! You had thought. Soon the fight ended with Bakugou winning, much to your disappointment. “I almost got you there!” You said as Bakugou sees the determined glint in your eyes, ready to go against him once again.

He chuckled, moving his hand on the top of your head and started to ruffle your hair which earned your surprise. It wasn’t until he playfully shoved you, yelling at you, “Come on! You weren’t even close, dumbass!” You swore you saw pink on his face, maybe it was from the heat in the room (from the fight) but you weren’t sure…

Sing song when I'm walking home

Jump up to the top, LeBron

It was a day off in the dorms. You had been in your room all day pretty much. This was usually normal behavior as you played video games in your free time when you weren't studying or gaming. But more often than not, you forgot that you had to care of yourself during off days. Kirishima had went out with the rest of the Bakusquad, leaving you and Bakugou in the dorms with whoever else was there.

You were ending a comp game with some friends who you often six-stacked with. “Yeah, I’ll see you guys later.” They left the group, leaving you to play a few quick play games. You were still in queue until loud knocks echoed in your room, effectively shocking you. “Who is it?” You asked, after getting over your shock.

“Open up idiot!” Bakugou said. You feel like if he bashed any harder on your door, it might just break. You stop the queue and open the door, revealing the blonde male. “How long have you been in your room? You look like shit.”

“Well...how honest do I have to be to answer your question?” The answer you gave him was enough as he soon put you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “W-what are you doing?!”

Ding-dong, call me on my phone

Ice tea and a game of ping pong

“You haven’t eaten have you?”

“W-well, do small snacks count?”

“No, you fucking idiot.” He took you to the kitchen, putting you down onto a seat as you huffed at him, “Actually fucking eat a meal!”

“Aw, you care about me!”

“W-what? SHUT UP DUMBASS! IF YOU WANNA BEAT ME, DO IT WHEN YOU’RE AT YOUR BEST!” You nodded, laughing a bit at his reaction. He had made some curry with rice, handing a plate over to you while he grumbled about you not eating all day and staying in your room.

“I’ll still beat you! No matter what!” You smiled before you ate. You had realized that this was one of the few times that Bakugou did this on the weekends. “But still, thanks for worrying about me!”

“Shut up! I wasn’t worrying!” His face was red. You wondered if it was from the anger or something else.

This is getting heavy, can you hear the bass boom? I'm ready (Woo-hoo)

Life is sweet as honey, yeah, this beat cha-ching like money, huh

You were at the mall with the Bakusquad (Bakugou included of course). You and Mina were gossiping and talking most of the time. You had suggested to go to the arcade but Mina insisted on dressing you up in some cute clothes before you did. But maybe Mina just wanted to buy clothes for herself as well. You didn’t mind catering to your best friend for a while.

The boys of the squad didn’t go off too far from you and Mina as they decided to go into a video game store for a bit while you and Mina indulged yourself in the cute clothes.

“You’ll look great in it, y/n! Trust me!” Mina encouraged. You smiled nervously at the female before moving into the changing rooms to change. Unknown to you, a certain blonde had been glancing over at you from the video game store window.

“It’s pretty cute!” You stepped out and Bakugou almost choked on air. The waistband of the skirt hugged your waist comfortably as the black graphic tee was loosely tucked in. Now if you were someone else, Bakugou probably would’ve called you some dumb shit like a basic e-girl or something like that. But you pulled it off.

“You need to buy it!” Now, Bakugou couldn’t hear you from how far the stores were. Mina took this chance. “I think Bakugou likes it.” Mina glanced over to the video game store, tilting her head to gesture you to look at Bakugou. You glanced over for a second, locking eyes with the male as you feel your face heat up.

Disco overload, I'm into that, I'm good to go

I'm diamond, you know I glow up

Hey, so let's go

You did buy the outfit. And you made your way to the boys. You couldn’t muster up too much courage, suddenly hyper aware about the blonde’s actions. You all eventually arrived at the arcade, your hyper awareness wiped away as you saw the DDR machines.

“Hey Mina! Let’s go! You think you could beat me this time?” You joked as you accidentally bumped shoulders with Bakugou, trying to call out to Mina. Mina was too busy with Kiri and Sero, making you pout. “Damn, meanie. Hey Bakugou?” You dragged out his name, earning a huff from him.

“I don’t dance.”

“Well, it’s not really dancing! Are you scared that I’m gonna beat you?” You can feel his competitiveness flare up at the question.

“No way in hell am I scared!” He grabbed your wrist, dragging you to one of the DDR machines. “I’ll beat you, dumbass!” You laughed as you let him drag you.

“Okay!” You stood on the colorful arrows as you picked a song. “I’ll win against you, Bakugou! This is my main game!” You said, fully confident in your skills. He ‘tched’ before the song started. As the song went on, Bakugou seemed to care less about winning and more about the bright smile on your face.

'Cause I, I, I'm in the stars tonight

So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight (Hey)

Shining through the city with a little funk and soul

So I'ma light it up like dynamite, woah-oh-oh

You weren’t one to have bad days but today just really seemed like a bad day. Hero training was more draining than usual, one of your friends from general studies seemed to be avoiding you for some reason, and you got in trouble with Aizawa today. Nothing could be worse. It was a stressful day and you weren’t happy at all.

The whole Bakusquad seemed to notice this. “Hey Bakugou, you should go talk to y/n!” Kiri suggested as the squad watched you do house work as per the punishment Aizawa had granted you with.

Bring a friend, join the crowd

Whoever wanna come along

“Why me?!”

“Well, you and y/n seem really close. Plus I’m scared that they might just snap at me. They’ve been having a bad day lately. Maybe you could help them out.”

“Aren’t you guys their friends?!”

“Just go do it, bro!” Kiri encouraged, pushing the blonde towards you.

Bakugou went up to you. “Hey, dumbass, let’s, uh, talk after you’re done with cleaning. Meet me at my room, idiot.” He spat out at you. He seemed oddly nervous. He hated that feeling. How you made him feel like that like it was nothing. You looked at Bakugou, confused for a moment before nodding.

You arrived at the door to his room, knocking softly on it. “What did you wanna talk about, Bakugou?” Before you could react, you were pulled into his room and right into his arms. Your face was forced to rest on his shoulder as you can feel his warmth radiating on you.

Word up, talk the talk

Just move like we Off The Wall

“Y-you looked fuckin’ stressed today. You don’t need to tell me what’s wrong. You can let it out.” There was just something about his words that started to make you cry. You could feel your stress leave you as Bakugou stays silent, comforting you without words. After you finished crying, he starts to speak again, “I’m not good with words, you know this, but I’m, uh, here for you. But don’t get any ideas, dumbass!”

You looked up at him, seeing pink dusted on his face. You start to giggle. “Why are you laughing, idiot!?” He asked as you start to laugh more, your Quirk accidentally activating as it make little sparks in the air.

“You’re-you’re just really cute!” You said honestly with that bright smile of yours. Bakugou can feel blood rush up to his cheeks.

“I’M NOT CUTE!” The blonde growled, making you laugh more. Eventually, he got over his anger. “Don’t call me cute!” But he was glad that you were happier now after you finished crying. He didn’t know if it was the sparks from your Quirk or the light from his room but you seemed to shine brighter than the sun when you smiled.

Day or night the sky's alight

So we dance to the break of dawn

You fumbled with your outfit as Mina continued to do your makeup. It was a special night. Prom night. You, of course, were going with the Bakusquad. You sort of wished Bakugou asked you out but he would never really do something like that.

“Are you sure I look good?” You asked Mina.

“You look great! I’m sure Bakugou will like it!” She teased, sending a red flush to your cheeks. You stood up, dusting yourself off. “Ahh! You look so amazing! All the boys and girls will want ya!” You laughed at Mina’s words, tucking some of your hair back.

You and Mina soon gathered with the others in the living room. Once you entered the room, Bakugou was pretty sure he lost his breath at the sight of you. You were so damn beautiful.

Ladies and gentlemen, I got the medicine

So you should keep ya eyes on the ball, huh

This is getting heavy

Can you hear the bass boom? I'm ready (woo hoo)

“Hey guys! You ready?” You asked, walking over to the squad with Mina having an arm wrapped around your own. You looked at Bakugou and how shocked he was, you simply smiled as you looked up at the male. He can feel blood rush to his face, soon turning away to cover his face.

You all chatted for a while until you arrived at UA. They had (conveniently) set up a ballroom like room for all the 3rd year students. It was pretty loud and crowded. It felt a fairy tale if you were being honest. It was such a magical feeling though. You loved it.

Though you didn’t join Mina and the others on the floor to dance, you were perfectly content with seeing everyone enjoy themselves as you stood on the sidelines.

“So, why are you with the damn idiots dancing?” Bakugou’s voice pierces right through your thoughts.

“I like to see them enjoy themselves. Plus I can’t dance unless I’m playing DDR.” You joked with a small smile as you sipped on your drink.

“You think they care if you’re good at dancing, look at Pikachu and his dumbass.” Bakugou slightly gestured to said male who was terribly dancing, making you laugh a bit.

“Well, why aren’t you dancing?”

Because I wanted to just look at you.. is what he wanted to say but didn’t. “You think I dance?”

“Maybe your mom taught you a thing or two.” You teased slightly. “I would pay to see you dance.”

Life is sweet as honey

Yeah, this beat cha-ching like money

“Then dance with me.” You looked at him, your e/c eyes glinted with surprise. “Pay to see me dance by dancing with me.” It felt everything slowed down for a moment and slowly faded. It felt like it was just you and Bakugou. Your heart is beating loudly with the music as Bakugou offers you his hand. “Come on idiot, I’m not gonna wait forever.” You can see the smirk on his face but it’s so teasing and his crimson eyes are glinted with confidence and playfulness.

Disco overload, I'm into that, I'm good to go

I'm diamond, you know I glow up

You take his hand. He leads you onto the dance floor, the rest of squad cheering you guys on. It takes you a bit but you start to get into it as much as Bakugou does. Everyone in your class and the other 3rd year classes are joining you but it only feels like it’s just you and Bakugou.

Both of you seem to be in sync with each other and it’s like the song playing was only made for you two.

Let's go

'Cause I-I-I'm in the stars tonight

So watch me bring the fire and set the night alight (hey)

The song soon starts to end and your hands are intertwined with his as you’re only looking at each other. You can smell burnt caramel as he tugs you closer to his chest. It’s like everything stopped when you both stand there while the song is getting closer to the end. Before you both knew it, your lips are connecting with his.

Shining through the city with a little funk and soul

So I'ma light it up like dynamite!

242 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 4 years

Text

PatB Oneshot: Every Rose Has Thorns and Petals

Summary: Brain’s plan is simple: create a Valentine card with a message that the world should adore him as their new ruler. But he needs extra help in coming up with a catchy message to rein in the consumers for the outer cover. And who better to help than the expert of all things amour?

AN: I decided to see if I could write a good Suavo. Enjoy! Warning for terribly cheesy flirting. I don’t typically write this genre XD

This borrows from the HC that Pinky can still do the Suavo persona.

Written for Valentine's Day/Suavo Sunday. I regret everything.

AO3 Link

At last, a new plan came to fruition! With Valentine’s Day looming upon them with its chocolate-coated fangs and sickly sweet aroma, people would be flocking to grocery stores everywhere to purchase giant teddy bears they could barely carry around and heart-shaped boxes of gourmet chocolate. But most lucrative of all, they would buy Valentine cards with the most obnoxious lovestruck messages that were far cheesier than Pinky’s cheesecake.

Everything clicked into place. The slightly larger than average dimensions of a Valentine’s card. Various red and pink hues for the envelopes. Colorful images with hearts, roses, and Pinky on the front cover (for Pinky met all of the scientific criteria that triggered one’s protective instincts). And on the inside, an image of Brain standing on the world in royal regalia with a message declaring that all the world shall adore him as their new leader.

But there was a single, glaring flaw to his otherwise brilliant plan.

He could not come up with a ridiculous phrase for the outside cover. It had to be eye-catching, humorous, or corny enough to grab a customer’s attention. He stared at the smiling picture of Pinky for several minutes, then gave in.

Pinky was the expert in all things ridiculous after all.

“Life is the road I wanna keep going! Love is a river and I wanna keep going ooonnnn!” Pinky sang along to his playlist, leading a Barbie doll in a tender waltz.

And it was best to interrupt before Pinky’s playlist reached My Heart Will Go On. That sappy 90s love ballad was on there. He was not striking the King of the World pose until he was actually king of the world, but that assertion hadn’t gotten through Pinky’s cotton-stuffed head yet.

Brain grabbed the prototype card and pencil, marching up to the windowsill where Pinky and Barbie danced under the evening sky. The sun lowered, the moon rose, and the first twinkling stars poked out, signifying the beginning of another night.

The phone was propped against a wall, and Brain smacked the image of Anastasia and Dmitri dancing to stop the song as he passed by. Pinky continued to hum, dipping Barbie low enough that her blonde hair touched the windowsill. His eyes were half-lidded, tail swishing to an invisible beat. Though there was no music, his rhythm was steady and his feet never missed a step.

It was mesmerizing. Pinky danced with all the grace of a professional ballerina.

He pricked his finger on a sharp point of the prototype card, and the poke brought Brain back to reality. Right. No distractions.

“Hiya, Brain! Zort!”

Dear Archimedes there were otherworldly blue eyes right in front of his face.

Startled, Brain leapt back and swung his pencil defensively. There was a muffled narf as the eraser end went into Pinky’s mouth. Once the initial shock passed, Pinky giggled and nibbled on the eraser, several rubbery shavings poking out between his teeth.

Brain took a deep breath, trying to calm his too-fast heartbeat.

“Quit slobbering on my erasers, Pinky,” Brain snapped. He removed his pencil from Pinky’s mouth, wrinkling his nose at the saliva-coated eraser. He tossed it aside, and the pencil skittered across the counter and onto the floor.

“But they taste so good!” Pinky licked his lips. “Especially with a pinch of dryer lint. That way you get fluff and chewiness in one single fantastic bite!”

Sometimes he truly worried for the state of Pinky’s digestive tract. For now, it was best to change the topic entirely. “As much as I’d love to debate the intricacies of your exotic cuisine, I require some of your eccentric expertise for my latest plan,” Brain said, setting the prototype card on the counter.

Pinky’s tail and ears perked up. A predictable reaction, but reliable all the same.

While Pinky put Barbie away, Brain retrieved a new pencil. There were few writing utensils that weren’t chewed up by a bored employee or Pinky for fun, and it wouldn’t be long before Brain would have to acquire more.

“I gotta help Brain now, Barbie. Thanks for sharing a dance with me! Those ballroom dance classes are really paying off!” Pinky chirped, waving to the inanimate Barbie, who now sat in a pink plastic convertible next to a shirtless Ken doll. He peeked inside the card and clasped his hands together, holding them against his cheek dreamily. “Awww, Brain! This is gonna be so romantic!”

“The very atmosphere I intend to create with these mass-produced cards, Pinky,” Brain replied. “However, while I have all the elements of your typical Valentine card alongside an additional message that will aid us in our conquest, I haven’t worked out one essential component yet.”

He closed the card and tapped the empty speech bubble next to Pinky’s image.

Pinky tilted his head. “You haven’t figured out how to make single people buy your cards yet?”

Drat. He hadn’t considered those outliers.

“Then we’ll just have to infiltrate the postal service,” Brain said, mentally congratulating himself on correcting that error quickly. “But before we implement the plan, I need a Valentine phrase for this speech bubble. A saying that will entice the average infatuated consumer and hook them into purchasing my cards alone. And since you lean heavily toward the sentimental and saccharine…well, this is where I require your assistance.”

“The sentimental and the saccharine?” Pinky echoed. “I don’t think I’ve heard of that soap opera, Brain. What channel is it on?”

Brain opened his notebook and found an empty page, poised to jot down Pinky’s suggestions. “The real life channel. Don’t be concerned about missing it, Pinky. It’s on 24/7 all year long. But I digress. The sooner I find a phrase, the sooner we’ll have the world!”

Pinky tapped his foot in thought, the tip of his tongue poking out like he truly believed protruding tongues had the power to magically grant ideas. For all Brain knew, Pinky probably believed that.

Then Pinky snapped his fingers. “I got it! How ‘bout ‘be mine, valentine’?”

“Too cliché,” Brain muttered. A million Valentine cards would already have similar phrasing. They didn’t have time to seize control of a greeting card factory. “Not unique enough.”

Although the valentine bit wasn’t particularly directed toward him, his grip on the pencil slackened, the tip leaving a graphite smudge along the margins. He quickly turned the pencil around and erased it, hoping Pinky didn’t catch onto his brief moment of inattention.

Fortunately, Pinky didn’t notice. “Alrighty then. Hmmm…you’re the sour cream to my cheese-slathered potato?”

“…I’ll save it for a last resort.”

Well, he asked for unique. But sour cream didn’t particularly invoke strong Valentine feelings. Idioms that involved sweet foods with enough sugar to induce diabetes in an elephant would be better, and he made a quick note to the side.

“I turtle-y adore you?” Pinky suggested, his blue eyes sparkling accordingly.

Brain felt a light blush settling over his cheeks, and he rubbed his fur to rid himself of the mortifying feeling. “Doesn’t match your picture. And no animal puns unless they involve mice.”

Pinky rubbed his chin, not one to be easily deterred. “There’s gotta be some good ones on the Internet.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Pinky,” Brain sighed. He sat cross-legged on the counter, massaging his forehead to intercept any headaches before they began. “Figured we should’ve gone with the photobooth plan. It’s your fault for influencing my subconscious with your caterwauling over The Princess Bride’s movie adaptation.”

“Troz! I’ll have you know Princess Buttercup and Westley have great chemistry!” Pinky pouted.

Brain rolled his eyes. “Please. They’re about as compatible as two noble gases.”

Pinky went quiet after that. Whether he’d gone off into the imaginary world of talking cheeses or taken unusually great offense on the lead couple’s behalf, Brain wasn’t sure. But the silence obliged, and Brain took the opportunity to ponder their next course of action.

Take a risk and use one of Pinky’s earlier suggestions? Scrap the plan entirely and pull one from storage? Seek a second opinion?

Then Pinky gasped, his tail pointing high in the air like an inverted exclamation point.

“Brain, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Pinky asked, gripping Brain’s shoulders in excitement.

Brain leaned back, supporting himself on the palms of his hands. “We break out the Feldman disguises and ask Mr. Sultana for his opinion on what a hypothetical Valentine card should say?”

“I’m sure he’s got a bunch of good ones, but that’s not it,” Pinky said. “Actually, I oughta slip into something more…in-character. I’ll be right back!”

Pinky skipped away, humming as he went over to his dress-up box in the corner of their cage. He pulled a divider around himself so that all Brain could see was a shadowy silhouette rummaging through clothing and accessories.

Brain continued to ponder, though no feasible ideas were coming to him. He closed his eyes, shutting out all visual forms of distraction. He listened to Pinky dressing in the cage, but it was more white noise than a true hindrance.

Five minutes later, he still had nothing. But there was something…different.

A tantalizing scent. Not overly sharp, though just light enough that he couldn’t identify it with confidence. And he wanted to know more.

It wasn’t fruit or soap. Nor was it vanilla, like the scented candles Pinky loved so much.

Something smooth snaked its way under his nose, brushing the fur above his lips. The scent was closer now. His nose twitched.

“ACHOO!”

Startled by the force of his sudden sneeze, Brain’s eyes flew open. He rubbed his nose to wipe off the lingering sensation, staring down at Pinky’s long tail, which sat unassumingly in his lap. The tip was wrapped around the stem of a small red rose.

The tail lifted, rubbing against the fur under Brain’s chin. Brain felt his cheeks heat up again, and he quickly batted the offending appendage away.

“Pinky, you’re not helping my state of-“ Brain began, ready to launch into a verbal tirade on how he needed to think and if Pinky wasn’t going to help then he could make like a mitotic cell and split…and then he saw a very familiar, perhaps all too-familiar, lavender tuxedo with an overstuffed dark purple…something underneath.

He couldn’t tell if it was a shirt, vest, or pincushion. A gold button glinted in the middle of Pinky’s chest.

Gulping, Brain knew the mysterious article of clothing was the least of his concerns. He forced himself to look up, gaze raking past the slender neck and toward half-lidded, coy blue eyes. A sophisticated mustache poked out from each side of Pinky’s muzzle. And he was genteel, charismatic…

Suave.

Pinky’s ability to play a character to perfection never ceased to astound him. He still remembered? Brain had long destroyed the Personalitron and its blueprints, deeming them unnecessary and cumbersome.

“Pardonnez-moi, you with the giant head and marshmallow body are seeking the passionate advice of I, the great Pinky…Suavvvo-“ he drawled every syllable with that odd French accent, r’s rolling off his tongue like smooth butter “-for your…ah, Saint Valentine card, no?”

Fu—choose your words wisely—I mean, dear name of a historical contributor to the scientific or mathematical field who I can’t identify properly at this time.

“I fail to see how playing dress-up is going to help with this conundrum, Pinky Suavo.” Brain stood up and crossed his arms. He wasn’t about to let the Suavo persona sway him. He was the Brain, and he bowed to no one.

Exert control over the situation. Yes. That’s what he needed.

Suavo plucked the rose from his tail between two practiced fingers, inhaling its scent deeply. Where did he even get that rose from? The lab wasn’t growing flora for any reason, nor did any scientist have the green thumb to care for anything so fragile.

“Oh, but love is always…how did you say, a conundrum, is it not?” he purred, and Brain scowled. But Suavo was unperturbed. “One may pluck the petals from a pretty flower and ask if one loves or loves not, yet how will one know if they ask the flower and not the lover? Oh, I do not know.”

His voice dipped into a lower, softer register, and a strange sensation traveled up Brain’s spine. Though the riddle seemed directed at him, he wasn’t in the mood to unravel any cryptic meanings.

Just like before, Suavo’s magnetism was…hypnotizing. Like he had no choice but to do what Pinky Suavo said. And wasn’t that ironic? He, the Brain, as the hapless follower instead of the commanding leader.

Suavo appeared oblivious to Brain’s internal dilemma. He simply set the rose back into his tail and twirled one curled end of the mustache around his finger, humming a dreamy, sentimental song to himself. He was waiting on Brain in the most irritating fashion possible.

But if he wanted this plan to work, he’d just have to tolerate Pinky’s attempt at resolving his predicament.

“Pinky Suavo,” Brain sighed, forcing all his pride back. Suavo turned to him, his eyes still in that odd half-lidded position. “Is that overstuffed pincushion actually giving you ideas for the card?”

“Of course, mon ami.” Suavo slicked his ears and fur tuft back with a smooth, graceful stroke of his hand. “For it is he, who is I, who is the connoisseur of…ammooooouuuur.”

Brain grabbed his notepad and pencil, his stomach doing odd backflips like butterflies had somehow burrowed their way into his flesh and laid eggs there. He was not paying attention to Suavo’s hand movements. No, the eye was just naturally drawn to movement. That’s how it worked.

Besides, he was looking at the same being who once managed to get all his fingers and tail tangled up in a complicated cat’s cradle.

Suavo clicked his tongue, deftly plucking the items out of Brain’s grip. “No, no, you silly mouse. You cannot experience amour through pen and paper alone. You must feel it, see it, hear it. For it is everywhere and anywhere you search…if only you would use those big ears of yours.”

Brain gritted his teeth and jumped for his supplies, but Suavo simply held them out of reach with one long arm. All Brain could manage was a tiny hop. It wasn’t getting him anywhere.

So he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

“I’m listening, Pinky Suavo,” Brain said, hoping he sounded at least a little cordial. “I believe the colloquial is, I’m all ears?”

A pleased smile flitted across Suavo’s face, his arm lowering.

Perfect.

Then Brain threw himself forward, digging his hands and feet into Suavo’s clothing and hauling himself towards the notepad and pencil. Fortunately, it wasn’t hard to grip. Suavo stumbled a bit, but he refused to yield. Brain grabbed a fabric fold on Suavo’s right shoulder. He was so close-

-and a red nose pushed into his own. Warm, mint-scented breath tickled the fur on his face.

“You know, it is more, ah, polite to take a mouse to dinner before you begin climbing him, is it not?” Suavo crooned.

Brain’s ears flopped against his back, a warm sensation sweeping through his body. His clammy paws lost their grip on Suavo’s clothing, and he would’ve fallen entirely if Suavo’s free arm hadn’t wrapped around his waist and secured him with a strong yet gentle grip.

In hindsight, perhaps his attempt at reclaiming his belongings was ill-thought out.

Perhaps it was for the best that the arm was covered by fabric, but at the same time, some irrational thought of wanting Pinky’s fur against his own wormed its way into his mind.

Suavo set the notepad and pen down with care, dipping Brain in the process. Brain clutched the fabric tightly, but it was unnecessary. Suavo’s embrace was strong enough to prevent him from landing on his head. Then Suavo straightened up, once again plucking the rose from his tail and holding it next to Brain.

“Oh, now this is…magnifique,” Suavo murmured, his eyes darting from the rose to Brain’s face. Though Brain tried to maintain eye contact to make his displeasure known, his resolve was quickly crumbling away. Surely it was the close proximity, the thumb stroking his fur, that was picking apart all rational thought and leaving some hormone-driven creature behind?

“What?” Brain asked, and he inwardly cringed. His voice wasn’t working properly. He’d meant to sound more demanding than that pathetic excuse of a question.

“Your eyes, mon ami, are just a few shades lighter this rose,” Suavo said. Brain stared at him in disbelief. Comparing eyes to flowers, or worse, gemstones, was just ridiculous.

And your comparison of Pinky’s aesthetically pleasing eyes to the wild blue yonder above isn’t?

Brain ignored the contemptuous voice. That was completely different. The sky was neither a flower nor a gemstone, and therefore it wasn’t off-limits. Besides, it was a thought for him and him alone. It’s not like anyone else was going to hear it.

“You are but a deer mouse in the headlights. Yet there is no need to hide under a thorny layer,” Suavo hummed, tilting his head curiously. Deliberately. How strange. Even the slightest movement was mesmerizing. His fingers traveled up the flower stem, until his hand rested underneath the petals, supporting the tiny rose in the palm of his hand. “A rosebush may scratch and prick, yet the great Pinky Suavo cannot be swayed. For there’s a pretty bloom hidden in the darkness, and he is who moi shall…shall…NARF!”

Shocked by the return of the nonsensical exclamation, Brain lost his hold on Pinky Suavo’s clothing. He fell onto the counter surface with a pained groan. The hard material wasn’t doing wonders for the bends in his tail.

Something fluttered against his nose, causing Brain to sneeze again. He removed the offending object, and found himself staring down at the rose he’d been teased with. If he ignored the heavy-handed rose imagery Suavo kept spouting, it was rather adequate for a specimen.

“Narf! Zort! Poit! Egad!” Pinky laughed uncontrollably between his usual tics, uttering them at such a fast rate that they started to blend together like a tongue twister. “Ooh, I haven’t—troz! Haven’t said narf in a long time! But it’s poit—it’s okay cause you needed my help!”

Idiot.

Brain sighed and pushed himself to a standing position, then placed the rose on his notepad so Pinky could reclaim it later.

Now that he thought about it, Pinky hadn’t said any of his favorite syllables in his Suavo persona. Of course, they’d been replaced by stupid love poetry and gratuitous French, but the narfs and poits and zorts were rather refreshing.

Odd. He never thought he’d actually miss Pinky’s…unique diction.

“Pinky, were you actively suppressing your usual speech patterns in your strange form of assistance?” Brain asked. He couldn’t help his curiosity.

“Zort! Oh Brain, I’m not nearly as good as suppressing things like you are!” Pinky’s chortles continued as Brain grabbed his wrist and led him straight to the water bottle in their cage. “Besides—narf! Besides, I had to stay in character!”

“Remind me to never have you play a villain for any future plans revolving around cinema,” Brain grumbled.

Pinky’s tail happily flicked against Brain’s own. Though the imbecile was just swishing it around mindlessly, the brief physical contact suddenly brought back that very odd, warm sensation.

Curse this heightened sensitivity! It’s only a principle of thermodynamics and heat transfer!

“Brain, are you okay? Poit,” Pinky asked as Brain made him sit down in front of the water bottle. “You’re all woozy and whirlywindy. And white and red all over like a newspaper!”

“I’m f-fine,” Brain said. He was absolutely not relying on Pinky for balance. “Just drink, Pinky. And take off those silly clothes when you’re done.”

Pinky stared, not comprehending anything Brain said, but that was normal for him. Then he started to laugh, and only then did Brain realize he needed to watch his word choice, especially around a certain someone, because of course his fluff-filled mind would misconstrue it.

“Not like that!” Brain spat.

Pinky tipped onto his back, legs kicking upwards as his high-pitched laughter continued to assault Brain’s ears.

For the sake of his own sanity, he left Pinky to his own devices and stormed over to the nearest sink. He pushed on the tap for cold water until he’d created his own miniature waterfall, then hopped right in. He welcomed the cascade over his body.

As long as it pushed his homeostasis in the opposite direction, he was fine with resembling a drowned rat for now.

o-o-o-o-o

The plan failed before it ever took off. Brain had been so distracted that he’d failed to notice the lab was completely out of colored ink, rendering the copy machines completely useless.

He’d gone with the ‘you’re the sour cream to my potatoes’ message for the front cover, formatting it into the speech bubble in an elegant cursive font. Though it wasn’t conventional by any means, he simply considered it again since no other suggestions were forthcoming.

But at the same time, part of him wasn’t keen on allowing the masses to lay eyes on the Valentine card.

It seemed special. Unexplainably so.

“Brain?” Pinky called. His verbal tics had long gone back to their normal frequency. “Aren’t we taking over the world tonight?”

Brain shook his head, relieved that he finally had control over his body again. “Not tonight, Pinky. I’m afraid I’ve been prematurely thwarted by the lack of inventory in this lab.”

“Oh, you don’t have to be afraid, Brain,” Pinky said. Gone were Suavo’s clothing and mustache, and Pinky’s lean, muscular arms were on full display as he folded them across his chest. “I’ll protect you from Tory.”

It was an unnecessary gesture, but Brain couldn’t help but be touched by the admission all the same. Brain made a show of carefully placing the card into storage, just so he could distract himself momentarily.

When he finished his task, he found Pinky holding an elegant paper rose, crafted meticulously with purple tissue paper. A light blush settled over Brain’s cheeks as he accepted the gift from Pinky, whose blue eyes shone brightly as Brain ran his fingers over the soft petals.

“Thank you, Pinky,” Brain said gratefully, and he resisted the urge to rush off immediately and place the paper rose with his globe keychain, another gift from his dearest friend.

“You’re welcome!” Pinky smiled, and Brain’s heart beat faster. Then Pinky’s gaze flicked to the TV screen, and Brain figured he was about to be roped into watching a cheesy love story unfold. “Brain, can we watch Beauty and the Beast please? With those special Valentine M&M’s and chocolate-coated popcorn? I saw a whole bunch in the kitchen! Narf!”

Well…he could’ve suggested worse. At least this one was tolerable.

And it’s been a while since they’d watched a movie together.

“Get everything set up, Pinky,” Brain ordered. “I’ll join you when I’m finished with my own tasks.”

Pinky saluted and scampered into the kitchen, grabbing the rose he’d held in his Suavo persona along the way. He sang at the top of his lungs, though he’d forgotten most of the actual words and replaced them with a series of narfs and portmanteaus. Once Pinky was sufficiently distracted, Brain moved his notepad and pen over to the TV, then laid the paper rose over it.

He heard the crinkle of a bag followed by the sound of M&M’s being poured into a bowl. Pinky would be back any minute.

Brain knocked his head against the side of a wall.

Calm yourself. Pinky believes pebbles are precious gifts. You’ll be fine. Probably.

Slowly, he approached the drawer where he’d kept his hidden present. Sifting through several sheets of paper covered with complex formulas he’d deliberately placed in there to ward off Pinky, he found the sunflower pen he’d carefully hidden towards the back.

It wasn’t exactly…traditional for a Valentine’s gift. Simple blue ink with a green body and tipped with a bright yellow sunflower.

But it was bright. And colorful. Like Pinky.

More importantly, it was practical.

Brain’s ears twitched, and he heard the whirring of the VCR as Pinky popped in the movie. Brain debated leaving the pen and presenting it after the movie, but he didn’t want to procrastinate either. Otherwise it would be impossible to enjoy their activity.

Well, he could just drop it in Pinky’s lap. And snatch up some popcorn so his actions wouldn’t be too conspicuous. He climbed out of the drawer, holding the pen behind his back.

A preview for The Little Mermaid began to play. Pinky was enraptured by the animated marine animals. He seemed so happy.

Maybe he should reconsider. Valentine items would be discounted next week. He could just hold off and give a belated…what was he thinking? Valentine’s was just another day to turn profit!

The paper rose was sitting right there. No…Valentine’s meant something to Pinky. Like Christmas.

“Goody, you’re back, Brain!” Pinky cheered, stuffing two pink M&M’s into his mouth. The large bowl beside him was overflowing with chocolate. “It’s not raining inside, but I love your parasol! Where’d you buy it?”

A parasol?

He glanced up at the sunflower. Oh. So there was a resemblance to a parasol, he supposed. If one viewed it at a certain angle, that is.

“It’s a pen. Not a parasol. Take it,” Brain said, holding out the sunflower pen.

Pinky didn’t take it.

Instead, he made a joyful noise and crushed Brain with a flying embrace. Brain dropped the pen in surprise as Pinky’s entire body curled around him, feet off the ground. Brain had to support all his weight, Pinky’s warm fur brushing against his own.

“I love it! Loveitloveitloveit! Thanks, Brain!” Pinky squealed, happy tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“You’re welcome, Pinky,” Brain murmured as Pinky nuzzled his cheek. “Now get off. I require my lungs. And heart. And my digestive system.”

Pinky didn’t get off until the Disney fanfare to herald the beginning of the movie began to play. Then he quieted down immediately, rolling the sunflower pen so that it rested across his lap.

“…happy Valentine’s Day,” Brain whispered, nibbling on a red M&M.

Pinky smiled back, teeth flecked with bits of chocolate. He shushed Brain, not wanting him to interrupt the opening narration.

As the enchanted rose appeared onscreen, Brain stroked the soft tissue paper of Pinky’s beautiful creation. Then he set it aside and reached for some popcorn.

His world was here. And there was nothing more he wanted.

Fun fact: the original name for this fic was going to be Suavo Valentino, but the current title was a last minute change cause somehow I just wrote a lot about roses.

Another change: The Princess Bride bit was originally a dig at High School Musical and how Disney Channel has bad romance in general, but since that was mid 2000s I changed it so this story could reasonably fit in the 90s.

Suavo’s lines...were interesting. I couldn’t stop laughing at how dumb some of them were though.

Brain’s got it bad here. Save him.

Are the roses corny? Yes. Do I care? Not really. Maybe. Possibly.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #pinky suavo #suavo sunday

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hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong · 3 years

Text

The Flame-Soaked City, Part 5

With CasCu joining them, the master triad and co. head deeper into the heart of the Fuyuki singularity. What will they uncover as they approach the source of the altered history? (I mean if you play FGO you probably know this already, but hush. We’re hyping up the mystery here!)

TW: implied body horror, villain that would hurt a child, Lev Lainur

If it’s between <triangle brackets>, that’s a mental note between masters, and if it’s between {whatever these are} it’s the viewpoint character.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

{Jeanne}

With the arrival of the new caster, we not only gained a powerful ally, but knowledge about this singularity. What started as a Holy Grail War quickly became a fight for survival as the Saber converted the other servants to her side somehow.

Spartacus was very happy to find out there was a "tyrant" taking control of the situation. If it means he will actually help us from here on out we won't fight it. The best news however is that our caster friend knows healing magic! We're so close to being able to see again!

Kat: <Hey Jeanne, why are you saying all that stuff that just happened?>

Jeanne: <Because Cris never pays attention, and we don't need them getting lost next time they front.>

Cris: <Oh come on, I'm not that bad!>

Jeanne: <Really? What is Caster's name?>

Cris: <So you were saying about our eyes getting healed?>

Cu: Alright, we're all set little lady! Let's see what we can do about those eyes of yours.

Romani: Your vitals are good on our end, Hannah. We'll probably have to do this again when you get back, but the less time spent wandering in the dark the better.

Cu: I don't need you to tell me my magic works, mage.

Marie: Go ahead with the procedure, Caster.

The runes surrounding us lit up, infusing with mana as.... nothing happened.

Cris: Oh, you have got to be shitting me.

Cu: It's quite alright, you're not the first maiden to be taken aback by my-

Cris: No jackass, I still can't see anything!

Mash: But the spell worked, senpai! Your eyes look perfectly healthy!

Cu: You wouldn't happen to be cursed, would you?

Romani: It's more likely one of two things. Either we need to heal Hannah in the present, or the problem is psychosomatic. Either way, it's not a problem we can solve now.

Jeanne: That's unfortunate, but at least we're not any worse off for trying. It gave us plenty of time for a break, at least. We should get moving towards- As we stood up to move, our foot caught a rock in the worst way, and we took a spill.

--- {Cris}

Cris: Agh, motherfuck... er...

Holy shit, I can see again! God, blasted hellscape never looked so good. Wow Mash does not look comfortable in that armor. And that old guy in blue must be caster.

Cris: Wait, were you flirting with me? You're like 40, what the hell?

Mash: This is wonderful! Thank goodness!

Marie: We might just have a chance now.

Jeanne: <Maybe switching reset something?>

Kat: <That doesn't make any sense.>

Jeanne: <I know, I am just spitballing here.>

Cu: It's a step in the right direction, but her eyesight is clearly off. I'm still plenty young.

Cris: We can argue on the way. <Jeanne, you remember which way we need to go, right?>

Jeanne: <Leave it to me. We should travel much faster now.>

---- {Jeanne}

And with that switch, we are back in darkness.

Jeanne: That is less than ideal.

Marie: What happened now?

Jeanne: Hold on, I need to test something. <Kat, do you mind?>

--- {Kat}

We can see! Everybody's starting to look a little freaked out.

Kat: <Wow, those hassans really aren't wearing much, huh? They're pretty!>

Cris: <That's enough ogling, I'm turning this body around.>

--- {Cris}

Jesus, why the hell was Spartacus standing right behind us?

Cris: <Jeanne, why are you blushing? ...God, I can't take you two anywhere.> I pull us away from the big lug and back towards the sane part of the party.

Cris: Okay, tests done. The good news is I can see. Mostly. The bad news is that while we mostly have control over when it occurs, we might go blind at random, or if I get like, surprised or highly emotional.

Marie: And how, exactly, did you figure all that out by gawking at your servants?

Kat: Intuition.

Romani: You'll have to deal with it for now. After we get you back here we can work on a more permanent solution.

After we got on the road things went pretty smooth. The skeletons were pretty much a joke now that we could see them coming, and Caster even found time to teach Mash some new tricks. We barely managed to keep Spartacus from picking a fight with that berserker that's running around. Kat chatted with Saber and the assassins (I kinda zoned out for that tbh) and eventually we reached our destination. We hadn't even entered the cave yet, and already we could feel the raw energy pouring out of the thing.

Mash: Senpai, look out!

Mash threw herself in front of us as a sword, twisted, almost to the point of being unrecognizable, embedded itself in Mash's shield.

???: Sorry, but that's as close as you'll be getting to Excalibur.

Cris: What the hell?

Cu: I was wondering when you'd show up, Archer. I see you're still Saber's faithful knight, as always.

Archer: I don't know anything about that. All I'm sure of is there's an old pain showing up again.

Cu: You lot run on ahead. I've got some personal business to take care of.

Spartacus: Let him deal with the gatekeeper, we must strike at the heart of this tyranny!

Cris: Wait wha-

Spartacus grabbed us like a sack of potatos and ran into the cave. As we were getting dragged along, the opening salvos of their duel lit up the entrance behind us.

Jeanne: Assassin! Keep a couple personas near the entrance, and let us know if we'll have to deal with Archer.

Most of the remaining Hassans peeled off from the main group. Mash and the other servants were able to easily keep up with us, though Marie had to be carried on one of the larger hassan's shoulders.

Finally our bumpy ride ended in the opening of a large room. In its center stood a crater, with a massive beam of coalescing energy running from the floor to the ceiling.

Marie: The greater grail... what's that doing in Japan?

Spartacus: Face your end, oppressor! We have come to finish your reign of-

Before he could finish his sentence, a beam of energy burst forth from near the crater. It sucked the light out of whatever it touched, and when the dust settled, less than half of Spartacus' torso fell to the ground. I took a step closer to Mash.

Saber Alter: I have no patience for fools.

A servant clad in black platemail calmly strode forth, her sword still crackling with energy. With the veins on her armor pulsating, the entire thing almost seemed alive.

Saber Alter: You there, girls. You both have an interesting noble phantasm. I would like to test them.

With no other fanfare, she rocketed forwards, and her sword met Mash's shield. Mash and Saber Lily settled into their routine again, but Mash's training was already paying off. The older saber clearly wasn't used to fights against someone who could block her sword, and Mash took advantage of that to force openings for Lily to strike.

Alter was clearly going to lose, so she disengaged and fired off another beam from her noble phantasm. Mash responded in kind, and the black energy dissipated against the shield of light.

However, Alter expected this. and was simply using the beam as cover to get in closer again. Mash never saw the kick to her side coming, and she was easily sent flying, leaving Saber Lily alone with the experienced swordswoman.

It should have been a bloodbath. It was definitely one-sided, but for some reason Alter was holding back. Lily was mercilessly beaten down to the ground, but there was the slightest bit of hesitation that grew with each attack.

Kat: <Hey Jeanne? Do the scanny thing. Trust me.>

--- {Jeanne}

Jeanne: <Okay? I don't know what you- oh.>

We could no longer see the action, but we could still feel their spirit origins. Alter's was twisted by several things, much like the shadow servants we faced up to this point, but at her core, one thing was obvious. The saber lying on the ground and the saber standing over her were the same person.

Kat: <You guys seriously didn't notice they have the same face?>

Alter: It is useless, child. I am inevitable. I am what it means to be king.

Lily: Even if that's true... even if I'll be like you one day... I'm not you now, and I won't stop fighting you here!

Lily struggled to her feet, and focused all she had left into one final attack.

Lily: Sword of Selection, grant me your power!

Alter: Vortigern, Hammer of the Vile King reverse the rising sun.

Lily: Cleave the wicked! Caliburn!

Alter: Swallow the light, Excalibur Morgan!

The energy of their swords clashed, light and dark twisting around each other before it was all unleashed in an explosion that shook the cave.

--- {Cris}

Both sabers landed heavily. Alter lands in a heap near Spartacus' body, armor cracked from the impact. On the opposite side, Lily lays still, her spirit origin already starting to come apart. Alter pulls herself to her feet.

Alter: I will make this quick.

Before she can take a step, however, a large hand grabs her foot. Spartacus' body hasn't reformed enough to move yet, but he's alive, and that's enough.

Spartacus: HAHAHAHA! Come oppressor! Break your sword against my love!

Cris: Fuck yeah! I totally knew he was okay.

Jeanne: <Are any of us good at lying?>

To her credit, she damn near tried to do exactly what he said. Saber Alter launched blow after blow into the arm hold her in place. Each swing of her sword pulling energy from the greater grail and forcing it directly into Spartacus. We took this chance to run over to Lily. Mash had finally pulled herself from the wall she got launched into and was already there.

Mash: Senpai, your orders!

Cris: Just get your shield up and be ready!

Finally, Spartacus' body had enough. The energy stored within it writhed and began to break through, covering the cave in a bright purple light. Spartacus himself never stopped laughing the entire time.

Alter, and everything else that wasn't behind Mash's shield, was devastated by the explosion. When the dust settled, Spartacus was alone, collapsed on the ground, still smiling. ---- {Kat}

Kat: Lily? Lily it's over, you did it!

Lily barely stirred, her spirit origin was falling apart.

Lily: You were right, Master... Our journey was a lot shorter than I thought.

Kat: No! No, no, just hang in there. We can go get Cu, and he can... do something, I don't know!

Lily: I know this wasn't the best place to meet, but it was fun, right?

And then she turned to dust in our hands.

----- {Cris}

Kat was completely inconsolable, so I had to take over to keep things stable.

Marie: That was unorthodox, but well done. I guess even a third-rate mage can produce first rate work when pushed. Several points are still unclear, but we can call this mission a success.

Marie: If it is any consolation, now that Saber Lily has been recorded by Chaldeas, you should have an easier time resummoning her. She won't have any memory of this place, but that'll be true of any servant you summon in Chaldea.

???: Well, well, well. I did not expect you to get this far, Master of Chaldea. You've performed well beyond our expectations. And survived beyond the limits of my patience.

The voice came from everywhere at once, a cacophony that could barely be called speaking.

Cris: <Jeanne?>

Jeanne: <I'm on it!>

--- {Jeanne}

Suddenly, it appeared, standing over the remnants Alter left behind.

Jeanne: <what is that. what is that. what is that what is that>

Kat: <Jeanne?>

Jeanne: <what is that what the fuck is that What The Fuck Is That What. Is. That.>

---- {Kat}

It was Lev. We couldn't hear what he was saying over Jeanne's... whatever was happening to her. Mash put herself between us. Marie ran straight for him. Then hellfire opened beneath her feet. Olga's voice cut through.

Marie: No! Stop! I haven't even accomplished anything yet! From the moment I was born, I've never been accepted by anyone!

And she was gone. Jeanne finally calmed down.

Lev: You fool, Romani! You haven't figured it out yet? The future isn't "missing". It's been incinerated. It, and everything else outside of Chaldeas' protection. You lost the grace of our king, and this is the natural result.

The ground beneath us began to rumble.

Lev: Ah, the singularity is collapsing already. Farewell, Romani, Mash, Candidate #48. I have many places to be.

He was gone.

Mash: Doctor, perform an emergency rayshift, now!

Romani: This will be close, I might only be able to pull one of you out.

Mash: Senpai!

Jeanne: Mash!

Romani: You're not helping!

Mash and I joined hands. The world fell apart, and everything went black.

{Cris} We came to with a start, on the floor of the command center. Already some of the hassans were leading a cleanup effort to make the place more presentable. Mash is still alive, thank God, and Romani's also here.

Romani: Good, you're awake. I'm sorry to dump so much on you already, but time is of the essence. Are you alright with a briefing right now?

Cris: I mean it's not like I'm going to feel better any time soon, let's rip the bandaid off.

Romani: The main topic: Lev was right. Human history has been incinerated. Almost no space nor time on earth has been spared, culminating in the end of time at the end of 2018. The few points that still exist are these:

With that, Chaldeas lit up with seven bright points, each one with data pouring out of it.

Romani: These seven singularities are turning points in history that have been altered to change humanity's present. Chaldea is protected from this effect for now, but that protection won't last forever. Here's what we need to do: We need to fix these singularities if we're to have any hope of saving humanity. You are our only master, and the servants you've summoned are our best bet. I know you don't have much of a choice here, but I have to ask: are you willing to do this?

Cris: Of course.

Kat: <We will.>

Jeanne: <For Marie.>

Romani: Excellent. Well then! Our object is to protect and recover human history. Our opponent is history itself. To challenge our fate is an act of blasphemy against the past itself, but this is our only chance of survival. This is now the highest and only priority of humanity: a Grand Order.

Cris: Well, Spartacus? How's that sound? A rebellion against fate itself? Spartacus simply grinned, but for the first time it seemed almost genuine.

#fgo #Fate Grand Order #mastersona #Fuyuki #Saber Lily #Spartacus #Cu Chulainn Caster #Olga Marie animusphere #stuffomancer #rebel without a cause #thinks the blind seer trope is overrated

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tobacconist · 3 years

Text

ill put it here since its hard to have a proper discussion through replies

@solomonjones

God’s will is mysterious, and we as humans cannot know it. i dont pretend to, but i can aspire to atleast attempt to understand it. regardless of your religion; either you believe: God ordains all events throughout history as part of his greater unknowable plan, and that it is He who causes the rise and fall of nations, peoples, ideologies, etc or, you believe: when good things happen to you God is blessing you but when good things happen to your enemies it is satan who blesses them. if that is the case, you do not worship the One True God. you worship an imposter deity who presumes to call itself “θεός”, or “Бог” or “ الله ”; who is caught in deep rivalry with all the other pretenders to the throne of God Almighty.

this is what the story of the old testament is fundamentally about. even though the israelites were God’s chosen people, they were continually overtaken and oppressed by pagans. as it is written, the LORD hardened the pharaohs heart. in my opinion, it is impossible to understand the wider context of the bible (old and new testament) without understanding it in relation to pagan history and mythology (and in relation to the modern world) they didnt include, say, the odyssy in the holy canon of course because the pagan peoples being converted already knew these stories intimately. they did include the scriptures of the jews however (even though they were in many ways just as spiritually flawed as the pagans) because people were less familiar with them and the scriptures of the jews are very important to understanding the significance of the life of Jesus Christ (as he fulfilled prophecies of both the pagans and the jews)

when i say i have deep respect for the orthodox churches, please understand that i am being completely earnest. but i see it for what it is, an imperial religion of temporal power, like any other. this is going to sound quite harsh, and im writing this from an antagonistic perpective because, i presume, as someone who is quite devout; you do not need to be convinced of the deep need for religion in the world (now more than ever) that said... throughout history, kings and theologians have torn the Body of Christ, the church herself, into pieces. like DOGS they have torn the body of christ to pieces! like some horribly blasphemous tug of war. catholics pulling the head and protestants pulling the legs. baptists pulling out the intestines, the orthodox snarling and territorially guarding the heart, and the gnostics scooping up the spilled brains. and yet they are all convinced they know best, that they are the ones with grace, that they are the only true pure and correct church. this is what i mean about spiritual pride, and everyone knows it. especially when their actions and morals are in so many ways clearly at odds with what Christ actually taught. the only reason atheism exists is because of centuries of corrupt religious leaders; you can blame no one else for this godless world.

you claim the tsar held grace by his ceremonial anointment; but God hears the cry of the oppressed. thousands dead for your cause seems very reasonable compared to thousands dead for your enemies cause. but God gave people a rational mind, and although we are all misguided, he gave us wisdom enough to (eventually) see through deceit - whos author is the devil. it took centuries, but he taught us the ignorance of idolatry. the foolishness of worshipping kings. many more centuries it took until we abolished slavery. when the LORD let loose his hand and upturned the entire order of civilisation; throwing the chess pieces everywhere. fortuna’s wheel made such a global revolution; scarcely ever seen before. the nobility of the world, once so proud, learned through the bitterest chastisement the desserts of one who believes he can do no wrong. i cannot question the judgement of the LORD, but i do wish history had been different. less bloodshed, less mess; but God knows best.

on the topic of miracles, you can believe whatever you like, my friend. jesus said blessed are those who believe what they cannot see; but in my opinion you are as naive as one who believes hindu swamis can manifest gold rings out of thin air. all religions are guilty of this chicanery, but the spell only holds as long as people still want to believe. God gave us the power of reason, and His essence is truth. a great spiritual mystery; that (atleast for the past hundred years) Gods chosen people have been the atheists who knew him not! contemplate it! deny it if you want! there is great wisdom to be found there. not that they are blameless. the very opposite. i do not deny the horrors of communism which i assume you as an orthodox christian will know intimately well; but communist movements (and growing secularisation in general) cannot be thought surprising when one considers history. but has not the LORD advanced their science? has He not given them the power to perform many miraculous (and diabolic) deeds? babylon, rome, and america all play their part in His great plan. Blessed are the Naive, for they will not be punished as severely as those who should have known better. you can bring up some (rather weak) scientific validation of miraculous events to prove that God is on your side, but every single religion does this. and if you look at who is actually out there curing the blind, deaf and lame, who is it?

do you feel a deep spiritual calling in your heart which demands your soul to cleave unto the orthodox church? good. listen to it. that is God talking to you. that is God telling you what role you must play here in your lifetime. in some peoples hearts, that voice tells them to cleave to islam, or to buddhism, or to fucking wicca some people it tells them to ardently support nothing but science and secularism and to reject any fairytale from the past that they cannot prove. to some it tells them not to worry about any complicated theological or scientific shit that they would never understand anyway; and instead to simply follow what they know and try to be a good person by whatever ethical system they follow.

to some of us, it says we must always, always strive to be wise. that it is our sacred duty to solve every great paradox and to unveil every mystery that while the rest of the world argues in the dark, we must take our small spark of light and study deeply what we see within its radiance; and combine our little lights whenever we can. that we will be punished for our failings, as we will never be truly wise. no man can be omniscient. we will be punished for everything that we know, and for everything that we dont know, and that we must accept this. for being lukewarm and middling, for being passionate and taking a side. but we must do it anyway. that it is our duty. because ignorance is a condition which feels disgusting. that voice, it tells me that this is the task, the monumental task that all mankind undertook when we chose to eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, when we had been warned not to; to become like gods. and God himself, the LORD almighty said to us: okay. but you will die. you will die thousands of times. thousands upon thousands, upon thousands of times. and each time, you will become just a little bit wiser until maybe, just maybe, you will become like i. my “only begotten son” who will reign with me in paradise when you finally realise what a profound responsibility it is to be God.

#pardon this is rather long and rambling #but this is my thoughts as best as i can convey them #fuck i spent like 3 hours writing this; i hope you actually read it lol #earnestly; i await your response

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calligraphist-artemisia · 4 years

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Just Another Cinderella Story (Chapter 4 - Final)

-Summary: Once upon a time, there was a boy who was left in the care of his uncaring stepmother. Raised in a life of servitude and seeing his stepbrother lavished with praise and given everything he desired, the boy knew there was only one way he would ever be free. If their dreams of marrying into a life of luxury came true, then he would be left with his childhood home and he would finally be able to turn his life around.

Of course, Fate often has other plans in mind.

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

- - - - -

4. Dianthus caryophyllus

Keith sat next to Curtis in the wooden cart, his father's clothing still damp and sticking uncomfortably to his skin. The horses pulling the cart plodded happily down the well-traveled path, completely unbothered by the darkness of the forest around them.

“You can stop here,” Keith said.

Curtis urged the horses to slow with a gentle tug of the reigns. “Are you sure? I'm sure Shiro is asleep, but you can still come over and get cleaned up before you go home.”

Keith shook his head. “I'll be okay. It's a shorter walk from here.”

“If you're sure...”

Another tug of the reigns brought the horses to a complete stop, allowing Keith to hop out of the wagon and back onto solid ground. He didn't immediately begin walking and instead remained where he landed as he gathered his thoughts enough to ask a single question: “Did you know about Pidge?”

“Yes,” Curtis said. “She came to us and called herself Pidge the first time she visited, but once Shiro was able to save her brother, Prince Matt, she admitted who she really was. When she kept up her trips to see us, we thought it best for her safety if we continued to use her nickname. None of us ever meant to lie to you, Keith. It was all to keep her safe.”

That much Keith could understand. However, he and Pidge spent hours talking at the ball and some of that time had been about the princess herself! Why hadn't she said anything?

Keith needed time to calm down and think.

“Thanks for the ride, Curtis. I...” Keith stopped and shook his head. “Tell Shiro I'll be by when I get a chance?”

“Of course,” Curtis agreed easily.

Keith bid him goodnight and then set off for home, trying to sort out his tangled mess of feelings. He needed to approach it logically, however difficult the sting of betrayal made that. (Was it really betrayal? Maybe that was too strong of a word.) He had known Pidge was of noble birth. That much had been clear from the start, so why was the news of her being the princess so difficult for him to accept?

He had spent the night dancing with Princess Katie.

Princess Katie, who Lotor was determined to make his bride.

Keith wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the bizarre situation he found himself in. At least he knew there was no way Pidge would ever marry his stepbrother, even if he hadn't given her a warning. She was far too smart to fall for Lotor's lies.

For the time, his home was safe. Keith could breathe easily at that.

He focused on that little fact for the rest of his walk home. When he finally got back to the dark manor, he set to work on arranging things so Lotor and Honerva would never know he'd been away. He lit the lanterns at the front door and then hurried inside to turn on a few of the other lights in the entryway and up the staircase to the family suite.

With that done, Keith could focus on himself. He hurried to his own room, which was a converted pantry next to the kitchen, and stripped out of his wet clothing to put on his threadbare sleeping clothes. He hung up his father's suit to dry and then reached back to remove the mask, but his fingers encountered nothing.

There was a rush of hot fear as he realized it had come loose when he and Pidge fell in the fountain. He could only hope no one had seen him as he fled the gardens. Without the mask, he had no protection. His identity was bare for everyone to see.

Keith took a deep breath. He had to believe that everything was alright. There was no one else in the gardens who could have seen him, aside from Pidge's white-haired guard, and he doubted the woman cared enough to look into who he was.

Everything would be fine.

- - - - -

Pidge laid in her bed, holding a red mask up in front of her face as she examined every little detail about it. What she initially thought were feathers, was actually tiny red flower buds groups together to form feather-like bundles. Tiny glittery spheres poked out between some of them.

If she hadn't known about Shiro's magic, she would have spent hours trying to figure out how it was made and where it came from.

She sighed as she sat up. Ever since her escapade in the garden, she'd been under stricter watch than normal, with two guards posted outside her bedroom door and another pair beneath her window. No matter where she went there was always someone watching her. Pidge was quickly reaching her breaking point and had several ideas of how she could get away for at least a little while, though she would have to wait a few more days before attempting that again.

It wouldn't be too difficult as long as she chose the right moment.

A knock of the door drew Pidge out of her musings and she quickly hid the mask beneath her pillow before calling out: “come in!”

Allura stepped inside her room, dressed in her more casual uniform and with her hair pulled back into a thick ponytail. She bowed to her princess before saying anything. “Your parents requested to see you. I believe it's about your behavior at the ball.”

Pidge did her best not to groan as she slowly slid out of bed. She smoothed out her dress to try and rid it of any obvious wrinkling and then double checked her hair in the mirror. Once she deemed herself presentable enough she followed Allura out of the room, the posted guards easily falling into step behind them as they walked through the halls.

The night of the ball, Pidge had taken the time to explain to her parents everything that happened. How she'd already known Keith thanks to her visits with Shiro and how he caught her when she fell, which was how they ended up in the fountain. While they were sympathetic, they also agreed that, above all else, no one else could find out that she was alone with a man for several hours, nor that they ended up in the fountain together.

It would cause a scandal.

Luckily, the only other person who knew about what happened was Allura, whose loyalty to the royal family was unparalleled.

It was for that reason that Pidge wasn't anxious about her parents wanting to speak with her. They likely wanted to ask for her opinion about her possible suitors now that everything was calming down so they could move forward with whatever plans they'd been making behind closed doors.

The great double-doors were opened as she approached and she nodded to the guards on either side as she strode into the throne room. Allura remained near the doors as they closed, keeping a respectful distance from the royal family while Pidge walked over to her parents – King Sam and Queen Colleen - and warmly greeted each of them with a hug.

“We have news, Katie,” King Sam said cheerfully. “Matt will be returning home in three days to give Princess Romelle a tour of our kingdom.”

Pidge found herself beaming back at her father. “That's great! I'm glad his courtship is going well.”

“Speaking of courtship, we have received news from the eligible nobles regarding your own. It seems news of your... dalliance has reached ears outside of the castle,” said Queen Colleen.

Pidge was about to open her mouth to defend herself and Keith, but the weight of her mother's words quickly sank in. In a single swoop, her good mood evaporated, leaving her feeling light-headed from shock. “But how?”

“We are looking into it,” King Sam said. “The thing is, it leaves us in a delicate position. None of them seem willing to overlook the fact that you were alone with an unknown man for several hours. We can hope that if we give it a few days the rumors will begin to die down, but we cannot rely on that.”

“Keith and I didn't do anything wrong!” Pidge protested. “We just talked. That's it.”

Queen Colleen's gaze softened. “We know, darling, but you have to look at this from an outside perspective. It's why we have increased your guard. You must tread carefully if we are going to navigate this to our advantage.”

In other words, Pidge would be watched day and night and would have to make a number of public appearances to restore her good name. Every one of her actions would have to be carefully considered. There would be no sneaking off to visit Shiro. And there was absolutely no way she would be able to get away and speak with Keith, to explain why she kept her identity a secret and apologize to him for not telling him sooner.

That was the worst part.

She genuinely enjoyed Keith's company. He was the first friend she made who had nothing to do with her duties as princess, even when considering Shiro and Curtis, who she met when searching for a way to help save her brother. She wanted the chance to get to know him better. To spend more time with him. She wanted to help him find a way to save his father's home and, if at all possible, to get out from under the thumb of his stepfamily.

Maybe she could still do that.

She was likely to spend a lot of time alone in her room with guards posted at every conceivable exit, so she may as well make good use of her time.

Pidge tilted up her chin. “I'll do whatever I need to do,” she promised her parents.

Pleased with her answer, they turned the subject to how they would welcome Matt back and ensure that his bride-to-be was also made to feel at home. Even as she helped plan a simple dinner, Pidge's thoughts strayed to how she might be able to help Keith, and when she was able to get back to her room she immediately sat at her desk and began writing.

- - - - -

Despite his resolve that no one other than the guard had seen them in the garden that night, Keith couldn't help but feel a bit anxious over the next few days. Neither Lotor nor Honerva were acting any different and his chores went on the same as always, but there was something about the way Honerva looked at him sometimes that sent a shiver running down his spine. It wasn't her usual looks of complete disdain. No, it was something more calculating, as though he were a particularly difficult riddle she was trying to figure out.

Keith did his best to stay out of her way and complete his chores in a timely manner and without asking questions.

It seemed to work.

The looks stopped as Honerva turned her full focus back to her precious son and her schemes to get him into the good graces of the royal family. Keith continued to stay out of her way just in case she changed her mind, as she often did, and had several days of peace as he easily completed his tasks with minimal interference from Lotor, who only went out of his way once to dirty up a section of floor that he had just cleaned.

But Keith knew from experience that peace never lasted in their house. Sooner or later, the shoe would drop and he would take the blame for whatever great catastrophe they dreamed up.

It came as he was serving dinner one night.

Keith was normally good at tuning out their conversation, his years of practice at not reacting to their insults lending to that ability. But then he heard Lotor speak of the princess and those walls he built crumbled around him.

“I think it is time to move on with our plans for the princess, mother,” Lotor said. “We have left her wallowing for nearly a week now and none have dared to reach out with offers after those awful rumors. Now is the perfect time to strike.”

Honerva nodded. “Agreed. I will send a missive first thing in the morning. It won't be long before your courtship will be made official.” She smirked at her son. “Those other nobles will regret listening to the chatter of rumors. As though the princess would ever do something so uncouth as to be unchaperoned with a strange man.”

Keith's heartbeat sounded thunderous to his ears and he carefully turned away from his stepfamily to hide his face. He slowly moved towards the kitchens, an excuse of fetching more wine poised on the tip of his tongue in case either of them questioned his actions. He didn't need to use it and got away without either of them noticing.

He gripped the counter to keep himself upright and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to get a hold of himself as it fully sank in just how badly he'd messed things up.

Pidge's reputation was in tatters because of him.

Because of him, Lotor may end up being her only option for marriage.

There had to be something he could do. There had to be some way he could fix things, but it was something that was so out of his depth that he knew he would need help to find a solution, and for that there was only one person he knew to turn to.

Shiro was sure to have an idea.

Keith breathed in deeply and then slowly breathed out.

He would get through the rest of the night without alerting his stepfamily to anything being wrong or out of the ordinary and once they were both asleep in their beds he would sneak out and go to Shiro. With luck, he would be back by morning, even if it meant he didn't get any sleep.

His racing heart calmed back to a normal pace and Keith turned his attention to refilling the wine pitcher before carrying it back to the table.

The rest of his night went as usual, with him being ignored unless Lotor or Honerva wanted something, and he wrapped up the last of his cleaning just in time for Honerva to sweep through and judge his work with her usual criticism and scorn. He took her words without flinching and then bid her goodnight, making sure to go about preparing for sleep like normal just in case she suspected something.

It wasn't until midnight that Keith dared to get out of his “bed” - a pile of old blankets arranged in front of the kitchen hearth – and redress into something more appropriate for traversing the woods in the dark. He didn't dare leave from the front door, knowing it would cause too much noise as he shut it, and so headed for the side door from the kitchen, which would take him through their nearly barren garden and past the stables.

Keith glanced around and grabbed his basket at the last minute, hoping the old excuse of getting up early to gather herbs from the forest would work as well as usual.

And then he opened the door and stepped outside.

Something grabbed at him from the darkness, slamming him back against the wall hard enough that the back of his head collided with the wall and spots danced in front of his eyes. The basket slid from hand and bounced softly against the ground. Keith gasped and blindly swung out, trying to free himself, but was pinned so hard that there was no moving unless his assailant allowed it.

“You have been a thorn in my spine for too long, boy.”

The familiar hiss of his stepmother's voice drained every last ounce of fight from Keith as a cold chill settled over him. He did nothing as she yanked and shoved him back into the house, surprisingly strong for a woman of her upbringing.

“Did you think I would not find out? That I have no allies in court who would tell me of what they saw?” she demanded. “Did you really think for a moment that a lowly peasant could get away with speaking with the princess without repercussion? And to be alone with her!”

Another shove sent Keith sprawling to the floor, catching himself hard on his hands and knees.

“You nearly ruined everything for Lotor.”

Keith grit his teeth, anger bubbling up through the feeling of helplessness that was swiftly consuming him. He knew he wouldn't be getting away to see Shiro. There was a small part of him that feared he would never be permitted to see the light of day again. Who would even care about a dead servant?

“Princess Katie will never marry him,” he spat.

Dead silence met his words.

Honerva hauled him up with her inhuman strength and dragged him to the cellar door, which was propped open and waiting. Keith struggled in her grasp, doing his best to break away and try and reach the door, but none of his attempts worked.

“Be thankful I'm letting you live.”

With one final shove, Keith tumbled down the cellar steps and landed on cold, hard concrete. Before he could get to his feet, the door swung shut above him and a grinding sound told him that a board was being slid into place to prevent him from opening it.

He was well and truly trapped.

- - - - -

Things were not going as Pidge had planned.

Matt was home and brought with him his lovely bride-to-be, which was wonderful, but on the same day that he returned they received a request of courtship from one of Pidge's approved suitors, which had only the King and Queen pleased.

“He's terrible, mother,” Pidge protested the moment she heard the name. “He doesn't care about me or the kingdom, all he wants is the power that comes with it all.”

“You don't know that for sure, Katie. You will give this young man a chance and I will not hear another word about it,” said Queen Colleen.

Pidge didn't argue. She knew they hoped that news of one suitor offering courtship would pave the way for others to speak up again, but she hated the thought of being forced to spend time with Lotor when she already knew she couldn't trust him.

Knowing she wouldn't get anywhere with her parents, she complained to Matt during one of their strolls through the garden instead.

He listened without making a remark, waiting until she was finished detailing the night of the ball when all Lotor wanted to do was showcase his many talents, and then said: “He does sound pretty awful, but are you sure you're not projecting your dislike of the situation onto him?”

Pidge glared at him. “I am not.”

“Take it easy, Pidge, I believe you,” Matt said, lifting his hands in defense. “I know it's overwhelming. Suddenly, there's a lot of pressure on you now to find a suitable match and it wasn't there before. Now it's no longer about finding someone whose company you enjoy, but someone who can rule an entire country by your side and there's so much more to consider and think over.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Pidge muttered bitterly, the words slipping out before she could stop them. She looked guiltily at her brother. “I didn't mean – I really like Romelle, Matt. I'm glad you're marrying her. I just can't help but wish you were still inheriting the crown instead of going off to another kingdom to rule there.”

“That would make things easier. Then maybe you'd be able to marry this mysterious guy I've been hearing so much about instead of Baron I-am-so-much-more-important-than-everyone-else,” Matt joked.

“Keith's my friend,” Pidge corrected automatically.

Matt hummed, the teasing grin not fading from his face. “So, when do I get to meet him?”

“I... I don't know if you'll be able to,” Pidge said, slumping her shoulders at the reminder. “I met him when I went to visit Shiro. All I really know is his name and...”

She trailed off as she stopped walking, realizing she knew a good deal more than that after their talk in the garden. Something she'd been ignoring. While he'd been careful not to mention any names when he explained that his stepmother was determined to have her son marry Princess Katie, he did slip up later when asking her to give a warning.

“Pidge?” Matt asked, waving a hand in front of her face. “Katie?”

“Lotor is his brother.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Are we still talking about your friend?”

“Keith and Lotor are stepbrothers. I can't believe I didn't put it together until now! I feel so stupid!” She turned to face Matt, a determined glint in her eyes. “I need you to help me. We need to go see Shiro.”

“Aren't you grounded?”

“Then I'll go by myself.”

Matt reached out and grabbed her shoulders as she turned to walk away, making her face him once again. “You have to calm down and think this through rationally. Why do you need to go see Shiro?”

“Because he can help,” Pidge said, purposefully keeping her answer vague. She honestly wasn't sure how Shiro would be able to help, but going to talk to him first felt like the right thing to do.

“I feel like I'm still missing part of the puzzle here. Why do you need help? Is your friend in danger? And how do you know he's in danger if you haven't seen him since the night of the ball?” Matt asked.

All good questions.

Pidge took a deep breath and tried to organize her thoughts in a rational manner so she could better explain why she needed to leave the palace. She led Matt over to the fountain so they would have a place to sit and then she began to explain everything she knew, starting with the fact that Keith came to the palace just to see her that night without having any idea that she was the princess.

As before, Matt listened to what she had to say without complaint, taking in all of the details she was willing to give.

“Okay,” he said when she was finished. “I'll help you get to Shiro, but you have to be patient. Give me a few days to figure something out.” He paused for a moment when Pidge let out an agonized groan. “I'm sure you can handle dealing with Lotor until then.”

Pidge nodded, privately thinking that the sooner she could get to Shiro and ask for his advice, the better.

- - - - -

Pidge's jaw ached from plastering a fake smile on her face after one full afternoon in Lotor's company. She hoped Matt had a good plan for getting her out of the castle, because there was no way she was putting up with another round of the young Baron boasting about his studies and wealth. She only wished her parents saw through his ruse, but unfortunately he had them both charmed.

She was giving Matt one more night to figure things out and then she was going out on her own. Somehow.

Luckily for her, it didn't come down to that. Just as the sun began to dip over the horizon there was a knock on her bedroom door and Pidge answered to find Matt standing there with a solid black cloak in his arms.

“Wear this,” he instructed, handing it to her. “And move quickly. I bought you a little time before the guards come back.”

Pidge giddily pulled on the cloak and tugged up the weighted hood, letting it obscure her features as she and Matt tiptoed through the halls and outside into the humid summer air. Matt led the way to ensure she wouldn't be spotted, but they encountered no problems and were soon safely inside the stables.

“Romelle will cover for us, but we need to be back by the morning,” Matt said as he headed towards his horse, which was already saddled up and waiting for him.

Pidge found her horse there as well and took a moment to soothe the fidgety mare before stepping up and swinging herself into the saddle. She looked to Matt for further instruction, unsure whether or not they were waiting for a signal or if they needed to leave immediately.

“We should go. The others are waiting for us,” he told her, nudging his horse into a walk.

“Others?” Pidge asked.

“You didn't think we'd be going alone, did you?” Matt asked, flashing her a charming smile.

The others turned out to be their personal guards – Allura and Lance, who were astride their own horses and waiting near the gate. Allura had a frown on her face and was pointedly looking away from Lance, who was grinning broadly as though he'd won an argument for once.

Pidge rode over next to Allura, knowing her guard would feel more at ease if she was close. “I'm surprised you agreed to this.”

“I couldn't leave you with only that one as your guard,” Allura said, nodding her head toward the brunet.

Pidge bit her lip to keep from laughing. Allura may complain about Lance quite often, but the pair of them actually got along well. That was, when Lance wasn't flirting with her and every other young woman in the vicinity. “Well, I'm glad you're going with us.”

The four of them set off at an easy trot and kept quiet until they were safely within the borders of the forest, where they were able to speak freely.

“So, how did you enjoy Polluxea, Lance?” Pidge asked.

Lance eagerly launched into a description of the lush gardens and farmland of their northern neighbor and the friendliness of those who lived there. He made a few references to some of the lovely women he met there, but cut it short each time Allura rolled her eyes or made a sound of disinterest.

Matt and Pidge exchanged amused glances each time it happened.

“...prefer being home. I missed this place more than I thought I would,” Lance said with a short laugh.

“What are you going to do when you go back?” Pidge asked.

“I'm not going back,” Lance replied. “I went to help choose a Polluxean guard to watch after Matt and he'll be taking over for me. His name's Tavo and he seems pretty cool, so I'm permanently home now.”

“Mother and father want Lance to be the personal guard for whichever suitor you choose,” Matt added.

Pidge considered Lance for a moment. “Maybe I should introduce you to Lotor and let you scare him off.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?”

Pidge winked at him and spurred her horse on, racing ahead of the others with a joyous whoop!

It wasn't long before the other three were galloping alongside of her, following the winding path that led to Shiro's cabin. They arrived in good time and Pidge was relieved to spot light through one of the windows. At least they wouldn't be waking them.

“The barn is over to that side of the house. You can put the horses there and then join us inside,” Matt said as he swung down from his horse. He handed the reigns over to Lance and then turned to watch Pidge do the same with Allura.

Pidge led the way to the door, but before she could knock it opened to reveal Shiro waiting for them on the other side. He let them in and told them to get comfortable while he fetched the snacks Curtis made earlier that evening.

“It's rare to get such a late-night visit,” he remarked as he returned with a tray of small sandwiches.

“I couldn't get away any other time,” Pidge said. And then, unable to wait any longer, asked: “Shiro, have you heard from Keith since the ball?”

He blinked in surprise at the abrupt question, but recovered quickly enough. “I haven't. Why? Is there something wrong?”

Pidge shook her head. “No, not-”

“Yes,” Matt cut in.

Pidge whipped her head around to stare at her brother, her lips parting in surprise. What was he talking about? Nothing was really wrong, per-say, she just wanted to talk to Keith and clear some things up. She wanted to apologize. And then she wanted to ask if he and Lotor were truly stepbrothers and if he had any advice for how to prove what a snake he was.

So why was Matt saying there was something wrong?

“I grew up learning about all of the nobility of our kingdom. Five years ago, father had me study each of them in-depth so that I would have talking points when meeting any of them. I'm sure you'll be learning this all soon, Pidge,” he said, nodding to her. “The thing is, I remember reading about this one estate. A small one, with a garden large enough for the household and for selling any excess to the townsfolk. It worked well for them, but that wasn't the most interesting thing.”

He paused as Curtis entered the room from a side door with Lance and Allura, who were offered seats and joined them. Lance happily accepted a sandwich as the tray was held out to him.

“Baron Travis Hawkins married a woman of unknown status from Daibazaal. She was his first wife and they had one child together. A son.”

Daibazaal was a neighboring empire to the west of their kingdom. Twenty-five years ago, it had been in the middle of upheaval as a rebellion overthrew the then-emperor and instated a sovereign of their own choosing. Emperor Kolivan brought them into an age of tranquility as they reached out and made peace with their neighbors and began to let go of their path to conquering the entire continent.

“She passed away a few years after giving birth to their son and five years after that, Baron Hawkins remarried, only to pass away nearly a year later. His widow is Baroness Honerva Hawkins, who had a son from her previous marriage.”

“Lotor,” Pidge breathed out. “But then... then that means...”

“Keith was meant to inherit his father's position as Baron once he turned eighteen, but obviously that hasn't happened,” Matt said with a frown. “Instead, the title is set to be handed over to Lotor, but since it's being done against the wishes of the previous Baron Hawkins, it's not entirely legal. Keith has until his twentieth birthday to contest it before a court of his peers.”

“But why didn't you say anything before now? We could have done something!” Pidge cried out.

“Like what?” Matt asked. “Pidge, we don't have any proof that they're doing something wrong. For all anyone else knows, Keith turned down his title and wants it to go to Lotor instead. The only people who have talked to him are you and Shiro and that isn't enough. I waited because we need to come up with a plan and the people in this room are the only ones I trust to help. The first thing we need to determine is how much danger Keith is in. Shiro?”

Shiro took a moment to mull the question over. “I've been treating his injuries since the first time that we met, but even I would have a hard time saying how far they would be willing to take their abuse. The only reason he would be in immediate danger is if they realized he went to the gala, but that's impossible with the mask I created for him.”

Cold rushed through Pidge's veins. “The red one?”

Shiro nodded.

“It fell off,” Pidge admitted, barely able to speak above a whisper as she met Shiro's wide eyes. “I stumbled and we fell into the fountain and it was knocked loose. I still have it in my room.”

“Then we act immediately,” Allura suggested as she stood and began to pace. “We'll need a way to distract Baroness Hawkins and her son for a day while a few of us see what we can find out around the estate. If Keith is well, we'll be able to speak with him and clear things up. If not...”

“We'll need a warrant,” Lance said with a sigh.

Allura nodded. “We can't just break into someone's house, no matter what we think is going on.”

“Would it really be breaking in if you show up and a door is wide open?” Curtis asked. “It would give you a reason to check and make sure everything is alright, wouldn't it?”

“Even then it would be our word against theirs,” Allura responded.

The debate stretched on into the night as they went back and forth, analyzing details and discarding the majority of their ideas. Eventually, they put together something that could work in their favor and while Allura wasn't thrilled about the possibility of law-breaking that was involved, even she agreed that it was the best chance they had.

All Pidge had to do was spend one more day in the company of Lotor. She could handle that.

Probably.

- - - - -

Two days passed before things lined up for them to proceed with their plan.

Allura and Pidge would remain at the palace, where Pidge would be entertaining Lotor and his mother for the afternoon. King Sam and Queen Colleen were pleased with the decision, hoping it meant their daughter was finally warming up to the only suitor who offered courtship, and made themselves available for a small luncheon to chat with their prospective in-laws.

Matt charmed his way out of joining them by insisting that he'd promised Princess Romelle a romantic tour of the kingdom, which wasn't a lie but was definitely part of their multi-step plan. Naturally, Lance and a pair of Polluxean guards – Tavo and Merla – joined them for their ride into the territory surrounding the palace.

Curtis and Shiro had the most freedom of any of them. They would wait until they were sure Honerva and Lotor were out of the manor and then they would sneak around and see what they could find out. Allura and Lance had insisted they not know all of the details to what “sneaking around” entailed, so they could rightfully claim ignorance if Shiro and Curtis found something by less-than-legal means.

They began on the grounds itself, searching for any sign of Keith, and when they found nothing Shiro led the way to the front door. With a wave of his hand, the bolt clicked into an unlocked position and the heavy door swung open to admit them.

“Impressive,” Curtis complimented.

Shiro grinned and then stepped inside, casting a second spell which created an orb of light, which hovered in front of them for a moment before beginning to drift down the hall towards the right. “Tracking spell,” he clarified for Curtis.

“Remind me why you don't use your magic like this more often?” Curtis asked.

“It makes people nervous. And it's more exhausting than it seems,” Shiro said with a light shrug. “Come on. We need to find Keith.”

They crept along, staying as quiet as they could just in case they weren't as alone as they thought. Just as Curtis was about to turn and ask Shiro another question, they both heard a gasp from up ahead, as a young woman wearing a plain apron came face-to-face with the seeking orb and then looked past it to see both of them.

Shiro took two hurried steps forwards and waved his hand in front of her face.

The woman wavered from side-to-side, her eyes slowly fluttering shut before her legs gave out and Curtis had to catch her and ease her down to the floor.

Shiro blinked back a wave of dizziness. He took a moment to let it settle and then wordlessly began to follow the seeking orb once again with Curtis close by his side. It led them to a door barricaded by a flat board that slid into holders on either side of the frame and then sank through.

“Let me,” Curtis said, stopping Shiro from lifting the board. He removed it on his own and set it aside before opening the door to allow Shiro inside first.

Leaning against the far wall, shivering from the chill of the cellar, was Keith.

Shiro nearly tripped down the steps in his haste to reach his friend, his hands fumbling with the bag at his side as he went for one of the potions he packed as a “just in case”. He kneeled in front of Keith, only slightly put at ease by the sight of his chest rising and falling and the occasional tremors from the chill.

“Keith, can you hear me?” he asked.

Keith groaned in response, straining to do something as simple as opening his eyes. He closed them again and muttered something about it being too bright.

Shiro snapped his fingers and the seeking orb fizzled out, leaving only the light streaming in through the door. “You're okay now. We're going to get you out. Keith, do you know how long you've been in here?”

“Days?” Keith guessed, his voice hoarse from disuse and lack of water. “Sorry, Shiro.”

“This is not your fault,” Shiro said firmly. He searched through his bag and came up with a potion in a green clay container, which he uncorked and held to Keith's lips. “Drink this. It will help soothe your throat.”

Keith drank without questioning what it was and made a face at the taste of it once he was through. “S'weird,” he muttered.

“I know, but it'll help. And so will this one,” Shiro said as he selected another container – one colored a sunny yellow. He helped Keith drink it and decided that it was enough to be able to move him. Any further healing could wait until they were someplace safe.

The empty containers went back into his bag and then Shiro gestured for Curtis to come over and help him lift Keith. They shuffled awkwardly as they adapted to how they could and could not move as a unit and then slowly made their way up the steps, back through the halls, and out the front door.

It took Keith a few minutes to realize they were going in the opposite direction from the path to Shiro's house. “Where are we going?”

“We're meeting up with someone who can help,” Curtis said.

Keith seemed to go even paler. “Someone else knows?”

“Without them, we never would have had this opportunity to come find you. It's thanks to them that any of this is happening,” Shiro said. “We can trust them, Keith. No one will think less of you for needing help.”

He perked up as the sound of hooves and the rattling of a carriage met their ears just as a pair of guards astride white horses crested the rise of the hill in front of them, followed by a gleaming open carriage. A third guard rode behind them on a dark gray mare.

“Just in time,” Curtis murmured. He glanced at Shiro, who nodded, and then transferred all of Keith's weight to his partner so he could run ahead and get their attention.

The guards came to an abrupt stop and the one with dark skin and hair demanded to know who he was.

“It's alright, Tavo, he's a friend.”

Shiro was relieved to hear Matt's voice. It meant everything was going according to plan.

Keith made a confused sound when he saw Matt jump down from the carriage to speak with Curtis. “Pidge?”

“Her brother,” Shiro correctly gently. “That is Prince Matthew. He's the reason we came to get you. We'll be traveling with him back to the palace and make use of their healers.”

Keith sucked in a deep breath in surprise. “Shiro, I can't! This isn't necessary!”

“You need more help and rest than I can give on my own,” Shiro told him. He adjusted his grip so he could begin weaving a spell with his free hand. “Rest easy, Keith. Everything will be alright from here out.”

“Using magic's unfair,” Keith slurred as his head drooped and he dropped into an easy sleep.

Guilt and his moral sense warred with his logical mind about whether or not it was necessary to use magic on his friend, and eventually logic won the battle as he helped lift Keith into the carriage and get him comfortable on the bench across from Princess Romelle, who watched everything with curiosity but not confusion.

“I apologize for cutting your excursion short, Princess Romelle,” Shiro said.

Princess Romelle smiled softly in return. “It is worth it if it means helping someone in need. There will be other days when I will be able to view this glorious kingdom.”

A diplomatic answer. One which sounded a little too well rehearsed for her to have been completely left in the dark about their plans.

Shiro glanced at Matt, who was too busy gazing fondly at his bride-to-be to take part in any conversation, so instead he lowered his eyes to Keith and took account of his newest injuries and the best ways to treat them.

Curtis took a seat next to the driver and they began to move.

- - - - -

Keith woke to the white walls and ceiling of an unfamiliar room. Heavy, warm green blankets covered him up to his neck and smelled pleasantly of some sort of sweet flower. Delicate curtains fluttered in the breeze coming in from an open window and he could hear birdsong, over top of which was the brush of paper against paper.

It took a great deal of effort just to turn his head, but when he did he was rewarded with the sight of Pidge seated at his bedside, her hair pulled up in a high bun, her amber eyes focused on the pages of the book in her hands. On the small table next to her was a bouquet of red carnations and silver-tipped ferns artfully arranged in a clay vase.

For a moment, all he could do was watch her as his awareness and ability to move slowly returned to him. When he did open his mouth, there was only one thing he could say and although it came out as barely more than a whisper, Pidge jumped as though startled by a loud sound.

“Keith!” she exclaimed, all but throwing her book aside as she rose from her chair. “How do you feel? Can I get you anything?”

“Water,” he croaked out, hoping that a drink would help clear his throat enough that he could speak more normally.

Pidge nodded and walked across the room to fetch a pitcher and a glass. “Shiro made lemon-honey water for you to drink until he can come make a hot tea. Apparently, this one can be kept warm with one of his charms but tea is best drank soon after brewing.”

Keith fought the urge to groan at having to drink another one of Shiro's concoctions and instead gave a small nod that made his head spin and had him horribly disoriented for a long minute. He blinked away the dark spots to find Pidge back by his bedside, holding out the cup with a concerned expression.

To his embarrassment, she had to hold the cup so he could drink.

The lemon-honey water wasn't nearly as bad as he expected, somehow achieving a nice balance between the sweetness of the honey and the sour of the lemon without being too thick. It quickly went to work on soothing his throat and after a few swallows, he felt like he could talk again.

“Where am I?”

“The palace,” Pidge responded promptly. She held the cup for a moment longer and then set it on the side table next to the vase and retook her seat. “You're in one of our guestrooms and Shiro and Curtis are borrowing one just across the hall. You've been here for two days, healing in some kind of magical coma that Shiro put you in.”

Keith felt even less comfortable once he fully understood where he was. He was just a servant. Hardly someone who belonged in such a nice room. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing. Keith, I… I’m the one who needs to apologize. I should have told you who I really was instead of letting you find out on your own. That wasn’t right. I just got so nervous that you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore or that you’d treat me differently once you knew who I was and I didn’t want to lose that,” Pidge explained, bowing her head slightly. “It’s no excuse and I know that. I’m really sorry, Keith.”

Keith wished he could reach out and comfort her, but even if he weren’t recovering from days of being locked in darkness with no food and water, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to bring himself to touch the princess. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Then neither do you,” Pidge said.

Keith tried to think of a reply but came up empty-handed. The moment passed as the door opened and Shiro stepped inside with a tray. He brightened up when he saw Keith awake.

“Oh good! I brought you both some food,” he said as he bustled inside. “It’ll be soup for you until you regain some of your strength, Keith. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Sore,” Keith admitted, knowing there was no lying to the man.

Shiro nodded. “That’s all normal. You’ll probably spend the next few days sleeping while the magic does its work.” He handed off one bowl to Pidge and then walked around to the chair on the other side of the bed.

Keith warily eyed the bowl in his hands. “You’re not going to put me to sleep again, are you?”

“No, not like before. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t think I’d be able to get you here without stressing you out so badly that you’d become even more ill,” Shiro told him. He set everything down so he could prop Keith up with an extra pillow they collected just for the occasion.

While Shiro helped Keith sit up and eat, Pidge carefully kept her gaze averted and ate her own food in slow, small bites. By the time she finished, Keith was nearly done with his own, his stomach almost unpleasantly full despite the smaller amount in his bowl.

“M’done,” he muttered when Shiro tried to get him to keep eating. He closed his eyes for a moment. “What now? I mean, what about my home? I can’t go back again.”

“No. At least, not right now,” Shiro agreed, giving Pidge a pointed look over the bed.

Keith followed his gaze. “Not right now…?”

“I think I’ll leave you two to talk,” Shiro said as he stood. He walked back around to collect Pidge’s bowl and left after promising he’d be back in an hour to deliver a special tea for Keith to drink.

“What did he mean by ‘not right now’?” Keith tried again.

Pidge took a deep breath as though steeling her nerves for something that would be difficult to say. “My brother, Matt, has been doing some research ever since I told him about you. Nothing bad! He was just curious, especially when we realized Lotor is your stepbrother.”

A cold chill swept through Keith. “How did…?”

“It was just a few of the things you said when we talked that night. And then Matt’s research seemed to confirm all of that… You’re the son of Baron Travis Hawkins and the rightful heir to his estate and title,” Pidge said.

And then all Keith felt was confusion. “That’s not right. The title goes to the oldest and that would be Lotor.”

“The title passes to the firstborn son,” Pidge corrected. “That’s you, Keith. You’re the one whose name is listed in the court records. It’s been unchanged for twelve years. The last update to the record was to note that he remarried and that Honerva would act as Baroness until you came of age to take up the title. You are the Baron of the Hawkins estate, not Lotor.”

Keith turned his head to look straight up at the ceiling, feeling a little dizzy from the news.

The estate was his.

They had taken his childhood home from him unlawfully and made him feel as though he was worthless for so long when he was meant to be learning to take over for his dad.

Baron Keith Hawkins.

That was going to take a lot of getting used to.

“We have a plan, but it will all have to wait until you’re well enough to walk and get around on your own again,” Pidge said.

Keith attempted a nod. “Yeah.”

He was aware of Pidge talking a little more, telling him about the history of the estate and how his ancestor’s earned their title because of the messenger hawks they raised and trained for the royal family. He drifted off to sleep to the sound of her soft voice.

- - - - -

As Shiro mentioned, Keith spent several days drifting in and out of sleep. Sometimes Pidge was there. Sometimes it was Shiro or Curtis. Occasionally he woke to find Prince Matt sitting there, silently keeping him company. The first time had been so awkward that Keith pretended to still be asleep until Shiro came in to make him drink more of his strange tea concoctions - licorice remained his least favorite and he’d be happy if Shiro never made it for him again.

Each day his strength returned a little more until Shiro cleared him for being allowed to get up and move around the room. His appetite grew with his strength and soon he was able to handle a full meal that wasn’t soup.

During the times he was awake he got caught up with their plans to expose Honerva and Lotor and make it so they could never hurt anyone else again, adding his own details so they could prepare for their attempts to weasel their way out of trouble. By the time Keith was able to stay awake for more than an hour, they were just about ready to put their plans into motion.

They would call Lotor and Honerva to court, hoping they would believe it was the will of the King and Queen to approve a formal courtship between Lotor and the princess. There, they would reveal the truth.

It all hinged on Keith’s ability to remain standing long enough to see them brought to justice.

“You’ll need appropriate clothing, as well,” Matt mentioned, looking him up and down. “I could get my tailor to make you something, but I’m not sure he’ll be able to finish in time. Anything I already have won’t be appropriate for you either, otherwise I’d offer.”

“I can take care of that,” Shiro promised.

“Another glamour?” Keith guessed.

Shiro nodded. “It’ll be simple enough to make you something that reflects your heritage. Are there any portraits of your father that I could see to get an idea of what I should create?”

It was Matt who answered. “There was a decent one in the court record. I’ll show you later.”

Conversations with Pidge were vastly different, full of colorful stories and long rambling rants about all of the things they hated about Lotor. Keith found himself laughing every time Pidge mimicked Lotor’s voice and tried to repay her by telling her the more amusing stories of growing up with him as a stepbrother, like all of the tantrums he’d thrown over the years.

By the time the day came to confront his stepfamily, Keith didn’t feel nearly as nervous as he expected to.

After so many years of their abuse and of being told he wasn’t good enough and fearing that his father’s house would forever be a prison to him instead of a home, Keith was finally able to stand up tall and proud and reclaim it all for himself.

Shiro was his first and only visitor that morning, as Pidge and Matt prepared on their own for what was coming. They ate together and then Shiro had him stand still while he used his magic to weave a brand new glamour for the occasion.

Keith had expected colors similar to the suit Shiro created for the ball, but instead the color palette and style were vastly different.

The top was a high-neck, military-style jacket in deep plum and with a black inner lining. The epaulets on each shoulder were lavender with silver fringe, which matched the belt around his waist. His pants and shoes were solid blacks.

Keith eyed his reflection with mild unease, feeling entirely out of his element as Shiro stepped up and began to style his hair by hand. “Do you really think I can do this?”

“I have always believed in you, Keith. You are more than ready,” Shiro said. He tied off Keith’s hair with a strip of fabric that matched the purple of his clothing, leaving it in a simple low ponytail. “Now you just need to believe it too.”

Keith nodded but said nothing else as he followed Shiro out of the room and through the wide halls of the palace to the throne room, where a crowd of available nobles had gathered in the hope that they would be among the first to hear news about the newest royal courtship.

He paused outside the door to steel his nerves for what was waiting for him on the other side.. “I am ready.”

Shiro smiled and opened the door for him.

The low murmur of voices met Keith's ears as he stepped into the room. Several people glanced his way and then turned again to stare, but Keith didn't pay them any attention and put all of his focus on the royal family at the other end of the room. His eyes landed on the King and Queen first, who sat upon their throne with benevolent smiles and occasionally bent their heads together to whisper something. To their right stood Prince Matt and a beautiful woman with blond hair and a soft pink gown, who Keith rightfully assumed to be Princess Romelle of Polluxea.

When he looked at Pidge, he nearly stopped walking. It was only because of how many times he recited his role in their plans that he continued on, but from that moment on his eyes never left her.

Emerald green suited her, he couldn't help but think as he watched her stand there in a gown that shimmered as though it was covered in gems. Around her neck was a simple, round green stone on a golden chain.

Enter the room. Back straight, head held high. Act as though there is no other place you belong. (Easy for Prince Matt to say.)

Walk to the throne and stop at the foot of the stairs, no less than three feet from the guards on either side. Bow respectfully to the King and Queen. Then to Prince Matt and finally to Pidge.

Keith followed Prince Matt's instructions to the letter, but as he turned to bow to Pidge, someone forced their way through the crowd and reached out as if to yank him away, but their hand was never allowed to make contact.

In the blink of an eye, Lance was there in front of him as guards closed in around the royal family to shield them from the potential danger.

“Madam, I ask that you compose yourself,” Lance snapped.

Keith couldn't help but flinch away at the utterly thunderous look on Honerva's face as Lance continued to hold onto her wrist, unwilling to let go until he was sure she wouldn't strike out in rage. Lotor appeared over her shoulder in the crowd, but he stayed back and tried to keep his face impassive, though Keith could see his fury roiling beneath the surface.

It took a moment, but Honerva calmed herself enough that Lance let go. “That boy is nothing more than a servant. I merely wished to save their Majesties from being forced to listen to any of the lies that spill forth from his mouth.”

“I fear you have been misinformed, Madam,” Prince Matt spoke up. “If you would wait but a moment, he was about to introduce himself to the court.”

Honerva scoffed. “There is no need to play along with his foolish games. Allow me to take him home and deliver appropriate punishment for his misdeeds.”

Again, whispers broke out in the room as people latched onto her words and took them as the truth. Why wouldn't they? After all, Baroness Honerva was a lady of noble birth and was well-known in their circles, as was her son, Lotor. If she said the well-dressed man in front of them was nothing more than a servant boy playing dress-up, then why wouldn't they believe her?

King Sam stood from his throne and held up a hand, silently calling for everyone to be quiet. “I would like to hear what this young man has to say.”

Chin up.

Back straight.

Keith folded his right arm over his midsection and bowed one last time. “Your Majesties, my name is Keith Hawkins, son of the late Baron Travis Hawkins and his first wife, Krolia Hawkins. I am here to ask that you see justice carried out in regards to the Hawkins estate, of which I am the rightful heir.”

He might as well have said he was the grandson of the emperor of a foreign land with the amount of pandemonium that broke out in the throne room. Honerva's angry screech could barely be made out as the other nobles broke out into loud questions and demands, each wanting to know if it was true.

Keith stood in the middle of it all, letting the voices wash over him as he kept his focus on Pidge, who smiled encouragingly. That alone kept him grounded.

Well, that and the fact that Lance remained by his side as a physical blockade between him and Honerva until the other guards arrived to take her into custody until they could get to the truth of what had been revealed. Lotor attempted to slip away into the crowds and escape unnoticed, but he was caught as well and taken away, though he didn't struggle nearly as much as his mother, perhaps hoping that by going along willingly he could show his innocence.

Keith was led away by Lance, who was acting on Prince Matt's orders and took him back to the nice guest room where he'd spent the past week recovering.

“Nice job, Keith,” Lance complimented. “All it'll take is for the King and Queen to check the records themselves and this will all get sorted out. I bet you'll be glad when this is all over.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed.

At long last, his nightmare was coming to an end.

- - - - -

The Hawkins estate was a beautiful property when it was being properly cared for. Pidge almost couldn't believe it was the same place when she finally found the chance to visit again nearly a year after the debacle with Honerva and Lotor. Under a new Baron, the estate flourished in more ways than one.

With Allura and Lance following like a pair of persistent shadows, Pidge was led around to the back gardens, where an ornate table and chairs waited beneath the shade of a massive oak. Keith stood there, dressed down in soft reds and black, and smiled when he saw her.

“Princess,” he greeted with a smile and a friendly bow.

“Baron Hawkins,” she responded with an easy nod.

They both grinned and dropped all formalities as they sat and began to catch up on everything that had changed since they last spoke. It had been a while, as Keith busied himself with the spring planting and some of the heavy manual labor that needed to be done, even though he had staff who were more than capable of doing it all themselves. Keith said that he enjoyed the work when he wasn't forced to do it and having company made it even better.

“Mostly, I've been going through my parents' old things. There was a lot more than I expected locked away in some of the old rooms. Like my mother's journals. I felt odd about reading them at first, but it's the only chance I have to get to know what kind of person she was,” Keith admitted.

Pidge reached across the table and took his hand. “I don't think she'd mind. So, what have you learned?”

“She was from Daibazaal. That's where my dad learned a lot of new stories and legends that he told me when I was young. But she left near the end of the revolution, though she never said why in any of the journals. At least, she didn't say in any of the ones I read.”

Pidge couldn't help but smile as she listened to the way he spoke of his parents. His joy at getting to learn more about them, even if it was from an old journal, warmed her heart.

“Did you know in Daibazaal they don't begin courtship by gifting a piece of jewelry?”

Pidge blinked in surprise, unsure of how the conversation drifted to courtship. She must have gotten more lost in her thoughts than she meant to. “I didn't know. What do they do instead?”

“In Daibazaal, a bouquet of carnations is the traditional first gift. The rarer the color, the better the proof of their love.” Keith reached into his jacket and withdrew a thin box, which he placed on the table in front of her. “My dad wanted to combine their traditions, so he had this made for her.”

She couldn't stop a startled gasp from breaking past her lips as he cracked open the box to reveal an ornate bracelet with links designed to resemble tiny flowers. Most of it was silver, including the delicate leaves, but the flowers themselves were some sort of purple crystal.

“Purple carnations to represent Daibazaal,” Keith said softly. “I was hoping you would accept it as my first gift to you.”

Pidge's eyes flickered up to Keith's face and remained there as she struggled to find her words. Finally, she snapped out of it. “Yes. Yes, of course, I will!”

Keith breathed out in relief, his smile turning brighter than she'd ever seen. With a gentleness that endeared her even more to him, he helped her put on the bracelet and they both took a moment to admire the way it looked against her pale skin.

And while it didn't happen in the way he ever expected it to, Keith realized at that moment that all of his hopes and dreams for his own future were finally beginning to come true.

#voltron #fanfiction #kidge #kidgemas #cinderella au

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troger · 4 years

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the atlantic: This is your last free article.

me: *shares the fuck out of it*

Trump Has Justified Breaking One of America’s Most Sacred Norms

The tradition of granting post-term immunity from prosecution to those who leave the White House now comes at too great a cost.

12:33 PM ET

Paul Rosenzweig

Principal at Red Branch Consulting

In the 240 years since America’s founding, no former president has been indicted for criminal conduct. This isn’t because they were angels—far from it. And it isn’t because post-term indictment is not legally allowed. Instead, it is because Americans don’t like the idea of criminalizing politics. Both parties and the public see the prospect of post-term immunity as a guarantee that the country’s politics will remain civil and that power will transition peacefully from one party to the other. That is what drove President Gerald Ford to pardon Richard Nixon. And it’s one reason why the Office of the Independent Counsel decided not to indict former President Bill Clinton.

The presidency of Donald J. Trump has upended those calculations, and the resistance to post-term investigation may now come at too great a cost. When he leaves office, whether in January or four years later, the next administration or one of the states can and should investigate citizen Donald Trump—a former president whose legal status will be no different from that of any other American. The risk of politicization of such an investigation is far outweighed by the danger posed by failing to uphold our nation’s values. To protect future presidents from retributive investigations once they leave office, however, any investigation should be limited to Trump’s conduct before and after his presidency, not his behavior while he was president. If the findings of such an investigation justify it, prosecutors should indict the former president for violations of criminal law.

I come to this view reluctantly. The risks in the approach are both real and substantial. But after having served as a prosecutor in the Department of Justice, as a senior counsel in the Whitewater investigation of Clinton, and as a Bush appointee at the Department of Homeland Security, I’ve come to recognize that challenging, balanced judgments of the sort necessary today are sometimes forced on us by circumstances beyond our control. Hard choices do, sometimes, make bad law, but they cannot always be avoided. To decline to investigate Trump’s alleged criminality after he has left office is itself a choice—and it’s the wrong one.

The biggest danger of countenancing the investigation of ex-presidents is also the most obvious: an ever-escalating cycle of retribution. One can easily imagine a losing president resisting the call to leave the White House at least in part because he feared subsequent prosecution, or a winning president prosecuting her opponents over normal political differences. Indicting one former president risks making a habit of doing so, and reducing America to little more than a revolving-door banana republic. That’s why, for example, former Attorney General Eric Holder has reacted with grave concern to calls for Trump’s post-presidency prosecution. As Holder might put it—with substantial justification—if you thought “Lock her up” was the wrong thing to say about Hillary Clinton, you shouldn’t support a “Lock him up” perspective on Trump.

But a reluctance to prosecute does not mean there should be a prohibition against doing so. The idea of absolute presidential impunity from prosecution for all time and for all actions is just a re-instantiation of the kingly prerogative—“The king can do no wrong”—that was one of several reasons America had a revolution. Should a president who committed murder before his election that was only discovered once he was in office be immune from prosecution after impeachment and removal? Surely not.

And yet the promise not to prosecute after a term ends is part of the price we pay for the routine peaceful transition of power. One can readily imagine, for example, the violent reaction of some presidential supporters to even the hint of a possible criminal investigation.

This is true even in normal times, but it is all the more true during periods of deep political hostility. The prosecution of Trump after he leaves office, as the conservative journalist Jonathan V. Last recently wrote in his newsletter, The Triad, is of secondary importance to the more important value of preserving the nation: “Buttressing the rule of law today won’t matter if we descend into widespread, open civic unrest that undermines the legitimacy of the political system itself. That would be a generational, ongoing crisis. And once the toothpaste is all the way out of that tube, then there is no going back until the people who have decided to be against the system die off.” That’s a pretty grim prospect, and if that were the choice, it might be wise to buy civil peace with the coin of prosecutorial deferral.

But is that the standard we aspire to? Do we think so little of our civil society that we set rules of behavior based on fear of mob rule? America is often said to be a nation of ideals, not of cultural groups. It exists as a collection of aspirational principles—equality of opportunity, freedom of expression, and, ultimately, the rule of law. If we discard those ideas to save the nation, have we actually saved the nation? If we truly believe in those principles, then, without prejudging the result, it would be a dereliction of duty for the next president—or for any state with cause to investigate—to refrain from examining the potentially illegal actions of former President Trump just because of his previous title. As Teddy Roosevelt famously said, “No man [should be] above the law and no man [should be] below it; nor do we ask any man’s permission when we ask him to obey it.” To categorically say otherwise is to undermine the foundation of American democracy.

A post-term investigation would be on solid legal footing. Post-term immunity is fundamentally inconsistent with the ground that is offered by the Department of Justice for immunity from prosecution while a president is serving. The DOJ has long been of the view that sitting presidents cannot be criminally charged. It justifies that position in two ways.

First, it looks to practical questions of implementation. The DOJ has argued, broadly, that the possibility of an indictment and criminal prosecution of a sitting president would “undermine the capacity of the executive branch to perform its constitutionally assigned functions.” It is difficult, they say, to imagine a president running a government while sitting in jail. While other, lesser officials have successfully continued in office from prison (the example of James Michael Curley, who served as the mayor of Boston while in prison for mail fraud, springs to mind), it is not unreasonable to think that doing so would be impossible for the president of the United States.

In addition to the practical difficulties created by a requirement for the president’s physical presence at a trial or in jail, the DOJ has relied on the intangible but significant effects that an indictment and trial could have on presidential power. As Nixon’s DOJ put it in a memorandum prepared in 1973, “The President is the symbolic head of the Nation. To wound him by a criminal proceeding is to hamstring the operation of the whole governmental apparatus, both in foreign and domestic affairs.”

Notably, for our purposes, both the analysis and the import of the DOJ’s views are limited to a time when the president is still in office. After the president’s term is over, there is no longer the practical problem of running a government. Nor are there the same sorts of intangible effects on presidential symbolism; he is, after all, no longer the “head of the Nation.”

All of this is precisely why the DOJ has long justified its term-based immunity argument by contending that a president would be subject to prosecution “after he left office” (albeit while noting the possibility that a lapse in the statute of limitations might create a gap in criminality). In other words, in the department’s view, it is the office itself that commands the immunity, not the person. It would be strange and ironic if the argument for immunity during a term of office were somehow converted into a prohibition on post-term indictment as well.

Quinta Jurecic and Benjamin Wittes: How to corrupt the Justice Department

It is likely that even the DOJ would argue against this sort of impunity. To do so would be, in effect, to recant much of what they said in 1973 and later repeated in 2000, with respect to Bill Clinton. As a formal matter, no legal barrier to post-term indictment exists.

Thus the ultimate question is not whether a former president can be investigated but whether one should be. What is best for our country? How can the country uphold the rule of law and the idea that no one is above the law, without driving itself into civil discord and risking fatal polarization?

There are no easy answers here. The best one can offer is a discretionary judgment that has some convincing rationale and offers a plausible way forward. In my view, the outlines of this are clear: It would be too great an affront to law for a president to have perpetual immunity. At the same time, the risks of polarization from criminalizing decisions that were made by the president during the course of a presidency is substantial. Alternatives, such as impeachment and loss of an election, exist that can address those wrongs.

Hence, let us try to thread the needle: Forgo the prospect of prosecution for actions undertaken while in office, but recognize that crimes a president commits while a regular citizen should not be excused just because he or she has served as the president of the United States.

This is not, by any means, a perfect solution. In our parade of horribles, there might be edge cases of conduct that occurred while the president was in office that would be so egregious we would want them to be criminally addressed. If, say, a hypothetical future president committed murder while in office, we would hope that a post-term prosecution for that offense would be permissible.

This example suggests that a ban on temporally based prosecution may be too broad and would, if strictly interpreted, revive the kingly prerogative against which we rebelled. On the other hand, any bright-line temporal rule that we adopt as a prudential matter has the virtue of being easy to administer and of avoiding post-term disputes about the level of egregiousness necessary for certain conduct to be prosecuted.

As a theoretical matter, the discretionary policy of not prosecuting an ex-president for acts committed while in office (especially those involving even tangentially the execution of his official duties) would have to yield in extreme cases. And while we cannot, with precision, define what those extreme cases might be, one hopes we would know them when we saw them.

Thankfully, we have yet to confront this degree of egregious behavior. For now, it is sufficient to articulate a general rule: A president should not be prosecuted after he leaves office for actions that occurred while he was the head of state, but he should remain subject to investigation for actions that occurred before or after his term.

To say anything else would be an affront. The powerful should be held to account. For society to function, all Americans must believe that crime doesn’t pay and that everyone is equal before the law. To avoid strife, we may exempt a president from criminal investigation for his political actions (however heinous and criminal they may be), but if we go further, and extend to him the kingly prerogative of impunity for his lifetime, we go a long way to destroying the faith in the rule of law that undergirds democracy.

With those concerns somewhat resolved, how do we decide whether to investigate former President Trump?

In many ways, the investigation of an ex-president should be no different from that of anyone else. As in other cases, a prosecutor would conduct interviews, subpoena documents, serve search warrants, convene a grand jury, and, in the end, if appropriate, ask the grand jury to return an indictment. There may be plea agreements, or trials, and then convictions, appeals, and, ultimately, perhaps, a prison sentence.

Kevin Wack: American justice isn’t impartial anymore

In that context, a prosecutor would typically ask two interrelated questions: First, is there sufficient admissible evidence of criminality that could sustain a conviction on the crimes to be charged? If not, the prosecutor should let the matter drop.

In Trump’s case, it seems clear that multiple credible criminal investigations are warranted. While not all of them may prove well grounded, the existing public record of well-documented allegations of criminal misconduct provides plentiful predication for opening an inquiry. This record includes but is not limited to a New York Times investigation that has described potential tax and mortgage fraud by Trump and the Trump organization; a narrower investigation of a series of transactions in the run-up to the 2016 election that has suggested the possibility of both tax fraud and campaign-finance fraud; a claim in Bloomberg that Trump may have committed insurance fraud; the uncovering of evidence by ProPublica of Trump’s alleged mortgage and tax fraud; the allegations of Trump’s niece, Mary Trump, that the Trump family committed fraud in the probate of her father’s will; and multiple alleged incidents of sexual assault (to the extent not barred by a statute of limitations).

There are other investigations for which there is likewise predication, but that, as a matter of prudence, we ought to forgo because they involve actions the president took while in office. For example, more than 1,000 prosecutors have concluded that the Mueller report uncovered ample evidence of Trump’s criminal obstruction of justice, and, additionally, former Trump staffers have reported the president’s corrupt offer of a pardon for illegal conduct that advanced his political interests.

One cannot, of course, know what an investigation of the allegations of pre-term criminal conduct might ultimately uncover (and, indeed, at least one, and possibly three, investigations are ongoing). But were Trump just an average citizen, there would be a basis to open up an inquiry into his behavior.

Which brings us to the second question: If prosecutors (at least those in the federal system, with which I am more familiar) conclude that there is sufficient evidence to prosecute, they will ask if reasons of public policy exist that suggest that the prosecution should not be brought. Typical reasons might be that it’s a small enough infraction that it’s not worth their time, that they don’t have enough resources, or that the prosecution won’t have any deterrence value.

The Principles of Federal Prosecution are intended to guide prosecutors in the exercise of their discretion, and offers nine (admittedly flexible) factors for assessment and consideration.

The first of these, which asks what the current federal priorities are, is not specific to any individual. It allows, for example, for an administration to say that it is focusing on drug crimes or for another to devote resources to fighting child pornography or white-collar crime.

The remaining factors, however, deal with the specifics of the offense and the nature of the defendant. How serious is the crime? How culpable is the accused in the scheme, and what is his role? What is his criminal history? And, more generally, what would be the deterrent value of the prosecution?

Here, it is fair to say that any balance we can strike at this stage, before all the facts are known, strongly suggests that an investigation of former President Trump would be consistent with these principles and that they would not bar an investigation of his conduct were he just a typical citizen. Trump’s pre-term conduct (if it is proved) would indicate a long-standing scheme of fraud (akin to that perpetrated by Bernie Madoff, for example) and significant financial abuse—exactly that sort of pattern of conduct and severity of offense that, in normal cases, would demand the investment of federal resources. If Americans are to have any confidence in the concept of the rule of law and equality before the law, and if the Principles of Federal Prosecution are to be applied in a neutral manner, the same result must obtain here.

Focusing exclusively on potentially illegal conduct that occurs outside the presidency is unlikely to solve the problems that lie ahead. Trump’s supporters will not be mollified by the distinction. And leaving unaddressed criminal activity that occurred during the presidential term may be too high a price to pay. But this sort of uncomfortable compromise is the only way to maintain accountability for crimes without making political differences a criminal offense. At least, I hope that is so.

The real shame, of course, is that we even have to contemplate this issue at all. Three times in the past half century, Americans have had to ask whether a president should be prosecuted after he leaves office. Perhaps the better solution would be to be more careful in the person we elect.

PAUL ROSENZWEIG is a principal at Red Branch Consulting. Twenty years ago, he served as a senior counsel in the investigation of President Bill Clinton.

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multiverseforger · 4 years

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Prince Uxas, the son of King Yuga Khan and Queen Heggra and the second in line to the throne of Apokolips, plotted to seize control over the planet from his older brother, Drax.[6] When Drax attempted to claim the fabled Omega Force, Uxas murdered him and claimed its power for himself. His skin turned to stone, Uxas rechristened himself as Darkseid.[7][8][9][10] At some point, he fell in love with an Apokoliptian scientist and sorceress named Suli, with whom he had a son, Kalibak. However, Heggra ordered Desaad to poison Suli out of the belief that she was corrupting her son.

Following Suli's death, Darkseid's heart grew even colder and his disdain for his mother intensified when she forced him to marry a woman named Tigra, with whom he had another son, Orion. Seeking vengeance against Heggra for killing the one he loved, Darkseid ordered Desaad to poison her so he could finally became the supreme monarch of Apokolips. Darkseid then tried to force Tigra to eliminate Orion, but the latter was ultimately traded with Highfather's son, Scott Free, as part of a peace treaty between the warring planets of Apokolips and New Genesis.[11] This trade eventually became a setback for Darkseid, with Orion growing up to value and defend the ideals of New Genesis as a powerful champion in opposition to his father. The prophecy foretold that Darkseid would meet his final defeat at the hands of Orion in a cataclysmic battle in the fiery Armaghetto of Apokolips. Likewise, Darkseid and his training minion, Granny Goodness, were unable to break Scott Free's spirit after a long, torturous upbringing and Free ultimately managed to escape Apokolips, taking with him the mightiest of the Female Furies, Big Barda, as his wife. Free, now known as the superhero Mister Miracle, and Barda began living on Earth, and Darkseid used this "betrayal" as a pretext to declare the treaty with New Genesis abrogated so the planets could resume their conflict.

Seeing other deities as a threat, Darkseid invaded the island of Themyscira in order to discover the secret location of the Olympian deities, planning to overthrow the Olympians and steal their power. Refusing to aid Darkseid in his mad quest, the Amazons battled his Parademon troops, causing half of the Amazon population's death.[12][13][14] Wonder Woman was able to gain her revenge against Darkseid for killing so many of her sisters by placing a portion of her own soul into Darkseid. This supposedly weakened the god's power as he lost a portion of his dark edge.[15][16]

Darkseid's goal was to eliminate all free will from the universe and reshape it into his own image. To this end, he sought to unravel the mysterious Anti-Life Equation, which gives its user complete control over the thoughts and emotions of all living beings in the universe. Darkseid had tried on several other occasions to achieve dominance of the universe through other methods, most notably through his minion Glorious Godfrey, who could control people's minds with his voice. He had a special interest in Earth, as he believed humans possess collectively within their minds most, if not all, fragments of the Anti-Life Equation.

Darkseid intended to probe the minds of every human in order to piece together the Equation. This has caused him to clash with many superheroes of the DC Universe, most notably the Kryptonian Superman. Darkseid worked behind the scenes, using superpowered minions in his schemes to overthrow Earth, including working through Intergang, a crime syndicate which employs Apokoliptian technology and later morphed into a religious cult that worships Darkseid as the god of evil.

The Great Darkness SagaEdit

Main article: The Great Darkness Saga

One thousand years in the future, Darkseid has been absent for centuries and is almost completely forgotten. He returns and comes into conflict with that era's champions, the Legion of Super-Heroes. After using both scientific and magical methods to enhance his power, Darkseid transposes the planets Apokolips and Daxam—which places Daxam under a yellow sun and gives each of its inhabitants Kryptonian-like superpowers equal to those of Superman. Placing the Daxamites under his mental thrall, he uses them in a massive attempt to conquer the known universe. However, he is eventually defeated by the Legion and many of its allies.[17][18][19][20][21][22]

The Seven Soldiers and "Boss Dark Side"Edit

In Grant Morrison's 2005 Mister Miracle limited series, it was revealed that Darkseid had finally discovered the Anti-Life Equation, which he then used to destroy the Fourth World altogether. The New Gods fled to Earth, where they hid. Highfather and his followers were now a group of homeless people. Metron used a wheelchair, the Black Racer was an old white man in a wheelchair, DeSaad was an evil psychiatrist, Granny Goodness was a pimp (or "madam") for the Female Furies and Darkseid himself was now an evil gang leader who is referred to only as "Boss Dark Side". It is revealed that Darkseid actually gave the Sheeda North America in return for Aurakles, Earth's first superhero.[23] This was, in turn, purely in order for Darkseid to get Shilo Norman, whom he considers the "Avatar of Freedom", in his clutches so that he could eventually destroy the New Gods.

Final CrisisEdit

Main article: Final Crisis

As prophesied, Orion returns to Earth via boom tube for his final battle with Darkseid. During the massive fight, Orion ultimately kills him by ripping his heart out, which created a firepit of Apokolips from Darkseid's chest cavity (in reference to the prophecy of their final battle). As Darkseid dies, a battered, wounded Orion walks away from the battlefield having "won" the battle against his father once and for all. However, Darkseid's life essence endured even the death of his body and fell back in time, where he was reborn as "Boss Dark Side", aided by his resurrected minions and the supervillain Libra.

Once again bound to the form of a human, "Boss Dark Side" began to appear in a number of titles in the run up to Final Crisis. In Flash (vol. 2) #240, he led an army of fanatics, their will broken by the "spoken form" of the Anti-Life Equation, to kidnap the Tornado Twins. In Birds of Prey #118, he runs his Dark Side Club where superhumans fight to the death, brainwashed by drugs produced by Bernadeth. In Teen Titans #59, it was revealed that he had employed the Terror Titans to capture the Teen Titans and use them in his club fights.

In Final Crisis, Darkseid has begun to take over Earth and corrupt the Multiverse with the aid of his herald Libra, a reborn supervillain and antichrist-like figure who soon converts much of the Secret Society of Super Villains to his cause with the aid of the Crime Bible and the Holy Lance. Darkseid is also joined by the souls of his fellow evil New Gods, who, like Darkseid, now possess either modified human bodies or the bodies of other superpowered beings, such as Mary Marvel.

Darkseid also arranges for detective Dan Turpin to be lured into the Dark Side Club, where Turpin is turned into Darkseid's "final host", as his Boss Dark Side body has begun to mummify due to Darkseid's foul astral presence. With his legion of followers and allies aiding him as he undergoes his latest "rebirth", Darkseid successfully conquers the Earth with the unleashing of the Anti-Life Equation onto mankind. However, the rebirthing process is still far from complete as Dan Turpin's mind and soul, while corrupted by Darkseid's essence, still remains in firm control over his body. However, at the same moment Shilo Norman, the "Embodiment of Freedom" is shot by S.H.A.D.E. operatives, thus signalling the "Victory of Evil". Darkseid wins control over Turpin's body, now twisted in a close copy of his Apokoliptan former appearance, and wearing an updated version of his battle armor. Darkseid then gains the fullest of his power, his "fall" having the effect of compressing and crumpling space-time around Earth.

After escaping from captivity, Batman shoots Darkseid with the same radion bullet that killed Orion, while Darkseid simultaneously hits Batman with the Omega Beam, sending back in time and then "infecting" Batman with Omega energy that will cause him to jump forward in time, with disastrous results when he reaches the present. Darkseid is mortally wounded, but not before his Omega Sanction teleports Batman into prehistoric times. Remains believed to be Batman's (later revealed to be the last of the many Batman clones that Darkseid created) are found by Superman, who confronts Darkseid. As Darkseid mocks his old enemy for failing to defend Earth, it emerges that in Darkseid's fall through the multiverse, he created a doomsday singularity that now threatens all of existence. When Superman attempts to physically assault him, Darkseid reveals that he now exists inside the bodies of all those who fell to the power of the Anti-Life Equation and that killing Darkseid will kill humanity. Darkseid then reloads the gun that was used to shoot him, to kill Orion by way of firing the bullet backwards in time (a move Superman deems to be suicide due to the paradoxical nature of his actions: the bullet used to kill Orion is ultimately fired at him by Batman and is now poisoning him to death).

Before Darkseid can use the Omega Effect to kill Superman, Barry Allen and Wally West lead the Black Racer to Darkseid and making contact with him frees Turpin from Darkseid's control. Wonder Woman (having been freed from possession by one of Darkseid's minions) then uses her lasso of truth to bind Darkseid's spirit form, effectively freeing humanity from the Anti-Life Equation and being controlled by Darkseid. In his final effort, Darkseid's disembodied essence appears and tries to seize the Miracle Machine Superman has created; however, Superman uses counter-vibrations to destroy him. Furthermore, the last piece of Darkseid's plan fails when Batman, thanks to the actions of the new Batman (Dick Grayson), Red Robin (Tim Drake), Robin (Damian Wayne), and the Justice League, is able to return safely to the present, consuming the Omega Energy in his body without damaging the time-stream further, thus becoming the second individual, along with Mister Miracle, to escape the Omega Sanction.

Doctor Impossible later manipulates the Crime Syndicate of America into helping him resurrect Darkseid via a machine that draws energy from the Multiverse itself. The resurrection backfires, and instead creates a new being known as the Omega Man.[24]

The New 52Edit

Darkseid on the cover of Justice League vol 2 #23.1 (November 2013). Art by Ivan Reis, and Joe Prado.

In September 2011, The New 52 rebooted DC's continuity. In this new timeline, Darkseid's name is first invoked by a Parademon in Justice League #1.[25] He is later mentioned again in Justice League #2,[26] and in Justice League #3 Darkseid makes his first appearance in the series, seen in a vision by Victor Stone after he is injured by an exploding Mother Box.[27] In the final pages of Justice League #4, Darkseid himself appears.[28] In Justice League #5, the League confronts him but they are overpowered by him, when he severely hurts Superman with his Omega Beams and breaks Green Lantern's arm.[29] Finally, in Justice League #6, Darkseid is driven out when Cyborg activates the invaders' Mother Boxes and Superman forces him through a boom tube. The incidents that occur in these issues make Darkseid the very first foe the newly formed League faces as a team. The issue also reveals DeSaad and Steppenwolf, referring to Darkseid's daughter and their ceaseless search for her across countless worlds.[30] Darkseid's daughter escapes containment in Justice League of America's Vibe #7 after the dampeners on her cage are temporarily disabled.[31]

In the New 52 continuity, there is only one set of New Gods across the 52 Multiverse. So as Darkseid invades Prime Earth in Justice League, he sends his lieutenant Steppenwolf to do the same, with greater success, on Earth 2, resulting in the deaths of Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, and stranding Helena Wayne and Kara Zor-L on Prime Earth. Five years later, Darkseid once again invades Earth 2, which never fully recovered from his armies' earlier assault, and it is revealed that he and Highfather of New Genesis struck a deal allowing him the unchallenged right to invade Earth 2.

In Darkseid #1, his background story was revealed. Formerly a farmer named Uxas, he hated the deities of his world. So he traveled up to their mountain while they slept and tricked them all into fighting each other. As they were all weakened from the war, he killed them one by one with his scythe (similar to Kronos of Greek mythology) and stole their power, before destroying his world and creating Apokolips.

In Justice League: The Darkseid War (after the retirement of the "New 52" imprint), Darkseid comes into conflict with the Anti-Monitor. Darkseid's daughter Grail leads the Anti-Monitor, who is revealed to be a scientist named Mobius, to Darkseid for the former to kill the latter. Mobius believes that with the death of Darkseid, he will be free from being the Anti-Monitor. After an intense battle, the Anti-Monitor fuses the Black Racer with Flash and sends it after Darkseid. Using the fused Flash and his own powers, he kills Darkseid. With Darkseid dead, the universe is unbalanced as it has lost its God of Evil. Later, Lex Luthor would be merged with the Omega Sanction, becoming the new ruler of Apokolips.

After killing the Anti-Monitor using an Anti-Life Equation-powered Steve Trevor, Grail would later resurrect Darkseid through the newborn child of Superwoman. The child has the same powers as his father Mazahs, with the ability to steal the powers of others. Stealing the new "God" abilities of the Justice League, Grail fuses them with the child and brings Darkseid back to life. However, he is under her complete control. Grail later attempts to redeem herself by seemingly killing Darkseid with the Anti-Life Equation. However, it is later revealed that she reincarnated him back as a baby with the intention of teaching him differently.

DC RebirthEdit

Darkseid (as a baby) appears in DC Universe: Rebirth #1 where Grail tells him of Wonder Woman's long lost brother, Jason.

Baby Darkseid reappears in Dark Nights: Metal where it is shown that Batman stole him from Grail and intends to use the Omega Beams to send himself back in time. This never comes to fruition and Darkseid is either returned to or retrieved by Grail.[32]

Sometime afterwards, Darkseid matured into a toddler, and using telepathy, demanded that he needed to feast on Old Gods to return to his former self. After killing A.R.G.U.S. agents that were hunting them down, Darkseid and Grail began hunting down and taking the life force of Zeus' demi-god children, killing several including Perseus and Hercules, and growing into the size of a child. After recruiting Jason and luring Wonder Woman to him, Darkseid ages once again into a young man. He fights Wonder Woman himself and as he starts to drain her life force, he is betrayed by Jason. When Zeus appears and transforms into his true form, Darkseid fights the Olympian God, destroying their surroundings in their brawl. When they take a Boom Tube to Manila, Philippines, Zeus grabs onto Darkseid and unleashes bolts of lightning on him. However, Darkseid reveals that he planned for this and that his true target was Zeus himself, and he begins to drain and kill him, restoring Darkseid back to his original self. When the rest of the Justice League arrive, Darkseid decides it is best not to fight them as he does not want to risk revealing his greater plans, and promptly leaves through a Boom Tube with Grail

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militant-holy-knight · 4 years

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Kingdom of Heaven Review: Secular Agnostic Humanist Crusader Edition

Whenever the topic of Ridley Scott’s 2005 movie Kingdom of Heaven comes up, it invariably brings up how it’s one of his most mediocre movies and that “the Director’s Cut is better”. This makes sense since the movie actually had a very mixed reception when it was first released on theaters, as critics lambasted the cliched plot and characters and overall being all style and no substance. As it turns out, several changes were made behind the scenes by executives who felt the movie ran too long and cut scenes they felt were appropriate, but actually improved the story.

I’ve heard so many people praising the Director’s Cut to the point they even said it was an “whole different movie”, which was very confusing to me, and made me wonder if they actually saw it and aren’t parroting someone else. Now don’t get me wrong: it’s true that the Director’s Cut is the superior version to the theatrical one and does fix issues like character motivations and actions, it doesn’t even come close to fixing the foundation which it was built on: an extremely politically-biased and revisionist distortion, product of someone molded by their own time period than anything else.

The characters have anachronistic attitudes that are out of place specially at the heart of an holy war. The sympathetic characters - whether Christians or Muslims - can be identified as secular humanists that express religious tolerance and would rather live and let live, whereas antagonistic characters are characterized by their religious fanaticism. Baldwin IV and Saladin would rather live in peace with each other, but are beleaguered by the circumstances of their followers who clamor for war. This portrayal couldn’t be more absurd and further from the truth because the “peace” between the Kingdom of Jerusalem and the Ayyubi Caliphate was not meant to last forever, but more until both sides regrouped and rearmed to resume hostilities like an armistice, not to mention the fact both monarchs were extremely pious in their faiths (Catholicism and Sunni Islam, respectively) and considered themselves their staunch defenders.

This is no accident. Ridley Scott is an agnostic and has admitted at multiple occasions that he used it as an opportunity to criticize religion. Perhaps the most illustrative moment where this attitude sweeps in is during the climax when Jerusalem is eventually besieged and Balian delivers an speech to the army that boils down to “Jerusalem belongs to everyone”, which simply wouldn’t fly with the Christians at the time. Consider in that era where even people of their own faiths struggled among each other (The Kingdom of Jerusalem was Latin Catholic and other Christians like Orthodox, Armenians and Copts were often regarded as schismatics, while Sunnis and Shias were at war with each other like they always do), can you imagine if someone actually said that in regards to other religions?!?

A particularly inconvenient aspect of the movie that is clear for everyone who sees it is that only the Christian side is the only one truly hit with the fanaticism issue, whereas Muslims comes off as cleaner. When you really come down to it, the crusader side is filled with more despicable villains who are named, whereas the Muslim side has one token nameless mullah who is an asshole to Saladin, threatening him that if he doesn’t give them Jerusalem, they will kill him and find someone who can - that is about the extent of his villainy. There is also a Saracen rider that wants to duel Balian at one point, but he is just some random threat thrown in, and it’s later revealed he was an slave masquerading as someone else.

Now compare this with Balian’s asshole priest brother who steals his wife’s crucifix, the slimy Patriarch of Jerusalem, and Guy of Gisborne and Raynald of Chatillon, both of whom are generic warmongers that just want to kill infidels for no reason, the former kills an emissary which constitutes as an offense worthy of Genghis Khan’s wrath while the latter rapes and kills Saladin’s sister. What makes this worse is that none of these are true: The Patriarch actually helped ransom people during the Siege of Jerusalem, Guy wasn’t particularly better or worse than his contemporaries and if anything, he was regarded as an weakling rather than a bloodthirsty thug, whereas Raynald never even attacked Saladin’s sister (according to Arab sources) and while he was still a very violent man, it was the result of being held 16 years in a prison under Muslims in Aleppo and in the end, he died like a Christian martyr to jihadist terrorism - being told by Saladin to convert to Islam or die, which he picked the latter.

You can tell when certain fedoralords say they hate religion actually hate Christianity only, and this is the tone that oozes from this movie. No wonder a historian once called this movie “al-Qaeda’s version of the story” because Christians commit horrible atrocities against innocent Muslims hence Muslim aggression by Saladin is justified. If anything Bin Laden likely envisioned himself as an modern-day Saladin, hoping to unite the Muslim world against the “Eternal Crusader”. The lionizing of Saladin is laughable given the fact that until recent memory he was an obscure figure on account of being Kurdish, but was co-opted by Arab Muslims as their hero. I wonder how would audiences feel that Saladin had half Jerusalem’s population enslaved which is something he actually did in real life instead of letting them go like in the movie.....

There are also other problems with the movie besides religion that even the Director’s Cut couldn’t fix like Balian’s character. I already went over how he is representative of the movies’s secular humanist themes, but there is a lot more wrong with him beyond that. Simply put, he is the most vanilla flavor protagonist, devoid of charisma or flaws, and comes across as a Marty Stu when you think about it: a nobody who is revealed to be the bastard son of some crusader baron that just so happens to be influential enough with Jerusalem’s nobility that everyone good immediately befriends him. He has a tragic backstory that makes him an atheist, but is perfect and devoid of any flaws and is written in such way that serves as a surrogate for the audience. By contrast, his historical counterpart was a knight born and raised in Jerusalem who was actually devout and politically shrewd, which comes across as more interesting and Arab Muslims agreed since they wrote “he was like a king”. But nope. Can’t have that because Balian is actually Scott’s self-insert by his own admission and we can’t have a guy like real-life Balian because modern audiences can’t identify with him.

Scott seriously misunderstood the Knight Templars. Naturally like our lead villains they are also genocidal maniacs, but also appear to be a secular noble/warrior class of some kind since Guy and Raynald are affiliated with them (they weren’t in real life), and it’s a plot point that Guy is engaged with Baldwin’s sister Princess Sybilla. Templars made vows of chastity and poverty, schewing all property and titles so it makes no sense for either of them being part of the order, much less for a Templar to become king. (Afonso Henriques of Portugal was at least a former Templar).

And then there are the geo-politics... Even though Scott denied that the movie was an metaphor, it certainly comes across this way with characters talking about how much wealth they made from the campaigns as if this was the American intervention in the Middle-East for oil. Jerusalem had no resources, no real treasures except maybe the True Cross which had great emotional value for the Christians and in fact, it was the other way around: it was far more expensive, having to secure resources, armor and weaponry to join the crusade with the likely risk of death with no returning home with the only comfort being remission of sins in case of falling in battle.

The Crusades were precipitated by Muslim aggression in the first place, namely the Seljuk Turks who crushed the Byzantine Empire in the Battle of Mazinkert and began persecuting Christian pilgrims in the Holy Land, not to mention the subhuman conditions that Eastern Christians found themselves as dhimmis under Islamic rule. When framed this manner, the wrath of Latin Catholics hearing the atrocities carried out by the Turks is quite justified. Could Scott himself say this is justified compared to how much Muslim caravans were attacked by Templars on his movie?

So to sum things up: we have liberal political bias that portrays one side as the assholes while the others justified in retaliating, a perfect protagonist that is clearly a self-insert, generic villains that are evil for no reason other than being Christian, historical inaccuracies, white-washing certain figures while removing all nuance and depth from others, honestly embarrassing analogies with modern topics that stick out like a sore thumb. And in the end, for you to walk away with not much. I am sorry but even the Director’s Edition didn’t make things significantly better because the movie’s issues lies at their conceptual form: Balian is still a Marty Stu, the Christians are largely one-dimensional evil, the Muslims are honorable and enlightened, etc. You can’t make a story engaging when the setting is revolving around religious conflict and the leads are all secularists, or else it shows how much “smarter than thou” attitude you have.

I’ve heard about how Scott got into a spat with the British historian community who made very clear how his movie was bollocks. A common defense on his behalf is that he isn’t obligated to tell history like how it was and he made the movie he felt best, which is honestly just baffling because it’s very insulting towards the audience. I am not saying that the audience should be challenged (at least not in a Rian Johnson way), but imagine if Raynald’s captivity was brought up and his death was portrayed in redemptive fashion after all his atrocities, imagine Saladin preaching jihad against the crusaders, imagine Balian breaking his oath, etc. Now that would have made an more memorable movie instead of the one who is remembered for his slightly better version released separately. Certainly history had a better story to tell than Ridley Scott.

Like what Amin Maalouf, author of “The Crusades through Arab Eyes” once said.

It does not do any good to distort history, even if you believe you are distorting it in a good way. Cruelty was not on one side but on all.

#history #rants #reviews

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schmergo · 5 years

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Henry IV part 1 at the Folger Shakespeare Library: Informal Review

Shakespeare’s history plays often get an unfair reputation for being dry and dull. Something about the Roman numerals in the titles scares audiences off, I guess. But the Folger Shakespeare Theatre’s new production of Henry IV Part 1 is sleek, energetic, and action-packed. The 2 hours and 45 minutes (with intermission) flew by and I often found myself on the edge of my seat.

Director Rosa Joshi’s production creates a distinctive world for the rebels, royals, and ruffians who populate this play: half-futuristic, half-medieval inspired. King Henry and his court bear some resemblance to Captain Picard and his crew with simple monochromatic suits decorated with a stylized “IV” insignia, matching the giant neon symbol that looms over the set. The commoners of Eastcheap look one part ‘Burning Man’ festival, one part Renaissance festival, and knights wear camouflage pants while carrying real swords. It sounds like it shouldn’t work, but it does, and it all comes together to show how timeless this play is.

The wonderfully effective set, designed by Sara Ryung Clement, is an industrial looking network of scaffolding, ppes, ladders, and a catwalk. At the center of it all sits a looming throne that easily converts to a table for the tavern scenes (complete with a hiding space)! Actors use every inch of this jungle gym set to its full potential, most effectively in the battle scenes of the final act. Even set transitions serve as character moments (for example, Worcester aggressively shoves the throne offstage with almost clawlike hands).

The play’s aesthetic was strongest in its simplicity, though the sound design, filled with loud club music and air horn sounds, could get a little excessive. Joshi’s character-driven approach to the play, along with the Folger’s intimate space, served the text better than other bombastic productions of history plays that I’ve seen recently.

As the careworn king, Peter Crook had me hanging on his every word. Crook’s commanding performance was the most masterful portrayal of Henry I’ve seen yet. It’s rare to see such a confident, sophisticated delivery of Shakespeare’s verse, especially since the title role of this play is often overshadowed by other characters. A much younger and less-experienced actor, Tyler Fauntleroy nonetheless held his own as hot-tempered soldier Hotspur. Despite being easily angered and impulsive, Fauntleroy’s Hotspur comes across as quite likeable, with passionate energy and strong stage presence. He and his wife (Maribel Martinez) share a playful, intense union of two equally stubborn and strong-willed people—not veering into violent misogyny as I sometimes see.

I was less impressed by Avery Whitted’s portrayal of Prince Hal. On paper, he does everything right. He’s clearly a talented and well-trained actor with strong physical acting skills, an expressive face, and a good sense of timing. But when he opens his mouth to speak Shakespeare’s text, it just falls flat. He seems to be holding back a little, perhaps intimidated by the responsibility. (Looking at his bio in the program, I saw that this was his first professional Shakespeare play.) I kept waiting for him to ‘imitate the sun’ and show a true virtuosity of performance late in the show, but it never happened.

In a scene in which Hal faces his father for the first time, usually an electrifying scene, I found myself watching Crook instead of listening to a single thing Hal said, and the scene never built to an emotional climax. Whitted did build a great rapport with Edward Gero’s Falstaff, and his best work occurred in the very awesome and prolonged final sword fight between Hotspur and Hal. My heart was in my throat, and I KNOW what happens there.

Gero’s Falstaff has been front and center in all of the ads and promotional materials for the show. After all, he’s a world-class Shakespearean actor and a DC area treasure, and Falstaff is one of Shakespeare’s greatest roles. I found his Falstaff a wonderfully nuanced performance by a master Shakespearean… but is it a sin if I say I wished he let Falstaff be just a little sillier?

He is totally believable as the corpulent old con artist, clearly embodying every shade of his character, and the entire theatre went dead quiet in the outstanding scene in which Falstaff, in the middle of play-acting with Hal, begs his young friend not to banish him from his company. His reactions are well-timed, his expressions are arch, his earthy delivery is enjoyable, but I just didn’t laugh as much as I often do with this character. I wonder if this will still be true further into the run, since at this early performance, I noticed him slightly misspeaking a few lines. (I doubt most people in the audience would notice, but after directing this show last year, I know most of Falstaff’s lines pretty well.)

Another local favorite, Naomi Jacobson, is a standout as the scheming Worcester, here represented as a female character. With sharp red shoes and severe silver hair, she reminds me of the ‘strutting Teresa May’ meme come to life. Although she’s obviously manipulative and self-serving, I’ve never felt so sympathetically inclined toward Worcester before. She often seemed to vibrate with the injustice of the King’s treatment of her.

In general, I thought the play was most powerful in its dramatic moments and could have leaned just a little more into the comedy. It seemed slightly afraid to get too silly (except for one or two uproarious moments—my personal favorite bit being when one of Falstaff’s minions stuck his arm inside his shirt and pretended it had been cut off after the ‘robbery scene’). But for all that, it gave a warmth and urgency to the play that I’ve seen missing from bigger productions. It also incorporated choreographed stomping, clapping, and hip-hop/step movement into battle scenes in a way that actually worked to convey the noise of battle without becoming distracting, unlike some plays I’ve seen. And the ending? Well, let's just say Bri and I both went 'Oooooooh' just before the final blackout.

Henry IV is truly a play with something for everyone, and this production was directed with a clear love for the material. I recommend catching this show before it closes on October 13! Discounted tickets are available on TodayTix.com, and you can call the Folger box office for discounted tickets for young theatregoers!

#schmergo #shakespeare #henry iv part 1 #dc theatre #henriad #folger #washington dc #review #informal review

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uminohotaru · 5 years

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Hyakkimaru as an incarnation of Fudo, the Buddha’s fearsome face?

It's interesting how both Taho and Hyakki have their good reasons to do bad things that it’s almost impossible to give a clear answer who is on the right and who is on the wrong here. They descend the road to hell almost in sync, both of them getting more and more resolved to fight for their respective goals and protect their respective important things despite the costs. It was explicitly shown in Jukai episode, scenes jumping between them mercilessly slaying ghouls and throwing away their moral (Hyakki saying screw the people, he has Dororo; Taho saying how he will never let his feelings get in the way again), and then again and again, episode 21 being an epitome of their resolve to literally jump into the abyss. And here's the climax: we have them both as demons.

Or not both?

The ravine full of corpses and those not-completely-demonic orange flames, which transformed the horse into a fire-breathing kirin, had an interesting detail: the giant Buddha statue carved on the side of it. It holds a straight two-sided sword in the right hand and overall resembles the statue of Fudo from episode 13. The statue in the ravine:

And now the statue from the episode 13:

It’s face isn’t fierce like that of the Fudo from ep13, but it is most likely Fudo too.

Fudo Myo-o is one of the important deities of Japanese Buddhism. His statue can be seen in so many places in Japan that it’s not uncommon to find one near a waterfall or simply by a mountain path.

His Sanskrit name is Ācala and in Japanese his name is written 不動明王. It literally means “The immovable wisdom king”. He is the guardian of Buddhism and one of the five Wisdom kings along with Gōzanze, Gundari, Daiitoku and Kongōyasha. As such, he is the central figure and when the Five Wisdom Kings are represented together, he usually is in the middle.

He converts anger into compassion and cuts the ties of negative feelings and demons to liberate us from suffering through self-control.

Fudō has a furious countenance, blue skin, wielding a straight, double-edged sword in his right hand and rope or noose in the left. The rope is used to pull people back on to the correct path when they are heading towards evil or binds those that are ruled by violent emotions and passions. If the rope is ineffective then the sword is used to sever the link between worldly afflictions and karma thereby quenching the defiance in a persons heart to return them to the right path.

The image of the sword and dragon is seen to represent the weapons used by Fudō, the dragon being the rope, used to capture and bind, not to kill. You can seen here the rule in Gyokko ryū to use only the force that is necessary to achieve victory. The sword is the last resort and you must not rush to use it. Use the technique or weapon that is appropriate.

While some details are questionable, like wisdom or converting anger into compassion, the parallels are obviously intentional: the red flame surrounding him; the “dragon” as a fire-breathing horse. The parallels between Hyakkimaru and Fudo start the 2nd cour of the anime, the carver finding him to be an ideal personification of the fearsome Buddha: “I must have his face! The most magnificent I’ve ever seen! I’ve been waiting for a face like yours forever!” It appeared kinda strange back then, like why? This pure cute boy - an ideal face for Fudo?? But now it makes sense.

Which rises the question: if Hyakki, “reborn” at the bottom of the ravine full of corpses that were trashed there to rot, is representing the fearsome Buddha, is it completely justifiable for him to destroy and kill Daigo people who were thriving upon his sacrifice? Is he acting as a divine force here, a sword of karma, bringing justice to the land? To a certain extent, sure he is. But the real question is: doest it give him an exclusive right to kill, and by “right” here I mean an action free from karmic consequences? An indulgence is a western motif, but does it work here? I believe it doesn’t and I would hate it the most if the creators justify his rampage in the end, revealing that he actually wasn’t a demon, like Dororo is afraid, but a Buddha’s fierce face - Fudo.

What I mean is, being the one who brings the karma to the land, Hyakki still remains a human being whose actions must have the consequences, too. He isn’t a wise detached god free from destructive passions who acts with a sole purpose “to return human hearts to the right path.” If anything, he is a destructive passion himself. “He converts anger into compassion and cuts the ties of negative feelings and demons to liberate us from suffering through self-control” - and this is exactly what Hyakki isn’t, even if his actions have the effect of “cutting the ties of demons” for the Daigo land. So, this is ambiguous: yes, his motives are righteous, and yes, his actions serve as a payback to all those Daigo people (who have no idea, but ok, we can call their prosperous life undeserved), but at the same time - no, his actions AREN’T GOOD. They are driven by the same sentiments that Hyakki accuses his family for: desire to have a normal life. Desire to protect what’s important to you. Remember Sabame telling to Hyakki: “If it is our destiny to live on on this land, I must protect the land and it’s people. I didn’t care that they were ghouls. I was ready to give up my soul if it meant my people could escape this hell. Let me ask you one thing: why do you kill ghouls?” And Hyakki never answers that question. “I don’t care what you’re trying to protect. I will kill the demons and get it all back.” “A vagabond like you would never understand,” Sabame says. But ever since Dororo was captured by Itachi, Hyakki begins to understand that he, too, has something to protect. The transformation of his motivations completes in ep.20 after he nearly loses Dororo, not being able to defend her, and his resolve takes the form of this destructive perseverance to get back his hands and eyes as tools for it no matter the costs. And now he’s going on a bloody rampage to protect Dororo and get her back. It is a tragic irony that in the end he comes to where his enemies started. The power of human attachments...

And isn’t it exactly the same goal for Taho? Basically, it is the same: to protect, only Taho’s motives are more external (not specific people whom he holds dear, but Daigo people in general), while Hyakki’s are internal (Dororo as an important person in his life).

What makes it even more ambiguous is the fact that we see Taho from Hyakki’s perspective still having no sparks of the demonic flame: he is white EXCEPT for Hyakki’s own eyes on him, which is hella strange if Taho is an incarnation of Asura.

I can take the red eyes and the red spots where the arms are joined to Hyogo and Mutsu’s bodies as just a depiction of the demon’s doing, or that while Hyakki’s body parts are possessed by Asura, they are kind of demonic as well; but the fact that Taho has no demon flame in his aura still remains. I doubt the creators simply forgot to add it here, they are always thorough with the details. It can mean various things and I won’t even dive into it since it’s no use. The mechanics of this world, though has it’s inner logic, still can be bent whatever side the creators want it in the end, so no more predictions. Soon we’ll see. But it was fun to notice and decipher all the curious details. _

Let me add another description of Fudo I found:

The aim of the warrior is to posses Fudōshin, the spirit of Fudō. Fudōshin can be understood as many things – having a magnanimous and compassionate heart that remains dauntless – to possess unwavering resoluteness – to be a point of calm in a tempest – to be steadfast, immovable, imperturbable. By carrying an image of kenmakiryū on ones weapons the warrior is invoking the protection of Fudō and expressing the aspiration to achieve Fudōshin. Fudō serves humankind in protecting it from itself, the same should be true of the martial artist in protecting others.

The martial artist is not expressing the idea of non-violence. The martial artist will fight when required for the purpose of protecting others. The difference between selfish power and just action. The martial artist does not seek violence but will respond appropriately to the violence of others with a calm heart.

This can be seen as the calming of emotional responses or extremes. Fudōshin is to be able to control emotions, removing the ego enabling the body, mind and spirit to act in unison, unencumbered by desires – as seen in the idea of mushin 無心, no-mind, a mind that is not distracted as opposed to an empty or vacant mind.

Well, Hyakki is nowhere near that state yet.

And another curious parallel:

There is a legend that Fudō was challenged to duel with a representative of another faith. They both transformed their bodies into various forms to gain advantage, upon assuming the form of flaming swords they found they were equally matched. Fudō then transformed into a dragon, entwining the opponents sword and began to devour it from the tip and achieved victory. This image has been passed down to the modern day as the sword entwining dragon Kurikara Ryū-Ō Fudō 倶梨伽羅龍王不動 or shortened to Kurikara Fudō 倶梨伽羅不動. The dragon is both servant of Fudō as well as being a representation the deity.

The ambivalence continues: Tahomaru, Hyogo and Mutsu as a personification of Asura

#dororo #hyakkimaru #tahomaru #rant #umi rants #analysis

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flyingsassysaddles · 6 years

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I ship Mongolia with happiness and success, and with India for no reason in specific

India/Mongolia

(Shout out to @ariuka-munkh for giving the idea for the pic :P I really like this ship too!!))

Tibet/Mongolia

Historical Relationship

Alright, so this one is also a bit of a doozy, and kinda long. However, it still pretty cool! This one will also be under a keep reading as well!

Like Tibet, there were few contacts between the Mongols (as the Blue Turks/Black Tatars) and India pre-Mongol Empire, on account of India being behind the Himalayas and on its own subcontinent. According to this source, a brief paper on India-Mongolia relations, some tribes from the Kangra kingdom migrated to the Mongolian Steppe to the Mongolian steppe 10,000 years ago before returning to their homeland 2,000 years later. Since India has always been a place of prominent trade and part of the silk road, there, of course, might have been contact via the silk road, ideas and products traveling from India and eventually finding themselves on the steppe, though the influence didn’t have a great effect on the tribes of the steppe, it was still there.

Fast forward to the Mongol Empire, specifically after the invasion of Khwarezmia. The Shah Jalal ad-Din of Khwarezmia had about 20,000 soldiers dedicated to hunting him down after the Khwarezmia empire fell, and the Shah escaped to India, and of course, the Mongols followed. At the battle of Indus in 1221, what was ledt of the Shah’s army was destroyed and he feld. Asking for an alliance (or asylum) from the Delhi Sultanate of India, he was turned down, he fought against local leaders with his small army that he managed to create, and eventually securing an alliance with a local khokhar chieftain from the Salt Range by marrying the chieftain’s daughter, gaining a bigger army. Upon hearing there was a rebellion in modern-day southern Iran, he goes there and allies himself with more people, specifically the Khilji, Turkoman, and Ghori tribes.

Now that Shah Jalal al Din had a big enough army, he and his men fought a battle with a Mongol division headed by a general who had been tracking him down. they win the battle, but his army squabbles over the booty from after the battle, the argument causes his allies to abandon him, and soon after, after Genghis Khan’s death and the rise of his son Ogedei Khan, the Shah was defeated (don’t worry, he lived to see another day and went on to conquer the kingdom of Georgia and a ton of other shenanigans).

In 1235 a Mongol force invaded Kasmir, which, after revolting against Mongol rule in 1254-1255 and the Mongols killing the king, was secured as a Mongol principality. The Mongols also invaded the Indus river valley in 1241.

In 1251, Mongke Khan rises to power, and present at the ceremony was a Delhi prince who requested troops to overthrow his elder brother and take control of the Delhi Sultanate. Mongke Khan instructed his brother and general Sali to help the prince, and the Mongols then conquered Sindh. However, Mongke Khan’s brother, Hulagu refused to launch a large-scale invasion on India, saving his troops for the fight against the rest of the Middle East (poor Baghdad) and there was peace between the Mongols and India for a bit.

Under Duwa Khan in 1292, the Ilkhanate, aka Chagatai Khanate, invaded India yet again. However, during a battle, their advanced guard was defeated, taken prisoner by the Khalji Sultan. Scared of the Mongol army, he bought off their attacks and the captured army converted to Islam and settled in India. There were two more invasions from 1296-1297. A mixed Turk-Mongol army also fought against the Rajput kings in 1298 but disbanded over arguments over the captured wealth.

In 1299, Delhi Sultan Alauddin Khilji attacked the Mongols, and managed to push them back and captured a few cities. However, the Mongols tricked his generals and surrounded his troops, killing them and their general. However, the Sultan barraged them with too many attacks to stand their ground, so they went to the mountains to regroup. Attacking when the sultan was least prepared, besieging another city, they defeated him and even conquered Delhi and looted it.

This prompted the Delhi Sultanate to create more fortifications, but the Mongols found great success in raiding anyway, and were on the way back to Central Asia, carrying all their loot, when the sultan’s army surprised them in the Battle of Amroha Kubak, which the Mongols lost, and Alauddin Khilji had the generals they captured trampled to death by elephants, and the prisoners’ heads hung from the walls of a fort. Fun guy.

Another invasion came happened in 1307-8, which the sultan also defeated. The same year Duwa Khan died. Soon after the sultan crippled the Mongol line of the control into India by attacking several strategic cities. The Mongols invade Kashmir again and pillaged the area for 8 months before leaving in the winter.

ANOTHER another invasion in 1327 under Tasmashirin, sacking towns and cities and eventually besieging Delhi, and the residing Sultan paid a heavy bounty to prevent from more attacks. From this point, the Mongol raids mostly stopped, until, you guessed it, Timur and Barbur.

Timur the Lame has spent his military career before the invasion of India by attacking and conquering the Golden Horde, parts of Persia, Iran, Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Mesopotamia. Notorious for how brutal his troops and how cunning and strategically brilliant he could be, Timur was an adamant believer in Islam, and imperialism, invading India on the pretext that India’s Muslim rulers were showing an excessive tolerance to Hindus. Timur was a descendant of Chagatai, Genghis Khan’s son, but his army was mostly made of Turks. Still, there were some Mongols in there, and Timur believed that he was trying to restore the Mongol Empire, so onward.

Attacking in 1398, Timur destroyed most things that stood in his way and Delhi’s army was destroyed, along with the city of Delhi, taking more than a century to recover. He actually headed back to Central Asia after that, it was his grandson Babur who established the Mughal Empire.

Denied any power in Central Asia, Babur turned his attention to India. Taking Lahore in 1523, he allied himself with a rebel leader to conquer Delhi, since the ruler there was despised. In 1526, the sultan and Babur go head to head, and Babur emerges victorious, going on to conquer the rest of northern India with his son. He spent the rest of his life structuring his new kingdom, dying in 1530. His empire is remembered as the Mughal Empire, and lasted close to 300 years, Mughal itself meaning Mongol.

He was remarkably tolerant to all religions when he was a ruler, a point that his descendants copied. In fact, it was when they stopped being tolerant that the empire started to weaken. India boomed during this period, the Taj Mahal was constructed and India became a Muslim power comparable to the Ottoman Empire.

Four generations after Babur, Aurangzeb seized power, killing his three brothers and securing himself on the throne, sending his father away from power. A very stronger believer in a more orthodox version of Islam, he enforced strict Islamic laws and even banned music, expanding the empire as well. However, after a revolt, the empire lost much control over the area of Afganistan, weakening it considerably. He died in 1707, and from this point on, the Mughal Empire began slowly collapsing, kingdoms popping up around it and causing it to shrink. While the empire was getting weaker, the British East India Company was getting stronger.

After the Battle of Palashi in 1757, the British East India Company had political control of India, the Mughal rulers being nothing more than puppets. In 1857, parts of the Indian army revolted, but Britain quickly put it down to protect its interests. Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar was then arrested and exiled to Burma, and this was the end of the Mughal Dynasty,

I know what you’re thinking, if there were so many battles and wars and the Mongols even partially ruled India for a while, why are the countries close today?

The two coutries of India and Mongol share a long history, yes, but they also share another thing- Buddhism. The Mongols became Buddhists, and India was known as the and of Buddha by the Mongols, making it a place of great respect, many Mongols going to study there and learn from India’s many schools. India also took part in the Mongol Empire’s expansive silk road, and many items and ideas were exchanged between the two groups via the silk road. Indian culture spread throughout Siberia and Central Asia, and the Mongols also transcribed many Indian philosophies, teachings, and medical practices that were lost to India itself over the centuries, preserving the knowledge. India is also seen as a “third, spiritual neighbor” by Mongolia, and this closeness was illustrated through the actions of the states in the modern day.

Mongolia, the modern day country, had the special privilege of being vetoed or having the threat of being vetoed, from becoming part of the UN by China, who claimed Mongolia was part of China so it couldn’t become a member. The United States also led a western coalition against Mongolia being recognized, most likely to prevent the USSR from gaining any more nations under its control, as Mongol was part of the Soviet bloc. As a consequence, it wasn’t until 1961 that Mongolia was fully recognized by the UN, and Russia had to hold the nationhood of African nations hostage to do it. And India campaigned heavily for Mongolia to become a state.

India recognized Mongolia in 1955, six years before the UN did. The next year, India also hosted the first Mongolian ambassador. India began vigorously campaign for Mongolian UN membership, and at the 10th UN general assembly, India’s representative said, “Mongolia was founded neither yesterday nor today but has existed as an independent state over many centuries. Hence, similarly like any other country, the Mongolian People’s Republic has full rights to become a member of the United Nations Organization.”

At the 15th UN general assembly, India once again advocated heavily for Mongolia to becoming an independent nation, saying, “If they received so many countries in the United Nations then why should Mongolia stay outside it? What had she done wrong? What kind of error did she commit against the (UN) Charter? The people of Mongolia are tranquil, and her peace-loving toilers are firmly striving for progress, and it seems absolutely wrong, from the principle point of view, not to allow her to the great organization.”

After the 1971 war against Pakistan, and the creation of Bangladesh, the prime minister wanted to seek recognition for Bangladesh into the UN, and after much lobbying, only Bhutan and Mongolia co-sponsor the resolution for Bangladesh’s recognition. Many nations, including the US and China, doubted that the secessionist entity could really be a state. When Mongolia backed India’s resolution, Pakistan cut off diplomatic relations, but Mongolia still didn’t change stances.

In 1973, India and Mongolia signed the Joint Indo-Mongol Declaration, listing the 8 principles that would guide India-Mongolia relations. The treaty was then backed up by a Treaty of Friendly Relations and Cooperation in 1994. Strong ties continue as India sets up institutions of religious study, information technology, and skill development, and in defense and cyber defense also pushes them closer.

The only thing buffering them is the physical distance, as it’s hard to send resources, tourism, and trade since they’re so far from each other. There’s no direct flight path from India to Mongolia in fact, one has to go through Russia or China’s airports. However, this might change as the two strengthen relations.

I learned a lot from this one, and hey, they’re pretty darn cute. Thank you for the ask!

#aph india #aph mongolia #indmon #monind #hetalia #aph #india/mongolia #Mongolia World Wide Shipping Event!#history #this one took 7 years off my life #sassy's art #sassy's writing

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royal-red-asks · 6 years

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akitalepu · 6 years

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Some Things Stay the Same (2/2)

Note: This takes place during and right after the bonus scene in Black Panther. This is not a romantic Bucky/Shuri fic.

...

Previously:

Nothing...just, uh, the way you boss the King around. Reminds me of my little sister. Nice to know some things stay the same, is all.” Bucky murmured quietly, staring at his tea.

The princess of Wakanda shifted in her seat, facing the young soldier with very old eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Will you tell me about her?”

Now:

Bucky’s grip tightened on the delicate teacup and his eyes dropped from Princess Shuri’s steady brown gaze.

“You needn’t if it is too difficult—but it may help with the memory recovery process.” she murmured kindly.

Bucky set his teacup down and scrubbed his hand through his face, pushing strands of dark hair away.

“It’s not difficult...to remember her. But we didn’t part on great terms.” He muttered. “I’m not even sure where to start.”

Shuri took a slow sip of ajiri tea and grinned. “The beginning is usually the best place.” Despite himself, Bucky rolled his eyes and a smile slowly crept over his face. Shuri’s eyes danced with mischief as the Winter Soldier melted away and Bucky emerged, his dark blue eyes far away, recalling memories from the early 1900s.

“Well, she was a lot like you, actually. We were close as kids. She was three years younger than me, and stubborn as a mule. Her named was Rebecca. Rebecca Ida Barnes. Everyone called her Becky. Always following me around, bossing me around. Highly competitive—Beck would learn games and then when she lost she’d throw a fit and make up her own rules.” Bucky snickered.

“One time, when my dad was at work, the power went out in a storm. We built a fort out of dry laundry and lit about a dozen candles—I know, I know, but this was a different time—and played cards for hours. Whenever Becky lost she’d blow out all the candles, steal the matches and lock herself in the closet, refusing to come out until I forfeited my winnings which were usually,” Bucky grinned, remembering. “Old peanuts. Dad came home to find us completely in the dark, huddled under the laundry with peanut shells cracked all over the place. He made us sweep up all the crushed shells.”

Shuri shook her head, chuckling, “And where was your mother during all this? Did she scold you, too?”

His grin faded and he grew quiet again. “My mom, she ah, she...passed away two years before that. I was 8. Cancer came quick.”

Shuri kicked herself mentally. Why was she constantly putting her foot in her mouth around this man?! “I’m very sorry, Sergeant Barnes. I can’t imagine losing a parent that early in life.” She murmured softly.

Bucky dipped his head in acknowledgment, long hair covering hooded eyes that were suddenly blurry with hot tears. “Thanks, she was quite a lady, you know? My mom was an immigrant when she came to America.

Her named was Winifred, but everyone called her Winnie. She settled in Hell’s Kitchen with friends first, then moved to Brooklyn when she married my dad.

My ma came from a small village in Ireland. Most everybody there, in that village, was poor and farmed for their livelihood. They all spoke Gaelic first, English second. Ma had a real heavy brogue when she came over. My dad always said he didn’t understand a single thing she said in their first conversation, but he didn’t care because she was so beautiful and kind.” Bucky smiled fondly, remembering many family dinners when his dad had retold the story to he and his little sister. Becky and Bucky would make retching noises as their parents kissed at the end of the familiar story, making moon eyes at each other.

“How did your parents meet?” Shuri asked curiously. “I take it he was not Irish then?”

Bucky snorted. “No, my father was from a well-to-do English family who didn’t care much for religion. My father’s family didn’t approve of him marrying a poor Irish farmgirl with a limited education and devout Catholic beliefs. My dad converted to Catholicism before they married and cut off most ties, except with his sister Ida. My aunt Ida was great. Becky’s middle name came from her. She raised us after my dad died a few years later.”

He continued, “My mom and dad met at the dry cleaner where she worked. He came in to collect his shirts before going to an interview later that day. Mom always said this was an accident, Dad said it was on purpose. She was ringing him up at the register when she knocked over a small pile of change. They both bent down to pick it up at the same time, and knocked heads. Well, my dad’s nose started bleeding a lot from the impact and she was apologizing profusely and also happened to knock over a flower vase as she was apologizing. So, my dad’s nose is bleeding, my mom’s frantically trying to dry his shirts of flower water with a few tissues and apologizing in a mix of Gaelic and English. When my mom noticed how much blood there was, she went white as a sheet and fainted.”

At this point, Shuri was crying silently with laughter. “However did your father ask your mother on a date when he’d made the poor woman faint?!”

He laughed aloud. “Well, he called an ambulance and they ended up in the hospital next to each other. When my mother woke up, she was disoriented and was confused as to why a man in a fancy suit with a bloody nose was trying to shake her awake to apologize—so she started screaming like a banshee and cursing him in Gaelic.”

“Once she calmed down and realized what was happening, they both apologized to each other. It took him two months to work up the courage and go back to the dry cleaner’s to ask her on a date.” Bucky smiled fondly.

“Becky was a lot like her. Smart as a whip, but kind, too. One time, she caught some guys in the neighborhood kicking a homeless guy. Without even thinking, Becky ran full-throttle down the street and began beating the ever-living daylights outta guys six inches taller than her. She was all of 15, then. I think they were more startled by the tiny girl screaming Gaelic curses at them, but they never bothered that guy again.

She even helped Steve out of some scrapes even though Dad, Ida and I forbade her to. Becky never listened.

She never outgrew her competitive edge. Beck was always the first in everything. She learned how to ride her bike before me, how to drive before me—hell, how to drink before me, too. My sister was the top of her class and the first woman in our family to attend college.” Bucky smiled proudly. “Next to Steve, she was my best friend. And the only one to call me James, even if it was only when she was angry with me.” He smiled a little at the memory. Becky was a whirlwind, quick to action and judgment and unrelenting in voicing her opinions. Bucky privately thought she would’ve gotten along great with Peggy Carter.

He closed his eyes. Bucky thinks about what life would’ve been like, after the war, sometimes. Becky would marry the pediatrician she’d been sweet on in college—Dr. Proctor. Bucky would be best man at Steve and Peggy’s wedding. He’d walk Becky down the aisle at her wedding, trying not to cry and failing as she rolled her eyes and smiled fondly at her big brother, the sap.

The couples would visit each other on the weekend, have barbecues in the summer and Bucky would hold nieces and nephews in one arm, carefully, lovingly. They’d never go to war again.

He’d be the fun uncle, bring them candy and too many presents on Christmas and shoot off fireworks with them on Steve’s birthday, the fourth of July. Peggy and Becky would yell at Bucky and the kids, warning him not to lose his other arm. “SO HELP ME, JAMES!” they’d shout in tandem and Proctor and Steve would snicker behind paper cups of lemonade as Bucky rolled his eyes and the kids would scream with delight as they sprinted every which way with sparklers. Bucky would look at them all—Becky and Steve, Proctor and Peggy and all the kids, his nieces and nephews and though he’d be missing an arm, he’d have all he needed, right infront of him. Safe, from everything, watching colors dance in the sky—

“—Sergeant Barnes? Bucky?” Shuri was shaking him slightly by the shoulders. Bucky snapped out of his daydream.

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “I was thinking about what life might’ve been like, if the war had turned out...differently for me. For Steve.”

Shuri scrutinized him with concern. He had been doing this left often, but he still had these moments, often lasting up to half an hour, where he would stare vacantly, morosely at the distance. Shuri knew his mind was half a century and a world away during these times.

“I see...you mentioned that you weren’t on good terms when you left for the war. What happened?” She hesitated slightly but had to know if there was something missing. There was an unresolved pain he was holdng back, not mentioning.

Bucky tipped his head toward the mid-morning sky, soft with clouds. His eyebrows scrunched painfully, remembering her last words as though it had been yesterday. “Becky...she yelled and screamed and threw things when I told her I was leaving to go to war, with Steve. She said...she said if I left, voluntarily, she would never speak to me again. Not even if I came back in a box.”

Shuri looked at him in horror.

Bucky opened his eyes and blinked at the sun. “You have to understand—Becky was afraid. Young men—boys, a lot of them, were going overseas and not coming back. We’d already lost our mother and father. Aunt Ida was getting on in years.

There would be enough money for Becky to continue college and even get her own place if she wanted after graduation until she found a job, but she cussed at me and told me it wasn’t the money she was worried about.

Becky was terrified of losing me. I was scared, too, of all the dangers she’d face when she left for college, since it was several states away. I kept imagining her getting lost—she had the worst sense of direction—or God forbid anything worse! I couldn’t protect her at college. I begged her to relocate closer, go to a college near home. But, she insisted on her independence. Still, she didn’t have anybody keeping an eye on her. I didn’t sleep for a week after she left until Steve talked me down from my hysteria. He and Ida both sat me down and told me I had to stop worrying or I’d ruin my health. After that, Beck and me chatted every Sunday, no matter what. It helped a lot.

Things were pretty serious with her beau, Proctor, at that point when I enlisted, but they weren’t going to get married until after college, at least. He was going to propose with my mother’s ring—I gave it to him. He promised to take care of her, and by the look in his eyes, I knew he was serious. But, she wouldn’t forgive me for following Steve into war.” Bucky’s eyes slipped shut again, his hand now gently circling the teacup. The tea was cold and stale now. “I assume that after I ‘died’ they informed her. But I don’t know for sure. I’ve never checked.”

Shuri sat quietly. “She thought you abandoned her.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve never even tried to trace—“

“No.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, but firm. “That part of my life is over now.”

Shuri’s shoulders drooped with disappointment. She could easily track down records, family history, where Becky might be now, where her children or grandchildren might be, if she had married Proctor or not, but instead of mentioning all this to Sergeant Barnes, who was likely thinking the same thing, Shuri merely rose and mentioned, “Becky sounds like a remarkable woman. Thank you for telling me about her, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Sure,” Bucky smiled a little, the corners of his mouth finally turning up again. “She would’ve liked you.”

Shuri grinned. “I’ll make some more tea. Would you like a new cup?”

“Any chance of that coffee?”

coffee?”

“...Very well. One cup. For another story.” Shuri walked away quickly to brew another pot for herself and coffee for the Winter Soldier, who snorted quietly in the background.

...

One week later:

Bucky returned to his small room, exhausted after a day of learning more about Wakanda’s history and language, his therapy sessions and a baffling session where the princess tried to explain Vine compilations to him.

On his nightstand, there was a steaming cup of tea and a simple manila folder with the words, “Rebecca Ida Barnes Proctor” typed on the front.

A short note from Shuri read,

“Sergeant Barnes-

Thank you for all the stories. I hope this can fill in some of the missing chapters.

Best,

-Shuri”

Bucky sighed deeply. The kid never really gave up. With tentative hope, Bucky opened the folder and began to read about the past. And for the first time in seventy years, he wasn’t afraid to look at those old chapters and see what he missed.

#bucky barnes #shuri #black panther #black panther fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #some things stay the same verse #some things stay the same part 2

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