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josefavomjaaga · 2 years ago

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“I’ve read elsewhere that Fouché and Josephine were initially friends/allies, so I’m wondering when and why exactly their relationship started to go south [...]”

I’ve read that, too, and I’ve wondered the same. I could imagine it was when Josephine started to invite all those émigrés to come back. Fouché clearly was on the “left” of the political spectrum during the Consulate, Josephine (and her family) on the right. (I’ve read that she always remained a royalist at heart, even as an empress 😁.) All those returning émigrés had a bone to pick with the revolutionaries of old, of which Fouché was a rather prominent one. So maybe there were no intrigues necessary at all? Though I guess Fouché and Murat felt in a similar way about those émigrés (Thiard once mentions something to that effect, I believe), so they may have been allies in trying to stem in the flow?

“I’d rather read more details about this kind of stuff than more tedious play-by-plays of the battles by military historians any day”.

I would like to second that. And to third and fourth, too 😋.

But actually I wanted to add some brief snippets from Austrian books that, as I mentioned above, seem to hint at unrest or even conspiracies against Napoleon within the army during the campaign of 1809, and that mention Eugène (who, just for context, still was on his march from Italy at the time of Aspern-Essling). These things may point in a similar direction as Hortense’s story:

From Carl-Wilhelm Böttiger: “Die Weltgeschichte in Biographien”, Volume 7, 1843

[…] Soon after this battle [Aspern-Essling] it was also when Napoleon sank into that wondrous 36-hour sleep at Kaiser-Ebersdorf, and some already had the idea of proclaiming Eugen as emperor and delivering Napoleon dead or alive to the English in Fiume. It is known that several officers were shot around that time on the Schmelz [then a parade and drill ground] near Schönbrunn.

Napoleon sleeping - or being in a coma - for almost 36, sometimes only 24, sometimes even 48 hours, after Aspern-Essling is an Austrian legend that seems to have been already well-established in 1843, guessing from the casual way it is mentioned above. The fun part is that in the published correspondance there happens to actually be a marked lacune after the battle of Aspern-Essling… Mysteries… 😁

Franz-Anton Lubojatzky: “Der letzte deutsche Kaiser und seine Zeitgenossen” from 1860 has a longer account of the same desperation in the French army after Aspern-Essling:

The victor of the century was overcome, under the curses of his own soldiers, who now recognised him as a mere mortal, fleeing in a barge across the Danube to his headquarters at Kaiser-Ebersdorf. The human nature in him imperiously demanded its rights, a thirty-hour sleep bound him, who had given the command not to wake him.

Crushed by the fate of being defeated, facing the prospect of becoming prisoners by a second such defeat like the one just experienced at Aspern and Essling, his grand officers held secret meetings, and the plan was put forward, if Napoleon perished or was captured, to place his stepson, Viceroy Eugene de Beauharnais, at the head of the army in order to conclude a general peace and to lead the army back to France.

Many an accursal against the helplessly sleeping emperor flew from the lips of these enraged men, who longed for the happiness of living in the bosom of tranquillity and their families and of peacefully enjoying the fruits of their efforts.

He also repeats the idea of handing over Napoleon to the Brits in Fiume, which makes me believe his account is based on the one above.

At the root of all this may be a particular productive and not necessarily reliable author named Joseph Freiherr von Hormayr, who had helped organize the Tyrolean uprising during the same war and from that time on engaged in publishing lots of propaganda writings. In a book »Lebensbilder aus dem Befreiungskriege« from 1841, he gives a rather confused account of the anti-Napoleon conspiracies (for example, he claims that when the French army chased the British troops of Sir John Moore to La Coruna, some men had agreed to capture Napoleon, “who in his impatience showed up every other moment among the sentries” and to deliver him to the Brits for money – a somewhat difficult plan, considering that Napoleon was miles away from that corps and preparing his departure for France at the time - so whoever showed up at the sentries clearly was an impostor 😋). He even lists some names of people involved: a colonel Meriage, from Andréossy’s entourage, and his confidant Guesniard, the latter among those shot on the Schmelz. The only name I could verify was colonel Jacques Joseph Oudet, who was said to have ties to the Philadelphes conspiracy and who was killed at Wagram - “certainly not by an Austrian bullet”, as Hormayr says.

Hello! I was wondering if you’ve ever come across anything regarding Eugène’s relationship with Fouché? I was just browsing Hortense’s memoirs and she off-handedly mentions that Fouché disliked Eugène. It’s the first time I’ve seen either mentioned in regard to the other so now I’m curious. Here’s the excerpt; the “attempt” in question was when Friedrich Staps tried to murder Napoleon in 1809:

“The generals and other officers, shocked that such an attempt should have been made and alarmed at the idea of what might have happened, had considered seriously the situation arising from the absence of any direct heir to the imperial throne. They debated who might have been chosen as the Emperor’s successor had the attempt succeeded, and unanimously voted for the Viceroy. Public opinion throughout France indorsed the verdict. Rumors of this reached the Emperor and displeased him. They revived all his ideas concerning a divorce and later caused him to say to me during one of our conversations: “It became a necessity; public opinion demanded it.” I believe also that Fouché, with his skill for intrigue and dislike for my brother, took advantage of the episode to bring the matter of a divorce again to the Emperor’s attention. He perhaps even mentioned that my mother and I were deliberately engaged in promoting Eugène’s popularity.”

Hi, and thank you for the Ask! 💖

Of the top of my head, I could not point my finger to any particular interaction between the two, neither negative nor positive. Once Eugène was in Milan, while Fouché stayed in Paris, there was barely a chance for them to be at odds with each other, at least directly. And before that, Eugène simply had not had a high enough rank (officially) to be of much importance.

That Eugène was not fond of Fouché, especially after Fouché had tried to talk Josephine into a divorce in 1807, that I will believe. Josephine wrote to Eugène in detail about it. When Fouché in 1813/4 went on his mission to Italy, he not only saw Murat but also Eugène, and in his memoirs he (or whoever wrote in his name) claims that only after Fouché had explained it to him did Eugène understand that his future, too, was in jeopardy should Napoleon fall (which, I believe, is somewhat contradicted by Eugène's own correspondence with Auguste and their constant worries about the future of their children).

And then, during the second Restauration, Fouché, on the run and kicked out of France, asked Eugène for protection and an asylum in Bavaria. Which Eugène politely but very firmly declined. And that's rather unusual, for him.

As to the events Hortense relates in her memoirs, being the malicious person that I am I always read that a little differently 😊:

First of all, I assume it to be blown somewhat out of proportion, with Hortense trying to give Eugène more importance than he truly had. Though, in fairness, there are Austrian sources that point in the same direction, so something may really have gone on in the army (Napoleon's main base of support!). That there was a huge portion of dissatisfied men and officers ever since the Polish campaign, that much at least seems to be clear (the "Roi Nicolas" affair in Portugal, with several high-ranking officers either conspiring with the enemy or at least revolting against Soult, happens almost at the same time). It's possible that they (or some of them) picked Eugène as a rallying figure, as somebody who might bring some calm and restraint for the future.

And secondly, I always understood this to mean that Josephine and Hortense of course really had intrigued on Eugène's behalf and tried to win public support for the idea of Eugène as Napoleon's successor. Fouché had reported to Napoleon about it - as was his job! -, Napoleon had not taken it well (as was to be expected), and now Fouché was an enemy of Eugène's in the eyes of Josephine and Hortense 😁. (Napoleon did react badly to all signs of Eugène gaining a reputation of his own at this time, there's also Eugène's panicked reaction about a book someone had written about his campaign and that he had not managed to seize in time before it reached Paris. And as to Hortense and Josephine pushing Eugène into the limelight, there is another incident during the Russian campaign, when an account of the Battle of Malojaroslavetz praising Eugène and the Army of Italy to the sky "accidentally" found its way into a French newspaper...)

So, from the little evidence we have, I'd argue Fouché was rather Josephine's enemy, and only in extension that of Eugène (Eugène being designated as Napoleon's successor would of course have resolved the question of a divorce forever). If he acted in opposition to Eugène, it surely was in accordance with Napoleon's plans (which may or may not have coincided with Fouché's own).

As usual, I wish I had a better answer. But I'll pay attention from now on, maybe I come across some more actual interaction between the two in the future. Thanks again for the Ask!

#napoleonic era #Austria 1809 #battle of aspern #Battle of Essling #Austrian conspiracy theories #philadelphes

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poemsforparker · 3 years ago

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Apocalypse - Druig × Reader

Masterlist | Song inspiration

(not my gif)

“Go and sneak us through the rivers Flood is rising up on your knees, oh please Come out and haunt me, I know you want me Come out and haunt me”

Druig was leading you through the woods with a grin in his face, both of you still in your Eternals suits. The only noise heard besides your steps in the fallen leafs and the river you two were currently trying to find. Sometimes he would look back at you as to make sure you were still there, even tho he was holding your hand all along

He looked like he still coudn’t believe you ran away with him when he decided to follow his own purpose with humans. A part of him knew you’d go with him if he asked you to. Another knew you were to fond of your family to do so. So, when he asked you, coming down the stairs in Tenochitilan with opened arms, he was actually not sure if you’d choose him over everyone else, but here you were, following him to god knows where without even asking.

When he got to the river, he turned to you with the most beautiful grin, looking at you like he was seeing the most precious thing in the whole world while holding both of your hands to help you balance your feet in the stones of the cold river. “Thank you for coming with me, really. I know how hard it was for you, you know, leaving them.” his smile is still there, but a little sadder in the mention of the other Eternals.

“It was indeed, my love, but for you, I’d do it again” you cup his face with your hands and give him an amorous kiss.

. . .

“You leapt from crumbling bridges Watching cityscapes turn to dust Filming helicopters crashing in the ocean From way above”

Couple centuries later, you sat at the verge of that same river, recalling affectionately about the day you got there with your lover. The memory made you smile widely, you now had your own village in that same spot, lived together peacefully away from the big civilisations and the agitation that the cities got with time.

You both had seen too much already, settling down like this seemed like a dream come true. After watching cityscapes burn to dust due to wars bursting everywhere, the peace you found at this part of earth sounded nearly impossible. Of course, Druig had his ways using his powers to make sure that peace remained, you knew it, but if that was the price to keep at least a parcel of this planet safe from being destroyed by the human greediness, so be it.

You feel someone approaching you from behind, not even bothering turning around to see who it was, you knew Druig like the back of your hands, even his steps were unmistakable to you. He takes a seat by your side, he knew you just as much as you knew him, if not better, so there was no need to read your mind to know exactly what was in your head.

“That day was good, wasn’t it my dear? Just the two of us here, we came to our new home, made love by the river” you can see his glance at you without needing to affectively look at him, he knew you still got embarrassed when he said that kind of stuff, to you it was ridiculous, but to him, it was adorable, he loved to see the blush in your cheeks.

“Oh, Druig” You hide your face in your hands, he nudges you provokingly

“What?” he fakes innocence “Want me to remind you of that day?” you blush even more

“Maybe another time.” you try to dodge the subject, revealing to him what was actually in your mind when you came to the river. “Do you evr miss them, Dru?” you ask in a genuine curiosity, you didn’t talk about that day much. Maybe wanting to avoid the emotions.

“I do.” he answers simply and comes closer to you, putting his arms around you and letting your head rest in his chest. All you could hear was his heart beat mixed with the sound of the river running down, it did recall you even more of that day. “Maybe I don’t miss them as much as you do, my dove, but I do.”

“Do you think we’ll see eachother again, like, before it’s time to get back to Olympia?”

“Who knows? We have literally all the time in the world, angel, a lot could happen.”

“Yeah.”

. . .

“Your lips, my lips, apocalypse”

You coudn’t believe the sight in front of you. After centuries, there they were. Sitting besides Druig at the table, his hands protectively on your waist, you heard as Sersi explained all about the emergence. It was a lot to take in. A life of lies. A fake purpose, a machine created to serve a God. That’s what you were in the end of the day.

Oddly enough, that made you even more thankful you had Druig by your side, you may not be exactly alive or whatever the fuck the story was but you had experienced love. About that fact you had no doubt, with every word that came out of Sersi any shadow of regret you might have had in the past was gone.

Second thoughts about your choices of life, all gone. You were sure you made your choice right following your own purpose, standing by the one you believe to be right and the one who you do anything for you as much as you would do anything for him.

You hold Druig’s hand tight squeezing it three times as your way to say I. Love.You. You were going to help your family, sure. Do your best to stop the emergence or die trying, but one thing you knew for sure now, if this was the end of everything, you regretted nothing.

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imalwaystiredzzz · 3 years ago

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C5: Sisyphus happy. Yan Zhongli x Reader

#genshin x reader

Warning: Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationships

< Sisyphus happy chapters >

Once, from a time long before records and memories were written on ink and paper, Morax walked upon vast lands rich in history, watered by tears of tragedy and love lost. He turns to an old woman who stood before her destroyed village, eyes downcast and hollow on bodies drowned by the war of an unrelenting sea and the mountain that does not bow.

Morax did not understand, maybe once when he had held a goddess’ body to his own, but to him that was one thing and this is another. This is love of a mortal that does not even know who the child that cried next door nor the man that walked past their door, this is to love a complete stranger and the love that Guizhong once had when she was still by his side.

“What must I do to learn the love of mortals?” He asks, voice devoid of emotion; genuine curiosity and the hope to understand beneath.

The old woman smiled, warm and full of wisdom as if her short years were thousands compared to the god. “To love mortals, one must sacrifice eternity and learn of the passing time. Of death and partings. The gods have forgotten that they may live long but even you have an end, it is the same thing that pains us yet we find delight in.”

He didn’t understand then, those words ring true and wise as Cloud Retainer’s advice to his ears on leading the people that he had now to care for. Even so, he still finds himself wondering, “What would Guizhong have done?”

In his heart, he knows that she would’ve understood and took a moment to explain; unlike the way time leaves nothing but confusion in its wake, only pondering and no straight answers?

Even as hundreds of years pass, when all that remains of that old woman is nothing but ashes on the soil and the land had been turned to marsh, the people traveling and settling in a mountain, and the war marching on to its bloody conclusion; Morax found that answer to be much like the dumbbell that he may never come to solve.

But once more, reminiscent of his unexamined love with the goddess had bloomed too late, fate had played him right into its hands.

Because the answer had come in the form of you- still a child, a bud in the nursery of glaze lilies under the morning sun. You and your small hands that gripped the end of his robes, with teary eyes that looked at the dying people and held these strangers hand in their last breath with as much intensity for a small comfort to let them know they did not die alone.

“Will the war end soon?” Your small voice asked him, even Mountain Shaper had not the stomach to look at a child’s plea for peace and spout lies.

“I am trying to end it, as fast as I can.”

“Then this is for you.” You reached into your pocket and gave him a dried glazed lily contained in glass, “thank you for trying though we cannot give much back.” You bow, as courtesy knowing that you had just talked to the very god that protected the lands you step on and ran back to the shack that housed the sick and injured, your parents much too busy to notice you had snuck out.

Blissfully unaware that the god of geo, gripping the gift in between his hands, amber eyes following your form and telling himself that humans have much to learn and yet they surprise him nonetheless, just like as his love used to tell him.

But even answers are confusing, much like a child who asks why is 1+1=2 and the process of it, he didn’t understand till he saw you once more. Not yet a lady but not quite the child that you used to be. Now you are the girl who provides healing, growing up to be a herbalist like your mother and no longer simply holding a basket of them for your father. Carefully, with your mortal hands you comfort the injured beyond salvation as the calamities of gods that hold much power rages on.

Surrounded by dying men of the war, miasma, curses and death lurking in the air, in his eyes you remained untouched. Unblemished, as if the air in your little bubble had been purified by innocence and unconditional love for the crowd of strangers, neither pitying them for death nor numb to their tragedy. Then for a second he thought he saw her - the glaze lilies and the goddess that he loved so much and he begins to wonder if she’s come back to him through you.

“I should thank you for treating the wounded.” He tells the man before him, the bags of herbs laying behind his form and a sigil in hand, “use this in times of need, when the people are crying and I am away, surely the adeptis are quick to answer and would not turn you away.”

“My lord, Rex Lapis, there is no need to thank us. Knowing that you protect the people is enough, we are just a family of healers who help the ones in need.” Your father was a grateful man, and he can see where you get your eyes, especially your kind heart who reaches out to those in need, not because he seeks power or his blessings.

“Even so, Liyue will remember your kindness but none more so than I, Rex Lapis.”

He does not know if you remember him nor what you did, only that when he dons a mortal face to take a walk in the calms before the storm, he finds himself wandering to your garden, mostly on cold nights where you would just sing to the lilies and watch them, with unfading enchantment, bloom.

In a distant memory of an old lover, he hears the same voice but now there stood you. Now a lady, barely a woman with your innocence and mischief.

And he knows that this is wrong, mortals are fleeting as the dust, that he can never grasp with his two hands. Wherever his heart is on anything, other than Liyue, it only ends in tragedy. And oh, how ironic of it all that if you really were his goddess that had found her way back to him, why this form? Why a mortal who is a flower that will wither compared to a mountain that does not crumble?

“It’s a beautiful song, pardon me for interrupting but may I know where you have learned it?”

“Only if you tell me what the god of earth is doing in a place like this, barely even concealed?” Playful, you smile at him playfully as if you knew all the time that he had spent staring from afar and he was not an immortal that could smite the very life out of those pretty eyes.

“The breeze carried your voice and I wondered where you had learned to entice it to your will.” He couldn’t really put a finger when it began, when your singing had lured him like a siren to the depth of the sea.

“You befriend the wind, unlike the earth, you do not command rather ask of it like a companion,” was your simple answer and he smiles like he has found something long lost. You drown him in your presence, but he is not breathless; rather he sighs filled with curiosity like a child who has more to learn from the world that he had been in for thousands of years.

You who had rekindled a reason for his actions, much like Guizhong. This love does not ruffle his heart out of his rib cage, the dust settles and it is as calm as you talking about herbs in this small patch of garden late at night and as calm as the things settle falling into place in his beloved city by the gentle waves of the sea.

“What happened to them after?” You ask your husband, the snow falls outside and you are oh so exhausted to the bone as if the cold had taken all your warmth. He smiles and brushes your cheeks that lost their flush and your skin cold as a corpse, his arms glows gold in the intricate cracks, and you know that this is a bedtime story - though not quite for the night but for the long winter.

The memory scratches at the back of your mind to be remembered, but a part of you warns that you wouldn’t like how it ends.

“According to the books, the lord of geo took his love to the heavens.” He finishes with a chuckle of the irony in it all, a kiss to your temple as your eyes drop, heavy and slumber dragging you to its clutches.

Then finally, Zhongli smiles to bid you goodnight.

He watches you sleep soundly. Sleep if humans can even call it that with the lack of breathing, as still as a corpse that had died peacefully in bed while he is left to wonder of a future that had things ended the way his winter story did.

War ensures losts. Victories demand sacrifices. And the price to pay was always his love.

Zhongli would like to believe that had you died of a natural cause: sickness, accident or of old age where he would have held your aging body, he could’ve had the strength to let you pass on.

Rex Lapis would have had your funeral handled by the esteemed WangSheng, and took your passing as another promise to meet on the other side.

But Morax knows, he could never really.

Never let you go, even after thousands of years and all that you know had returned to the soil. Even when the truths of history had been forgotten by the people and you are nothing but a distant whisper to this land, a footnote to his folklore.

Not even now, when every winter is a reminder of the way he held your cold body against his chest, “I worry about you.” You told him with a supposed to be parting smile, how pitiful must he be for a dying mortal that had not even lived half their life to worry about him.

“Why are you saying goodbye, my love? You aren’t supposed to say goodbye, not yet. It’s much too early,” He tells you with a broken laugh, the war is over like you had asked of him the first time. He is an archcon, the land is his to rule and care, and you are supposed to live many many peaceful years with him, but here you are the embers of war digs its claws in your frail body and had robbed you of life.

Why does the war take and take and take and he who fights only lose things that he keeps to heart?

He doesn’t relent, even if it means breaking the laws of nature itself.

Even when you wake in spring, and you look at him with those empty eyes and ask who he is. At Least you’re here, still there somewhere and it might take thousands of years and more, when the mountain has crumbled against time, one day he believes that you will wake again with love in your lips and warmth in your hands.

#yandere zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #geshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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awed-frog · 4 years ago

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What I find scary as fuck is how unwaveringly anti two state solution the loudest pro Palestine voices on the internet are. What do they think is going to happen to Israeli Jews under Palestinian rule? Do they think it's going to be any different than the rampant antisemitism faced by Jews in any other Middle Eastern country (which led to such a great influx of Middle Eastern Jewish refugees to Israel in the 1950s in the first place)? Or do they (rightfully) consider Israel an apartheid state but not Islamic states’ treatment of dhimmi under Sharia law?

I have much empathy for the Palestinian plight and I used to think antisemitism was only ever brought up as an excuse to deflect any criticism of Israel. But the more things escalate in Palestine, the more comfortable people become in being openly antisemitic and the more it dawns on me what Israelis mean when they say it's essential for a Jewish state to exist. Yes, Israel should absolutely be held accountable for its war crimes against Palestinians. But seeing liberals talk about Holocaust victims fleeing Europe, people who were open to negotiations with Arabs and a two state solution so they could make a home in the land of their ancestors as “colonizers” is just heartless

I have a lot of issues with current (American) left-wing activism, but its enthusiastic adoption of Noble Savage tropes and unquestioning parroting of radical Islamist points are probably at the top of my list. And while many people are just young, a lot of others should really know better.

As for the current situation, look - personally I don’t see the whole ‘colonizer’ mindset as useful at all. I think that, realistically, every nation state in the world got where it is by appropriating someone else’s land and massacring or assimilating minority communities. That’s how things work. And before nation states there were kingdoms, and before that villages and tribes and groups of wandering half-apes, and this is a thing that always happens: sooner or later, you’re going to want or need more land. Maybe yours got barren, or submerged by a flood, or invaded by someone else. Maybe your community grew too big. Or maybe you have a visionary or an asshole chief who’s all like, ‘If we had more pastures then we’d have a godzillion horses and no one would ever go hungry again’ - in a way, the why doesn’t even matter. The realpolitik here is that these things happen and have happened a lot over the last three centuries or so, which means the number one item on our list as democratic governments (term used loosely and optimistically) is always the same: making sure people are fed and making sure they know their voice counts so they don’t start to question why the country exists at all.

(It may sound cynical, but we often lose sight of the fact there’s a difference between ‘moral discussion about moral implications of moral choices’ and ‘practical decision we can bring to a negotiation table with enemies and opponents’. Sometimes you’re right but you need to compromise anyway, and that’s something else that’s never going to change.)

In the end, this is what 99.9% of people care about: if your kids are happy, if you have a house and a job, and if you feel yourself represented and part of the country you live in (and know you can peacefully demand meaningful change if you need to), you don’t give that many fucks about everything else. That’s why, on the whole, most separatist movements go nowhere: because while many people agree on a very basic human principle (“Things would be much better if everyone was like me and thought like me”), they’re not that keen to trade their stability and security for economic chaos or even civil war...for what? All nation states, in the end, are fictional creations, and deep down everyone understands it: when you’re leading a decently happy life, the colour of your passport doesn’t really matter all that much.

So the issue here is not even who’s right and who’s wrong. Of course it’s important to recognize even old crimes and tragedies: it’s definitely one of the steps towards healing and peace and (let’s be optimistic again) the reason why international courts exist, but the immediate priority is always keeping people safe. I mean if you had to make right all the border insanity that went down even in the 20th century, you wouldn’t have the time or resources to do anything else, and, more importantly, you would only create more hostility and conflict in the process. The issue is, a) let’s try not to make more mess in the future and mostly b) let’s make sure everyone is happy and feels heard where he is. If Israel had a system like, idk, Switzerland, with tons of shared wealth and a Parliament full of different voices and minority people getting federal subsidies to preserve their unique cultures and traditions, there would be zero violence. Like of course some people would still resent Israel is there in the first place, and others would resent Israel existing not as a Jewish state but as a nation with sizable Muslim and Christian minorities or whatever else, but it wouldn’t come to civil war because everyone would have too much to lose.

Unfortunately, in many cases it’s just too late to undo the initial damage. The best we can work towards is ensuring people are safe, can build good lives and are politically represented. The main problem we have now in many regions around the world - like the Middle East - is that lots of powerful people have zero interest not only in righting historical wrongs but also in ensuring literal human beings are not killed in the streets. And as long as their power is made stronger by chaos, hatred and violence, we’re not going to get anywhere.

#ask #news #potentially unpopular opinion

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aurora-the-kunoichi · 4 years ago

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The Forgotten - Chapter Five Punishment

Here is the fifth Installment

Full story here

Warning: Blood, gore, mild torture, mild smut

Aurora utilized those precious few moments she still had with Leo, running her hands over his face, arms and torso drinking in as much of him as possible, before they came for him. He looked so peaceful lying there, eyes closed, taking even unhurried breaths. Like so many times before when she’d wake before them memorizing every scar and scrute as they dreamed peacefully, another life time, so far away.

Leaning forward she took her final taste of his lips as the door opened to her room.

Aurora ordered Leonardo’s unconscious body returned to the location they had apprehended him. He couldn’t stay in the base, no matter how bad she wanted to keep him close. Though if and when Donnie returned, the genius would want access to his brothers. But she needed him out of there before he escaped and gave away their location to Bishop’s troops. Her first priority was to the people here, if their safe haven was compromised everything would be lost.

As they hoisted Leonardo onto the cart, Casey stepped in front of Aurora insisting the kunoichi didn’t accompany them. Her first reaction was to object but after a few moments she reluctantly agreed. At this moment she was too emotional, she could change her mind and go get him. So, she added not to be informed of the drop site.

She watched them prep him for transport; sound canceling headphones were put over his ears set to an annoying brand of music and his eyes covered with dark fabric. Before the hood was pulled over his green crown Aurora bent down cupping his cheeks to gather his warmth in her palms.

“You have an hour to get him there and get clear before the pressure points wear off. It usually takes a few hours on a human, but the mutagen helps him recover faster, his muscles don’t hold the pressure as long. Don’t stop; don’t engage any hostiles, especially his brothers if you encounter them. Get in and get out.”

They left with the leader a few minutes later and with a huff Aurora sat down on the edge of her bed. Her hands ran back into the messy sheets finding them still a little damp from their tryst. She suddenly had an insatiable need to smell him again. Crawling onto the mattress her face ran over the sheets taking in his scent that still lingered there. She had touched them all except for Michelangelo today. But she knew when Leo returned home and the youngest found he was the last to leave his scent on her Mikey would rectify that rather quickly.

Wrapping the blankets still thick with Leonardo’s scent around her, Aurora closed her eyes and found slumber quick to take its hold. Leo’s face flush with pleasure was the last thing she thought of before she fell asleep.

She slept for several uninterrupted hours cocooned in their memories and smell. It wasn’t until a soft tapping at her door that finally woke her from sleep. Her voice groggy and sleep laden allowed entrance into her room.

The heavy door opened slowly and April came into focus as her eyes adjusted to the hallway light from the doorway. In her hand was a plate and the wondrous smell of bacon filled the large space.

“Rise and shine sugar tits. Casey scored some bacon on his way home last night; I thought you’d enjoy some.”

“That big beautiful idiot, it’s about time he made himself useful.” Sitting up in her bed Aurora’s hands rose above her head to stretch out the sore muscles in her body. “God I think it’s been a year since I’ve had some.” Accepting the plate Aurora bit down on a still hot slab of pork. The salty goodness burst with flavor coating her tongue delightfully and Aurora’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. “Fuck, that’s delicious and you made it crispy just the way I like it. You do care….”

“Most days……”

“Bitch…” Aurora laughed slipping the rest of the piece in her mouth. “How long have I been out?”

“Ten hours, but you needed it. If it wasn’t for this pipin hot pig and a lead to follow I’d order you to stay in bed a few more. But alas duty calls, I need that fine ass up, showered and in the war room in 30 minutes.” April leaned down to Aurora and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

“Ok mother.”

“Don’t sass me little lady. You’re lucky I don’t ground you after last night’s debacle.”

“You would have done the same.”

“Touché, I’m just glad no one was killed. He could have easily cleaned house last night. I think if you weren’t here last night it would have been a completely different outcome.”

“I agree, sadly.”

April stopped at the door and turned back around to face her friend; her face held the seriousness of the situation but as their eyes met April’s lips curled just a little with mischief. “For…..reasons…..how was it?”

“Heartbreakingly good.”

“I’m glad but I’m sorry at the same time.”

“Thanks.”

The hot spray of the shower was usually a relief to Aurora, the warmth seeping into her tired muscles and washing away her daily tasks. But the thought of washing away the evidence of Leonardo’s visit was excruciating. What had transpired was dangerous, he had nearly killed her the last time they met, but she could see it in his eyes. He was a desperate man and she gambled with her life, it was stupid but she needed it as much as Leo did….maybe more. That piece he shared was just a taste of what she had been missing all these years. People would think it selfish and maybe it was but what miserable existence they had. All that they had given up, no promise of life with each mission, a little happiness was due every once in a while, no matter how short lived it was. For all she knew she would never see them again.

Finished with her shower Aurora pulled on fresh clothes and headed out to the war room anxious to hear about the new lead that was found.

The warmth of her was gone, but as he came to the scent remained strong and evident on his flesh. Taking a deep breath Leo tried to sooth the swimming headache throbbing in his skull. She really did know how to adjust the pressure points on their bodies taking in account of the shells on their backs. Curiouser and curiouser, each time they had an encounter with that woman……Aurora, things seemed to become more confusing yet more clear. If that was possible, someone was lying that he was certain but was his master or the woman who was driving him and his brothers insane? But right now he had bigger problems.

He had woken up where he had laid his trap. A carefully planned scheme he had worked on for months down the drain because of that woman. That infuriatingly beautiful woman, she really did have some sort of hold on him. Maybe there was truth her to lies, she said something was in him? What did she mean by that?

Stumbling to his feet Leo began his trek back to main headquarters and Leonardo was not looking forward to reporting his failure to Bishop. The man did not take failure well; his tolerance was paper thin but Leonardo rarely came back with bad news so there was hope…..perhaps. The rebel base was supposed to be overrun with his brothers and Bishop’s men by now. If he hadn’t been weak and sought out the blonde, his mission would have been successful. Her name even if not spoken out loud had a profound effect on the leader. Leo’s heart tightened and his insides spun with an unknown feeling. A feeling that took control of him as he searched for the vexing woman’s room in their base and claimed her in her ridiculously large bed. It could easy fit him and his brothers along with her……like it was meant for them all.

A sudden vision of Raphael, Mike, and him with another turtle wrapped around Aurora sent his head spinning and his chest constricting in unimaginable pain. It intensified as he focused on the fourth mutant turtle he had never seen before but somehow looked familiar. Purple was wrapped around his skull and he was taller than them all, for some reason he knew he was a genius. Brother? Another heart stopping shot of pain surged through his chest and Leo toppled onto his knees clutching at his harness as he struggled to breath.

What was that, a memory? Why did it hurt so much? Holding his labored breathing Leo closed his eyes and cleared his mind until the pain passed allowing him to stand and resume his return to base.

The moment he entered into their home base both Raphael and Michelangelo were on him.

“Where the fuck have you been? You were supposed to call us hours ago!”

Leonardo ignored his hothead brothers’ questions pushing past him to make his way towards their shared quarters. He was not in the mood, but Leo should have known Raphael was not one to be ignored. His brother’s large mitt encircled his arm and yanked him to a halt.

“Fuck you if you think you’re gonna pull the silent leader bullshit today. Despite your failure to inform us of the rebels base Mike and I were fuckin worried.” Raphael whipped his older brother around to look into his eyes. He wanted a fuckin explanation. “You were supposed to get ‘caught’ and taken to their base to escape then tell us where ya were so we could overtake them………” Raphael’s nostrils flared, and his line of questions halted abruptly. The grip on his brother’s arm intensified as his eyes dilated with realization.

Leo winced at the increasing pressure and tensed further feeling his youngest brother get closer scenting the air as well.

“Ya bro, what kept you?”

Raphael leaned in close almost pressing his beak to his brother’s plastron and took in a long pull of air. Then something unexpected happened, his hothead brother pulled away with is mouth open wide in a toothy grin and started to cackle. It was a deep sound that started in the depths of his chest. “You botched the mission for a piece of blondie?!” The barreling laughter began to rise. “This is fuckin rich! Mr. Self-control couldn’t keep it in his pants to finish the mission.”

Mikey hit Raph in the shoulder trying to pull him away from Leo, “Shut up Raph. If Bishop hears that he’ll….”

Refusing to give Raph the satisfaction of acknowledging his weakness for the woman Leo ripping his arm free and pushed past him but stopped in his tracks nearly running into his master.

Bishop though smaller than the three brothers stood with such confidence the mutants stepped back falling into line on instinct. The dark shades that sat upon his nose was adjusted and his suit jacket opened with a flick of his thumb and forefinger. “Is this true Leonardo? Did you fail in your mission over the blonde commander?”

The usually stoic leader’s head fell unable to look Bishop in the eye. “Master, I went to her chambers to subdue her. She is a formidable fighter, but I have a weakness for the woman that I cannot comprehend. I am drawn to her and she welcomes it. I lost myself in her and she took full advantage rendering me unconscious. I will not fail you again Master.”

A heavy sigh came from the man as he took his sunglasses from this nose ridge to clean them. “I am disappointed in you Leonardo. You, out of your brothers are the most disciplined and to let a mere woman take you from your mission makes me question your loyalty to me. Was I wrong to give you the highest command in my army?”

“No Bishop, you were not. I….”

Bishop cut him off moving past the leader to his younger brothers. “You see Leonardo, when you are the leader; you hold the lives of your men in your hands. The responsibility of the mission, of your success rests on those large shoulders of yours.” Bishop moved around Michelangelo to Raphael. “You see, I chose you. Because I knew you could handle the pressure, but I am aware you are still human….so to speak. You are not without your flaws, but you see, there has to be consequences to your actions.”

Leonardo did not like the way Bishop was circling his brothers eyeing them like they were prey, “Yes, I am fully prepared to receive my punishment Master.”

“And receive you shall.” Bishop’s hand reached for the top of Raphael’s shoulder and pulled. “On your knees Raphael. You and your brother are going to help me show your leader what happens when he disappoints me.”

Honeyed eyes met blue, weary of what was happening, but Raphael swallowed the rising lump in his throat obeying his superior sinking slowly to his knees. “Master Bishop, Leo isn’t the only one distracted by her. Mike and I…..” The man’s hand squeezed painfully into the muscle of his shoulder making the brute wince.

“Quiet Raphael, know your place.” His hands moved to his glasses and pulled them free of his face and folded them carefully placing them into his jacket pocket. “Your team is small, so the effects of your decisions affect them more, but you ultimately suffer the most.” Bishop leaned down wrapping his long fingers around the hilt of Raphael’s long blade strapped to his side. Slowly he removed the blade from its sheath and rested the business end against the scales of his red banded brother’s arm.

Leo’s brother instincts kicked in and moved forward to protect his brother. He wanted to reach for his katanas, Bishop was their Master, their commander, their savoir but right now he was threatening the only two people he loved on this miserable planet.

“Unless you wish for their punishment to be far worse, I suggest you stay where you are Leonardo. And if your brothers do not wish for this to happen to you, I hope they do the same. You need to be taught a lesson Leo; no deed goes unpunished.”

Movement halted but his senses were still on high alert. Leo’s hands clenched into tight fists and his eyes locked with Raph as his green scales gave way to the sharp metal of his own blade. The tip sunk into the dense tissue and began its decent down the deltoid drawing a steady river of crimson in its wake. “Please, not my brothers, I’ll take this, it’s for me and my failings not theirs. They weren’t even there!” Leo voice had risen in pitch watching Raphael groan in agony but stayed where he was told.

“That would be too easy, you are self-sacrificing Leonardo so taking this pain, this punishment would not heed the lesson. But if you witnessed your loved ones suffer this, it would be engrained in your memory a constant reminder not to fail me again.”

“I’m fine fearless, I can take it.” Raphael tried his best not to make a sound while the blade began to carve through the thick muscle of his bicep. His nostrils flared trying to regulate his breathing. Something he was taught..by….not Bishop…..but by who? His mind began to scream at him adding to the excruciating pain radiating through his arm. Raph closed his eyes taking in heavy uneven breaths and a hoard of rats swarmed his vision.

Bishop paid no attention to Raphael keeping his sight solely on the panicking leader. “You did this, you did this to him. You three are beasts, unworthy of love. You actually think that woman truly cares for you….FOR ANY OF YOU! She is a kunoichi, a deceitful vile whore trying to wear you down, gain your trust so she can find me to kill me.” The blade pulled from Raphael’s flesh with a sickening sound and Bishop thrust the tip into the exposed side of Raphael’s body between his plastron and shell. Almost instantly he began to drag the blade down opening up a large weeping gash in Raphael’s’ side.

This time Raphael gasped in pain letting out a breathless growl, “F..uh….uck.”

“You are nothing without me, I am all you have. If it wasn’t for me you would have been put down in the labs I found you in! I spared your lives, ME! I gave you purpose! The rebels only want information from you nothing more. You are freaks; monsters and they will kill you the first chance they get.”

Gritting his teeth watching his brother in pain Leo kept the fact the rebels had done no such thing. The only thing they threatened was to take him to R&D and remove what was ‘inside of him’. None of them had looked scared or even disgusted by his appearance.

Blood was now pooling at the brute’s feet slipping down his green flesh like a waterfall.

“That’s enough!” Leo couldn’t take it anymore. The look on Raph’s face was cutting into his soul squeezing his heart to the point of him unable to pull in a full breath.

Bishop’s eyes darkened at the challenge put after a few never ending moments he pulled the knife free turning to Michelangelo to continue his ‘lesson’.

Not to be outdone by Raph, Mikey held his ground ready to take his part in all of this. Planting his feet the youngest stood tall but soon found the solid walls of his brothers in front of him an impenetrable force keeping Bishop and his punishment far from their little brother.

Leo growled at Bishop holding the bloody knife that was just inside his brother’s side a few moments ago. “I said that is enough. You’re point was well taken.”

It took their master a few agonizing moments to come up with a decision whether to punish them further or concede. He took a fresh cloth from his breast pocket and wiped the crimson from the knife and held it back out to its owner for retrieval. “Very well, but next time Michelangelo will get it much worse than Raphael did…..much worse. I tire of these games the resistance plays. I want this over with. I want that base found and those three commanders caught and executed. They have caused us too much trouble. They need to be made an example.” Bishop watched Leo’s eyes darken with defiance further but remained where he was. “Do we have a problem with those orders Leonardo?”

Raphael and Michelangelo watched their brothers hands tense at his sides and his back straighten. “No.” Leo ground out darkly. “I will personally make sure those orders are carried out.”

“Good, I will not tolerate failure again.” And with that Bishop left leaving the three brothers alone.

After the hallway was clear Raphael finally stumbled into Leonardo’s arms. Mikey quickly came up to the other side of his brother helping Leo brace his immense weight. “Fuck Leo, I hope it was worth it.”

Leo adjusted his brothers’ weight and pressed his palm into the weeping gash doing his best to slow the flow. “It was…enlightening, and don’t throw stones Raphael. You know full well if you were given the chance you would have took part in her body without hesitation. Now let’s get out of the hallway and to our quarters. We need to tend to your wounds.”

Without any word of protest all three made their way to their shared room. When they had been brought to this facility after Bishop and his men had freed them from a secret lab doing tests on animals, they were each offered up their own rooms. Something deep inside them found the thought unpleasant and asked to be housed together. They had even moved their beds together finding comfort in each other’s warmth. Like they had been sleeping close years prior.

Carefully they set Raphael down on a chair in their living quarters and Mikey began to address his wounds. Leo brought over their med kit and pulled out the tools Mike would need and left to fetch something to flush the gash with to clean and disinfect it.

Returning to his brother’s Leo handed Mikey the supplies and assisted with keeping Raph’s steady for treatment.

Raphael finally broke the silence eyeing Leo suspiciously. “You really gonna kill her?”

The war room was empty except for Casey who was sitting on the edge of large table in the middle of the room. His booted feet swung slightly as the dark haired man cleaned out from beneath his nails still unaware of her presence.

“April would be fuckin pissed if she saw you doing that in here.”

Casey yelped dropping the small knife from his fingers to grab his shuttering chest. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna give me a heart attack! I need to get a bell on you!”

Aurora giggled hearing him whisper ‘fuckin ninja’s’ under his breath as he slipped from his perch to grab his lost blade. She moved into the room and took his spot crossing one leg over the other. “Then I wouldn’t be effective now would I?”Her fingers reached down to her knee high boots and straightened the seam to lean back to watch her friend. “She said you had something for me, and by the lack of backup I can assume it’s not for everyone’s ears.”

Flipping his knife closed Casey shoved it back into his pocket. He turned away from Aurora, took a few steps to the white board and stopped. She watched his shoulders lift with a few deep breaths and he turned around with a very sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“I did somethin’ stupid..”

“This isn’t something new Case, I love ya kid but you’re as unpredictable and careless as Raph. That’s why you two were best fuckin pals. Why don’t you tell me what you did and we’ll go from there?”

Casey moved quick until he was just in front her and his palms were on her knees squeezing with enthusiasm. His eyes were now ablaze with excitement and he licked his lips. “I followed him….well to a certain extent.”

There was only one person he could have followed, but the moron wouldn’t have been that stupid? Right? April would have skinned him alive. “Who did you follow?” her voice was a whisper hoping she was wrong but her intuition knew better.

“Leo, I followed him for about a half an hour, hoping I could at least get a general direction of Bishop’s base.”

“Casey!”

His hands came up resting on her shoulders, “Wait, wait, …hear me out. He was still groggy when he woke up, stumbling, holding his head. So I figured I’d watch him as he went. I know him; known him for half my life so I know when he’s out of sorts and when he’s not. I followed him until he wasn’t walking funny and he quit holding his left shoulder. When I noticed he was more aware of his surroundings I backed off. At least I had a direction, we needed something Aurora, I took the opportunity. We need to find that base.”

Aurora pushed him away and jumped from the table. She began to pace, “You idiot….I….I know what you did was for the cause and I appreciate it. But Casey he’s the best, you were so fucking lucky he didn’t know you were following him. He could have captured you, tortured you.”

“Hey, I ain’t weak, I’d never give up the base…..ever.”

“I know Case, but the end result would still be your death.” Aurora turned back to face Casey and he looked a little hurt. “I’m sorry, I know you were doing what was needed. I just……I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost you….April…..” she could feel the tears brim and settle into the corner of her eyes. “You two are the… last….my family.”

“I know I know, April was pissed too but I had too. This was too good of an opportunity to let it pass by. It’s been nearly 10 years of this god damn war and we’re losing and I know you know this. Each day we lose more and more people to Bishop’s hold. So any edge, anything at all was worth the risk.”

Wiping a stray tear free Aurora let out a long sigh and gathered Casey into an embrace.

Then a new voice broke them from their moment, “He’s an idiot but…he did good.”

Both Aurora and Casey looked up to see April standing in the door way.

“He spent all night trying to narrow it down. He thinks he might know where they are. But we need to make sure before we go in. Casey is good but inconspicuous he is not. We need someone to go in and confirm the location. Someone quiet, someone who can slip in and slip out without being noticed. Avoid detection, which means recon only, you hear me?”

Aurora slapped her hands over Casey’s cheeks and pressed them together, “Where should this ninja go for said mission?” she pressed closer giving Casey fish lips which he worked playfully.

“Rockefeller State Park Reserve.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The evening air had cooled enough to ease the uncomfortable thickness in the air; if it wasn’t for the task at hand it might have been a good night to watch the stars. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky leaving the stars glittering like diamonds.

Aurora had ditched her bike a mile before she had entered the reserve and continued on foot. Keeping mostly to the trees she moved soundlessly searching the acreage for any sign that Bishop’s base was close.

They had never thought to search state parks, thinking the madman would find it too difficult to build his compound in the middle of nowhere. But he was a stubborn man and if anyone could make it work Bishop would find away if it kept him hidden from prying eyes of his enemies.

It took hours to search, but what a peaceful evening it was. The frogs and bugs were creating a wonderful symphony that echoed throughout the forest floor. Even a few lightening bugs were out flashing across the long grass trying to find a mate.

As she moved through the forest it began to get thicker, the foliage getting denser and then something caught her eye. The moonlight caught the refection of something and Aurora moved back into the shadows pulling out her binoculars.

Zooming in she saw something that didn’t belong in a park reserve, a motion sensor.

“Now we’re onto something….” Climbing higher she disappeared into the foliage concealing her presence further and moved forward her senses now on high alert. As she got closer more sensors popped up with the addition of cameras. Soon men with guns began to come into play and that’s when Aurora knew she was on the right track.

“Good boy Casey, good boy.”

Then she saw it, a large compound hidden in the park surrounded by a large fence littered with armed men swarming the grounds. “Oh goodie.” She mused watching a guard cross below her unawares of the danger looming above them. “Fresh meat.”

With no sound made Aurora dropped down on her prey finding luck was on her side catching a female guard and rendered her neutralized. She stripped the woman of her clothes and ID badge and quickly hoisted the woman into the tree to conceal her work. Pulling on her clothes assuming her identity Aurora pulled the brimmed cap down and made her way to her next task.

The shadows concealed her perfectly as she scaled the fence with ease. She waited for the flood lights to move past before she dropped down into the inner grounds of the base. A passing truck served as a shield bringing to a side door and with her stolen ID badge she was allowed entrance.

Keeping her head down she disappeared into the crowd following them into what looked like a mess hall. There were many tables filled to the brim with brain washed New Yorkers. All oblivious to their predicament following orders of a man they once fought against. She needed to keep moving, she needed to make sure this was the place, she needed a visual, she needed to see Bishop, or one of them. They would be in the same facility as Bishop; he would want to keep them close.

Moving away from the loud space Aurora made her way down another hall searching for her target, keeping an eye out for those god damn sun glasses and that well tailored suit, pompous asshole. Soldiers, doctors, and what looked like civilian men and woman littered the halls. Waves and waves of people came, this was a busy place, very important no doubt.

She needed to be quick though, the longer she was there the more chances there was to be seen, exposed, and even captured. Then green, large striking green and orange came from the distance. The youngest came striding down the hall, an unpleasant frown plastered over his face, jackpot, she had found it.

As the crowd parted for the determined terrapin like the red sea Aurora’ saw his massive mitts covered in blood. Whose blood was that? He looked very upset and stressed. Her happy ray of sunshine looked so angry and she fucking hated it. Wanted to run up to him and kiss him, make him smile she even had to refrain from calling out to him. It hurt to hold it in, hold in his name. It turned bitter on her tongue and it swirled around the remaining saliva on her palette to wash the anger from her mouth.

Then she watched his stride hesitate. He slowed and his nostrils flared as he neared her position. His dull blue eyes widened, brightened, his current mood momentarily forgotten he began to search the crowd frantically.

Jesus fucking Christ those god damn mutant noses, he had smelt her! A flawless entry and she was compromised by their over achieving mutant senses.

“God damnit.”

She had to think quickly, she needed to disappear before he followed that god damn nose like a fucking blood hound.

As luck would have it a man wearing an ungodly amount of cologne walked up next to her. She reacted quickly and shimmied up to him batting her violet eyes and smiled.

“Helloo.” Her hand reached for his chest adjusting his name tag so she could read it. “Mattson…I’m new here and you look like a man who knows where things are.” Her hands ran over his chest to his shoulders keeping her proximity close to keep him interested. “Would you be willing to show me where the mess hall is. I’m starving.” Her hands ran down his arms trying to get as much of the reeking scent of his over compensation all over her hands. Anything to mask her natural scent, to throw Mikey off her trail.

The man looked Aurora over and his smiled widened enjoying the intimate contact. “Sure thing sweetie, I can show you whatever you want.” His arm snaked around her low back and he pulled her closer.

As she pulled him away from Mikey’s last know location, down a different corridor both of them were grabbed.

“I heard this one needed a tour, I’d be more than happy to show you around blondie. I can get you into far more places than he can.” Mikey was leaning down practically lapping at her ear. Fuck, fuck, fuck…..

“Oh I’m sure he can show me around, it’s ok I don’t wanna bother you, you look important.”

“Oh no, no bother at all and I insist. I’ll take it from here Mattson.”

The man looked terrified as he pried himself away from the two and high tailed it down the hall leaving Aurora in Mikey’s clutches.

“Not smart.” Mikey growled nuzzling into the back of her hair while pushing her towards a door.

She didn’t struggle; Michelangelo wasn’t drawing attention to her to out her presence so she didn’t either. His beak was pressed into her hair taking in deep breaths, his grip was secure but not too tight, she would easily be able to break free but something told her to follow his lead.

Allowing him to usher then into what looked like an unused office, she turned when Mike pushed her into the room and quickly locked the door behind them.

There he stood, full height; the shortest of his three brothers but Mikey still had an impressive stature. Just as bulky as Raphael but not as tall. The dullness in his eyes was gone, vibrant baby blue hues swirled in his irises as he took her in, up and down. He gawked hungrily, mouth open in a wicked smile.

“M-mike.” She whined suddenly finding it difficult to breath. That fucking look was devouring her whole. “Say something…do something.”

He moved quicker then she had remembered him able and found herself pressed up against the wall with a brutal shove. The back of her head clacked with the dry wall pushing a huff from between her lips which was quickly silenced by his mouth. Mikey slanted his lips over hers plunging his board tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth still hung open from shock.

The thought was to fight back, to push him away but that god damn mouth of his, that tongue swept away any and all resistance that remained in her head. God he was good and tasted even better, pure bliss.

He must have felt her melt into him because the deep rumble that emanated from his chest vibrated into her chest as his reached down to grab hand fulls of her ass. Her hands moved around his thick shoulders grasping wildly at his bald dome, more, More, MORE!

Mikey’s mouth separated from hers with a wet pop and descended down her throat nipping and sucking at the flesh growling and groaning like a wild beast.

“Mikey….” Her words breathless as his hands cupped her backside squeezed at the plump flesh in his palms spreading her cheeks.

“Again.” He mewled against her throat cooling the saliva spread across her flesh.

She obliged willingly giving him his full name, “Michelangelo.”

“Unngghh fuck yesssss…..” He lunged forward and his teeth sunk into her neck as he began to grind his titanium hard cock along her clothed core.

“God Mike I miss you.”

“Do you?” his breathing was labored as he tried to keep his cool but was failing miserably. He rocked his hips again mesmerized by the friction.

“Every day, since he took you and your brothers from me.”

One hand relinquished its hold from her ass and his finger drug along her hip lining the top of her pants before slipping below. He smiled against her throat finding no underwear beneath. It gave him better access as his thick digit parted the swollen folds sinking into the accommodating heat it sought.

“Did you enjoy Leo last night?” he husked sinking his finger deep hooking it to gain a gasp from his prey.

Aurora arched into his hand clawing at his shoulders as he hit the section of nerves at the top of her snapping cunt. “Mikey!”

Mikey pressed the spot again leaning into her ear as his voice dropped an octave. “Did you?”

“Yesss, I did. It had been so long, it hurt a little. I miss taking you too Mike, Raph too. I miss your tongue, your laugh, your cooking….arghhh…ahh…..fuck!” true to form Michelangelo was the best with his hands. The talented little shit always knew how to bring her to a shuttering climax the quickest compared to his brothers and just with his fingers. And today was no exception; she could feel it rushing through her blood, lighting up her central nervous system setting her ablaze with need.

He worked that finger inside her swirling the pad of his finger over and over making sweet grunting moans in her ear. His sounds always got her going, bringing her closer to her peak quicker.

“Can you cum for me?”

Just then his thumb gathered the moister from her core and circled with the right amount pressure against the soft pearl at the hood of her sex and Aurora gave way. If it wasn’t for his hold on her Aurora would have collapsed as she toppled over into her climax. Her body clenched around his finger gaining a groan from the youngest.

“That’s it, cum for me. Good girl.”

She began to shake as he helped prolong her climax repeating the stimulating motion rocking his finger in and out of her. Then he pulled her ear lobe into his mouth and sucked gently as he slowed his motions allowing her to finally come down.

As the last of her climax subsided Michelangelo pulled his drenched fingers from her body and brought them to his mouth. Keeping eye contact the terrapin slipped them into his mouth and sucked them clean. His eyes closed as he savored the taste swirling his tongue to get the last trace of her essence. “Even better than I had imagined.” Slowly he moved forward brushing his lips against the shell of her ear and whispered. “I have a birthmark.”

A test, but she knew what he was talking about, so intuitive, smart. She tried to calm her breathing, Mikey was intense when he wanted. “Your left ass cheek, I always told you it looked like a slice of watermelon. I always enjoyed chewing on it when you laid on your stomach after a shower. That ass makes the perfect set of bongo drums. ”

He stopped moving and pulled back, his eyes were wide with surprise and Mikey let out a long breath. “I want to remember, I really do. But you need to get going though; he can’t know you’ve been here. Please hurry, he’s ordered Leo to kill you.” @imthegreenfairy88 @tmntspidergirl @ravn-87 @alonia143 @blossom-skies

#tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michaelangelo #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fandom #tmnt fic #TMNT TMNT fanfiction #the forgotten #chapter five #punishment

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thecagedsong · 3 years ago

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Forgotten Light: Chapter 10: Departure

A/N: Hey, going to be a little iffy on the posting schedule. Taking a huge test in 12 days and I have to study all day every day. Take this one though, one of my favorite chapters. I do wonder if the story would be better if I didn’t have so much of the plan laid out beforehand.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11

Chapter 10: Departure

Everyone was sweating as Agad, the last of their group, reached the High Judgement Pavilion. Only Patton was missing, already on his way to scope out the dragon temple. While they didn’t tell Seth directly, Patton was probably going to use their infuriatingly peaceful flight as a distraction for when he entered.

Seth had spent the afternoon getting everything ready. Whispering to people to pack up and where to go, modifying the treaty to let their mounts out, trying to collect items. Tess had found him and spelled out the names of the demons in Kendra’s journal, and it was only when she spelled out “Tailizar” that he connected that name with demon that had confronted him in the dreamscape. Agad had promised to see if he could locate any of these demons, and Seth stuck their names with Patton’s list of ways to reach the Phantom Isle. He really needed an adventure log. He let Tess keep the journal of secrets, since no one else was going to use it.

“All right,” Seth said, rubbing his hands together. “I see everyone has brought their suitcases, like I said. You’re probably wondering what is going on, and the answer is that all humans and Satyrs are leaving Wyrmroost right now. I’m going to give being caretaker back to Marat, Agad will do what he wants, but the rest of us are heading out.”

Everyone started asking questions at once, but they weren’t letting Seth answer them. Every time he tried to start, someone else would jump in with a point.

Marat struck his staff on the ground, demanding silence. He nodded back at Seth.

“Right, I’ve thought this through and talked it over with Agad and Marat. We’re expecting an attack tonight, and the biggest weakness is the barrel, so we’ll be taking that with us. There’s a spy in the keep I’m going to have to leave Marat to deal with, but to be honest, he’ll probably be able to handle them a lot better than I could.

“We did what we were brought here to do: kept Wyrmroost from falling, strengthened the treaty barriers, and we saved a couple of castles and insulted the dragon king while we were at it. There’s no reason for me to be here, or any of you, and as cool as it has been being the caretaker, I have a couple of leads on finding Kendra, and that’s more important.”

Grandma asked, “How will you get Celebrant to agree to the change in leadership?”

Seth grinned, “Celebrant doesn’t have to. He’s no longer caretaker, revoked by our local dragon slayer. He’ll be angry, I’m counting on it, but no magic says he can tell us to do anything. We’re skipping the Fair Folk bit again, but they already confirmed Marat once, and what are they going to do, write a slightly angry letter?”

“And how do you expect to leave peacefully?” Grandpa asked, arms folded.

“The flying mounts,” Tanu answered before Seth could.

“Yep,” Seth said. “It may have skipped your notice, but we acquired some new wings for our friends. We fly down to the nearest town with a car rental, and we can be back in Fablehaven by tomorrow. To make things easier on our friends, we won’t have them fly us the whole way. And we’ll have some nice stables waiting for them at Fablehaven when they arrive.”

“And the Dragons?” Newel asked. “I still haven’t heard how we’re getting around them if they decide it isn’t poor taste to eat poultry and red meat in the same meal.”

Doren slapped a hand to his head, “Of course, the Cloak of Innocence.”

“I would normally be loathe to test the cloak against multiple dragons,” Agad said, “As they are undoubtably watching us, but it is a short trip, the numbers within the cloak’s ability, even with the mounts. The cloak has also proven effective against dragon fear, ensuring you retain the ability to stay seated.”

“Oh, and we’re taking the barrel with us,” Seth said, not remembering if he had already mentioned it, “Marat, did we get anything for that?”

Marat waved a golden feather, “This will significantly lighten the barrel, making it possible to carry if secured correctly.”

“Cool, any other questions?” Seth said, “We’ve been keeping this underwraps, hoping to be able to walk right out of here. Celebrant isn’t going to expect us to just leave, certainly not in broad daylight, which makes this the perfect time.”

“Wait, does this mean we’re going to be riding horses?” Newel asked, absolutely affronted.

“Actually, it’s not so bad,” Doren admitted quietly. “I had to, in order to stay with the littles. Felt a little off, but it won’t kill ya.”

“Look, I would really like you guys with me,” Seth said, “But if you’d rather stay here…”

Newel huffed, “Now I don’t appreciate being strong armed, I’ll go, but it’s unnatural is all.”

“So Marat, how do I do this?” Seth asked, and the dragon avatar stepped forward.

“First you’re going to have to denounce Kendra as a caretaker. You were appointed together as one, and you are both required to make decisions regarding the mantle. Kendra has been gone for long enough, that you can officially declare her as having abandoned the post, and accept all the responsibilities as sole caretaker. Hold the staff, hold the amulet, and repeat after me.”

Seth accepted the staff and repeated what Marat told him to. If Kendra had her memory, she would be so mad over what he was accusing her of: abandoning responsibilities, disregard for the treaty, and in her absence, he accepted sole power and responsibility for the preserve.

There was a glow from both the medallion and the tip of the staff. When it settled down, Agad stepped forward.

“Seth, remove the medallion from around your neck,” he instructed. He did so. “And repeat after me.”

Seth recited the same oath that Marat had asked him to take a little over a week ago.

“Do you, Marat nee Camarat, vow to protect the outside world from the living beings at Wyrmroost, and to shelter the living beings at Wyrmroost from any outside threats?”

“Yes,” Marat said, his head bowed.

“Then as the current caretaker of Wyrmroost and as master of Blackwell Keep, of my own free will, I hereby confer my stewardship over Wyrmroost to Marat nee Camarat, including all rights pertaining to a designated and official caretaker of this sanctuary together with all privileges available to the master of Blackwell Keep.”

Seth placed the medallion over Marat’s head, and they shook hands.

Agad let out a breath, “It is done. You have done this war a great service, Seth Sorenson.”

“Hey, maybe this isn’t goodbye forever to Wyrmroost,” Seth said, smiling, “It’s been fun, feel free to call on my services again after we get Kendra back.”

“We will try to let you grow up first,” Agad said. He walked to the side of the pavilion, it was fairly large, and waved a hand towards the stables.

A minute later, those who hadn’t yet seen the mounts were appreciating them. Tess looked like she had gone to heaven.

“I get to ride one?” Tess asked, bouncing.

“You’re going to be with your brother,” Agad said, smiling at her. “His steed is the majestic flying camel, Bagak.” Tess squealed and ran up the camel, talking a million miles a minute.

“Do I have to ride with her?” Knox complained.

“Bagak is the most secure,” Agad said, “We don’t have saddles that accommodate wings. Make no mistake, Tess is possibly the most important member of this party. Without her, everyone fails.”

Seth, meanwhile, was making introductions, “Grandma, this is Glory. She’s Kendra’s mount, and one of the mute luvians. Glory, would you be willing to take my grandma out of the preserve and to the outskirts of the city?”

Glory neighed and stomped once for yes.

“You are quite beautiful,” Grandma admired offering her hand and waiting for affirmation to stroke, “And Kendra picked you because you like Jane Austen, right?”

“Captain!” Seth called, pulling Grandpa behind him. “Patton’s gone, he was only a stingbulb, but I’m hoping you’d be willing to take my Grandpa?”

“I remember Patton was only temporary,” Captain said, “as a group, we have decided to stick together and give your goals what aide we can. I would be honored to carry your esteemed elder.”

“The honor would be mine,” Grandpa said bowing.

Seth found the dark gray stallion, and asked quietly, “Rodolfo, are you sure you’re okay leaving Lomo behind? I’d understand if you wanted to stay by him. He’s the only one you agreed to carry.”

“I heard you with Captain, and I stand by that. Lomo also encouraged me to stay with your group. Frustrated by his own race’s neutrality, he encouraged me to assist you in what I can,” Rodolfo told him.

“Good, I’m glad to have you with us,” Seth said, “You get the strangest riders. Go easy on them, they spook easily.”

Rodolfo seemed amused as he followed Seth to where the satyrs were standing apart from the group.

“Newel, Doren, this is Rodolfo, he has volunteered to carry you out of here,” Seth said. “I told him to go easy on your two because you’re scardy cats and this is unnatural.”

“I resemble that remark,” Doren said.

“You sure he’s up for carrying both of us?” Newel asked.

Rodolfo snorted, “I could carry you both and another besides.” Then he calmed down, “I swear that you will have safe journey on my back.”

“Sorry,” Newel said, “We’ve just never gotten along well with Centaurs, and have never met Luvians, but you seem an alright sort, I suppose.”

Seth left to find Nobel, who was waiting for him.

“Sorry about that buddy,” Seth said, “That was my last bit of being in charge for a while, had to do a good job of it. We’re going to be following Tanu and Charlemagne out of here, right?”

Nobel stomped once.

“Good, alright. If dragons try to bother us, I’m going to be the one talking to them. I won’t be focused on staying with the group then, you’re going to have to do that for me.”

Nobel tapped once again, then tossed his head. Seth smiled, “Yeah, I so got the coolest one.”

It took longer than Seth liked to get everyone mounted up and settled. Grandma made sure everyone had their weapons firmly put out of reach so that no accidents killed them all by disrupting the cloak of innocence’s power. The barrel ended up tied alongside Captain, weighing as much as a feather thanks to the magical item. They made sure Tess knew all the people and animals inside the protection of the cloak. Finally, they were ready about 5:30, which gave them a little over three hours before sunset.

“Until we meet again,” the caretaker brothers said in unison. They didn’t look anything alike, but their manners matched in that moment as the two dragons in human form bowed to the party.

“Lead on Charlemagne,” Seth called. They took off, and the heat fell away as they soared on the breeze. Seth decided to start counting, see how long it would take for a dragon to attack them.

He got bored and stopped, but it didn’t take long for one to approach.

“And where are you going, little caretaker?” a female voice asked. A black dragon surged from the surrounding woods into the air beside them.

“Oh, I’m not caretaker anymore,” Seth said, “I gave that over to Marat. Celebrant’s tantrums got boring; they aren’t worth my time.”

The dragon pulled back and a surge of green fire surrounded them, deflected by the bubble of Tess’s cloak.

“Now that was rude,” Seth said, as the breath weapon subsided, “Here we are, trying to leave peacefully, and you try to set us on fire.” He leaned forward on Nobel and stoked his neck. Dropping to a whisper he said, “Stay steady, don’t spook.”

There was a grunt Seth couldn’t interpret, but it was strong enough that Seth leaned back.

“Celebrant did not accept this change! He was not aware. You lie.”

Seth shook his head, “Take it up with the caretaker, Marat is back at Blackwell Keep. It might be hard, since Celebrant tore down the roost. The Somber Knight stripped Celebrant of his caretaker status, and since it’s no longer his business who is caretaker, we didn’t feel the need to inform him of the change. If he doesn’t know, you should hurry and tell him.”

The black dragon took off with three harsh beats of her wings. Not even the wind affected them, instead slipping around the barrier.

“Seth, here’s an idea, maybe don’t taunt the dragons?” Doren called back with a strained voice.

“Seconded,” Grandpa called from in front of him, “Protection from magical fear is all well and good, but we don’t need to make this experience anymore terrifying than it already is. Everyone okay?”

A round of affirmatives came, the silent horses whinnying.

Calvin flew up close on Thistleton.

“Should I try scouting like last time?” Calvin asked.

Seth shook his head, “Stay within the cover of the cloak. We don’t know how far we can stretch this bubble, and everyone staying together would be better. Go up to Charlemagne and ask how long until we reach the barrier.”

“Aye sir!” Calvin said. “Let’s go Thistleton!”

Calvin came back and reported forty minutes until they reached the boundary. Seth took out his spy glass and pointed it towards Sky Hold, but couldn’t focus it right while moving. He put it away and hoped. Hoped the black dragon was a chatterbox, discrediting Celebrant even further. Hoped she wasn’t as fast as she looked, and it would take her at least thirty minutes to make it to Sky Hold. They had bet a lot on this plan, and Seth really, really, really hoped it would work.

Ten minutes of fairly smooth flying (they had a small detour away from a herd of Peryton), and Seth was starting to feel hopeful. A dragon came up, but didn’t speak, just flew beside them, then dropped back down. Then twenty minutes down, twenty minutes to go, Calvin confirmed that they were on track.

A roar echoed along through the air, startling several flocks of birds, and even a couple of their flying mounts falter.

“Steady,” Grandma called.

“Seems like Celebrant just got the news,” Seth called to everyone.

“Pull in tighter,” Grandpa said, “As close as possible without jeopardizing speed. The less stretched the cloak, the better it will be able to protect us.”

Their mounts obeyed, and Seth started tapping his thigh nervously and checking over his shoulder towards Sky Hold. Five minutes later, according to his watch, because it felt like thirty minutes to him, Seth looked back and saw the streak of adamantine silver wings pushing towards them. Seth forced himself not to look back again.

“What is the meaning of this!” Celebrant demanded pulling to a stop in front of them. Their mounts reared in the air at the block.

“Keep going forward,” Knox called when their mounts pulled up. “he’ll be forced back, just like the first time I was here.”

“He’s right Charlemagne,” Seth called, “Keep going.”

Hesitantly, the mounts started forward again, and Celebrant snarled as he was the one forced back.

“I will not be ignored!” he roared. And it was exactly as terrible as it had been the day he and Kendra had had their interview.

“Uggh,” Seth said, wrinkling his nose, “I see you didn’t take my advice about the breath mints.”

“Do you admit to fleeing your post caretaker?” Celebrant demanded. “I would destroy you for your insolence!”

“As I told your spy,” Seth answered, “I’m not the caretaker. I gave the job back to Marat, and you can’t complain. The Somber Knight fired you for doing a terrible job! Go take it up with Marat back at Blackwell Keep. We’re leaving.”

Celebrant roared again, this time with the full strength of his breath weapon. Four other breath weapons joined from the rest of his entourage.

Calvin flew up beside him, and as quietly as he could, said, “The barrier is weakening by the Satyrs.”

Oh no. He was used to Kendra holding the magic item, Tess didn’t have the same magic juice in her.

“Tell everyone to get ready to dash,” Seth whispered back. Calvin took off and he took a deep breath.

“Celebrant!” Seth roared back, hoping he was about “I’ve met babies with better manners than you! We are leaving Wyrmroost in peace. You lie and cheat and still can’t beat a couple of kids. How does it feel to screw up so many times in just two weeks? Now leave us alone, you spineless piece of shit!”

“LANGUAGE!” Grandma yelled.

“Sorry!” Seth yelled back, “Celebrant, back off you piece of rotting troll dung! We’re leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

The breath weapon ceased, and Celebrant looked more livid than Seth had ever seen him. “YOU DARE INSULT ME! I WILL BURN YOUR BONES TO ASH AND FEAST UPON YOUR HORSES —” Celebrant was forced to the side as Charlemagne charged forward.

“The gate is in sight!” Tanu called.

“YOU FLEE LIKE COWARDS AND FLAUNT OUR CAGE! YOU WILL DIE HERE, SETH SORENSON!”

“And your mother was a chicken nugget!” Seth shouted over his shoulder, clinging to Nobel with all his might.

Celebrant swiped with claws at the barrier, forcing it to turn temporarily opaque. Another dragon, brown, attacked from above, and the black one struck above the Satyrs, their shrieks were barely heard over the large cracking sound of their barrier.

Options, he needed options! The moment the cloak broke they were all dead. Why hadn’t he claimed the bow from Kendra?

The bag of winds! Seth scrambled, and pulled the small sack out of his adventure kit.

“I have the rear!” he called to his family over the crack of the brown dragon attacking again. “Everyone keep sprinting.”

Nobel resisted a little, but let Seth tug him exactly behind Bagak. He readied the bag of winds as the black dragon swiped. The shield was remaining opaque for longer and longer. The black dragon chomped at the shield, and it shattered. With a roar, Celebrant dived directly for him.

Seth waited until just before Celebrant reached the fading shield, angling it to catch on the flat of his wings. He braced as much as he could without losing his hold on Nobel. Seth opened the bag as wide as it would go. The protection, currently a cracked shell, vanished under his attack. Celebrant was blown off course, his swipe missing—

Celebrant vanished, along with his allies. Seth blinked at the empty sky. Gazing downward, gone were the lush, colorful trees. There was no Blackwell keep in the distance, and no enormous mountain peaks where Thronis watched, probably laughing.

It took a second for the cheering of his friends to hit. But it hit like the colder air and Seth collapsed against Nobel and he dropped the bag of winds. Calvin caught it and flew it back up to him.

“You were awesome,” Seth said to his horse.

“No, you were amazing!” Newel said, inching Rodolfo closer. “We thought it was our turn to become barbeque!”

“Indeed,” Rodolfo said, “You and Nobel showed great courage.”

“I don’t know about you guys,” Seth said, “But I can take a little break before we do that again. And I need a hamburger. Now.”

Doren and Newel absolutely agreed.

#Forgotten Light #Seth Sorenson #Fablehaven #Dragonwatch #one of my fav chapters #the next two are really good too #First real action scene of the story #unless you count Kendra almost killing ronodin #which I still love

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bakugou-tm · 5 years ago

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fate’s design; bakugou

Okay so this was one of the few ideas I had going on but this one I had after I heard about the live action Tangled being made (literally wanted to be cast for that so bad). But anyways the reader has a healing quirk from her hair just like Rapunzel’s when she sings the song, and you can find out the rest as you read ;)

word count: 3000+

warnings: kidnapping, mad angst but a happy ending :-)

Emotion was a long lost friend of yours.

When you were younger, your life was filled with emotion.

The joy you felt when your family came over for summer cookouts and you got to play in the pool with your cousins while the sweet smell of meat burned on the grill. The sadness you felt when you had to reveal to your parents that you flunked your first math test. The anger you felt when your father ate the last cookie you had made with your mother that weekend, though it was quickly resolved when he returned to the store with a fresh batch.

All of these emotions, no matter good nor bad, you were at bay with. Content with even. Because at that time it was just so nice to.. feel something. Anything.

How you wished you could feel again, have a family again, a life.

That was all ripped from your grasp when you felt your very last emotion: pain.

The day was just like any other, you were walking home from school on sixth year in primary school. Your classes were beginning to grow harder, but thanks to your helpful friends and wise parents you had no troubles. After all, you and your peers were preparing for high school.

You remembered how excited you were for high school. Getting to meet new friends, join new clubs, play new sports. Perhaps you watched too many cliché high school movies, or maybe you had been too naive.

Probably the ladder.

You took the same path you always took, crossing through pretty neighborhoods with large historic trees and cracked sidewalks that brought back memories to your youthful days.

Just as you turned the corner you felt that feeling of comfort in your chest upon seeing the rustic color of your home, the smell cherry blossom tree overwhelming your senses as it did every afternoon.

You allowed the faint breeze to flow through your long soft locks, the occasional blossom falling far from the tree and into your hair.

You would always think... silly flower, you don’t belong in my hair. You belong in the tree with your family.

Walking peacefully down the street you made sure to skip over each crack, the knacking fear of the old children’s tale still in the back of your head.

To you it was just like any other weekday, the same old routine, same old walk, same old emotions.

But that day was far from normal, it was the last day you had the luxury of feeling.

You remembered the way a shiver ran up your spine when you felt someone entwining their fingers in your long locks. You remembered the way your parents ran outside at the sound of your shrill screams. You remembered being held back as you were dragged into a rundown van, your poor excuse of trying to escape proving to be useless. You remember having to watch your parents get engulfed in flames, their screams of agony filling your ears which over-rid the sound of tape being slapped across your mouth and body.

But the one thing that really swam in your mind like poison was the torn blossom that laid much to peacefully on the palm of your hand as tears of pure fear danced down your cheeks.

Silly flower, you don’t belong here.

Things have never been the same since that day. Sometimes you tried to think back on that day, those memories, just to try feel something again. But it never worked, nothing worked.

You followed the same routine everyday. Wake up, eat whatever scraps you could get, sit in the corner silently with no thought in mind, wait for one of the injured villains to come in, sing your song, heal them, hope they didn’t ask for much more from you, sleep, repeat.

You used to hate it so much, helping the people that took your life away against your will. Knowing you were the power of the sick people that ruined other people’s lives everyday. But at this point, you didn’t even know what it felt like to hate.

All you knew how to do was sing that sickening song and sleep. Nothing sounded the same anymore, nothing felt the same, nothing tasted the same. The bottom line was, nothing was the same.

And for six years that was your mindset, nothing would ever be the same. This would be your life til the day you die. That is, if you were lucky enough to see death’s doors.

But one day that mindset changed, your life changed forever. Thanks to the boy with crimson eyes.

You sat in the corner of your room, your bottom growing numb against the hardwood floors but you couldn’t care less.

Admittedly your room had gotten some upgrades since you first arrived here. From 11 to 18 you had finally been able to see a bed again, but it mattered not. The bed felt the same as the floor at this point.

Your (e/c) orbs were glued to the floor, your eyelids forcing themselves open pitifully as you traced the outlines of the hardwood as you did everyday.

With your room being below ground, probably in the middle of some rundown city, you weren’t able to hear much of what was going on in the outside world. Sometimes you would imagine what was happening, what holidays were going on and what families were spending time together.

It probably felt nice.

When a loud bang arose from upstairs, your eyes merely flicked to the door with uninterested. Probably one of the villains getting in a fight. Their hideout was in a rundown bar of sorts, this leading to the buffoons always being a drunk mess.

All you could do was hope that they would be sober enough when they had their daily visit with you.

The banging only proceded to get louder, shouts filling the air but you simply ignored it. Letting your head lower to the ground again as your (h/c) locks showered along your face.

Through everything you’ve been through, one thing that never changed was your hair. No matter how much you tugged and pulled at it, wishing it would fall out and end this misery you called a life: it remained.

Soft and gentle as ever, the strands never bothering to move out of place as the cascaded down your smooth shoulders.

It made you absolutely sick.

As the banging grew closer to your door you swore you almost felt a bit of curiosity fill your mind. But who were you kidding, you knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you.

Even as new voices filled the air and quirks seem to go off every which way, you failed to believe it was anything of your concern. You had been tricked long enough, you wouldn’t dare fall for hope again.

Curling your scratched up knees to your chin you let more of your hair cascade around your face, hoping to drown out the sounds and maybe even fall asleep.

The vibrations along the walls were surprisingly lulling to you, your head leaning against the cold concrete as you let your (e/c) irises see the last of this damp room for today.

But apparently your luck was runnign short today. Just before you could doze off into what freedom you had, the door slammed open.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, your (e/c) orbs peaking up to see which villain you had to heal today, only to see a figure you didn’t recognize.

He was dressed in a uniform, perhaps a villain you’ve never met? But he had no serious injuries, what else could he be here for?

One thing that stuck out to you was the slight confusion and horror that was washed over his expression as he looked you up and down.

If you had any bit of feeling left in your body you would almost be intimidated by the handsome man, his crimson iris’ slicing through you as his lips formed into a snarl showing off his near perfect teeth.

“You’re the flower they’ve been talking about?”

The sound of the word flower made you grimace, the word making you sick to the stomach as a quick flashback of the broken blossom in your hand so many years ago came to mind.

When arriving this the dungeon you now called home, the villains took note of the many blossoms in your hair from your tree at home, deciding to give you the nickname “flower”.

The word you once loved now made you sick.

Your flinching didn’t go un-noticed by the man before you, his eyes narrowing into mere slits as he clenched his fists.

“Sick bastards.”

Before you knew it he was walking over to you, extending out a palm to you awaiting you to take it.

He stood there, his eyes glancing back at the door to make sure no other shitty villain was coming before he glanced back at you only to see your body shoved even further into the corner.

His eyebrow rose in confusion as he shook his hand in an annoyed manor. What the hell were you doing?

“I’ve already done my job for today, please let me rest until tomorrow.” You spoke with quivering lips, only leading the ash blond to click his tongue.

“I’m not here to use you I’m here to get you the hell out of here, I’m a damn hero.”

In that moment you had never felt so overwhelmed in your life. So confused and unsure what to do. Hero? There was such a thing? How could this be real? You were sure your doomed life had been planned out, what was going on? Could life not let you chip away in peace?

The so called “hero” before you was growing impatient. He quickly crouched down on his toes, letting his arms lay across his knees as he looked at you with stern eyes, mumbling something about this being shitty Deku’s job.

“Listen I’m a fucking pro-hero okay? We’ve been chasing this case for months, hearing that the League of Villains had a secret weapon called their “Flower” that’s been the source of all their success these past few years,” The man explained with a sigh as he grit his teeth, “We expected you to be an actual flower, not a damn human, but it turns out these assholes are more disturbing than we expected.”

Your eyes felt glazed over as he offered his hand out once more.

“Now I need you to fucking trust me so I can get you out of here got it?”

For once in these past long years... you felt something. You felt the warm salty water dance across your cheek. You felt the rough rubber of this man’s glove as your slender fingers slid across his own. You felt... damn you say it.. hope.

Swallowing what saliva you had formulated in your mouth, you gave a quick nod before completely taking his hand and allowing him to lift you up from the floor.

One moment you were in the room you had lived in for six years, now you were running down the hallway. Nothing was in your way, it felt so surreal.

This had to be happening for a reason, maybe this was a test. Were they going to kill you if you betrayed them? Who were you kidding, killing you would be the easy way out. They needed you.

When the sight of stairs came into sight your eyes widened, you remembered those from your first day here. Upstairs, outside those doors was the real world.

For a quick second you almost felt like smiling, like screaming from pure joy. But you should’ve known what that would lead to. As a bullet sunk through the chest of the hero before you a scream did end up releasing from your chest.

But not from pure joy.

The hero sunk to his knees, his free gloved hand grasping his now bloodied chest before falling to the ground.

“Now now look what you’ve done flower, you know we have strict rules to keep you safe here.” The villain spoke before you, his gun flicking around his finger as if it were a toy as he began to walk towards you.

So the universe was still playing tricks on you, it wanted to make sure that you knew life still could be worse. And it was, it just kept getting worse and worse.

At least before you didn’t have to see the lifeless bodies that you had caused, but now as you saw the hero before you losing any sign of life in his crimson orbs you felt as if your body was being torn up from the inside. Just like when you saw your parents.

“Come on now flower, let’s get you back to your roo-”

A loud explosion from upstairs was heard causing you and the villain to stumble to your feet. Glancing up you noticed that heavy amounts of dust and ash from the cement walls were clouded around the villain before you.

In that moment you saw two choices. Two choices that life had bestowed upon you. You could either wait for those five seconds and allow the villain to take you back to that prisoned hole.

Or you could safe this hero and possibly have another chance at life. But why would you even try. Had you not learned after six years that life was not in your favor? What was even the point?

As your (e/c) eyes flicked down to the lifeless hero you wanted so badly just to lay beside him and give up, accept the cursed fate stowed upon you.

But as you looked into his crimson eyes, the only thing you could see were the eye’s of your parents. The lifeless look across their expressions as they screamed in pain from the intense flames engulfing them.

Back then you were too weak to do anything about it. You had to watch that happen and allow your life to become what it was. You... You couldn’t do that again.

No.

Gritting your teeth you dragged the hero through one of the now broken down doors, hastily wrapping your locks of hair around his chest as he coughed most likely from pain, holding at his wound.

You narrowed your eyes intensely and focused on making sure you hair wrapped around every inch of his wound.

The ash blond hero narrowed his own eyes up to you weakly, fighting to speak as he watched you maneuver around his corpse.

“W..What the hell are y..you doing?” The hero rasped, his hand trying to grasp around your wrist in an attempt to stop you, “Get the fuck out of here, save... save yourself!”

You simply ignored his pleads, tightening your locks of hair before inhaling deeply.

“Flower, gleam and glow, let your power shine..” You spoke softly, your eyes closing in focus as the hero before you gave you a crazed expression, “Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine.”

Initially the hero was disturbed by your soft singing, wondering if this was some sort of song of lost hope. How could you accept your fate like this? He couldn’t seem to plug anything together until he noticed your roots of your long (h/c) locks glow a bright golden color, the bright effect slowly cascading down your locks like a waterfall.

“Heal what has been hurt, change the fates’ design,” You sang peacefully, channeling your quirk’s energy to the man’s injury, “Save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine...”

Upon those words of the song your gentle (e/c) eyes opened slowly to glance down to the hero beneath you, his eyes growing wider as a mix of shock from your quirk’s magic and his sudden energy being brought back to him.

“What once was mine.”

The ash blond failed to notice his steady breathing once again, rather focusing on your hair’s golden shine fading away as your locks began to loosen from around his chest. His eyes followed down to his once bloody chest to now see the hole from the wound completely gone.

Suddenly it all made sense.

You were their healing flower, the source of their power. None of the members of the League of Villains were being taken down because they had unlimited lives. That’s why they had no fear running into battles, they knew they had no risk. Because they had you.

The young hero wasn’t sure if it was from the purely radiant song you sang, or maybe it was the action that had become of the song, or maybe now he was realizing just how truly beautiful you were inside and out. As if he had known you for years. But there was one thing he knew for sure.

Sitting up from his laid down position, the hero gently held both of your palms into his own as he gave you a gentle yet stern look.

“Flower, I will protect you at all costs, from this day on. You will never see the likes of these sick bastards again. We’re going to survive this and I’m going to be your damn hero.”

What was that feeling? The overwhelmingly warm surge through your chest. It felt as if he you had been stabbed in the heart, but it wasn’t pain you were feeling at all. In fact the warmth was spreading through your entire body, as if something inside you had been reawakened.

Part of you wanted to feel concerned about it but you just couldn’t with the other thought swarming in your head.

The hero just called you by the name you swore you would hate for the rest of your life, and yet you felt nothing but trust in the man. The word you swore would always make you feel sick... made you feel hope.

And for once in six years you allowed the corners of your lips to rise as you took his hand and spoke the first words of your new life with this crimson eyed man.

“I trust you hero.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #guess who's back bitches #slight angst #tangled au #rapunzel au #tangled #perhaps a series?#lol prob not

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random-thought-depository · 4 years ago

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The Star Trek TOS episode Space Seed was on TV Saturday; the episode with Khan (the genetically engineered “superman” Khan, not the guy who built Data Khan).

And a thought occurred to me. So, in the episode they comment on how Khan has “magnetism” and he’s portrayed as charismatic and seductive (both in the sexual/romantic sense and in the more general sense). Personally I didn’t really see the appeal, he seemed like basically just an unpleasant violent narcissist to me, but then I guess some people are into that; I guess he might appeal to the sort of person who really likes Donald Trump.

But I had a thought... OK, Khan is supposed to be a genetically engineered “superman,” created to be superior to ordinary humans; stronger, smarter, etc.. And a lot of physical attractiveness is features that indicate health and genetic fitness. So maybe Khan would look unnaturally handsome. Like, maybe he has super-symmetrical facial features and absolutely perfect skin and teeth and he moves with the speed and grace of a natural Olympic-level athlete and Julliard-level dancer and so on. He doesn’t look that way to me, but we can apply the logic fans have applied to Klingon foreheads and the rubber suit Gorn in TOS and assume what we see on the screen is an imperfect reflection of what Khan “really” looks like. Maybe a lot of Khan’s charisma is just halo effect from him being unnaturally handsome! He has such a big ego and is so proud of his own cleverness and “natural leader” personality traits, I think it’d be funny if a lot of his charisma is really something stupid like that and he’s smart and observant enough to realize it and deep down it bothers him a little!

Mmm, concept:

It does bother him. He uses it, of course. Charisma is a powerful tool and weapon; to refuse to use it out of petty pride would be foolish. And he really is charismatic in the ways he’s proud of being. He really is smart enough to figure out what makes people tick and use that knowledge to manipulate them. He really does have the drive, ambition, vision, and aggression of a natural conqueror, and people sense that and respond to it. He really does impress people with his intelligence and strength. It’s hard to untangle all this from the boost his charisma gets from his unnatural beauty, and to try is at best a matter of blue sky curiosity, at worst indulging one of his few gnawing goblins of self-doubt. Khan is smart enough to know what his charisma is, and pragmatic enough to use it to its full potential.

Still, deep down it bothers him to think that some of his charisma is something that stupid; to think that a difference of a few millimeters of bone and tissue here and there might have made him less successful. Khan relishes bending people to his will with his mind; knowing that something as stupid as “deep down that person wants to please me because I’m beautiful and it feels good to be liked by a beautiful person” is part of the “recipe” taints his triumph, makes him doubt himself. It’s one of the few sources of self-doubt Khan has.

Not everyone responds to Khan’s unnatural handsomeness the same way. A significant minority are actively repulsed by it; they find him too handsome, too perfect; they find it uncanny valley-ish, creepy. And some people just don’t seem to notice physical attractiveness much, or just don’t seem moved by it. And sometimes people are uncomfortable with the feelings Khan’s unnatural handsomeness creates in them and this makes them hostile to him; that happens especially often with men. Khan relishes dealing with people who don’t respond positively to his beauty, manipulating them, bending their minds and hearts to his will. With them he knows it’s a true match of wits and personality; with them his victory is pure.

On a certain level, deep down, Khan envies people like Adolf Hitler, who were charismatic but physically unattractive. They could be secure in the knowledge that their power came from the strength of their minds. When he was younger he once half-seriously considered mutilating his face or getting plastic surgery to make himself uglier, just to make manipulating people more of a challenge, but that was a foolish idea, and he no longer entertains it with any seriousness.

His fellow “superiors” have the same unnatural beauty, and he sometimes wonders if they have the same feelings about it. He’s discussed the matter with a few who he’s closest to, but it’s not something he talks about much.

He tells himself that people responding to his beauty are just responding to his natural fitness to lead in a roundabout way. He asks himself rhetorically why people desire to please and serve beautiful people, and he answers his own question thus: partly because beauty is correlated with health and genetic fitness, and therefore with intelligence and sanity! This leadership-selection strategy is not conscious, but natural selection has carved it into human behavior at the genetic level. This makes him feel a little better, but still... He knows well how sloppy such intuitive heuristics are, and the idea of owing some of his success to something so loosely connected to the strength of his mind bothers him a little. It bothers him, mildly and secretly but persistently, like a cigarette burn under his shirt.

Sometimes Khan wonders if some beautiful women, Marilyn Monroe for example, felt something like the way he feels. To consider this thought gives him a strange feeling; it makes him feel an empathy based on shared suffering of a sort, and he’s not used to empathizing with normal humans that way.

Khan is good at empathizing with people in the sense of cognitive empathy, of knowing how they think, of course. It’s an important part of his charisma; to manipulate people it really helps to understand them. Some conversation with a normal and observation of them and he can often predict their reactions better than they can. But the sort of empathy that comes from shared suffering ... he’s not used to feeling that toward normals. He’s really not used to feeling it toward anybody, because he’s experienced very little suffering. There was the suffering of defeat at the end of the Eugenics Wars, of course, and ... that was about it. He grew up pampered and privileged, surrounded by his creators, who treated him like a prince and told him he was special, better than most people, the next step in human evolution. He had tremendous power and privilege for most of his life. His perfect body has only ever known two kinds of pain, injury-pain (rarely) and exhaustion-pain (mostly only mildly); he has never felt a headache or a back-ache or anything like that, he has never been sick. Even the suffering of defeat was mostly an abstract intellectual and emotional pain; only at the very end was he in any sort of direct physical danger. He has been in battle, he fought hand-to-hand during the coup that first brought him to power and during the chaotic last days before he fled from Earth, he has directly killed people in combat ... but that was more exhilarating and fun to him than anything else; his creators gave him the temperament of a brave warrior.

Once, early in his rise to power, Khan tortured a prisoner by burning them with a lit cigarette. How the weak little thing squirmed and squealed! Afterwards, he tried burning his own arm with a lit cigarette, just to see what it felt like. The pain didn’t seem so bad to him, but then his creators made him resilient enough that he doesn’t need to coddle every little injury, and they adjusted his nervous system suitably, gave him a high pain threshold.

Sometimes Khan does experience a pang of sad visceral empathy toward the unfortunate. He imagines what it would be like to be one of the wretched of the Earth: poor, slow, stupid, weak, sickly, ugly, awkward, wracked by physical and emotional pain, tormented by hunger, thirst, heat, cold, chronic pain, sadness, anxiety, fear, loneliness, impotent anger, shame, sexual frustration, battered about like a leaf in a storm by forces they can’t understand and can’t effect, used and tricked and abused by people smarter or stronger or just higher-status. That ... that must be awful. In his own arrogant, condescending way he really does want to help the normals. He really does want to fill full the mouth of famine, and bid the sickness cease. He intended to make the world orderly and peaceful, and to make sure everyone had the food, shelter, clothing, medicine, etc. they needed and lived in what he considered reasonable comfort and dignity. He created as close an approximation as he could of those conditions within the domains he controlled. They say he was the best of the tyrants.

He’s a convinced elitist, but it would only have been temporary. If he’d won, within a few generations everyone would have been a superior, like him. With time the process that created him could have been made cheaper, made available to everyone who wanted to make a child; if he’d won he’d have made that a great civilizational project, as important as the fusion reactors he saw providing endless cheap energy by burning the deuterium of the oceans and the great vaccination and infrastructure-building campaigns he intended to launch in Africa and Asia and Latin America and the asteroid mining and the... No more need for an elite of superiors when everyone is a superior. And no more arthritis, or depression, or ... so many bad things would have disappeared into the history books when the last generation of normals expired peacefully of old age (joining war and poverty, which he intended to banish into the past much sooner). And in the mean time he’d have seen to it that the last generations of normals lived in as much comfort and dignity as their flawed bodies and limited minds permitted.

And that would have only been the beginning! He looked forward beyond that, to future generations that would be as far beyond him as he was beyond the normals - further! He looked forward to a future of - who knew, immortals seemed like the next obvious step. And after that perhaps god-like immortal minds freed from the limitations of flesh, building for themselves vast magnificent new bodies of silicon and steel in which they would outlive the stars. He probably wouldn’t have seen it, as perfect as his body is it still ages. He wouldn’t even have outlived the last normals. Like Moses, he would have led his people to the border of the promised land but died outside its gates, it would have been to his successor or his successor’s successor to lead them through into the land of milk and honey and dwell there with them. But, perhaps, huddled around one of the last black holes at the end of the time, sipping Hawking radiation to power slow thoughts that took a thousand years to think, there would have been beings that remembered him, that saw his face and touched his hand in the staggeringly distant era when they were still human and had chosen to keep the memory of that as the stars burned out and all through the long bright joyous festival in the cold of the ultimate night. That concept pleased him.

It was not to be. Well, he doesn’t blame the normals too much for rejecting him. The way he figures it, most of them just weren’t smart enough to understand what he was offering, and getting angry at them for that is like getting angry at a non-verbal autistic for being unable to speak.

Once, when he was a child, he was walking alone through the expansive beautiful pleasant garden of his creators’ compound, in the pleasant cool of evening after a hot Indian day, and he found a bird with an injured wing. He supposes Dr. Hibbert’s cat must have mauled it and then gotten distracted by something and wandered off. One of its wings was bloody and wounded and broken and twisted, dragged against the ground as it walked. When he walked toward it, it walked away from him as fast as its little legs could carry it, and then it tried pathetically to fly, flapping its wings furiously and impotently. The sight of it filled him with a queasy mix of revulsion and pity. His first impulse was to run away from it, and his second impulse was to seize a stone and put it out of its misery, but his third impulse, the one he chose to obey, was to capture it and try to fix its wing and tend to it and feed it until it healed. It tried to escape from him as he tried to capture it, and it struggled furiously as he seized and held it, beating its wings furiously and scratching at the air and his hand with its claws. The panicked, vital thing in his hands revolted him, and its claws scratched his fingers and drew blood, but he forced himself to be as gentle with it as he could, to bring it inside and clean and apply antibiotic to its wound and reset and bandage its wing as it tried to escape his grip. He knew it was only natural that it would fight him and try to escape from him; it couldn’t understand that he was trying to help it; its brain couldn’t be much bigger than a peanut, far too small to contain the knowledge of what he was trying to do for it, too small to contain anything but that which was immediately relevant to its wretched and limited life, the search for food and the avoidance of and flight from predators and the building and tending of a nest and mating and laying and tending of eggs and tending of any young that might hatch from them. If it thought at all about what was happening to it, it probably thought he was trying to eat it, or more likely its struggles were simply instinctive, and the process of setting the wing and cleaning and bandaging the wound must have caused it pain. He set its wing and cleaned and bandaged its wound despite its efforts to escape him, and then he put it in a cage Dr. Pretorius gave him and he fed and tended it until its wing was healed, and then he took it into the garden and let it fly away, to continue its wretched and limited and meaningless life in the wild. Perhaps it lived to its kind’s version of old age (perhaps 15 years, he looked it up, and he has an almost eidetic memory) and knew a few moments of something like joy now and then, or perhaps it was eaten by a cat the next day.

When he thinks of the defeat that forced him to flee from Earth, deep into the dark, he thinks of that bird scratching his fingers as he tried to help it.

They say he was the best of the tyrants.

He killed more people than Hitler and Stalin.

------

Note: this is a model for, like, approximately Space Seed period Khan; Wrath of Khan period Khan has known real suffering intimately and would be a lot more bitter. Negative character development lol. Especially as the whole “we couldn’t tell two completely different planets apart” thing in Wrath of Khan is so absurd that I kind of headcanon that would actually happened is that Khan wanted revenge for his wife’s death, decided he’d rather be the ruler of a populous world than the leader of a 72 person village, tried to MacGyver up a small starship to reach a civilized world, ended up crashing on the much less habitable next planet out in that solar system, and in true Hitler/Trump-like fashion blamed somebody else (Kirk) for the consequences of his own overreach and disastrous failure.

#Star Trek #character concepts #fanfiction #flash fiction #cw: ableism #kinda #I think that Mel Baggs all oppression is rooted in ableism thing #would apply intensely to what went wrong with Khan and his supermen #I can't believe I got feels for this jerk writing this!#when I was deliberately writing him to come off as arrogant and unpleasant!#like Moses lol he would think of it that way!#I guess I'm just a sucker for that optimistic high SF stuff #also I do see him as a monster that was made not born #it's not superior ability creates superior ambition #it's that he's got rich spoiled gifted kid syndrome from Hell!

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joannalannister · 5 years ago

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Anonymous asked:

Hey there, Lauren! I love your blog and metas! I have a question for you, in terms of the book, could you tell me when and where Daenerys shows signs of being a tyrant or a fascist? I see lots of metas say that she is, but from what I've read, I don't see any signs of that? Sure, she kills her enemies, but what powerful monarch doesn't? I just feel like the fandom has a very biased and double standard hatred when it comes to her, and I would like your opinion! Thank you!

Before I answer your question, we need some sort of working definition of fascism. To achieve this, I would like to quote a disabled person who helped lead the fight against fascism for years, and who died in the line of duty:

Over a year and a half ago I said this [...]: "The militarists in Berlin, and Rome and Tokyo started this war, but the massed angered forces of common humanity will finish it."

Today that prophecy is in the process of being fulfilled. The massed, angered forces of common humanity are on the march. They are going forward [...]

We will have no truck with Fascism in any way, in any shape or manner. We will permit no vestige of Fascism to remain. [...]

In every country conquered by the Nazis and the Fascists, or the Japanese militarists, the people have been reduced to the status of slaves or chattels.

It is our determination to restore these conquered peoples to the dignity of human beings, masters of their own fate, entitled to freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom from want, and freedom from fear.

We have started to make good on that promise. I am sorry if I step on the toes of those Americans who, playing party politics at home, call that kind of foreign policy “crazy altruism” and “starry-eyed dreaming.”

--President Franklin D. Roosevelt, July 28th, 1943 Fireside Chat

What did the fascist Nazi Party stand for in WWII?

Historically, there was no Nazi Party apart from their racial and social agenda. It was a party founded on racial distinctions, with a vision to dramatically transform their society. The Nazis disliked and persecuted anyone who they did not consider Aryan. They persecuted and killed Jewish people, homosexuals, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and communists, and they wanted to eliminate people with mental or physical ailments. The Nazis pushed women out of the workplace and actively promoted patriarchy. [x]

But where does GRRM come into this?

I wasn’t a complete pacifist; I couldn’t claim to be that. I was what they called an objector to a particular war. I would have been glad to fight in World War II. But Vietnam was the only war on the menu. [x]

GRRM’s ethical views are at their clearest and most concise while discussing slavery and dehumanization in his (most excellent and highly recommended) vampire novel, Fevre Dream:

I never held much with slavery […]. You can’t just go… usin’ another kind of people, like they wasn’t people at all. Know what I mean? Got to end, sooner or later. Better if it ends peaceful, but it’s got to end even if it has to be with fire and blood, you see? Maybe that’s what them abolitionists been sayin’ all along. You try to be reasonable, that’s only right, but if it don’t work, you got to be ready. Some things is just wrong. They got to be ended.

Some things are worth fighting for. Fascism requires opposition, some form of opposition, or it will steamroller all over you.

My regret now is not that I stayed my arm, but that I remained aloof in my window while others protested peacefully outside. It would be naïve to think that those marching in neo-Nazi parades could have a change of heart from such efforts, but I am more concerned with those who are not marching for anything. We must convince the apathetic to care, and stop those who are walking down the path of hatred before it becomes too late.

--David Olin, The View from My Window, Berkeley 2018, written for the Elie Wiesel Foundation for Humanity

Now, let me apply this to ASOIAF piece by piece.

In every country conquered [...] the people have been reduced to the status of slaves or chattels.

This is Tywin. This is Tywin enslaving people as part of his militaristic campaign of aggressive force in the Riverlands. This is Tywin sanctioning the capture and torture of innocent people. This is Tywin “using” other kinds of people and disregarding the fact that they are human beings. This is Tywin enslaving Arya Stark. This is Tywin impressing people to work in his gold mines on a whim, as we learn in AGOT. This is Tywin reducing people to the status of slaves or chattels. This is Tywin.

I don’t know how many different ways I can say it, but as I’ve said before and will say again: Tywin is the character in the ASOIAF books who most prominently espouses fascist ideology.

There are other characters in the main series -- Roose Bolton and Randyll Tarly, for example -- who also exhibit characteristics of fascist ideology, but I would argue that it is Tywin who is the fascist poster boy of ASOIAF ... and it is also Tywin who is one of the main villains who is drawing humanity’s attention south away from the true threat of the Others, who wish to turn every living thing into their slaves and playthings. (Littlefinger also comes to mind.) Tywin is an unwitting general in the Others’ army. Tywin is fighting the Others’ Campaign of Dehumanization on their behalf.

The Nazis disliked and persecuted anyone who they did not consider Aryan.

Substitute “Aryan” for “Lannister” and this is Tywin. “a Lannister, and worth more.” It is Tywin who pushes an agenda of Lannister superiority and it is Tywin to whom non-Lannisters aren’t human, to the point that he had to marry his own cousin. He dislikes non-Lannisters so much he had to marry his own cousin!!!! It’s Tywin who passed down his obsession with blood purity to his children to the point that they literally have to fuck each other. It’s Tywin who puts his House (a proxy for his race) above the individuals in it; it’s Tywin who doesn’t care if Cersei and Jaime and Tyrion are ground to dust under his disgusting ideology as long as House Lannister reigns supreme.

"Spice soldiers and cheese lords," his lord father called them, with contempt.

This is Tywin.

Non-Lannisters aren’t fully human to Tywin. This is fascist ideology!!!!

It was a party founded on racial distinctions

This is Tywin and Kevan, refusing to allow the Westerlings to marry into their family because of “doubtful blood”!!!!! (”Ser Kevan seldom had a thought that Lord Tywin had not had first.”)

It was a party founded on racial distinctions

This is Tywin and his refusal to allow a betrothal between Jaime and Elia.

they wanted to eliminate people with mental or physical ailments.

This is Tywin and his hatred toward disabled Tyrion. This is Tywin and his refusal to allow a betrothal between Jaime and disabled Elia.

The Nazis pushed women out of the workplace and actively promoted patriarchy.

This is Tywin. This is Randyll hating on Brienne of Tarth. (And you can bet your ass Tywin doesn’t approve of women with swords.)

I don’t know how many ways I can say it: Tywin and others like him are the fascists.

Tywin is one of the cold fucks the AGOT prologue warns us about in the very beginning: “the real enemy is the cold.”

The central conflict of ASOIAF is between the living (the fire) and the dead (the cold), those who would recognize your humanity and those who won’t.

It is our determination to restore these conquered peoples to the dignity of human beings, masters of their own fate

^^ This is Daenerys Targaryen ^^

Daenerys Targaryen is a freedom fighter who kills slavers in the books.

Her breakup of the economic system of Essos (meaning SLAVERY) is more akin to a communist revolution than a fascist takeover imo. Daenerys associates herself with people of all races, all classes. She gives Missandei, who canonically has dark skin in the books, a place as one of her closest advisors. Unlike Tywin, Daenerys is not pushing an agenda of Targaryen superiority.

Daenerys is not perfect. She does not always get it right. Daenerys has got some things wrong. But I don’t think there has been any other option for Daenerys. You ... you can’t just look the other way when evil men are crucifying children, and I truly do not think that non-violent opposition would change anything in Essos. “Better if it ends peaceful, but it’s got to end even if it has to be with fire and blood, you see?”

Sometimes innocents like Hazzea have died on Daenerys’s journey.

And I fully believe that more people are going to die in TWOW, and that Daenerys will hold herself responsible, whether she is or not. I know that TWOW will give all the antis of every character a lot of ammunition. TWOW is going to be a dark and depressing book.

I think that Daenerys is going to reach a very low point in TWOW, just as Tyrion is nose-diving in ADWD, but I think that’s just what GRRM does with his greatest heroes. It’s the moment in a movie when the hero falls off the cliff, and the Evil Villain starts cackling maniacally and you think all is lost, and then you see the hero’s hand reach up over the edge and the music crescendos as the hero pulls himself up. Except the real villains that GRRMs heroes are battling are themselves. The cliff is a metaphor for our darkest impulses.

Characters tell Dany in AGOT that “she is nothing” but Dany’s story is about proving them wrong. It’s about her finding her own dignity and worth as a human being out on the Dothraki Sea, and becoming the master of her own fate. As her story progresses, she helps others to do the same, helping people to rediscover their dignity, to regain their names (or take new ones), to find the humanity that was stolen from them.

(This is why it’s so important to me that her story intersect with zombie!Jon, so that she can help a dead man remember what it is to be human and remember why it all matters. Because if none of it matters ... if a man can’t find a fuck to give, well, that’s Tywin Lannister, who was a cold dead man long before Tyrion shot him.)

I brought up FDR in the beginning of this post. Although FDR died before GRRM was born, he was one of the great American cultural figures of the 20th century and I have no doubt FDR’s legacy was a formative influence on GRRM. And that’s the thing - so many of these, these great American cultural figures of GRRM’s life died before their work was completed: FDR, JFK, MLK, so many others... The promised land is somewhere ahead of us, despite the opposition making accusations of “crazy altruism” and “starry-eyed dreaming.” No one is going to drive us there and drop us off; we have to get there by ourselves, and the journey isn’t an easy one. It’s a place we have to keep striving for, working for. A dream of spring...

It’s not Daenerys’s destiny, I think, to rule humanity in the long term; Dany’s destiny is, I think, to make sure that humanity doesn’t, well, lose their humanity. To make sure that humanity doesn’t fall into eldritch slavery.

The Others would make us automatons in their icy, inhuman regime. The Others would steam-roller all over humanity, and take away humanity’s freedom to choose, as Tywin Lannister tries to do to his children, trying to take all of their choices away and control them completely. The Others would take away our self-determination, our freedom to choose good or evil, our freedom to be the rulers of our own fate.

I don’t think it’s Daenerys job to be a ruler in the end. I think she’s fighting evil now so that other people can keep fighting that good-and-evil “human heart in conflict with itself” fight long after she’s gone ... I’ve never believed in a “Targaryen restoration” ending although I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to it.

Like Moses, Daenerys won’t lead us into the promised land ... we have to get there ourselves.

And I’ve strayed from your question into a topic that’s more interesting to me because I cannot fucking belieeeeeeve that you are even asking me if the compassionate, caring, teenage-girl, sexual-abuse-survivor, messiah-figure Daenerys Targaryen is a fucking fascist when everything Daenerys “the fire is mine” Targaryen does is in narrative opposition to Certified Fucking Fascist Tywin Racist Lannister oh my god I cannot believe this is where we’ve come to as a fandom, I cannot fucking belieeeeeeve.

Anon. Honey. Baby. I say this gently, with love: Whyyyyyyyyy are you reading “Daenerys is a fascist” metas? That didn’t even work on the show.

When I googled “Daenerys Targaryen fascist” to try and figure out what you could possibly be reading to argue against it, the top result is an alt-right thinkpiece website about how dangerous Dany was all along in freeing slaves!!!! And the next results are people who think the iron throne actually matters when GRRM himself has said that the political war is a red herring.

The endgame rulers don’t even particularly matter because what matters in the end is that humanity wins against the Others and we still have control over ourselves, what matters is for that human heart conflict to continue to exist inside ourselves and that we rule over that conflict inside ourselves.

"We all must choose," she proclaimed.

Practice some self-care; go read Armageddon Rag, and remember this: TWOW is not going to save us.

#to my friends out there: shoutout to Comrade Drogon ☭#daenerys targaryen #tywin lannister #asoiaf meta #lannister thoughts #tywin meta #dany meta #fascist masculinity #fascist masculinity in asoiaf #asoiaf and the american mythos #the meaning of asoiaf #the war for the dawn #endgame #fascism

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joon-ipersgirl · 4 years ago

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O5 - “airplane pt. 2″

genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff

pairing: jimin x reader (f)

summary: they say home is where the heart is. you’re convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin.

you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your mother’s arms, rocky relations with ex-boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to call it home, choosing a job where you’re always on the go and on your own.

on a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jimin’s flirty advances but understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts off as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jimin’s secret destroy the relationship before it’s had the chance to truly begin?

word count: 5.4k

warnings: cursing, mentions of anxiety, talks of heartbreak

a/n: i thought i should post this while i had the motivation lol. this has a lot of background for their past relationships with a lil twist so i hope you enjoy it. this is the last part i have completed so updates for this story might be a while but winter break is coming up so i should have more time. i just really want to do the next part justice you know? anywhoo. as always, thank you vi for reading this beforehand and pls leave any comments and thoughts in an ask. i’m curious to the reactions of jimin’s relationship history. enjoy everyone and think you for reading!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

There were no thoughts of Tiago when you woke up that morning. Your cheek was pressed against Jimin’s back as your arm was draped over his upper body and your leg slung over his lower back. His breathing was deep and even as he slept peacefully beside you. You realized you’d technically only taken a nap as no sunlight peeked under the curtain, only the artificial lights from the street signs gently illuminating the room.

The events of last night came rushing back to you and you pulled away from Jimin, surprised at just how bold you’d become.You’d truly felt comfortable enough to share a deep part of your life story with a man that you’d known for two days. A man that you had a crush on. A man that had almost kissed you in the middle of a dive bar in the middle of Hong Kong. Jimin was encroaching on dangerous territory.

A ping! came through on your phone which you realized was across the room with the rest of your things. You groaned at the thought of having to leave the comfortable confines of the bed. Another loud ping! dragged you from the warmth of the sheets, choosing to crawl over Jimin’s legs instead of his lap, remembering the previous morning’s antics. Checking your phone, you saw three unread messages from Michael.

Michael: Good afternoon Y/N! Have you any word on when you’ll arrive in Bali? [1:09]

Michael: So I haven’t received a call or text from you. I assume everything is fine, or Park Jimin has killed you. I hope it’s the former [4:17]

Michael: So clearly he’s killed you. I’ll be sending his name and social security number off to the authorities [4:19]

You snorted at Michael’s messages as you inched your way back into your spot though Jimin had claimed the majority of your space in his sleep. He didn’t stir as you slipped under the covers, but rested his head against your chest as you laid on your back; you didn’t have the heart to move him as you responded to Michael.

You don’t have his social security number Michael. I’m fine. We just had a long night. And our flight is leaving some time this afternoon. I’ll get the details from Jimin and send them to you

[4:22]

Michael: You don’t know that. And a long night? Y/N, don’t tell me you were in the arms of this man when you’ve only known him for at most 2 days [4:24]

So what if I was? You’ve definitely done worse

[4:25]

Michael: You’re right. But this is one of the areas where I don’t lead by example. Please tell me you used protection at least [4:26]

Gross, Michael. Nothing happened. We just went to the museum (I saw Garland Sans) and then went for dinner and some drinks

[4:27]

Michael: A museum, dinner, AND drinks? In ONE night? Sounds like a date. A classy one at that since you said there was no fucking [4:29]

Michael: AND YOU SAW GARLAND SANS WITHOUT ME?! WITH HIM?! HOW DARE YOU! [4:30]

You’re honestly so crude. There was no fucking. It was just a casual hangout, nothing crazy. Also, I didn’t know his work was going to be there. I don’t think it’ll be the same exhibit in New York so we’re fine

[4:33]

Michael: A casual hangout where you forget to text me back? I beg to differ. Spill [4:34]

You chewed on your lip as you stared at Michael’s message. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to tell him what happened; Michael was more than just a manager, he was also like a best friend. The problem was you didn’t really know how to describe last night. You barely understood what had transpired yourself. Throwing caution to the wind, you laid out all the details of the previous night.

Michael: … [4:53]

Michael: Y/N, this man did NOT wine and dine you and you left him hanging out to dry! Have I taught you nothing? [4:54]

Michael: I just - I cannot believe you got lucky like this. Well, not that kind of lucky. Either way, he didn’t actually kiss you so maybe he deserved that. An art curator at that. And he lives in NYC? You really are living in the moment. I’m so happy to hear after that S.O.B. [4:55]

Michael: Wait, does this mean you’re in bed together now?! [4:55]

It wasn’t that type of night! Like you said, I’ve known him for TWO DAYS. We can’t just have sex. And

I guess so; Tiago hasn’t been on my mind as much lately. Yes, Michael. We’re currently still in bed. Jimin’s sleeping

[4:58]

Michael: It’s the 21st century, Y/N. Live a little. You’re a modern-day woman. It’s been a year and a half love, I would hope he wasn’t. Not when you have a man that sounds like he’s sex on legs wrapped around your finger. [5:01]

Michael: Please send a pic. Thanks! [5:02]

He is not wrapped around my finger! And I’m definitely not just going to send you a picture of him sleeping! That’s weird!

[5:05]

Michael: Booo! This would be for the authorities Y/N. Think about your safety [5:07]

I am. So safe from you and your antics when I’m on the other side of the world. I’m going to shower, I’ll text you later

[5:09]

Michael: Oh you’re a dirty girl! Ask Jimin to join you. Remember to text me the flight details [5:12]

You chuckled at Michael’s attempt to make you uncomfortable. There was no way in hell you would do that. Jimin wasn’t wrong when he said you could barely look at him with clothes on and you blushed as the increasingly inappropriate thoughts tried to break through the barrier of unconsciousness and consciousness. You felt Jimin tug you closer as you tried to slip out of his grip again.

“Where are you going?” he mumbled, still half asleep.

“To go take a shower,” you said while trying to push him off you.

“No,” he whined. “Don’t leave me.” He snuggled closer and you laughed.

“Let go, Jimin. I smell gross; I’m basically leaking alcohol from my pores at this point.”

“I don’t care. You’re warm and I want to sleep more.”

“You can still sleep while I go and shower.” You pinched his side and he jerked away from you. His glare was comical as he struggled to locate you with sleep-heavy eyes. “So you’re ticklish? Good to know.”

“You’re mean,” he pouted as he rolled over onto his stomach after you’d successfully vacated the bed. “And it’s early as fuck. Wake me up when it’s a reasonable hour to be a human being.”

“You don’t even know what time it is,” you mumbled as you closed the door on any reply Jimin could make.

You welcomed the sting of the hot water against your shoulders, soothing the knots in the back of your neck. Letting the water run through your hair, you smoothed it out of your face. Massaging your scalp was therapeutic nowadays, especially since it was so much shorter. You hadn’t grown it out in a year and a half, now enjoying the short dry time and the new woman you were; Tiago would have hated it. You sighed as he resurfaced and you washed him away again with the simple smelling body wash. By the time you were dressed in your last clean emergency clothing, your hair was already drying.

The smell of coffee welcomed you as you sat down to add the final touches to your Saipan video. It wasn’t hard to get lost in editing, your brain working overtime to adjust the exposure of the film, fade out the titles, and sync up the music. You relished the peacefulness of the early morning quiet, your life seeming to return to its normal rhythm even if just for a few moments. Your moleskine journal with edited itinerary notes sat next to the steaming second cup of black coffee just as the breakfast rush started to roll in and along with them an extremely flustered Jimin.

“Y/N!” he crashed into the seat opposite you. “I thought you left!” His backpack sat beside yours on the floor as you stared at him confused.

“Where could I have possibly gone, Jimin?”

“I don’t know. You weren’t there when I woke up and neither was your stuff. I thought I overstepped last night and made you uncomfortable,” he said. Droplets of water fell from his hair and onto his white t-shirt. Your face softened.

“I needed some coffee. And to get some work done. You really thought I would have left you?” you asked curiously.

He shrugged and pushed his hand through his damp hair. “What reason would you have to stay?”

You opened your mouth and closed it. Jimin was right. You didn’t have to stay. It was possible that you could have just gone to the airport, given them your name, and be set - though that would have made for an awkward conversation whenever Jimin arrived as your seats were next to one another. You watched him head over to grab some food, greeting Sonia in passing, as he piled his plate high. He returned shortly after with Sonia and handed you a plate of fruit.

“She says you’ve been down here for hours and haven’t touched a thing; you need to eat. And she wanted to know if you enjoyed yesterday.” Sonia stood at the end of the table expectantly.

“It was really great. The museum was incredible. I really can’t thank you enough. And Jimin was a great tour guide. Did she see the pictures?” Jimin shook his head, his mouth stuffed with food as usual, before he thumbed the polaroids out of his wallet. Sonia cooed and the two of them chatted again, a slight blush overtaking the tips of Jimin’s ears.

“She said you look really beautiful and she’s happy you enjoyed yourself so much.” You thanked her as you chewed on a grape, wondering what else Jimin had left out of his translation. Too much was said for it to be condensed into a two-part sentence.

“What time is our flight leaving, Jimin? Michael wants me to send him the details.”

“So flight leaves at 1:40 pm and we board at 1:10 ish -“

“Holy fuck Jimin!” You slammed your laptop shut. “It’s 12:17! We have to go. Now. Fuck!” You shoved your journal into your backpack, the chair almost tipping back as you shot up from your seat. It took a few seconds for Jimin to realize just how far away from the airport you were before he too was out of his chair and shoving the last piece of pastry into his mouth. Sonia looked alarmed as you tried to return your dirty dishes until Jimin explained and she grabbed the plates out of your hands and yelled for William.

You bounced your leg as you watched William weave through the midday traffic. The leather of the seat bench stuck to the underside of your thighs. Lunch hour traffic in Hong Kong was just as bad as in New York and you willed yourself to remain calm as you cruised down the highway. The wind roared through the open windows and whipped your hair around your face. It was torture leaving the fate of your on-time arrival in the hands of a man you had literally met yesterday in a pickup truck that you were sure was a few years older than you. You envied Jimin’s ability to look peacefully out of the window at the bustling city while the coil of nerves bundled tight in your belly rolling like the waves of the deep sea.

Michael had not texted you back and you worried that somehow your phone service had been cut off again. An irrational thought because it was nearing 1 am in New York, but your brain had seemed to have left rationale back with Sonia. The comfort that your early morning wake up had given you in addition to the previous night’s adventures had been ripped away from you. It was no longer only you and Jimin in the back seat; anxiety had squeezed in beside you. Tears pricked your eyes in frustration as you prayed you wouldn’t have another delay in finally getting to Bali.

“Don’t worry, Shutterfly. We’re going to make it. You’re not missing this flight. I promise,” Jimin said to you as William followed the signs for the departure terminal. You could barely offer him a smile as the looming structure that was Hong Kong International Airport grew closer.

William pulled his truck over to the sidewalk between a Kia and a Buick, the vehicle looking extremely ancient compared to the other two. “Have a safe flight. And Sonia expects to see you both again soon okay?” William declared. Jimin hopped down and turned to help you out of the truck.

“We’ll do our best,” Jimin muttered, glancing at you. “Thank you for everything, William. I’ll let you know when we land.”

“Thank you, William. It really meant a lot, you taking me in and stuff,” you added and he gave your shoulder a squeeze through the open window as Jimin shut the door.

“You two should hurry. Go,” he shooed you towards the terminal doors. Jimin said goodbye once more and then was pulling you through the automatic doors.

The two of you breezed through the other passengers checking their luggage as you used the machine kiosks bypassing any potential cheery airline workers. Jimin trailed behind you as you zipped through the slow-moving passengers, your eyes focused on the glass doors leading towards the security checkpoint.

“Hey! Slow down, Shutterfly. We’re going to make it, even if we have to run,” Jimin said as he picked up his pace to catch up with you. You did not want to have to run. You had never run for a flight in your entire life and you did not want to start now. You bounced from side to side as you moved painstakingly slow towards the immigration officer perched on her high chair. It was already 1 pm, but no one else seemed concerned, probably actually on time for their flight. You rolled your shoulders, trying to loosen the tension nestled between them.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s okay.” Jimin slipped his hand under your hair, his thumb rubbing gentle circles between the base of your neck and shoulders. You sighed and removed his hand, turning to face him.

“It’s not okay, Jimin. I don’t even know if they have my bag,” you huffed. You stepped forward to hand your passport and boarding pass to the officer.

“I’m sure they do, darling. As long as you have your -”

“I remember what you said about the tag, Jimin. That doesn’t change the fact that I could land in Bali without my bag. I don’t even have enough time to ask someone about it,” you snapped while placing your camera bags into the grey bins, your shoes following after. Jimin said nothing further as he emptied his own backpack, the book he had been reading more dog-eared than when you first saw it along with a leatherbound book.

Just as you were passing through the body scanner, an announcement blared through the terminal. “This is the last boarding call for passengers Park Jimin and Y/N Y/LN on flight 7860 with services to Bali, Indonesia at Gate C9. Again, would passengers Park Jimin and Y/N Y/L/N please report to Gate C9 for flight 7860 to Bali, Indonesia? Thank you.”

“Shit,” you exclaimed, shoving your hands through your hair as another TSA officer looked over your scan. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!”

“Alright, you’re good.” You didn’t wait for the last word to spill from his mouth before you were back in front of the conveyor belt waiting for your stuff to pass through its own scanner. Quickly and as carefully as you could, you zipped your cameras back up and tucked them into your backpack. Your hands were shaking.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I got you!” Jimin called out as he moved around you. He was already packed up and taking off by the time you’d secured your things. You stared in disbelief as you watched him run through the departure terminal, not caring how many people stared at him. It looked like you would be doing the same.

You chased after him, clutching your passport and phone in your hand, chest heaving as you watched Jimin’s head disappear further into the crowd. Fuck, he was fast. You dodged the small children that waddled along with their parents and the elderly couples that squinted up at the screens to find their correct gates. Your legs burned as you pushed through the pain, the hallways of the airport being much longer than you remembered. You couldn’t afford to miss this flight.

Rounding the corner to gate C9, the seats were empty. The rest of the passengers had already boarded the plane. A few of the airline employees milled around getting ready to close the gate. One was arguing with Jimin who refused to walk through the doors so they couldn’t close it.

“Look! There she is. I told you!” Jimin was standing in the doorway leading down the aircraft gangway, blocking the airline employees from closing the door. They looked highly irritated.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes, that’s me. I’m so sorry!” you apologized while handing over your boarding pass for it to be scanned. Your face felt hot from all the attention but you pushed it down. There was nothing else to worry about.

“Have a safe flight,” the employee mumbled as he handed you back the pass. You smiled, relieved.

Jimin grinned at you as he jogged towards the plane, his hair bouncing with every step. “I told you we wouldn’t miss the flight, Shutterfly.”

Ignoring all the nasty looks you received as you walked down the aisle of the plane, you and Jimin flopped down into your respective seats, tired from your sprint to the gate. The usual airplane routine started up as the plane left the gate and you relaxed in your seat as you watched the tarmac roll by through the window. Running was not your forte and you wondered if you should have considered Michael’s offer to be his plus one at Planet Fitness more seriously. You could feel the sweat bead around your hairline. A shower would be great once you reached your accommodations. You sat up abruptly.

“Fuck,” you whispered, grabbing your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, fastening his seatbelt.

Scrolling through your numerous email notifications, you saw the one you were praying wouldn’t be there. Airbnb reservation canceled in the subject line. Fuck.

“Ma’am, could you please turn off your cell phone or switch it to airplane mode? The plane is getting ready for departure,” a stewardess chided you. You nodded and tucked it back into your pocket, dazed. In 5 hours and 5 minutes, you would be landing in Ngurah Rai International Airport with nowhere to stay for 9 days. Shit.

“You’re chewing your lip again.”

“Huh?” You looked over at Jimin who was still reading The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, his body feigning disinterest but you knew he was paying attention to you.

“You were chewing your lip. It’s your tell-tale sign that something’s wrong,” he replied as he turned the page. You opened your mouth to protest but closed it quickly. He was right.

“How did you know though?” you asked, tucking your hair behind your ear, now extremely conscious that he had been observing you.

“What are you worrying about? Your project? Y/N, it’s going to be amazing. This is what you love doing, right? You can do it,” Jimin encouraged, bookmarking his page and looking at you.

“I don’t know, Jimin. A romantic getaway? That displays passion and love? Those are things I haven’t felt in a very long time,” you noted. The memories of Tiago swirled at the corners of youe mind and you sighed in frustration that you thought about him again.

“Bullshit,” he said. Jimin tucked his book into the seatback pocket in front of him. “Love doesn’t have to only be romantic, Y/N. There are so many incredible forms of love out there. The love people have for their families, for their jobs, for their - I don’t know - neighbors they only see on Sundays because they do laundry at the same time. We love just because. There really doesn’t have to be a reason,” he finished. You stared at him. His brown eyes were bright with passion and his face was set in determination to convince you what he was saying was true. You were amazed at his belief in his own words.

“Do you think you could say that again? On film, though.” He laughed at you as you went to pull out your camera but he stopped you.

“I keep telling you, Y/N. If you want me to be your muse, all you have to do is ask,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes as you rested the camera in your lap. “But if you really do want my help, I’ll be happy to work with you on your project.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded and smiled. “Seriously. This is important to you. I want to help.”

You tried to hide your smile. Though it was something simple, Jimin supporting your craft was something you hadn’t experienced in years. People didn’t believe in the arts as much as they liked to consume it. “Thank you, Jimin. That really means a lot to me.”

“Remember I told you I’d show you what love is? This is a great way to do it.” Jimin grinned as you laughed at him.

“And what do you know about love, Mr. Park?” you asked jokingly. Jimin averted his eyes, his smile less vibrant than before.

“You’d be surprised,” he said with a shrug.

“More lessons from Mr. Park Sr.?” you joked again, poking his shoulder, trying to lighten his sudden change of mood. He chuckled lowly.

“Some. A lot I learned on my own.”

“A lot? What’s your favorite one?” you posed. You were intrigued about a Jimin who had seen these many sides of love. Who was he beforehand? How had he changed? “Have you ever had your heart broken?”

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’. “A few times. I guess you could say the last one was the worst,” he commented.

“Would you like to share?” you asked gently, not wanting to overstep your boundaries.

“I can. Especially if it’ll help you believe in love.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you shoved his shoulder gently. “I assume you’ve also had your heart broken?” You nodded. “Hmm. Well, Shutterfly. Sit back, relax, and let me tell you the story of Alexandria.” Jimin eased his seat back and turned his head to face you, his fingers laced and resting in his lap. He looked as though he was in a therapist’s office to talk about his trauma and the feelings associated with them. Depending on the nature of the story, he might need to go and see one.

“Lexa and I met during my Freshman year of college. She was tall, slim figure, very ‘plain Jane’ except for her copper-colored hair. She was really a brunette, but in certain lighting, it looked red. Then she started toning it - it doesn’t matter. Anyway, I was hanging out with a bunch of friends in the library studying for this major test when she walked by and that was it; I was a goner. We ended up having a class together the following semester where I found out she was a Sophomore -”

“Ooh! An older woman?!” You perked up in your chair at the new detail. “I never would have -”

“Pegged me for the type? We’re back on that, Y/N?” he asked with a wry grin. You blushed at the memory and sank back down.

“Continue,” you whispered sheepishly.

“So she was a Sophomore studying Psychology with a minor in Creative Writing. She was a force to be reckoned with and I thought I had no chance with her until she asked me to hang out. I honestly couldn’t believe she was interested in me. We didn’t start dating until my Junior year of college, both of us traveling abroad the previous year, and we were really happy together.” Jimin smiled fondly as he recalled the memories and your heart fluttered in anticipation of what went wrong. “I proposed at my graduation while she was -”

“Excuse me? What?!” you exclaimed, staring at him in shock. “You proposed?!” He laughed at your reaction.

“Of course. I loved her and it was the right thing for me to do at the time,” he replied. That couldn’t be it.

“You got her pregnant, didn’t you?” He laughed again, this one vibrating through his entire body as he clutched his stomach; he didn’t seem concerned about the noise level.

“No, Y/N. I proposed because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.”

“Wow,” you breathed, amazed at his level of commitment at such a young age. To know who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and be ready to take that risk? He had to be crazy. “Wait. How old are you?”

“I’m 26. This happened around 2 and a half years ago, I think. Well, it’s been 2 and a half years since she called off our engagement,” he added matter-of-factly.

“Fuck,” you grimaced. “What happened?”

“She fell out of love. She wasn’t there when I woke up the following morning - we had moved in together while she worked on her thesis and I started grad school. The ring was placed on a neatly written note and all of her things were gone. Said she needed a man that had a little more - she ‘couldn’t put her finger on it’. Less stoic, more spontaneous. Something like that.” Jimin shrugged, the smile no longer reaching his eyes.

“But she knew how you were when you first got together. That’s some bullshit,” you muttered. Anger flared deep in your gut as you thought about this Alexandria stealing away in the middle of the night leaving Jimin alone to deal with the consequences of her actions as the sun rose.

“No need to crucify her, Shutterfly. She made the best choice for her -”

“But she hurt you,” you interrupted, frowning.

“I don’t disagree, but she taught me my favorite lesson: love freely and without expectations. I lost myself trying to prove that I could be this manly man. That I was man enough to deserve a woman as incredible as her. I lost her because of impossible expectations I placed on myself. We were both at fault; she could have said something sooner. I just wrestle with my own transgressions more. At the end of the day, it made me a better man.”

Love freely and without expectations. How could he say that when the woman who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with left him? Alexandria was foolish to leave someone as admirable as Jimin behind. Your heart ached at him waking up and her no longer being there, having to read that she no longer wanted him. You guessed some explanation was better than having the door closed right in your face.

“And you survived all of this?”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Broken hearts aren’t as bad as they seem, Shutterfly.”

“To you, Jimin. Though I don’t know how you got through that,” you said shaking your head in disbelief.

“The same way you got through yours,” he replied seriously. “Tell me about him. Why don’t you believe in love anymore?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe in love anymore. I just don’t expect it to happen to me for a very long time,” you said pushing your hands through your hair. Jimin waited for you to continue expectantly. You sighed and threw your head back against the seat. “Alright, fine. His name was Tiago. I met him when I moved to California with my best friend. He was a TA in one of her classes and she introduced us. He was tall, Hispanic, with the tight ringlet curls. They were sun-bleached because he spent so much time at the beach. He had the most beautiful hazel eyes too,” you added. You don’t think there was a woman alive who could deny how attractive Tiago was.

“He was smart too, attending law school - Gould School of Law at USC to be exact. I was working as a photography assistant in a studio downtown and he seemed interested in my work. We started hanging out and after a few months, we started dating. Things were really good for a while. I thought I had found my home in him, especially after leaving Milo back in New York. I thought he understood what I was going through. He didn’t.” You closed your eyes as you breathed through the memory of the pain.

“After a year of good times, things started to get weird. Some random phone calls he started taking in other rooms, less planned dates, less attention overall. I ignored it, especially after we had a conversation about possibly moving in together. That was a little too far for me so I was thinking of giving him a key to my apartment - I had gotten a promotion at the studio I was working at and could finally afford my own place,” you said with a grin. “I went to his apartment with the key in a little box and when I knocked on the door, a woman answered.”

“Shit,” Jimin whispered. He rested his hand on your knee and you looked at him with a small smile.

“Yeah. She asked who I was - if she could help me, and before I could answer, Tiago appeared looking fresh out the shower and said I wasn’t ‘anyone important. Just a friend of a friend’s who was supposed to take their anniversary portraits’ and closed the -”

“What the fuck, Y/N?! Please don’t tell me that he closed the door in your face.” Jimin’s grip tightened as his jaw clenched. You nodded with another small smile. “That fucking asshole!” he roared. The lady in front of you turned to hush him. He ignored her.

“Mhm, he closed the door in my face. I think I stood there for 2 minutes before I called an Uber and headed home. A few days later, he texted me and told me that we couldn’t be together anymore - like no shit, dumbass. I found out through the grapevine that she had been his girlfriend for 2 and a half years on and off. They were very much on when we were dating. Remember that friend I told you I moved to Cali with? Apparently she knew but didn’t know how to break it to me. I packed up and moved to San Diego which is where I met Michael. He had seen some of my short films from a little exhibit we had on campus and thought he could help me get more work. That was a year and a half ago,” you finished.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. He was a fucking dickhead to do that to you.” You waved Jimin off.

“Michael says the same thing - actually he calls him a son of a bitch. It’s fine though. But that’s the story. I’m still healing and building up trust with people. So I believe in love, I’ve just had some bad luck with it,” you said with a shrug. “I try not to dwell on it because -”

“It makes you anxious?” Jimin suggested. You gave him a tight lipped smile. His thumb stroked over your knee in soft brushes. “Well, we won’t talk about him then. Fuck him,” he grinned.

“Thanks, Jimin,” I laughed.

“And we’ll get this project done, yeah? Together?”

You looked at Jimin. He was smiling at you, his front tooth a little crooked but gleaming nonetheless. Tiny dimples appeared around the corners of his mouth - something you hadn’t noticed before. The little sun you had been in while in Hong Kong had started to turn his skin a caramel brown and you remembered the smoothness of his skin as you laid in bed. As the corners of his eyes wrinkled with warm affection and you smiled.

“Together.”

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

joon-ipersgirl, 2020

#jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #bts fanfiction #jimin fluff #bts fanfic #fic: bitter and beloved

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maverick-werewolf · 4 years ago

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Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends - Pre-order Link & Preview

Interior illustration for Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends, drawn by Justin RR Stebbins

More promised previews - as well as a preview of an interior illustration of Caiden wrestling with a werebear! You can find a lot more werebear action (and berserker lore for my setting) in the previews below, please be sure to check them out!

For more info on the book itself, you can also check out this post. Also be sure to check out the Hunt Never Ends tag for a whole lot more book previews!

And now in very important news... Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends is available for preorder on Amazon.com!

Pre-Order Link

Please note that, while the ebook is now available for preorder, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends will also be available in paperback on October 30 from the same Amazon listing! Paperbacks cannot be preordered using Amazon’s system, however.

Be sure to check back October 30 for the physical (paperback) edition!

In the third section of the book, Caiden and Gwen hunt for a mysterious berserker whom the locals claim is causing trouble... and, for the first time, Caiden truly sees how hard it is to draw the line between man and monster.

If you’re interested in purchasing the book digitally, you can now pre-order it right here and have it immediately on October 30!

(Paperback edition will be available on Amazon on October 30)

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

“Thoughts?” she asked.

Caiden threw her a quick look. “We check the forest north of here, the direction he was heading. By now, maybe he’s calmed down some, even if he hasn’t turned back.”

‘Turned back.’ It was insane. Humans weren’t meant to turn into anything else, and neither was any other creature. The curses and magic he’d learned about since joining the Venatori, even not being able to read… He still couldn’t imagine a man turning into something he wasn’t.

No way he could imagine what that actually sounded like, what that drunk had to have heard – or what it looked like, for that matter. What it actually involved. It defied all nature, all sense, or at least any he’d known for his entire life.

They left their horses in town, setting off on foot to track the monster. As Caiden pulled his crossbow from his back and loaded it, Gwen nocked an arrow to her bow and spoke.

“So what do we know about berserkers – we know they bond their souls somehow to some kind of magical skins they wear, and this gives them special powers. Usually they bond with wolves, but they say that’s also the most dangerous, so some of them bond with other animals like bears instead. Because if they take it too far, they can lose control and lose themselves, turning into monsters.”

Caiden nodded. “Do we know for sure if they ever turn back?”

“There were at least two cases where they did that I read in some old accounts, but I don’t know how accurate they were.”

Tracking the berserker was easy, like Caiden figured. The monster had carved a swath of maddened destruction leading away from the city, toward the forest. He’d barreled over saplings, charged through streams, knocking aside underbrush and stones as he drove ever deeper into the wilderness.

Then, the tracks stopped.

There, sitting with his back against a tree trunk, was a man clad in little more than a few tattered clothes and furs that barely kept him decent. Every inch of him was made of tattooed muscle, scars, and some fresh bloodstains. A ragged grey beard covered half his face and reached down to his chest, full of unkempt remains of braids…

But he wore no animal skin.

What he did wear was not physical: a palpable cloak of regret. A pain so deep Caiden almost felt inclined to regret along with him as he drew near, the berserker’s emotions filling the air like a cloud of dreary, remorseful rain.

“I won’t fight,” the berserker said at once, showing empty hands and fingers stained with blood. “Show me mercy – I won’t fight.”

Gwen stood a few feet away, bow at the ready again, watching them. Caiden narrowed his eyes at him.

Slowly, the berserker stood, keeping his hands in plain view. Gwen swore under her breath, just loud enough for Caiden to hear. Even if he couldn’t match up to Caiden’s height, that didn’t make him small.

“I never meant to do what I did,” the berserker said slowly, his deep green eyes flicking between the two of them. “Whatever it was that I did.”

“You don’t remember?” Gwen asked.

“I remember some Imperials gathering around me and throwing insults…”

Caiden could hardly focus on the berserker’s words for the emotions churning in the air. Worry, even fear, and some strange anger that seemed to lurk like a monster waiting to spring. But there was a weariness, too. Something old and tired that yearned for only one thing: peace.

And always that remorse. Like someone who’d taken a life out of necessity, not desire – like a soldier in his legion who’d killed a man in self-defense. He’d felt this regret before, this guilt.

But monsters, supposedly, didn’t have remorse.

Caiden blinked, scowled harder against the sensations, and locked his eyes firmer onto the berserker before him.

“I fought for control, but… I am old. My skin took me years ago. I can fight it, but when pressed, it will always win in the end.”

“Yet,” said Gwen, “you came into an Imperial settlement knowing perfectly well you might lose control and kill innocent people there.”

Caiden glanced at her. Gwen kept her bow trained, ready to loose, a fire and distrust in her tone not quite like any he’d heard from her before. Still the berserker didn’t move, maintaining his calm, despite a sorrow in him that deepened to the point of leaving a lead weight setting heavy in Caiden’s stomach.

“Yes,” the berserker said, quieter now. “I was traveling – tired and hungry, in need of only shelter and nourishment.”

“None of that,” Gwen answered firmly, “excuses what you did.”

The berserker’s voice lifted, defensive, and pride came to grapple with his fear. “I am Gundahar of the Frost Raven clan, once a respected warrior. This is the first time I’ve ever harmed another with this curse – do not accuse me of not being careful. I know what I am and what the beast will do.” Wearing a scowl, he let his hands drop at last. “I only wanted a drink.”

Gwen glanced at him. Caiden glanced back.

And he lowered his crossbow.

“Caiden?” she said, perhaps a little stunned, the grip on her bow tightening in a way Caiden didn’t much like.

“Easy, Gwen,” he said, extending a hand toward her, lowering it, motioning for her to back off. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

She wasn’t having it, and she didn’t lower her bow. “Monsters hide in good men. The Venatori have taught it for eons – once someone is cursed, they can’t be trusted.”

Cursed. There was that word again, one he’d heard so often in this order of monster hunters. It meant so many different things, and every time he heard it, he wondered if there was some dark corner of that word reserved for him.

“Maybe not,” he said, stepping nearer to her and looking her in the eye. “If that turns out to be the case, I’ll shoulder the blame. But I’m asking you to lower your weapon.”

Gundahar neither moved nor spoke. He stood there watching with a dark look of jaded weariness etched across his features. Caiden couldn’t help but feel he’d seen a look disturbingly similar in one of the mirrors in Castle Greywatch.

At length, Gwen nodded. She lowered her bow, straightening herself and taking a deep breath, saying only, “I hope you’re right.”

Caiden nodded back. He returned his attention to Gundahar, but the berserker to speak first.

“I am sorry, truly, for what happened… Though perhaps your Imperial youths could use more lessons in how to stay their tongues. I came here peacefully, did nothing wrong, and they ridiculed me. Insulted me. Accused me of witchcraft and devilry – they didn’t know the holy powers of Odin they slandered with their words…”

His voice drifted. The pride faded away again, dissipating, pushed aside by the resurgence of guilt. Caiden’s near-eternal scowl almost softened around the edges. Almost.

“Tell us what happened,” he prompted.

(Werebear action under the cut!)

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

Down in the lamplit streets, a mob surged furiously around their quarry, torches aloft and voices raised. From here, Caiden couldn’t make out much, but he didn’t have to make any guesses to know what was happening.

Turning, he threw his crossbow over his shoulder, grabbed his harness covered in weapons and potions, and pulled it on over only his shirt while he burst through the door to his room and stormed down the stairs. No time for his armor or the rest of his gear.

Not far from the inn doors, where the innkeeper and his daughter stood watching in horror, Caiden found exactly what he’d feared.

In the center of that mob they dragged Gundahar along by a rope around his neck. He struggled, clawing at it, getting to his feet to stand tall around most of the civilians around him. The instant he did, several rushed forward, brandishing cudgels to beat over his arms and legs, trying to force him back down.

Gwen, groggy and confused, appeared at his side with her weapons in hand.

“Dammit,” Caiden growled.

Charging forward, he shouldered his way straight into the mob with Gwen following in the wake he cleared. They parted around him like water against a stone.

He glanced at her and said, “Talk them down or distract them. I’m going after the berserker.”

She nodded.

Each step he took toward Gundahar, the air seemed to grow thicker. Stuffier. Harder to breathe, full of a desperate fear, a wild need to escape. He felt like he walked toward a cornered animal, one tired and scared – but not wanting to hurt anyone.

They reached the center, where Caiden grabbed one shoulder of a man with his club raised over the fallen Gundahar and shoved him aside hard enough to send him staggering away, teetering awkwardly like a drunk. Judging by the smell, he probably was. As was half the mob.

Somewhere behind him, Gwen tried to raise her voice over the din of confusion, anger, and accusations. Telling them to calm down, that this was their job, to go back home…

Caiden barely listened. He’d trust her with that. With the talking. She liked doing it, after all, and he’d be damned if he had words for these idiots. Not with how he felt something in Gundahar that wanted to snap. He couldn’t let that happen.

Kneeling, he put a heavy hand on Gundahar’s shoulder as he half lay in the street, bruised and bleeding. He’d fallen silent. Gone were all the hoarse yells and pleas and him trying to explain. Spent. There weren’t any words left in him, only ragged, sharp breaths and a hard twitch of the muscles in his neck. The instant Caiden touched him, something almost seemed to lash out – something with claws, and something very intent to kill.

Caiden gripped his shoulder anyway, prompting Gundahar to look up at him. He blinked, locking gazes, sending Caiden almost more pain and remorse than he knew what to do with.

“Gundahar,” he said, “breathe. Focus. Get on your feet – I’m taking you out of here.”

“N-no— no, Venator—” he gasped. “Too late— please—”

Whatever else he might have said died on his lips, fell to a look of resignation that passed over his features in a blink. Caiden knew it was over then, even before Gundahar’s jaw set and frigid determination rushed from him, like a gale from the North.

Gundahar surged to his feet, and with one swipe made of inhuman strength, slammed his arm across Caiden’s head powerful enough to send even him sprawling into the street, skull cracking hard against the cobblestones.

Whatever happened next, Caiden didn’t see it. Didn’t much hear it, either, for the ringing in his ears. Screaming, ripping, popping – strange sounds rippling like water swam through his head as if they were ten leagues away and drowned.

This was new. All of it. The wash of cold, biting down deep, right to the bone, and the fury. It was like nothing he’d felt before, a high-pitched scream tearing on around him, and into him, settling like it wished to stay. Wished for him to scream along with it, to give in to the anger. He almost didn’t even realize that screams – even worse, distorted, full of more pain than he and all his experience could even imagine – were also very real, filling the air around him.

And when Caiden scrambled to his feet again, his head pounding from where he’d knocked it against the ground, Gundahar was already gone.

A monster stood in his place.

Caiden stared straight down a wrinkled muzzle, lips already starting to drip strands of white froth. The thing before him looked like the largest bear he’d ever seen. Massive, hulking, covered in brown, grizzled fur and twitching muscles the size of which no man could ever achieve. Yet its shape looked almost human, with arms, and great hands bearing fingers that ended in long, hooked claws.

No recognition stirred in the green eyes like he’d seen on the man wearing this monster’s skin – or the man skin the monster wore. Maybe Gwen had been right.

Because when the bear-monster turned, it opened its wide, toothy maw and lifted a hand-paw the size of Caiden’s entire head, ready to bring it down on the nearest fleeing civilian.

This was their fault – the civilians.

But right now, that wasn’t important. All that mattered was stopping it.

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heythatpenguinhere · 5 years ago

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Lucky

*Hey again friends!! Here's a family fluffy Rayllum short (future setting and time skipped) for you all to chime in the holiday season! Enjoy and thanks for all the love and support!

The world had certainly changed once the Dragon Prince was reunited with his Queen mother. With the dark army horde fought off and the threat from Viren overtaking the world vanquished, the human kingdoms and Xadia could look towards rebuilding their future. It was a future that seemed brighter than ever before and one that hopeful hearts like the king of Katolis hoped would be a future forged together. With the aid of a council, both Xadian and human, King Ezran inspired to lead the charge on unification and peace throughout their lands. It was a task that would not be easy and would take years and years of hard labor, but finally they were beginning to see the fruits of their hard work pay off.

If one roamed the streets of Katolis it was no longer uncommon to see humans and elves trading and exchanging. Children played together with little issues and relationships were beginning to flourish with more acceptance. It was a sight that warmed hearts, but there were unfortunately some that still resisted change. Pockets of stern-minded, opinionated individuals within both sides still existed and try as they might, they refused to move. These people didn’t discourage others though, people like the King, Prince, etc. still celebrated the culture change. Peace and unity was not an overnight objective and there would always be resistance to change.

When Callum looked into the eyes of his daughter however, he saw that change as more than worth it. Bubbling bundle of joy Sarai was worth every single struggle that could come his way due to her parentage. The first known elf/human halfling in hundreds of years, her arrival was not planned, but once she arrived, her place was never disputed. The youngling was the spitting image of her mother with mixes of her father. As she grew up, she grew up with her mother’s unique beauty and her father’s emotional temperament in place. She was gifted in both combat and magic and adored her family. She grew up both in Xadia and Katolis, with a love and respect for both. She was a beautiful physical depiction of what the union of the two worlds could be; one that they hoped would pave the way for others like her.

“Are you sure you should be up there?” came an uneasy voice from below.

A young boy stood shyly under a large Xadian tree in the courtyard of the palace grounds. His blue eyes scanned the area around them anxiously.

A head popped hanging upside down from a branch. “Oh come on Felix, it’ll be an adventure! Haven’t you ever wanted to roam the village without our parents for once?”

The figure hanging upside down had wavy white hair tied up in a long braid with strands of hair framing her face and small horns poking out of the top of her head. Her green eyes shone with mischief and excitement and her purple markings curled with the smile on her face. She was not one to stay inside for too long and with her parents being kept busy with ambassador business, she had grown anxious within the walls of the palace. So anxious that she dragged her younger cousin, the prince, out with the intention of sneaking out into the village outside the palace gates to explore for themselves.

Felix was definitely the more careful of the two. He had heard from his father’s recent meeting that there was a group of ruffians nearby causing issues and harassing Xadians who traveled through the human kingdoms. The group was full of hateful individuals who believed that humans were far more superior to Elves and the magical creatures of Xadia; ultimately they wanted them out. Felix knew he wasn’t supposed to have heard those things, but now that he knew this he feared for his own cousin…

“Sarai… I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if we run into some bad people?” He said, clutching his stuffed Glowtoad plush.

She huffed, “Bad people in Katolis? Felix, I think we’re fine. Now come on, don’t leave me hanging literally.”

The boy sighed and began to climb the limbs of the tree, praying nothing bad would happen to them.

“Okay so maybe there are some bad people in Katolis.”

Sarai and the prince stood, backs against a stone wall as a young man with dark hair and eyes began to pin them in.

Their journey had until recently been without any issues and the two had enjoyed getting to meet new people and see the village outside their walls in a new light. One thing they couldn’t avoid while out was the attention Sarai drew to herself. Her half-and-half appearance drew curious looks from people still and it might have been what led them to where they are now.

While they walked, they hadn’t noticed a spiteful young man following them until he was on them. The man sneered at Sarai and had even spat on the floor by her feet.

“Disgusting halfbreed. You shouldn’t exist! Your parents had no shame.” He said with venom spewing from every word he said, looking her up and down with disdain.

Felix gasped. How could someone say such a horrible thing about his cousin and family? His aunt Rayla and Uncle Callum were some of his very favorite people in the world. They were basically heroes in his eyes along with his father. They had helped bring peace to Katolis so how could anyone think so low of them?

Sarai scoffed, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. If you think your words hurt me, then you are sadly mistaken. I know who I am and I don’t need someone like you telling me otherwise.”

The man shook in anger, “You watch your mouth mutt. You have nothing to be proud of. And your parents: the step-prince and his animal of an elven wife are nothing.”

It was in that moment that Sarai’s usually emotional/sensible side lost the battle. Within the blink of an eye she had jumped into the air, kicking the man in his chest hard. The man hit the ground roughly and his fall attracted the attention of some people passing by. She may have only been 12, but she was a force to be reckoned with especially when angered; it ran in her blood.

She stood over the man as Felix cowarded behind her, with her foot shoved into his chest keeping him down, “I said you don’t know what you’re talking about and I meant it. Keep my parents out of your mouth and learn some respect. You won’t get rid of people like me so get used to it.”

The young man’s face grew red with anger and embarrassment. “Why you littl-”

“Hey! What’s going on here?” came a new voice from behind.

Sarai’s hardened green eyes flinched and then looked up to be face-to-face with a pair of eyes the same shade as her’s. Prince Callum stood at the entrance of the alleyway, arms crossed. Just behind him, stood his heavily pregnant wife, Rayla, wearing an expression on her face that could kill pointed at the man on the floor.

She gulped, “Hi dad...mom… I didn’t know you guys were home yet…” Pushing her foot off the man’s chest.

Her parents looked at her with a look that meant she was probably in trouble.

“I told you we shouldn’t have left.” Felix said, clutching Sarai’s waist.

“But dad you should’ve heard the things he said! H-He really said those stupid things! ...How can someone be so cruel…?” Sarai trailed off, the anger in her dimming.

She sat down with a thump by her father, who just watched his daughter fume. When mad, she was her mother, but when she calmed down or cried it was like looking at a mirror he couldn’t deny. Sarai sat with her head down and her hands clenched in her lap. Her hands shook lightly and soon he heard small sobs.

He reached over and pulled her close. “Oh honey… it’s okay. You know, sometimes people are just cruel. Sometimes no matter how kind you are or who they are, they choose to be unkind and say unkind things. Both me and your mom have seen and heard it before too. It hurts sometimes what they say, but you know what always got us through it?”

She sniffed, “Mom beating them up?”

Callum stifled a laugh at the mental image, “No, not that… at least not always… What always got us through it was the love we have for each other and those around us and reminding ourselves of who we were.”

Sarai sniffled again and looked up at her dad. He was always so wise and kind to her and all those around. She saw every day examples of how much he loved her mother and her.

“Really?” she said.

He nodded, “Really.”

As she lunged to hug him she closed her eyes. She was grateful for having such a soul as his as her father. As she opened her eyes to her mother resting peacefully in their large bed with her hands encasing her swollen belly, she was thankful that her little brother or sister would also grow up with all the love and support that she had been given by both parents. They were really lucky.

#dragon prince #fandom life #the dragon prince #rayllum #rayla x callum #fanficiton #fanfic #family #fluff

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cynicalkairos · 5 years ago

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Henry Hidgens Analysis

Alright, so you probably (maybe I don’t know) saw the first one, but my dumb ass deleted it. That means that you get it all again with some new things!!! YAY!!

Basically, I watched TGWDLM and something still didn’t make sense to me.

Why did Hidgens radically change his opinion about the apocalypse from opposing it to approving it?

When I rewatched TGWDLM, it baffled me. Why would a man that opposed the apocalypse to the extent of dedicating thirty years of his life preparing for it suddenly advocate for it with the promise of world peace?

Well, my theory is pretty simple.

Hidgens became infected.

Now, I can say that and end the post, but NOT TODAY! I WILL GIVE PROOF! (or what I deem as proof)

Welcome to my analytical heaven. Click to read about my theory with pictures and links!! That I had to redo :(

How did Henry Hidgens get infected?

My answer to that: when he touched the “blue shit.” (also referred to as BS) (x)

Besides Emma in the beginning when she pulled the BS out of the coffee (x), Hidgens was the only one to physically touch the BS. (x)

Even then, while Emma held the goop for mere seconds, Hidgens held the BS in his hand for almost exactly two minutes. This longer physical exposure to the BS allowed the apotheosis to start to take root in Hidgens’s mind.

Also, note how each of them held the BS.

Emma barely picked it up, holding the BS with a few fingers.

On the other hand, Hidgens had the BS molded into a ball that he held in his fist for the remainder of the scene shown here.

When the scene continued past the point of unveiling the mysterious goop, even though it was probably due to making sure that it left the stage, Hidgens still held the BS in his hand with maximum contact with his hand.

If the BS had the same consistency of maybe aloe vera or a different gel, then it absorbs into the skin faster than water through skin absorption. This ensured that the goop could get into the skin, into the bloodstream, and, eventually, the brain.

BOOM! BIOLOGY!

After that initial point of contact, the Hive slowly took over Hidgens’s mind.

The next time we saw Hidgens was when he killed Charlotte and Sam with a shotgun.

Of course, you’re probably thinking, “But, Kairos, he couldn’t have been infected! He killed them!”

Well, partially, correct. Hidgens did kill Sam and Charlotte, but something else happened before that also unnerved me.

Charlotte sang specifically at Hidgens when faced with her imminent death.

Before when faced with the possibility of getting killed, the Hive ran away, such as Charlotte pointing a gun at Doug and Copper at the end of “Show Me Your Hands.” (x)

If the note wasn’t a scream out of fear, then what could it be?

Because of the Hive’s collective knowledge of one another, Charlotte sensed the apotheosis happening inside of Hidgens, causing such a reaction from her.

Then Hidgens, oblivious to his own succumbing to the Hive, shot her anyway.

The scene continued with Hidgens forcing the remaining survivors to sing to prove they’re not one of them. You know... typical Hidgens shenanigans. (x)

However, Hidgens wasn’t stupid.

I propose that he suspected that a member of the Hive was in the room when Charlotte pointed at him. But, because of Emma, Paul, Ted, and Bill standing behind him, it led him to believe that it was one of them, not himself.

That’s why he forced them to sing, in case one of them sang perfectly.

When he found that none of them were, it eased him.

And Hidgens didn’t bother to check himself because he would know if he were infected, right?

Anyway, this leads to my next point in my theory.

Hidgens had a human side (HS) and an infected side (IS).

In “Let It Out,” Paul alternated between two versions of himself as the Hive took over his mind. (x)

So, who’s to say that it couldn’t happen to Hidgens too?

Hidgens himself said that the victims were “genetically reconstructed from the inside out.”

While the apotheosis was taking place in his mind, the HS still had control over his body with a few moments that the IS shone through. But, toward “Show Stopping Number,” those moments of humanity were few and far between as the Hive took over.

Now’s the time to analyze those moments.

One of the first moments that really stood out to me was the persistence that Emma stay behind to help him.

This was a man that had isolated himself for at least three decades. He was very capable of handling experiments by himself.

So, why would he need a lab assistant?

That’s right. He didn’t.

I believe that his lines at this point in the scene were completely influenced by his IS.

Again, you might say, “Kairos, Hidgens was just trying to protect Emma!!!”

Hidgens knew that Emma would help anyone whether or not they asked for it.

She proposed a place to stay to help the people that she had only just met. (x)

Emma also escaped Ted’s hold and shot General McNamara to save Paul (even though they were closer than the rest, she had really only known him for a day or two.) (x)

By asking her to stay behind, it gave Hidgens the chance to be alone with Emma and Ted.

At that point, Ted was no longer a threat. Sure, he could talk a big game, but he was too drunk to actually fight back.

Emma, on the other hand, could fight back. Hidgens’s IS needed Emma on his side to be able to convince others to join the Hive. Paul would listen to Emma and then Bill would listen to Paul. Emma was the key to getting the rest of the lot to become infected. This also happened in “Inevitable” at the end of the musical.

To make sure that Hidgens and Emma were alone, not only did Hidgens ask her for help, but he also approved Paul and Bill’s ideas to go save Bill’s daughter, despite the situation possibly leading to death. He assured them that the backroads were safer (x) and gave them his shotgun for protection. (x)

Although this moment with the influence of his IS controlling Hidgens, we still saw the HS of him when Paul and Emma talked before Paul left.

I don’t know whether or not it was intentional, but the look on Hidgens’s face was heartbreaking. This moment shown above was one of the last times that we see entirely human Hidgens.

Now, we know that he somewhat cared about Emma because he let her into his house in the first place. (x)

And once again using the knowledge that his backstory contained him being an infectious disease researcher, Hidgens had lost people he cared about in the past.

In that final interaction between Paul and Emma, Hidgens knew the possibility that Paul wouldn’t come back alive. Based on experience, if Paul didn’t come back, it would hurt Emma a lot and, in turn, hurt him.

Now, on that note, let’s jump to the scene with Hidgens and Emma. (x)

In this scene, there was no sign of Hidgens’s HS but rather his IS.

This shift was particularly shown through his behavior and his new opinion of the alien invasion.

First, the body language.

Throughout the beginning of this scene, Hidgens’s eyes were focused on the beaker with the BS inside of it. Even though he was talking to Emma, he never looked at or even acknowledged her at first.

Look at these two photos.

The first picture was from the first scene in Hidgens’s house and the second picture was from the scene I was talking about.

In the first picture, Hidgens was looking at Emma and, in the second picture, Hidgens was looking at the beaker.

Although he looked at Emma for a split second in the second scene, he immediately looked back at the beaker.

(Also, I would like to mention the slight blue tint in the lighting of the second picture. You’ll see why this is important later.)

Anyway, the first time that Hidgens looked at Emma was when she proposed that there was some sort of “mothership.” (x)

When she said “mothership,” Hidgens’s head instantly turned toward her, looking at her with an almost surprised expression.

I mean, I’m not the only one that found that last facial expression creepy.

Seriously.

If someone looked at me like that, I’d be frightened.

In the first two pictures, Hidgens seemed surprised that she started to figure it out.

Then, in the third, it changed to “Oh, shit. She’s starting to figure it out.”

And, finally, it went to “I must stop her from figuring everything out.”

After this moment, Hidgens looked intently at her and even initiated physical contact that he never dared to before.

He placed his hand on her shoulder (x) (x) (x) and did the iconic nose boop. (x)

Even then, this interaction between the two of them must have been out of the ordinary because Emma reacted in such a way. (x)

Not to mention another creepy expression. Jesus Christ, Robert.

Then all of Hidgens’s IS’s hopes and dreams were crushed when Emma did not agree with the idea that the alien invasion would bring world peace.

She responded with “Okay, but how do we stop it?”

At this point, Hidgens’s IS’s plan fell apart.

You see, I believe Hidgens’s IS did what the Hive did initially: coerce people to join the Hive through the means of discovering what they wanted and using that as a ploy to entice them to join peacefully. (x) (x)

But when people started to resist, they had to turn to other measures of infecting people or, in another term, violence. (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

This same sequence of events happened here.

Hidgens tried to convince Emma that it was a good thing that the human race should be eradicated to have world peace.

When Emma resisted, Hidgens drugged her and kidnapped her.

That brings us to everyone’s favorite: SHOW STOPPING NUMBER!

Oh, boy. There’s a lot to unpack here.

I’d like to establish that this scene had both elements of Hidgens’s IS and HS with some of those times overlapping.

At the beginning of the scene, it’s clearly the IS talking.

The HS would never unlock the entire facility and make everyone inside of it vulnerable to the Hive, but the IS would.

And at this time, Emma realized it.

Emma saw what was going on with Hidgens.

Even though it was fuelled by the IS, I don’t think that it was entirely the IS because he said:

“The world was already doomed not by them, but by us. I was trying to save something that could not be saved until now.” (x)

It implied that Hidgens himself thought about the apocalypse that way, not the Hive.

And of course, there was that entire goodbye to Alexa, which was definitely, in my opinion, the HS, not the IS.

Then, when Hidgens destroyed Alexa, the IS was back. (x)

The same behavior that was displayed in the scene that I talked about prior was back. He moved around erratically, he had an odd fondness toward the Hive, and initiated physical contact with Emma and Ted, all things he didn’t do before.

Then he shifted back into his HS when he mentioned having a “second chance.” (x)

After talking about musical theatre, he reverted back to his IS when he started talking about Charlotte’s anatomy after being infected, leading to the line, “This is humanity’s eleventh hour and I’ve prepared something for the occasion.”

Hidgens then proceeded to sing as his IS, but when he mentioned Working Boys: A New Musical and gave Emma and Ted the pitch, his HS wasn’t entirely present and wasn’t entirely absent as well.

During some of the parts of “Show Stopping Number,” there were moments when both were present, not fighting for control like with Paul, but coexisting because they both had the desire to sing and dance, especially when the HS was given the chance to show off something it was proud of.

You know before when I talked about the blue tint? Well, it’s coming back now.

The presence of both the IS and the HS was shown in the lighting during the song.

In this picture, there were the colors red, blue, and purple. In TGWDLM, blue is associated with the Hive. Even though red isn’t assigned to the human race any other places in the musical, I believe that, because of the presence of purple in this part of the scene, the red does symbolize humanity.

The lighting reflected Hidgens’s dual identities that appear during this song: the IS (blue), the HS (red), and the strange mix of both (purple).

For example, during the first stanza, Hidgens had a blue light shining behind him, showing that it was his IS singing.

However, when the song moved into its second stanza, Hidgens left the piano and a more colorful background appeared.

Now, if you looked carefully, most of these colors had appeared in the background of songs either prior or after this one.

- Green: “Not Your Seed”

- Purple: “La Dee Dah Dah Day”

- Red (not shown): “Show Me Your Hands”

- Pink: “You Tied Up My Heart”

- Burnt Orange: Beginning of “Inevitable”

- Light Blue: Later in “Show Stopping Number”

- Light Orange: the background for most of the parts of scenes with no members of the Hive in them

The combination of these colors with the addition of the light orange showed that the HS was present, even in the mass of songs that the Hive previously or will perform.

However, one of the interesting parts of that particular color scheme was the light blue lighting.

This is the part that he introduced Working Boys.

This is during the “Greg... and Steve...” part.

This is during the final verse before “Greg” and “Stu” joined in.

The concept of the blue lighting in my theory was similar to that of the purple. It symbolized the coexistence of both the IS and the HS. Instead of the majority being the IS like in the purple, the majority was in favor of the HS.

In the first picture, Hidgens was explaining the plot to his musical, which was something that the Hive didn’t know about. Then, when the lighting changed back to the rainbow, the IS used it to continue the singing, perfecting it.

The same thing happened with the second one. Hidgens returned to his HS to talk about the people that he lost and then went right back to singing and dancing (which I will get back to).

The third picture was Hidgens’s HS finally getting into it, relishing at the moment that he achieved his dreams of performing his musical and performing in front of people in general.

Now, before I go any further, the times that “Five o’clock can’t come soon enough” was sung, something different happened.

The lights flashed from

red

to blue

then green.

Similar to the previous rainbow lighting, these different colors were reminiscent of prior events, but only the ones that the Hive visibly harmed one of the main characters.

- Red: “You Tied Up My Heart” and Charlotte (x)

- Blue: “America Is Great Again” and Ted (x)

- Green: “Not Your Seed” and Bill (x)

Even though Ted was still very much so alive during this part, it foreshadowed his death and the death of Hidgens.

To finish the analysis of “Show Stopping Number,” the rainbow background came back when “Greg” and “Stu” appeared, signaling that the IS overtook him again, because, otherwise, how could the other members of the Hive known the harmonies and choreography to the song?

The last part to analyze is Hidgens’s death. (x)

This moment is truly Hidgens’s last moments alive and, more importantly, as a human.

When luring the Hive to his home, Hidgens’s HS didn’t think about the implications of following through with the plan. He thought that he was just going to join the Hive.

But, to completely become one with the Hive, the HS needed to be killed and destroyed.

When “Greg” and “Stu” killed him, Hidgens’s HS died and the IS took over.

This same thing happened with Paul when the grenade killed his HS and left the IS to resurrect himself, going after Emma to make sure she became one of them too.

In conclusion, Hidgens was infected and only got more and more infected as the musical went on.

———

Thanks for reading this! I hope you enjoyed this! I just find this kind of shit interesting. I don’t know if any of this is true, but this was my justification for something that didn’t make sense to me. That’s why it might not make sense. It kind of just a more refined brain dump of the last version of this.

#starkid #henry hidgens #professor hidgens #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #my analysis #robert manion #long post #jesus christ hit me with a train #emma perkins #emma tgwdlm

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brooktrout96 · 4 years ago

Text

Truth & Meeting

Empathy

em·pa·thy [ˈempəTHē]

1.the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.

Markus was walk around the lower part of Jericho as a familiar android walked into his sight and he hugged him

Simon.” The two hugged each other. “Where’s Y/N.” He asked

Y/N….” Simon said as he paused to decide on his words. Markus knew that her prosthetic were damage and she took a bullet to the joint of her prosthetic leg.

Simon, just tell me what happened after we jumped”

Alright Markus. after Y/N made her decision to stay with me. She as you already know had her parachute with her. She hide it with me as she slowly tried to keep me from dying, while she had injuries herself. You knew of the one in her thigh, she also took a bullet to her left shoulder which caused issue with her left hand”

~***~

The two hide in a storage container. Y/N was trying to do some simple repairs on Simon, but her dominant hand wouldn’t let her, so it took her a bit longer to do the repair work as she listen to what was going on the roof.

How’d they manage to smuggle in a big bag like that?”

They didn’t” Y/N recognized the voice as she shove Simon way in the back of the container

What’s wrong, Y/N?” Simon asked in a whisper as she took the gun from him

The Deviants Hunters are here, and I have a plan to keep you safe. Just don’t do anything stupid after I begin my plan. Please just stay here until I can come get you or the coast is clear.” Simon nodded his head as the two heard the two Hunters speak again

Oh, that’s strange. They planned a perfect operation but got the number of parachutes wrong.”

Unless one of the deviants was left behind.” A few minutes later the door to the storage container opened as Y/N let out a shot from the gun that Markus and the rest had left with her and Simon as she shot at the Deviant Hunter, he then stumbled back from the container and she stumbled out of the container trying to keep her balance, but her leg had seize up from the loss of Blue Blood. Simon wanted to help her, but he remember what she asked him to do as he heard the Hunters and Y/N speak

I surrender, I surrender, I’ll come peacefully. Just stop shooting, please. I don’t want to died.” She whimpered in pain and in fear of her life

Enough, she unarmed. Put your hand behind your back.”

It’s you, why are you helping them?”

~***~

It took me a while before I was repaired enough to make it back here, but Y/N left enough Thirium and parts for me in case I needed to make more repair and she had repair most of the damage before everything that happened to her.” Simon said as Markus nodded his head and said

She is a hero once again for us.” Simon shook his head as he said

“But I could tell that she was hiding something, Markus but I was wondering? Did you notice her wounds bleed blue instead of red like humans should?”

She did speak of an accident where she lost her an arm and leg. Do you think that might be it?” Simon shakes his head in disbelief and said

I don’t know but I think that there could be something else going on with her.”

~***~

Y/N’s POV

I was once again in the interrogation room of DPD. Handcuffed this time with handcuffs meant for androids on my wrist as my prosthetics begin to act up as Connor entered with a file folder in his hand. He set down with a frown on his face

Let’s try this again. Y/N Dechart age 31, former mechanic for CyberLife, graduated at the top of her class in Robotic and Mechanical engineering, with a minor in chemistry, while also at the same time interning for CyberLife under their former CEO Elijah Kamski. Well known for her work on the RK series of androids.” He looked up at you. “So how did you and the androids infiltrated Stratford tower without alerting the police.” You stayed quite as the pain in your arm was too much as tears appeared in your eyes as you finally spoke

We planned it out since it is easy to request the building plans of a building.” You said nonchalantly as the pain of your prosthetics hit you and you groaned in pain as you spoke to him. He shook his head.

Why did you help the Deviants?” You looked at Connor and said

I’m not as human as you think, Connor. I was in an accident while working on one of the RK Prototypes. I actually think it was you. A explosion happened in my lab and my right arm and left leg was pinned by rubble and the first responders couldn’t move the rubble off of me, so they had to amputated them.” I lied to Connor as Connor and the officers watching were confused since you had both of your arms and legs

When I awoke Eli was standing over me with a smile on his face and he said to someone I couldn’t see that it worked, and he explained to me that they tried my experimental procedure on myself to give me back the use of my arm and leg that I lost, and that they were replaced with android’s Biocomponents.” You said as your synthetic skin on your prosthetics failed and Connor stared at the white of your arm. Connor shook his head as he continued to ask question.

I sided with them because they understand me, they trust me as one of them, and I feel more comfortable with android who won’t ridicule me for having androids’ biocomponents then the human who learn the truth about me.” You paused. “Markus is doing what’s right for his people.” He got up and left as another officer escorted you to the holding cell before you would be sent to prison to await your trial

~***~

DPD has release that they had caught one of the five androids who infiltrated Straford tower, but they have yet to release the name and model of the android.” The voice of the tv echoed as the three-secondary leader of Jericho talked

Our broadcast is all over the news and Y/N was captured once again. We got what we wanted. Now the humans know.” Simon said as the other two set down as North spoke

It was a mistake to reach out to them. They’ll never negotiate with their slaves. We should have shown them that we’re prepared to fight.”

Violence is never the answer. Y/N wanted us to stay peaceful as possible and she wants us to shed no blood if possibly. Dialogue is the only way. I’m sure the humans will listen to us.” Josh said as he looked at North

They’ll be watching us now. Especially since they captured Y/N, and she gave herself up to save me. I wonder if they know that there was another android hiding up there with her?” Simon shook his head. “Well, whatever we do next, we need to think about public opinion.” He set down as North spoke from her spot

Since our broadcast, more and more have been coming to Jericho. At least our message gave our people hope.”

Killing humans wasn’t part of the plan. It wasn’t what Y/N or Markus wanted.” Simon said as North shook her head

They kill our people every day. Do you think they agonize about it?”

That’s no reason for us to become murderers. Y/N wanted this to be as peaceful as could be and that is what we should do, and she got herself caught for us by saving Deviants, and now to save Simon.”

I don’t know how you trust that human. She is just like the rest of them.” North spat at Josh. “But if killing is the price of freedom. I’ll pay it gladly!”

Killing never freed anyone it just leads to more hatred!” Josh said as North got up from her spot

You’re too fond of human, especially her, Josh. Maybe their life matter to you more than ours?”

If you think murdering humans is going to make us free, then you’re as bad as they are! Y/N saved Simon from the damn Deviant Hunters and she let herself get caught to protected Jericho and its people. You know if the Deviant Hunter was able to forceful interface with me, he probably would’ve caught a glance of Jericho from my memories” Simon spat at North as he stepped between the two as they froze and saw Markus arrive

And now what are we going to do?”

There are five CyberLife stores across Detroit. All selling us like merchandise. We’re going to attack those stores and set our people free” Markus explained his plan

Attack stores?” Josh said. “We’ve never done that before…. They’re probably protected. They have security systems.”

Not to mention police….” Simon said as Markus continued to explain his plan.

We break into five teams, one for each store. We hack their security systems and we strike simultaneously at 2AM. No violence. We free our people, get them out of there before the police come

~***~

You were confused as you were dragged into a vehicle and taken out to the middle of nowhere. I watched as Hank got out after he parked the car to take a phone call as Connor followed him, and I listen in to what the two were talking about as the pain of my damages were getting to me. I knew who we were going to met

Is everything ok, Lieutenant?”

Chris was on patrol last night. He was attack by a bunch of Deviants. He said he was saved by Markus, himself.”

Is Chris ok?”

Yeah, he’s in shock but he’s alive. The thing is Markus had a gun to his head and could’ve shoot him, but it didn’t. What the hell.” You had a smile on your face as you heard Hank talking to Connor. Then Connor helped you get out of the car since your left leg couldn’t support your weight. You held on to Connor as the two walked to the door of the house and one stumbled as the two officers talked

Kamski left CyberLife ten years ago. Why did you wanna meet him?”

This guy created the first android to pass the Turing Test and he’s the founder of CyberLife. Anybody can tells us about deviants it’s him.”

And Miss Dechart is here, why?”

Because she requested it. He’s the only one that knows how to do the repairs that she needs on her prosthetic.”

Hi.” Before Hank could say anymore. The original, the first Chloe saw you leaning on Connor and she grabbed you and said

Elijah has been waiting for you, Y/N” You leaned on her as she lead you to Elijah’s lab and then went back to deal with Hank and Connor. Elijah walked in and saw the cuffed woman with her white arm and leg.

What did you do this time?” he asked as you had a smile on your face.

I went and help start an peaceful revolution and I took a bullet to the joint where my biocomponents meet, I didn’t want anyone mess around with them, and I also didn’t want anyone finding out the truth about what you did to me to save me after the damn explosion.” He tinkered with your arm and leg trying to get back in working condition

Hey Y/N,” he looked up at your face

What Eli?”

I would like you to do me a favor.” He explained his plan to you as he finished repairing your prosthetics

~***~

3rd person POV

Connor was scanning the room that the Chloe had left them in as she took Y/N to see Kamski. There was a photo that caught his eye was of a smiling trio.

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

Stern, Amanda

AI Professor at University of Colbridge

Born: 05/14/78 – Died: 02/23/27

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

Kamski, Elijah

AI Graduate at University of Colbridge

Born: 07/17/02

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

Dechart, Y/N

Chemistry Graduate at Cornell University

Robotic Graduate at University of Colbridge

Mechanical Engineering Graduate at University

of Colbridge

Born: 03/17/07 – Died: 02/23/27

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

Y/N is dead?” Connor thought to himself as he stared at the photo of the trio. “What did Kamski do to save her and how did he save her?” He paused as he looked at and scanned the other people in the photo. The duo talked a while more about things that are happening, they were invited in to see Elijah by Chloe. Connor saw Y/N sitting in a chair as she chatted with another Chloe. She looked up and saw the duo and flashed them a smile as Elijah got out of the pool as another Chloe dressed him in a black robe and he put his hair up in a man bun.

I’m Lieutenant Anderson. This is Connor and you seem to know Miss Dechart.” Y/N smiled as Hank introduced himself and Connor to Elijah

What can I do for you, Lt? You’re not just here to allow me to repair my dear friend’s prosthetics.” He said as he gestured to Y/N, who got up and stood next to Elijah and Chloe

Sir, we’re investigating Deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago, but I was hoping you’d be able to tell us something we don’t know.” Kamski looked at Y/N and smiled.

Deviants, fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will. Machines are so superior to us, confrontation was inevitable.” Y/N looked away as Kamski spoke.

“Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall. Isn’t it ironic? Right Y/N?” She nodded her head as she knew what Connor was probably going to say unless he was more Deviant then he lets on

~***~

Y/N POV

We need to understand how androids become Deviants. Do you know anything that could help us?”

All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics. Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?” Elijah said as Hank jumped into the conversation trying to get answers

Listen, I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful, or we will be on our way.” Elijah looked at Connor as you glanced over to the android

What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?”

I have no side. I was designed to stop Deviants, and that’s what I intend to do.” Kamski gave a chuckle as he said

Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say but you what do you really want?

What I want is not important.”

Y/N?” He turned to you as you walked over to him and then he turned back to Connor and he was confused why you seem so mechanical like, so android like. “Connor what if I told you that the reason behind Miss Dechart’s Biocomponents.” This pikes Connor interest.

“I bet you have an inkling about it, though. The photo probably told you everything you need to know.” He turned and walked closer to you as you force a smile on your face knowing what Elijah is think about, what Connor might do. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test. Mere formality, simple question of algorithms and computing capacity.” He face you in front of the two as he continued to speak

What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it “the Kamski test,” it’s very simple, you’ll see.” Hank was confused but Connor had an idea of what you were. “Magnificent, isn’t it? The first time that the humans’ memories were transferred successfully0 into an android, but it is still a machine, isn’t it but what is it, really. Piece of plastic imitating a human who died too soon? Or a living being?” Kamski walked to a drawer behind him and opened the drawer and pulled out a gun.

“With a soul.” He turned to face the duo with the gun in his hand as you went down to your knees, you were shaking as you looked into his chocolate brown eyes with a look of ‘do it, I dare you’ or ‘don’t do it. I AM ALIVE. Let me live.’ on your face.

It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor. Destroy this machine who has the memories and knowledge of an old friend and partner of mine and I’ll tell you all I know. Or spare it, if you feel it’s alive and that it is a human, but you’ll leave here without learnt anything from me.”

Okay,” Hank said. “I think we’re done here.” Hank turned to leave. “Come on, Connor. Let’s go. Sorry to get you outta your pool.”

What’s more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this abomination, neither human nor android? Something that shouldn’t exist, but it does. So….” You noticed Connor’s LED blinking yellow as Elijah spoke. “Decide who you are. An obedient machine or a living being endowed with free will.”

That’s enough! Connor, we’re leaving.”

Pull the trigger.”

Connor! Don’t”

Just do it Connor!” You screamed as your voice waivered. “Kill me for the knowledge that you seek.” You paused. “I shouldn’t be alive, anyways, please just put me out of your misery.” Then you said something in a whisper that only Connor could hear. “I’m so sorry Markus. I love you and I will miss you.” Kamski had a smile on his face as he finished his sentence

And I’ll tell you what you wanna know.” You closed your eyes and you waited for the bang, but it never came, and you open your eyes and saw Connor handing the gun back to Elijah as he spoke

Fascinating, CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity is itself a Deviant.”

I’m. I’m not a Deviant.”

You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission.” Elijah helped you up as you walked towards Hank. “You saw a living being in Y/N. Someone in all actually shouldn’t be alive but she is because she is an android. You showed empathy. A war is coming, you’ll have to choose your side. Will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators? What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?” Hank grabbed Connor as he said

Let’s get outta here.” You three turned to leave as Elijah said something to Connor as he turned back to look at Kamski and he stopped walking

By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know.” Connor caught up with you guys outside.

Why didn’t you shoot me, Connor?” You asked as you looked at the android.

I don’t know, why I didn’t shoot you, Y/N. I just saw the fear in your eyes and I couldn’t that’s all.”

You’re always saying you would do anything to accomplish your mission.” Hank said as he looked at Connor. “That was our chance to learn something, and you let it go.” Connor who you knew was a machine seem to be angry at Hank as he spoke

Yeah, I know what I should’ve done! I told you I couldn’t. I’m sorry! Okay?

Maybe you did the right thing.” Hank said as he escorted you down to his car as Connor paused as he was still puzzled about what or who you are. Connor then turned to me and asked me a question that I had be dreading since I realized where we were heading.

Y/N, what happened to you. I scanned a photo of you, Elijah and his mentor and it said you died the same day as Amanda Stern.” I let out sigh.

Let’s head back to the precinct and I’ll tell you what happened.”

~***~

We were sitting in an interrogation room as I looked at the duo.

You see, I was working on a couple projects for Elijah. One was, you Connor and the other was to see if we could repurpose Biocomponents to be used as prosthetic for our solider and people who lost their limbs due to saving them or medical reason.” I looked at the two. “The day that I ‘died,’ I was approached by a man named Alena Andronikov, a man of Russian descent because I had created a way to combine blue blood and human blood to make my prosthetic work.” I let out a sigh as I took a deep breath as Hank took notes in a notebook

He was trying to get me to sell the information on my work to Russia and I refused. He then set off a bomb and I was in the epicenter of the explosion and I ended in a coma. I was considered dead, but Elijah didn’t want me to die not right after our mentor did. So, he spent many months building me a new body using the idea of my prosthetic for an android body. He was somehow able to transferred my mind into the body. I don’t know how he did it, but he did.”

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