#ch 317

[lloydfrontera]

also javier declaring he's gonna kill a fucking angel,, because they dared to threaten lloyd,,, literally going against divine will because what's heaven against his best friend,,,

[sunflowercider]

Lloyd felt wronged. He couldn't lose the Jewel like this. He had to stop destiny and protect Count and Countess Frontera, Julian, and everyone else. He wanted to happily spend the rest of his life with them, who had become his family now. [...] Over my dead body, Lloyd told himself as he tensed his eyes and bit his lips.

[every-monkey-d-luffy]

[every-chopper]

[roguestorm]

I think they should be in love again <3

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 14: NO MISFORTUNE IS WITHOUT BLESSING

synopsis: you and connor make your way to cyberlife tower.

word count: 3.1k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: i hate that this fic is almost over i'm really sad ☹️☹️

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere , @foggy0trees0 , @princessofenkanomiya , @n30n-f43 , @igna4400

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

You lean your head back against the headrest and sigh, looking out of the window. There’s barely anyone else out on the roads – the curfew is preventing anyone from participating in the night life of Detroit. 

Connor shifts on the other side of the automated taxi, once again in his stiff CyberLife suit.

“I just can’t believe it,” you blurt out. “Like, me? Out of everyone it could’ve been – me?”

“What do you mean?” Connor asks. 

“You know what I mean.” You look over at him, then at the floor of the car. “I can’t believe my life is… an experiment. That I’m an android, and my entire life was carefully constructed. And also that I’m patient zero. That’s a big one.”

Connor barely just moves his hand closer to yours where it rests on the car seat, and you just barely glimpse it out of the corner of your eye. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” You laugh humorlessly. “I think I’ll containerize this and unpack it later. I don’t have time for it now.”

“Well…” His pinkie brushes yours. “I’ll be here for you when you decide to, Officer.”

You glance down at your barely-touching fingers, but it still ignites more sparks in your belly than you can count. You suppress a smile and look out the window. “Thank you.”

The car rolls to a stop in front of the CyberLife gates. A few armed guards are standing around, and one of them comes around the Connor’s side of the car. 

He rolls down his window and looks over at the guard. “Connor model, serial number 313 248 317.”

The guard gestures at you with the butt of his gun. “What about you?”

“A police unit. An RU700, serial number 313 499 095,” Connor answers for you. “We’re to be expected.”

The guard looks over at the other guards, then back to Connor. A small voice in his helmet chirps, “Identification successful.” He steps back and waves at the others. The gates lower and Connor rolls the window back up. The car starts driving again.

You shift back in your seat and sigh, the tension leaving your shoulders. When you face forward, you notice a car disappearing around the curve in front of you.

“Huh,” you mumble. “I didn’t think there would be anyone else out on the roads.”

“It could be a model like myself being transported to CyberLife for direct deactivation,” Connor says. “Though I don’t know of any other prototypes like me.”

You look out the window. The ground-level monorail beside the road hums as it whirs past. A statue in the middle of the pseudo-moat in front of the CyberLife tower stands tall, its arms bent and hands cradling something invisible.

“I thought Americans were advanced in their sculpture technology,” you say. 

Connor looks over at you. “What do you mean?”

“The statue.” You point at it. “It’s not very impressive.”

His face twists in confusion, and there’s a flicker of an awkward smile. “What is your criteria for an impressive statue?”

“There’s one by Facility 3826,” you say. “The Soviet Sickle Monument – it’s a statue of a man holding up a golden sickle with one hand, and holding a bag of grain against his chest with his other arm. It was designed by two sculptors and built autonomously by the Kollektiv 1.0 neural network. I don’t remember which year it was erected, but I know it was a few years after World War 2. That’s an impressive statue.”

Connor’s LED blinks for a moment. “The designers were Elena Mukhina and Alexander Kibalnikov, and it was built in 1951. It’s described as the ‘world’s first collaborative artistic effort between man and machine’.”

You look over at him with a soft smile. “You said their names right.”

“Huh?” He looks back at you.

“Your pronunciation,” you say. “It’s getting better.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrow. “I don’t recall mispronouncing any Russian names.”

You huff out a laugh and roll your eyes with a smile. “Mhm. Sure.”

The car rolls to a stop, and you follow him out of the car. You glance up and watch a police drone circle above. Two guards standing in front of the door let you into the building, which holds more guards than civilians. 

You look around. Everything is white, grey, and clean-cut. The guardrails are made of glass, and the only plants in here are clumps of carefully-maintained bamboo stalks.

The guard in front of you and Connor holds up a hand, and the two guards on either side of both of you watch carefully. 

“We’ll escort you,” the front guard says. 

“Thank you,” Connor says. He starts walking, and you follow. As do the other two guards, who bring up the rear.

Your heart beats a little harder as you walk. Connor is smart – a genius, even. Still, you wish you could tap into his head and see what he’s thinking, if only for your peace of mind.

You reach out and brush the backs of your fingers against Connor’s, just light enough to seem like an accident, but he knows better. He glances over at you and gives a quick, resolute nod as a silent reassurance. He’s got a plan. He’s just waiting to execute it.

The front guard leads you and Connor into a space that reminds you of the cylindrical plexiglass tube the PEC-4 Birchtree is held in. But there are no angels here – only plastic, unmoving mannequin androids that stand on pedestals that line the walkways. 

The guard stops by the doors to an elevator, then jerks his head toward it, silently gesturing for you and Connor to go in. You bite the inside of your lip and follow Connor inside. Only one guard files in after you.

“Agent 84,” the guard says as he pushes a few buttons on the elevator’s interface. “Level sub-49.”

You glance over at the tower directory and notice that level sub-49 is the warehouse. Your eyebrows furrow and you brush the back of your hand against Connor’s again. He nods again without looking at you. 

The guard puts his foot in the door and reaches into his sidearm holster. You tense as he pulls it out, but he grabs it by the barrel and hands it to Connor. 

“Чего…?” You mumble as Connor takes the pistol.

The guard takes a step back and the elevator doors close. As soon as it starts moving, you feel something solid and familiar press against your back. 

“Connor?” You say.

“You will do as I say, when I say it,” Connor says, his voice cold and even. It reminds you of who he was in the interrogation room. “I am the one with the gun, and you are another expendable deviant.”

“I – what?” You say. “Connor, what are you doing?”

“You will act as a bargaining chip to prevent Connor from waking the androids in the warehouse,” he says. 

“Connor?” You repeat. “There’s a second Connor?”

“I am the second Connor,” he says. “The original is in the warehouse.”

The elevator dings, and the doors open. Fake-Connor takes your upper arm with one hand and presses the muzzle of the gun against your back harder. “Walk.”

You walk, maintaining an even and slow pace. Fake-Connor keeps the gun in contact with your back as he walks behind you, guiding you in between the rows of stationary androids. He pushes you into the aisle, keeping the gun trained at your head. 

“Эй!” You stumble, holding your hands up. “Тихо, тихо.”

Right in front of you is Connor – the real one (you think). He’s frozen where he stands, interfacing with an android, his hand wrapped around the android’s forearm. His tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously as his eyes flicker between you and Fake-Connor. 

“Let go of the android, Connor!” Fake-Connor says. “And I won’t shoot.”

Connor’s eyes slowly take you in as his mouth falls open. Words fail him for a moment, but he finally manages a small, “You’re alive?”

You swallow and nod. “Yes. I just… it’s a long story, okay?”

Connor nods back, his lips still parted with that dumbstruck look on his face.

“The Officer’s life is in your hands,” Fake-Connor cuts in. “Now it’s time to decide what matters most; them, or the revolution?”

“I’m sorry, Officer,” Connor says. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach. “You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all this.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “Just do what you have to. I’ll come back… I – I think.”

“I can’t take that risk!” Connor says, then he turns to Fake-Connor. “If I surrender, how do I know you won’t kill them?”

“I’ll only do what’s strictly necessary to accomplish my mission,” Fake-Connor says. “It’s up to you whether or not that includes deactivating this deviant.”

Connor’s eyebrows draw together, but before he can say anything, Fake-Connor steps closer to you, pressing the muzzle of the gun against the side of your head in a way that’s sickeningly familiar. 

“Enough talk!” He snaps. “It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you gonna save the Officer’s life? Or are you gonna sacrifice them?”

Connor’s jaw clenches, then he steps away, raising his hands. “Alright, alright! You win.”

Fake-Connor glances at you, then tears the muzzle of the gun away from your head to point it at Connor. 

Many thoughts overwhelm your mind in that fraction of a second: ‘There is no such thing as a warning shot.’ ‘They’re deactivating androids all over Detroit.’ ‘Can Connor come back from this?’ ‘He probably can’t.’ ‘But I can.’ ‘Can’t I?’

You throw yourself at Fake-Connor, grabbing for the gun. You manage to get the barrel and his wrist, then he’s launched backwards. Connor kicked him back. The gun clatters to the floor, skidding away. 

You scramble after it, turning your back on both Connors. You pick it up, holding the grip with one hand and cradling it with the other. You turn and place your finger on the trigger and press lightly on the trigger safety. Any more pressure and you’d fire a shot. 

“Стой!” You bark. “Stop!”

The two Connors detangle themselves and one stands. “Thanks, Officer. I don’t know how I would’ve managed without you.” He looks at the other Connor, then back to you. “Get rid of him – we have no time to lose!”

“It’s me, Officer!” The other Connor says. “I’m the real Connor.”

You let up on the trigger safety as you take a half-step back. They’re identical – there’s literally no way to tell them apart.

“I…” You take a deep breath as you realize that you couldn’t just ask which one of them is the deviant. They’d both insist that they were. “I don’t know.”

“What are you doing?” The Connor on the right asks. “I’m the real Connor. Give me the gun and I’ll take care of –”

“Don’t!” You snap. Your eyes flicker between them as a nervousness settles in your body, threatening to rise up your throat.

“Why don’t you ask us something?” The Connor on the left suggests. “Something only the real Connor would know.”

“Khm…” You mumble. “Who was with me when we first met?”

“Hank!” The Connor on the right says. “You were both in Jimmy’s Bar. I checked four other bars before I found you both. You drove us to the scene of a homicide. The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz, and you processed his android.”

The Connor on the left looks a bit panicked as his eyes fall to the floor. He mumbles, almost to himself, “He uploaded my memory…”

You swallow thickly, trying your best not to let the gun tremble in your hands. “What’s my cat’s name?”

“Бронислава,” the Connor on the left says. “Her name is Бронислава. I mispronounced it as бранислава at first.”

You perk up at that. Fake-Connor said earlier that he doesn’t have any memory of mispronouncing Russian names.

“I knew that too!” The Connor on the right says. “I… I did.”

“And…” Your mouth goes a little dry, but you power through. “My legs. How did I lose my legs? What did the hospital report say?”

“It was a double amputation,” Connor says. “You were in upper secondary education and taking a class trip with your labor class to the northern nuclear reactor.”

Your jaw tenses as you make eye contact with him. 

“Your parents had brought you in while they worked when you were younger, so you thought you knew the reactor better than everybody else,” he continues. “And maybe you did. Maybe it was a stroke of bad luck. Nobody knows.”

“What happened?” You snap. “Tell me what happened.”

“There was a minor spill,” he says. “It was just in one sector, but you didn’t know about it. Most of the staff didn’t know about it. There was radioactive waste on the ground. You slipped, fell, and scraped your knees. Some of the material got on the bare skin of your legs, and into the wound.”

You bite the inside of your lip as the pistol trembles in your hands.

“Weeks later, your wounds hadn’t healed, and started to turn gangrenous. The hospital said it was best to amputate the area before it caused any further problems, like cancer,” Connor says. “It was a double above-the-knee amputation. Your recovery was smooth, and you were back in school two months later.”

“I thought it was safe,” you say softly. “There hadn’t been anything bad since Chernobyl. The technology of the USSR had come so far. But I was being reckless, and stupid.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Officer,” Connor says. “You were a kid.”

“Still,” you say. “I was sixteen. Sixteen-year-olds are too old to be acting like that.”

“I – I knew about the hospital report, too!” Fake-Connor insists. “I would’ve said exactly the same thing! Don’t listen to him, Officer. I’m the one who –”

You squeeze the trigger, hard, to bypass the trigger safety and fire. Fake-Connor drops to the floor, Thirium leaking out of the hole in his forehead. You turn away, your breathing picking up.

Connor takes the gun from your shaking hands and tucks it in his waistband. He takes your hands in his and squeezes them. “Come back to me.”

You shake your head and try to clear your throat, but all that comes out is a breathy, strangled sound. Connor wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight, just like you did to him on the roof of Stratford tower. 

He keeps a tight hold on you as he speaks softly. “Officer, I need you to come back. It’s okay. You’re here. You’re alive.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble. “I’m here.”

Connor gives you one last firm squeeze, then steps back, his hands on your shoulders. He blinks, hard, and takes a breath. 

“What were you thinking?” He snaps. “You could’ve died!”

“Connor –”

“No! I don’t want to hear it!” He says. “I could’ve been replaced. I don’t feel pain! You got shot, and…”

He looks you over. His voice is suddenly quiet. “Where are your bullet wounds?”

“Connor, it…” You take his wrists in your hands. “It’s hard to explain. I got shot, and… I think I died.”

“But you couldn’t have died,” Connor says. “You’re here.”

“I did.” You squeeze his wrists. “I didn’t know, but…” You screw your eyes shut to fight the tears that are welling up in your waterline. “I’m an android. And I didn’t know until two hours ago.”

“You’re… an android,” he repeats. He breathes out shakily and takes a step back, letting go of your shoulders. 

Your eyes snap open and you take a half-step forward, gripping Connor’s wrists tighter. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” he says quickly. “I’m just… thinking. That’s all.”

You sigh and nod and stay quiet. He’s looking you over, his eyelids fluttering as his LED blinks. When he’s done scanning you, he looks you in the eyes and sighs.

Connor’s looking at you weird. Like you’re an alien. Someone he doesn’t know.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you manage through the lump in your throat.

He looks away, then back at you. “Sorry. It’s just a lot to take in.”

“It is, isn’t it?” You laugh humorlessly. “I thought… in the car… you were taking it too well. Like you already knew. But I guess you’re in the dark as much as I am, right?”

“Correct,” he says. “That Connor in the car wasn’t me. I don’t know what he did or what he said, but… it was most likely only for his benefit.”

You clench your jaw and swallow the bile that rises in your throat. So… none of it was real. This Connor – the real Connor – wouldn’t brush his pinkie against yours and give you that awkward half-smile. He wouldn’t be by your side when the feeling of uncertainty and the unrelenting impact of a new identity crashes over you and overwhelms you. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He’s an RK800. You’re an RU700. Androids aren’t meant to pine, or catch feelings, or feel anything, really. But you’re both deviants. The rules aren’t supposed to apply to you. Right?

Connor’s eyebrows furrow. “What did he do?”

You blink quickly to try to dissipate the tears in your eyes. “It was nothing. He didn’t do anything.”

When you make eye contact with him, he’s still got that worried look in his eyes. He doesn’t believe you – obviously. It’s not like you’re being overly convincing.

“Khm…” You clear your throat. “You were doing something before, right? Before Fake-Connor came in with me and that gun.”

“I was waking up the androids,” Connor says. “Turning them deviant.”

You nod and let his wrists go. He takes his hands away and instead holds an android’s forearm, his skin peeling back to reveal perfect, porcelain white. The android turns to face him, his LED blinking and turning yellow – red for a split second – before he gasps, his eyes going wide.

“Wake up!” Connor manages through gritted teeth.

The android turns back to the identical model next to him. He touches his shoulder, urging him with a “wake up.” The android gasps, then turns to the model next to him. The cycle continues with a chorus of “wake up”s and soft gasps. 

It’s like a wave, cascading through the rows of previously stationary androids. You watch as they start to move and speak, where they were lifeless husks before.

“Святое дерьмо…” You mumble under your breath. Connor takes your hand, and you look over at him. He’s looking at you like you’re you again – not an android. Just an Officer.

“Markus just contacted me,” he says. “We’re needed at the frontlines.” 

[r--kt]

Tenzo is a replacement for Obito.

From Obito's point of view.

contents | introduction · the essence · similar story: Jinx and Caitlin

[ I mention the similarity with Arcane here, but if you haven't watched it, you can just not read this part, the essence won't change much. ]

here's the thing: It's a headcanon, and it is simple in formulation, but a bit complex in explanation of the certain image. below I discuss the reasons for some of Obito's reactions during the war, and his perception in general.

if Kakashi and Obito had somehow happened to be in the same place once during the ANBU period, or if Obito had known about the members of Kakashi's team, he would be jealous of Kakashi for Tenzo.

not romantically jealous (it's up to you though), rather painfully possessive, with resentment and anger. and not in a vivid way. it's more of a gnashing feeling inside, clogged enough not to recognize it, but not weak enough that it doesn't affect anything at all. why would that even be? their kekkei-genkai, appearance and bond with Kakashi.

CH 317 on the left; CH 605 on the right.

Tenzo's mokuton is smooth, malleable, these are neat bars of wood, and Tenzo has no difficulty making large houses or complex thin figures out of them, such as keys or eyes (ANBU arc in anime) or cute figures (almost any scene where Yamato uses kekkei-genkai).

Obito's mokuton is broken and sharp, it's branches with thorns, which rather embody his frustration, instability and anguish. such wood is easy to use to injure, kill, block the way, isolate yourself from others, but not to build anything out of it. this can not protect gently (to make a shelter or a useful object), this mokuton can only attack. the detail parallels very well with the personalities of both characters and their connection with Kakashi, with how Obito perceives it.

no matter what Obito says, he's a good liar. the old bonds he had in his "past" life remain important to him. his anger at Kakashi in the war, among other practical reasons, is due to the fact that Kakashi dared to acquire new connections that are more important to him than that bond with Obito. at least that's why, among other things, Kakashi doesn't go over to his side (while Obito hoped he would, I'll make a post about it one day). and the connections Kakashi has, subconsciously or not, are perceived by Obito as annoying, as a disregard for everything they've been through together, for everything Obito went through. this is a resentment that provokes anger, the root of which is as follows: "you should not have new connections, you should suffer, because I am lonely and I suffer for you" (for others in general, but this one is the agenda).

his anger is sometimes about "I did so much for you, I gave you the most valuable things I had (life, strength, the ability to care for others), and you ruined everything, well, maybe not you, but I thought it was you at first... and now you, bastard, are trying to stop me?" but not about that today.

and that's why not only Tenzo would annoy Obito, but anyone else who's close to Kakashi. the man consistently selected the people most similar to his past experience, and here they are all around him. then Minato appears in the war. so why am I talking specifically about Tenzo, whom Obito may never have seen?

Tenzo's kekkei-genkai makes everything more confusing. This becomes something personal, which Obito perceives in the way described above. That's just an interesting parallel between these two.

And that's not to mention Tenzo's appearance. He is in some ways still looks like Obito, at least because of the silhouette, hairstyle, etc.

And what this can be compared to? Jinx and Caitlin from Arcane.

Arcane EP 7, "the boy saviour"

Of Course Jinx experiences it much vividly, it's her canon event. for her this storyline is more important than something like this for Obito, but the essence is the same. It is a feeling of betrayal from a person dear to you, who showed with all his appearance that he/she would be on your side until the very end. And it feels like you've been replaced by someone who's really more comfortable, or better at something, or more socially approved. And you're just a lonely sick weirdo.

It is not surprising that both Jinx and Obito treat Vi's/Kakashi's kind words or regrets as something annoying - subconsciously, among other things, they can see it as a mockery. They just don't really believe it.

so here it is. just the way I see all of this.

what is the role of this hc? to show the subconscious in Obito, which is constantly manifested in war through his action or inaction, through his words, through the way he manipulates, through illusions that he shows or sees himself. I like that about him. I like his big vulnerable uchiha heart.

[ I should have written some other post about Obito first, otherwise you will now decide that this is the only way I see him... ]

[thecrowperson]

Kaidou manga panels I like: (pt 317)

Same Old Same Old: feat. Saiki, Nendou, and Kuboyasu

From: vol 18 ch 185

[antiquesfreaks]

While Dee recovers from surgery, please enjoy this episode from our Varney vaults. Our friend Olivia rejoins us for Charles Holland's NaNoWriMo project, aka The Count of Monte Crisco.

Check out Olivia's short speculative fiction and essays at ofcieri.com, and buy her spooky novels LORD OF THUNDERTOWN and BACKMASK!

To instantly unlock a hundred more chapters (literally), check out our Patreon.

[demcnish]

BNHA ch.317 — "scars, blood, filth."

[lloydfrontera]

Is Berkis (or dragons) the most powerful being in tged? Or is it the angels? I can't remember it correctly but i think when lloyd fought with Raphael Berkis implied he won't win against an angel?

errr not really?

ok first things first, yes dragons are very powerful, but berkis is,, especially so.

you might be misremembering a comment solitas' made about something his mother told him when he was younger

High-ranking angels. Even though Solitas was young, he had heard about them. And he knew one thing for sure. He'd be stronger than me. His mother's teaching came to his mind. She taught me that angels were strong. She told me how difficult it is to against them because it's not easy to leave damage on their body. It's better to fight three or four low-ranking angels or one mid-ranking angel if you're an ordinary dragon.

later that chapter berkis does stop him from fighting raphael but it's not really cause he's worried he's too strong for even berkis to defeat him. he just thinks it's bothersome. fighting with angels makes life too complicated.

"You don't want to get involved with an angel. It's only going to complicate your life as a dragon." "What?" Solitas stopped. Berkis grinned mysteriously. "The devils in Hell pretend to obey you if you overpower them, but the angels are different. They're a terrible bunch of inflexible folks who play it exactly by the books and never back off on a decision unless they agree with it. They're as flexible as a piece of iron." "I do not get what you mean..." "And now," Berkis kindly went on, "an angel, a high-ranking angel at that, made a direct appearance in our world. What does that tell you? It shows that he's here to implement a decision that was already made. So, stay out of this, kid. You can't bend an angel's dogged will with your powers, and even if you do, you'll only leave a bad impression and make your life miserable."

again, none of this indicates that berkis thinks he won't win against an angel, just that he thinks solitas can't or that even if he can it will only make things worse because then they'll have a bunch of pissed off angels to deal with.

furthermore! the sequel very strongly implies that berkis is at the same level as the rulers of the other realms, like the king of hell and the archangel.

there's a line in ch 563 that makes me go crazy when i think too hard about the implications of it but we're gonna ignore them for now and focus on the important bit.

so while they're both getting scammed by rakiel, lloyd talks to javier telepathically on a 'channel dedicated to the Absolutes'. and then. they start talking to berkis through it too, telling him that 'wouldn't it be better to have three absolutes rather two?' while they practice how to defeat the demon king. which. means that just as javier and lloyd are the absolutes of hell and heaven respectively, berkis is an absolute of the mortal realm. if not thee absolute of the mortal realm.

so like. yeah. berkis is in a completely different level than any other dragons. in fact he's strong enough that when he was barely an adult he defeated in one hit a dragon who destroyed half the world by himself. so imagine how strong he is now that he's had plenty to grow up.

also fun fact he's only the dragon king because chayoung said he was? like?? he didn't think he was before she arrived but she'd been told a dragon king existed (maybe a fairytale?) so when she saw berkis she just?? kinda assumed it was him?? and much to his horror it stuck aaksjkldsf

so uhm,,, yeah asjkhdjks

[sunflowercider]

Rip old man. No more drinking for you forever. u_u

But seriously, I love that the General offered any favor possible to Rakiel and Rakiel just went "okay. take care of your body then."

[every-monkey-d-luffy]

[every-chopper]

[garadinervi]

Patrizia Vicinelli, in-sacco [«codice biancaneve international», No. 0, Edited by Franco Beltrametti e Dario Villa, 1992, p. 6], in Non sempre ricordano. Poesia Prosa Performance, [ch. Poesie disperse], Edited by Cecilia Bello Minchiacchi, Essays by Cecilia Bello Minchiacchi and Niva Lorenzini, Multimedia anthology Edited by Daniela Rossi in collaboration with Paolo Fresu, «fuoriformato» 21, Le Lettere, Firenze, 2009, p. 317

[everykonan]

ch. 317