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crackspinewornpages · 2 years

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Ender’s Game 3/15 -Orson Scott Card

(if I have to read this tripe for class might as well get something useful out of it)

Two people, Graff and Anderson, (you know for quite a while it’s kept ambiguous who these observants are I guess for surprise factor or something) are discussing the titular character, his siblings failed but him, “He’s too malleable. Too willing to submerge himself in someone else’s will.” “Not if the other person is his enemy.”p.1 Surround him with enemies if they have to do it, they’ll do it to save the world.

Ender knows the nurse was lying when she said it wouldn’t hurt to take out the monitor. “Sometimes lies were more dependable than the truth.”p.1 He tried to imagine not feeling it on his neck anymore, his brother won't hate him for it anymore, he’ll be a normal kid. They’ll be brothers, but he’s too dangerous and angry to be friends. He’ll leave him alone, but Ender knew he wouldn’t, he’s seen it in his eyes.

When it was removed Ender felt pain running down his spine and he thrashed in agony. The doctor ordered muscle relaxants, after being injected he could cry out of fear. They checked him over and the doctor is appalled they put those in kids for years risking brain damage and death. (so the big brother military government puts these monitors in toddlers that connects to their brains and nervous system and is removed in a school nurse’s office with no anesthesia risking brain damage and death what if the prospecting kid had irreversible brain damage from this they just screwed themselves over this wasn’t really well thought out was it huh) After being observed for an hour he’s sent back to class and his teacher tells him to sit down as his classmates whisper his monitor’s gone.

Ender wasn’t paying attention to the lesson, (he’s so smart he doesn’t have to pay attention) doodling mountains when a word marched across his desk screen, Third. He was a Third, the government authorized it, now their experiment apparently failed, (how do you know it failed do you see any adults with them no then they have to get removed at some point) if they could they would erase him. (this isn’t that kind of dystopia) At the end of the day the students gathered their data and Ender didn’t leave until everyone else was gone but the bad ones were waiting. His monitor was gone and without it they could do what they liked without getting seen, he wouldn’t be rescued. (my guess is he wasn’t rescued before so what difference does it make)

Stilson called him Third and kept mocking him when he didn’t respond. (those adults that say ignore your bullies and they’ll get bored and go away that’s bullshit bullies want a response if you don’t give them one they’ll escalate) They started to push him around, “This would not have a happy ending. So Ender decided that he’d rather not be the unhappiest at the end.”p.5 He tried to stop Stilson’s aim and he takes it as a fight. Ender kicks him in the sternum knocking him down surprising Ender and he takes the opportunity. “I have to win this now, and for all time, or I’ll fight it every day and it will get worse and worse.” p.5 He knew only animals attacked when the enemy was down, he gives a don't mess with me speech and kicks Stilson in the face. (spoiler this kills Stilson but how most six yes Ender is six year olds don’t even weigh fifty pounds and they don’t know how to fight have you ever seen small children fight they might get a few weak punches in but most of it is rolling on the ground) Then he walked away and cried alone until the bus came, thinking he’s just like his brother.

Graff and Anderson talk about what just happened, not to psychoanalyze since they’re soldiers, (since when has the military ever cared about mental heath) Ender passed. He’s not afraid of what the brother will do, it’s a no risk business. Anderson couldn’t help but review the tapes and is worried. “I think we’re going to screw him up.” “Of course we are. It’s our job.”p.7 (spoiler Graff is an abusive asshole)

Valentine tells him she’s sorry, then Peter comes in, Ender didn’t see the golden child the adults saw, he only recognized his dangerous moods, like anger when he saw the monitor was gone. Valentine tried to placate but Peter wouldn’t, she lost hers at three, him at five, Ender didn’t say anything when Peter said they’re not watching them anymore. Mother’s gone and their father never answers calls, Peter’s in charge and forces Ender to play his games. (yeah the parents are latchkey absentee love at a distance why are they even here for all they give to the story parents but Peter is like what eleven shouldn’t they had at least hired a babysitter it’s later retconned they knew what was going on but I don’t believe it)

Astronaut vs Bugger, the ones playing the buggers never win and it sometimes got mean. In their home it started mean and was never over until the astronaut wanted it to be. “and the bugger couldn’t just go empty and quit the way buggers did in the real wars.”p.8 Their mother was upset and didn’t want them to play those games but their father argued for it. “Better to play the war games, and have a better chance of surviving when the buggers come again.”p.8 (you know how children play army and are given toy guns basically prepping them) Ender wonders if he’ll survive putting on the mask, wondering if buggers played similar games. (he tries to think like a bugger as foreshadowing how he can know his enemy)

Peter knocks him down and Stands on his pelvis and calls him a Third and presses his weight on his chest so he couldn’t breathe. He tells Ender he could kill him and pass it off as an accident, he’d be dead and everything would be fine. He really means it, they only authorized Ender because he was already promising but it didn't pan out. They think he’s better, he didn’t want a better brother, he didn’t want a Third. (you think Peter’s cruelty is built on resentment but when Ender is gone Peter just gets worse and better at hiding it)

Valentine threatens to tell, they won't believe her and threatens to kill her too. She points out he couldn't get away with it, Peter tells them they can't always be together, there’ll be an accident. Valentine says he doesn’t mean it since he wants to work in the government and he can't if they find out about this (well considering our current heads of government sibling murder wouldn’t be that shocking) and she bluffs about a secret file to be opened at her death. Peter threatens her to always watch Ender then, she replies they are smarter than him in some things, he’s just the biggest. He reminds her one day she won’t remember in time but he won't forget, even if it takes years.

He makes a move to her to make her flinch, (two for flinching) then falls back laughing at them. Ender thinks of what he did to Stilson but Valentine stops him. Ender shows Peter the blood on his shoe but Peter wasn’t fazed, nobody but Ender and Valentine knew he was a capable murderer.

When their parents got home, they were happy the government allowed them to have three children and wouldn’t take any. Ender wanted to shout he’s sorry they have three children with no explanation and is an embarrassment. (Ender you can clearly see your parents are happy they could have you and keep you) At night he hears Peter walk to his room and stand by his bed and thinks he’s going to kill him. “Ender, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know how it feels, I’m sorry, I’m your brother, I love you.”p.11 (does Peter really feel this as we see later he’s good at manipulation so probably not so what’s his goal) He could hear Peter sleeping again and thought of what he whispered and cried again that day.

Graff and Anderson discuss how Ender really loves his sister a weakness he won't leave her so they have to convince him, the truth if they have to. (these cut aways will later have a real mwah hahaha we’re evil tone)

Ender didn’t want to go to school to face Stilson after yesterday, their mother comments on her genius children, (this comes up because when told to eat Ender gesture to inject it into him WTF) Peter says they got the genes from her. The table beeped so someone was at the door, (why the table a regular doorbell could do it this is superfluous technology) the International Fleet. Peter tells Ender he’s in for it, they found out what happened at school, he’s a Third, he has no rights. Valentine looks worriedly at Ender and Peter’s a snot saying they realized it was really him that was the best.

Their father calls Ender in and their mother is anxious over what happened, (this happened yesterday outside of the school you think they would have been informed but no gotta make it a surprise) his father calls it an unfair fight. (yeah a gang of kids against a smaller than average six year old is unfair) The officer asks if he can explain, he wouldn’t but would take the punishment. The officer says it looked like he enjoyed it, he didn’t, why did he do it, his gang was there, doesn’t excuse it. Then why kick him when he was down, “Knocking him down won the first fight. I wanted to win all the next ones, too. So they’d leave me alone.”p.14 Her cries again in front of his parents and military, it was worse. (I know he’s six and feeling like shit but he’s just a downer all the time)

Colonel Graff introduces himself and invites Ender to Battle School. The final test was to see what he’d do with the monitor off, the Stilson boy died, that’s why he passed. (because the army wants emotionally unstable murderers) He’s already given consent by being born, he’s been theirs if he’s qualified. His father is appalled they’d make them think they didn’t want him then take him away. It depends on Ender; the parents already consented the risk of his conception. “Conscripts make good cannon fodder, but for officers we need volunteers.”p.15 (doesn’t matter how good you are if you’re drafted you don’t rise in ranks we just needed more fresh meat at the front lines)

That’s what the Battle School is for, the ones that end up as commanders is classified but all received an officer commission. All who want to make it through the first year do, Ender almost said yes but it would mean leaving his parents and Valentine. He also doesn’t like fighting, Peter’s kind, “the strong against the weak, and he didn’t like his own kind either, the smart against the stupid.”p.15 (because no one can be strong and smart or weak and stupid)

His father can’t stop Graff from talking to him alone, he gives Ender the truth, that Battle School is harsh, no vacations, or visitors until he finishes at sixteen. (then what kid in a good home would agree to it we are later told the IF are basically black bagging children from their families who emotionally write them off as dead since they never see them again) People change, when he sees his sister again, they’ll be strangers, he’ll love her but he won’t know her. He’s been watching Ender; he won’t miss his parents for long and they won't miss him either. He tells Ender what he cost them; his father was the seventh of nine children, but people do that for religion. Taxes rise with each child and at sixteen his father left his family and changed his name and vowed not to have more children than allowed to spare them the shame and persecution he had.

No one wants a Third anymore, his parents are ashamed of coming from noncompliant families, having a Third undoes everything. (why are Third+ children hated in society I can only assume it’s propaganda for the military government to control the populace more it can’t be depleted resources and space since we see no evidence of it and earth can safely support up to 10 billion people and since the buggers attacked earth eighty years ago a fuck ton of people were killed so that morbidly made more space) But his father still baptized them at home, they fought about it, named them after saints. They’re proud of him to allow them to circumvent law, but it’s also a badge of cowardice, he’s a badge of public shame. They know all of this through the monitors, it goes right to their brains, they understood even if he didn’t. (how is this done how many people do you have that have the time to watch the Truman Show and take every little detail) They love him, but do they want him here, (earlier they said they were happy he could stay) his brother resents him but Valentine loves him, the choice isn’t easy.

Graff tells him the school curriculum and all the boys are organized into armies to make battle, winning and losing matters. The end result is the future of the human race, how well he learns and fights, he won't have a normal childhood but as a Third he doesn’t have one anyway. There’re a few girls though, “They don’t often pass the tests to get in. Too many centuries of evolution are working against them.”p.17 (hey Orson your sexism is showing) They’re not like Valentine and boys like Peter don’t get in, but Peter is the reason Ender was approved. (yeah the government went this child’s to hard this child’s too soft the third will be just right since Ender was left alone with his siblings he was basically raised by an abusive dad and protective mother)

If it was for choosing his happiest future, he’d tell Ender to stay at home. “There are worse things than being a Third,”p.18 Battle School is one of them, but they need him, the games he plays are real, (foreshadowing) they only won from being wiped out by having a brilliant military commander and luck. (no you didn’t) But he’s gone and Ender is the best chance in eighty years. “Maybe you’ll break down under pressure, maybe it’ll ruin your life, maybe you’ll hate me for coming here to your house today.”p.18 But if there’s a chance, he’s going to risk it. Ender thought of leaving, then of the military films, how they were weak but won, he’ll go. (I know he’s six but I’ll say it now and keep saying it Ender you’re an idiot) They inform the parents and siblings he doesn’t have to pack, no need for toys, his parents say they’ll write and at the car Valentine cried for him to come back and she’ll always love him.

#ender's game #orson scott card #books #book summaries #science fiction #young adult #science fiction fantasy #dystopia #war

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vampkillr · 2 years

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Midnight — Bruce Wayne

m! reader — 3.2k words — slight angst — mention of suicide — reader is based off of v (for vendetta) — written with bale's batman in mind — reupload of a longer version. the new section is under the spacer. treat it as a timeskip

There wasn't pride amongst my many sins. I was never proud of the things I did, not even while I was doing them— but Gotham was a sick city. Infected by the cancer of the rich, who not only ate everything in their path, but consumed the poor's future. The sick were left to wither and wilt, the homeless were left to freeze, and those who were lucky enough to still have a home were forced to decide between going to bed full or going to work clean. I was among the lucky. The ones who got out. The ones who managed to crawl and break through the dirt the rich buried us under. Yet my freedom was handed to me, I didn't have to fight for it.

Seeing how people like this live, seeing their comfort, their carelessness— it drove me mad. Which is why I couldn't bring myself to regret the decision to cleanse Gotham. Cure it. I tried to do things legally. I tried to do it without leaving a trail of death in this change's wake, but every time I used my privilege for good there was a new issue curated just to prevent the poor from thriving. Shelters put in place, and in return new heath inspection rules to have a reason to shut them down. Homes built and destroyed, funding schools and drugs being set loose close to the gates. Gotham's officials did whatever they could to keep the dying parts of the city on it's deathbed.

He had a menacing aura. Standing across from me in the rain and saying nothing, almost as if he was expecting me to run or try to kill him, too. He was waiting for something it seemed. Waiting for me to get scared. The light from the moon reflected his suit in a pale, almost sickly blue hue. I wasn't afraid, though. I didn't have it in me to be scared anymore. Not after the things I've done. "Are you here to turn me in?" My pace towards him was slow, cautious.

"You don't regret what you've done?" His voice was rocky, dark.

"If I stopped to think about something as human as my guilt when trying to fix a system designed to fail its people, nothing will get done." I said plainly. "These men and women, they force people onto streets and are the reason they starve and die. Just like you I am a symbol. A sign to Gotham that someone truly does care."

"You're nothing like me." He sounded almost angry.

"Of course," I took my hat off, my thumb slipping under my mask, but before I could lift it he grabbed my wrist. The grip wasn't angry or harsh, but it was firm with worry. I slipped my hand out of his grasp and took the mask off. "We as people, individuals. We may be nothing like each other." I handed him my mask. "But this mask, just like yours, is useless without the hope it provides. We are not people when we put them on. We're ideas. Dreams of a better tomorrow. We do what we do in hopes that we won't have to do it anymore." He stared at my mask, staying silent. He wasn't much for words. "There isn't rebirth without death. You cannot stop corruption without severing the section that's infected. You're free to turn me over to the police, but you have the option to pretend we never crossed paths. The fate of Gotham rests in your hands with your decision. But I think you know just how badly I'm needed."

We stood there at a stalemate for a while,he seemed to be deep in thought until he handed my mask back to me. "I don't agree with the way you go about things." I wished for a more fruitful conversation from him, but I would have to settle.

"We'll meet again, Batman. Another time, or perhaps you'll approach me without the mask." I mused.

I woke up to a strange feeling. The guttural sense of a presence. A primal instinct unleashed just from the feeling of being watched. I was on guard from the moment my body jolted itself upward, but the sight of his figure in front of my now-opened window was just enough to ease the fight in me. I laid back down, not having a care in the world who was in my home. "You truly are a nocturnal animal." I sighed, tiredness slowly seeping itself back into my veins like a toxin. "This couldn't have waited until morning?"

"I won't be Batman in the morning." Ah, of course. How silly of me. "I just need to know why you showed me your face." It must have been on his mind for days if that's all he broke in to ask. I stood up and walked towards him, not caring about my lack of clothes. It was his fault for breaking in, he would have to deal with the consequence of seeing me in just my briefs.

"You chase after sinners and beat them down. The idea of you strikes fear in the hearts of the wicked— but also the desperate. The people who are left with no choice but to do unspeakable things just to survive." His frown as he looked at me showed me guilt. "You have a vendetta. One against criminals, not crime. I have one against the world that creates those criminals. I am V, exactly for that word. That is the idea that I am. You can't kill an idea as vehement and virtuous as a vendetta. With that mask, I am Vengeance. As are you. But without it I am but a face. As meaningless and missable as the muscle below it, and the bone below that." My hand rested against his chest, the touch was gentle— a small push in the right direction. The fact he was even letting me touch him was proof enough that I was getting to him. "I've showed you my flesh. I've given you my armor of an idea, and revealed to you just a man. A man you can turn in or kill, or a man you can relate to. My question is, will you do the same?"

His stance changed. Almost as if his muscles breathed their own sigh of relief, but it was only for a second. "What if I'm the type of person you go after?" The deep voice he wore earlier was completely gone, and all that remained was a melodic and smooth tone. It rang of confidence despite the nature of the question.

"Would you like to see my list?" I turned to walk to my drawer, not waiting for a response and pulling a notebook out. It's pages were filled top to bottom with the names of people and their hand in keeping the poor disadvantaged. There were so many I had yet to get to— so many people who needed to die before I could fix the issue. He read the pages intently, searching like a madman for his own name. As he thumbed through the pages I leaned back on my bed. "You know," He stopped to look at me, the eyes trailing along my body not going unnoticed. "as long as your money isn't being used to harm people, your name's not on there."

Sitting down was starting to have it's consequences. I was so incredibly tired. It burned to just keep my eyes open, my muscles ached just from being used. I needed to rest. I had been awake for days and just when I finally passed out he woke me up again. "You seem exhausted." He stated simply and I didn't have it in me to lie to him.

"I'm sorry." I didn't know why I was apologizing. I had no fucking idea, and it seemed to confuse Batman as well. Saying sorry for being tired seemed like such a ridiculous thing.

"Please don't apologize," It seemed like he had more to say. As if he wanted to just walk up to me, but he made no move to reach for me. I could see the way his stance was forward, the way his hand itched to touch me. He cleared his throat, forcing himself backwards. The cold facade was draped over him once more— the change in his aura was almost visible. "I'll be back at another time." His voice was back to the deep tone.

It was like I was watching him detach himself from me, and it was hard to describe how oddly painful that was. Some part of my heart knew who he was. I yearned for him, and I knew that, I just didn't know why. He was gone the next moment I looked at the window. All that was left of his presence was the open window and the cold breeze that pushed my curtains to flow and bleed further into my room. I didn't bother getting up to close it. My body would have collapsed on my way to lay back down, so I just fell asleep.

Morning came sooner than I would have wanted it to, and Ivan wouldn't take 'five more minutes' for an answer. The gravity against my body felt so horrendously heavy that even sitting up from my bed was a difficult task. "Sir, are you alright?" He asked, handing me a cup of coffee. I took a moment to hold back the sigh my body was begging to release before I dared to respond.

"Do you think what I'm doing...." I had no idea how to word my question. I didn't even know what answer I wanted from him— I just needed some type of reassurance. Some type of ease from the toll it was taking on me. "Is any of it worth it?" My gaze was locked onto the liquid in the mug. Moving in ripples, my reflection just barely visible.

"Killing people, no matter who it is or for what— taking human life can scar a sane man." My eyes shot up to him.

"You find me sane?" There was a timidness in my voice that I couldn't shake. Ivan walked around the breakfast cart and sat himself down next to me, a hand on my back. Warm compared to the cold of my skin he touched.

"Do you remember the first time you did it?" I nodded softly. There's still nothing that can wash the god-awful stain of that night from my eyes. It followed me. They all did. "You slammed that door shut and started to cry. Blood all over you— ruined the carpet." I didn't remember the getting home part, and I think he knew that. "You wouldn't get up off of the floor. I had to carry you and give you a shower. You wouldn't talk. Wouldn't move on your own." I looked at my coffee in a blank stare. Parts of what he was describing we're coming back to me. The memory so faint it was as if it was a scene I was only able to visualize. Sitting on the floor of the shower and Ivan kneeling down to wash the blood off of me. His suit jacket was discarded along with the pile of my own clothes, red staining his white undershirt from where I had been holding onto him and sobbing. "The next morning you tried to kill yourself with a piece of the glass I dropped." He didn't need to remind me of that part.

"You didn't have to... Mention that." I regretted doing that to him. Making him see me like that. I hated thinking about it.

"I did. Because if you were crazy you wouldn't have tried to do that." He stood up and started to unload the breakfast cart, probably because he wanted me to eat before the food got cold. "As far as I'm concerned, you're my boy, you understand? I raised you and I took care of you from the moment Mr. and Mrs. Crowne took you away." He continued his business with the food while I thoughtlessly nursed the coffee that had finally cooled enough for me to drink. "I was the one that got you up for school, I was the one who helped you with your homework, I was the one who taught you how to shower, I was the one you came to for advice—" I cut him off.

"I'm your son." His lip quivered at my reassurance. It was the first time either of us actually acknowledged the bond we clung to.

"My boy."

"Your boy." I knew all too well this was brought on by the conversation of my attempt just moments ago, and I would never be able to verbalize to Ivan how sorry I'll be for the rest of my life that he had to witness it.

"I don't want you to call me dad. I just want you to know that you're never not going to be my son to me." He pushed the cart and set the tray of food on my side table. "I know you want to die. I know you want to get away from the things you've done— things you're going to do. And I know that you wonder if someone would do those things for you if you really did give up. But they won't. Gotham is scared, and you and that Batman are the first of hope it's seen in a while." He kissed my forehead. "And if you ever try some bullshit like that again I'll kick your sorry ass, you hear me?" I couldn't help but laugh at his threat as he left me to eat my breakfast. Today, there was nothing I had to do. It was rare for these days to pop up anymore and I worshipped them when they came to me. I wouldn't be holed up in an office running my company, I wouldn't be stuck in meetings or phone calls, I just got to relax and I savored it. I laid back in bed after I ate, needing to catch up on much-needed rest.

That feeling again. The sense that someone was there. It stirred me awake and I was shocked to be met with the moonlight through my window. "Hello," I greeted Batman softly, sitting up from the bed and trying to massage the headache from my temples because of how long I had slept. "I'm sorry for things getting cut short last night." There was no response from him as he walked towards me. I swung my legs off the side of the bed and waited for him.

"If I take this mask off, If I show you who I am then that's it. I'll be in your life forever. But if you don't want that, then I can keep this mask on and you never have to hear from me again." My brows furrowed as he kneeled down in between my legs, looking up at me. There was a gloss of hope in his eyes, one that was so familiar to me.

"That sounds like a big commitment just to see your face, don't you think?" My words made his demeanor change into a cold one once again, but as his body moved away from mine I grabbed his face and pulled it back. "Don't do that," I whispered. "don't go looking for a reason to push me away." He seemed to think about it for a few seconds before soothing himself back into me, one hand resting on my thigh and another hand snaking its way around my calf. The touch was intimate, and yet he wasn't thinking twice about it. "If I do this," My fingers played with the edges of his mask. "will you really stick by me?" No one's ever done that for me in my life besides Ivan, and although I wanted it desperately— the idea of it scared me a little.

"I won't have the strength to let you go again." Again.... So we did know each other already. I thought about it for a moment, but the longer I took the more desperate the look on his face became. "Please..." He started to plead. The once strong and terrifying batman was now just that. A man. Tearing up in front of me and begging for me to let him into my life. And a small part of me wanted him. I wanted the touch of his hands grasping for me. I wanted the feeling of his face against my fingers. I wanted to stare into his eyes. So I slipped the mask off.

My breath caught in my throat. "Bruce?" He reached for me, standing up and pushing me back gently with my face in his hands. "Y-you.... You were dead I—" Happiness, rage, grief. They all swirled inside of my chest at a pace my body couldn't physically handle. None of my confusion, none of my words would slip from my tongue. All that I could think about was the guilt that ate me alive. I couldn't believe that I forgot his eyes. The eyes that I adored so much.

"I'm here now," He shushed me and kissed the tears that fell from my eyes. "I'm so sorry..." We both held onto each other for dear life. I gripped onto his cape, my face buried in the crook of his neck as I breathed in his scent. It was so foreign to me and yet nostalgic at the same time. I wanted more of it. I wanted to stay there with him just to make up for the lost time. He flipped us over so that I was laying on top of him, but his suit was uncomfortable against my skin.

“Bruce...” I got off of him. “Your suit.” Without another thought he took everything off, discarding it on my floor and pulling me back onto him in my bed. I missed this closeness, this comfort. “Why did you disappear?” I asked, tears pricking my eyes and threatening to fall once again. “Why'd you leave me?” My voice shook. I could feel the way he hugged me tighter to him.

“I wanted to understand criminals more, it wasn't my intention to just leave you the way I did,” He sighed, fingers tracing along my spine. “I started being afraid that you'd hate me for the things I was doing, so I didn't try to contact you. I went 7 years without talking to anyone including Alfred, and when I came back....” I could feel the way his heart was racing. Feel how nervous he was to finally be holding me.

“You became batman.” I finished his sentence for him and he nodded. There was silence between us for a while. I didn't know what I wanted to say and I didn't know how I wanted to say it. Sure, I was upset at him. Livid that he could just leave so easily— but I knew better than anyone that somewhere in that brain of his, he genuinely thought he would have been sparing me. Bruce was terrified of himself. Of the possibilities. He knew very well what he was capable of, and there was a fear within him that somehow, for some reason, he would hurt me.

We would have to figure things out again. We'd have to learn the trust we lost. We'd have to work through those fears. But what mattered was that we would be able to. What mattered was that he was with me.

likes and reblogs are appreciated and very much desired please lord my engagement has been total ass recently help a brother out — ALSO please check the post under my pinned request are open until monday

#ao3 #fanfic #x male reader #reader insert #writing #angst #male reader #batman angst #batman x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman fanfiction #bruce wayne

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starlightomatic · 3 years

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Tired of people from outside the US assuming that people here are just simply too selfish to comply with lockdowns rather than realizing that we’ve barely had lockdowns at all, governments are still trying to keep things like indoor dining open even with skyrocketing cases, and our governments are fully failing us.

Keeping covid under control here requires individuals to voluntarily isolate for months and months and months. I’ve been in the equivalent of what someone in almost-lockdown would experience for nine and a half months and you know what? I’m passed blaming other people for not being able to do that. Especially when so many can’t because they have to work. Not just essential workers, tons of non-essential workers have been forced back to work too.

Y’all had lockdowns that worked and then life was able to loosen up a little, then more lockdowns. The coordinated effort, guided by the government, is what works. Clear public health messaging is what works. Here, after things opened back up in the summer we’ve had piecemeal and too-lax restrictions, and inconsistent and frequently inaccurate messaging from our public heath agencies, which btw are decentralized so we have literally thousands of them, one for every county.

And due to that inconsistent messaging and lack of actual effective restrictions and lockdowns, we all are constantly having to calculate safety and risk in absence of any guidance beyond just articles we read and what our friends tell us. Those of us with a lot of scientific literacy and social networks who are being careful can make good choices, but people for whom that’s not the case are not being given the tools to do so.

And honestly? It’s not just that. Even if you know what you’re doing is risky, I can’t really blame you because being in near-quarantine for nine and a half months fucking destroys your mental health. Literally I have not been inside a single friend or family member’s house, or any indoor space besides bare essentials like food, meds, and emergency vet care, for more than two months.

We’re all suffering. Some people are making choices to prioritize their mental health, some are taking the hit for their and others’ safety, some people have simply gotten to the point where they can’t handle it anymore and their brains cannot continue doing constant risk calculations so they’ve said fuck it.

Oh, and our mental health system is insufficient, too. Many people can’t access it at all due to insurance issues. Our governments are largely not providing financial assistance — I was approved for pandemic unemployment assistance because covid is the reason I lost my job, but then I simply didn’t receive it. I was semi-homeless for two months and displaced multiple times.

The government is fucking up. Not doing real lockdowns because of the “economy,” so that they don’t have to support anyone. Even though eventually they do have to enact restrictions and they still don’t support us. A restaurant in my hometown that my family loved and was a beloved local institution closed permanently because of this. So did a gay bar in the city I was most recently displaced from that I never got to go to. And of course, people are dying by the thousands every day.

This is not the fault of individual Americans. We are not being irresponsible, we’re stretched beyond breaking point, and surrounded by so many kinds of loss. So many of us are trying so hard. Stop blaming us for our government’s failure to protect us.

#covid

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jorisjurgen · 3 years

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For the Ask Game, Asriel/Flowey perhaps?

First of all thank you for being my #1 supporter in "going insane over him" hobby for the past couple of years, Saffron. This post will certainly contain NOTHING that you hadn't heard me say about him 10 times before in your dms. probably.

[ask game]

1. I literary don't even know where to begin. He has 97 mental illnesses, he's a tsundere, he has 20-30 music tracks associated with him, he's an edgy 12 year old, he remembers what you did in other timeloops and has a lot of dialogue about that, he a lot of different designs and all of them are good. All of it is really good. Though probably my most favorite part IS the sheer tragedy that his life is, and how in the end he gets a happy ending.

2. How underrated he is 💔

3. Of all banger lines that he has, this dialogue straight up Haunts me: "I thought of all people, SHE could make me feel whole again. ...She failed. Ha ha... I realized those two were useless. I became despondent. I just wanted to love someone. I just wanted to care about someone. Chara, you might not believe this... But I decided... It wasn't worth living anymore. Not in a world without love. Not in a world without you. So... I decided to follow in your footsteps. I would erase myself from existence. And you know what? I succeeded."

4. Him and literary everyone. I want him to have a big support system and a lot of friends, and obviously for him to have a good relationship with his parents. But I especially like to see him being friends with Sans and Papyrus. Papyrus is an obvious pick, as for Sans, it's because in geno-route he says that what he thought "the anomaly" (who is almost certainly Flowey, though at that moment he is convinced it's player) really needed is a support system, friends, and care. Also it's funny when Sans is friendly with him and Flowey is PISSED because of that.

5. Past Him and Chara, and then Him and Frisk post-game.

6. I don't know any other pairings with him dfgjsdfg.

7. Some of this is kind of crack, and almost all of this is post-canon lol. Frisk introduces him to vocaloid music and he loves it. I think he'd like beyond-dark music about trauma and death, and vocaloid has a lot of that. Also he seems like the kind of person who unironically listens to nightcore. I think Toriel, not yet knowing that he is her son and that he has 97 mental illnesses, would enroll him into public school the second she learns he is a kid (which, let's be real, will be like a day or two after Frisk brings him outside simply because she can like... Hear him say words, and connect the dots.). He then would definitely cause something simply dubbed as "the knife incident" and be homeschooled then on. He's a good student on good mental heath days, but definitely much worse than his deltarune counterpart. I also think Toriel would be would be a lot more protective and a lot less strict with him than before he died, because she is badly afraid of losing him again. He definitely spends a lot of time with Asgore! Dreemurr Coparenting Real. I don't think his childhood was entirely happy even before death, and before Chara. Neither Asgore or Toriel are perfect, and I could picture him being quite a bit lonely, sheltered, and having a lot of expectations on him from Toriel. He has neon rainbow darkness dementia ravenway type ocs.

8. Chara and him weren't siblings and Chara was abusive to him, and that's not even an opinion this is literary canon. Also he has PTSD and depression and just thinks his emotional issues are the result of being soulless because he literary doesn't know anything! He's some 12 year old guy!! It's far more likely that he is a very unreliable narrator on his own condition because he isn't an expert on souls and maybe doesn't know what a "mental health" is.

9. I have a 3 hour long playlist about him, but my ESSENTIAL Asriel song is "Scrumize" by Maretu.

10. This cut goof toby posted a couple of years ago.

#ask games

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traumatizeddfox · 3 years

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i literally cannot take being completely broke and being disabled to the point of unemployment anymore i'm about to lose my mind, there's this really deep angry feeling in my gut that's making me sick and i can't stop crying these burning hot tears because i am literally seething with rage.

surviving purely off of scraps is just pushing me farther and farther to the edge and i'm not sure i can take it anymore, my trauma is really bad but my family had money so i never really had that problem before. poverty is absolutely horrendous, it's rocking my world, and i think i might just kill myself. i'm basically homeless, i'm starving, i have disgusting looking old clothes, im filthy from having limited mobility and struggling to bathe, i have ABSOLUTELY ZERO access to mental heath care after spending the only money i had left from my parents trying to get some medication and diagnoses, because of how many worthless and pointless hoops and bills i had to jump through and pay.

i also have a spending and hoarding problem since i have hoarder trauma. i need fucking help and i don't have any family and my only two friends spend every single waking hour working. i never had any friends growing up and i have none now. i feel so fucking alone.

I am so sorry! That is honestly so rough. I am so sorry the system failed you like that. I really hope things turn around for you! I wish I could help you but i am also broke as shit.

#n0-weed

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talpup · 4 years

Text

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud. He knew there would be trails. He knew trouble would come his way. Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant. What he didn’t know. Didn’t expect. Was that literal Chaos would come his way. That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble. Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, eventual sexual behavior, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Chapter 79

Zora had only stayed one night at the Black Bulls base. Zara’s sister arriving the afternoon after Zara’s death to take Zora to live with her and her family in Rizon. While probably fortunate for Zora’s mental and emotional healing, it was unfortunate for the case and cause of justice that Zora hadn’t seen anything. With no idea who or why Zara had been killed, murdered in his own home; Zora seeing or hearing something would've be of great help to Magic Investigations.

It was mid-morning twelve days after Zara’s death when Julius arrived at the Black Bulls base. He had been carrying the final report from Magic Investigations; brow deeply furrowed, lips set in a hard line, and furious tears shining in his eyes. The case of Zara Ideale’s death was officially closed. Zara had been more than a friend to Julius. The man had enlightened and inspired him. Which made both the report, and things he overheard when walking the grounds of Magic Knights Headquarters all the more upsetting.

Seated behind the desk in his office, Jax lowered the report and looked up at his friend. “How could they find nothing? No trace. No lead. Is Magic Investigations really that incompetent? I’ll send some of my people out and we’ll find something.”

Julius shook his head and downed the whiskey he had let Jax pour him when he first sat down. Grimacing at the burn, he set the glass on the desk. “The case is closed. Sir Jorah was adamant about that.”

Jax frowned at the empty glass, eyes narrowing. “What’s going on here, Julius? There’s something you’re not saying.”

Julius sniffed, lip twitching. “I overheard some Purple Orcas.” His voice cracked with emotion forcing him to pause and swallow the painful lump in his throat. “They were conversing. I didn’t hear a name. But… They were talking about having killed someone in their own home.”

Jax straightened in his seat. Unable to believe it, he leaned forward and questioned. “You think Zara’s comrades murdered him?”

Eyes stinging, Julius looked up at his friend. “I’ve never known a Magic Knight to laughingly boast about having killed someone in their own home. I had Marx check the mission reports. There was nothing sent in from the Purple Orcas about entering someones home. Let alone killing them.”

“But why? Why kill one of your own?” Jax asked, incredulous.

Julius’ hands balled into fists. If he was right, just how far did this go? Surely Sir Jorah knew. Why else would he be so adamant that the case was closed? Why else would the Wizard King refuse to hear him out? Such news would be devastating for the Magic Knights. Was that why Sir Jorah was keeping it quiet? Or was it to protect the image of the nobles in the Purple Orcas? No matter the reason, it disgusted Julius. He had to get stronger and become Wizard King. He had to fix the hierarchical corruption within the Magic Knights. Sir Jorah might have taken the first step by implementing the star system. But it wasn’t enough if things like this could happen and be swept under the rug.

More dismayed than he’d been in years, Julius replied. “Heath may not have been the one to pick Zara for the Orcas, but he tolerated Zara well enough during his time as Captain. Whlif on the other hand.” Teeth gritted, he shook his head. “Zara might not have said anything. But I could tell things got exponentially worse for on him when Whilf became Captain.”

“Are you saying a Magic Knights Captain had something to do with the murder of one of his own?” Jax questioned, struggling to keep his voice down.

Rubbing his brow, Julius slumped back. “Mana. I truly hope not. Not wanting to cause Zara any problems, I didn’t openly reveal we were good friends.”

Jax nodded, understanding. Back in the day, before his rank had risen to the point of protecting him, Jamie and Pyter had set upon him more than once for forgetting his place as a merchants son and being friends with Julius. Even now, he still occasionally got flack for his friendship with the royal.

Realization dawned, a deep foreboding crawling up Jax’s spine. “There were three other royals and a noble who weren’t so careful about their friendship with Zara.”

Julius frowned and looked away. He should have said something. Should have told his sister and the others to be more mindful. That hate and jealously among the nobles was a very real and deadly thing. Maybe if he had...

“Are you saying I’m the reason for Zara’s death?” Sounded a voice from the doorway.

Julius jumped up, knocking over the chair as he spun. “Teris! You shouldn’t listen in on others conversations. Especially your Captain--”

“I wasn’t listening in. I was coming to ask Jax if he’d heard anything from Magic Investigations about Zara’s case.” Teris pushed the door open looking from her brother to her Captain and back. “Was our friendship with Zara really the reason he was killed? Murdered by members of his own--” She fell silent unable to go on. “What’s going to happen to them? Will Magic Investigations need more time to gather irrefutable proof?”

“The case is closed.” Jax said, pushing away a copy of the report Marx had smuggled out to Julius.

“So they’re being arrested? The entire squad? Or was it just a few? What’s going to happen?” Teris asked.

Julius and Jax shared at look.

Heart aching, Julius stepped toward his sister. “Teris.”

“No!” Teris stepped back. “Don’t say my name like that or look at me with that face! Something has to be done!”

“There’s no proof.” Julius told her, throat constricting. “I didn’t see who was talking. Only part of a squad cloak.” If only he had stepped around the line of shrubs. “Even if I did. I didn’t hear them say a name or give any details.” He told both her and himself. “They could argue it was a story. A game. A training scenario.”

Teris stared up at Julius with a look that hurt him almost as much as the wounded look she gave when he first left home after their mother’s death. Only this pained look of hers carried a spark of hope. As if she still believed he could do anything.

“You could go back to where you heard them. Use your time magic. Get a look at their faces. Better yet, you could go to Zara’s and see exactly what happened and who did it.” Teris said.

Julius swallowed, eyes red and shining with tears. He shook his head. If only he hadn’t been away on mission when Zara Ideale had been attacked and murdered. “It’s been far too long for that to work and you know it.”

“Then Marx or Advisor Ellara.” Teris tried. “They could--”

“Teris. No.” Julius interrupted, gently.

Teris spun around. Julius grabbed her arm. Pulling free, Teris made to light travel away. Julius used his magic to slow the time around her and speed his. He grabbed her once again and pulled her into Jax’s office, slamming the door closed.

Keeping a firm hold on her arms, Julius released the spell. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Where do you think!” Teris snapped.

“You can’t.” Julius said.

“Watch me!” Teris growled, struggling to pull free.

Holding her tighter, Julius shook her. “Teris! Stop! There’s nothing you can do.”

“There’s plenty I can do.” Teris said.

There was wild look in her eyes that frightened Julius for her. If she went to Magic Knights Headquarters or the Purple Orcas base and made a fuss she could be brought up on charges. She could possibly even be dishonorably discharge from the Magic Knights. Any chance she had of becoming Magic Knights Commander before her twentieth birthday would be ruined. Slim as that chance was with Commander Greywright not looking to retire until Sir Jorah did, Julius didn’t want that chance taken from her. He didn’t think he could stomach it. Not when he would’ve been the cause, her having overheard him and Jax. Not when his friend had been murdered twelve days ago. Not when his faith and love of the Magic Knights had been shaken to its core.

“No.” Julius said, grip tightening.

“Someone has to do something!” Teris expressed, angry tears welling in her eyes.

“Not you.” Julius mournfully told.

Tears slipping out of their banks, Teris stared up at him. Silently pleading him to fix this.

Julius’ throat bobbed with emotion. He had failed both his friend, and his sister. His friend was dead, and his sister was hurting. And there was nothing he could do about either. He hated it. He hated that the Wizard King he looked up to, and Magic Knights he loved would cover-up the murder of anyone. Let alone cover-up the murder of someone as kind and generous as Zara Ideale.

Julius felt powerless. Useless. And in his current position he was. But he swore he wouldn’t always be. When he became Wizard King he would make sure nothing like this ever happened again. He couldn’t seek justice for Zara. But he could honor the mans memory by making the Magic Knights a better, safer, more welcoming organization for all people, no matter their societal rank.

Brows pinched together Teris uttered hoarsely. “He was my friend, Juls. He had a son.”

Julius pulled her into a too tight hug. His eyes squeezed shut. A single tear escaped, rolling down his cheek to wet her hair. “I know. He was my friend too.”

79.2

A portal opened in the Black Bulls great room. Jax tensed, the gateway similar but different from Bronn’s. Fuegoleon stepped through with Randall and a group of other Magic Knights. At the sight of two Purple Orcas, Jax cast a quick glance about the room.

“You!” Jax pointed and whispered harshly to the Purple Orcas. “Go back the way you came.” When the two stared wide-eyed and didn’t move, the Captain stepped to them and growled. “Don’t think I’ll throw you through? I said out!”

The Purple Orcas turned and slowly stepped back through the gateway just as Cob stepped through.

“Close it up.” Jax commanded.

Cob looked back at the gateway.

“Now!” Jax ordered.

Confused as he was, Cob did as the Black Bulls Captain commanded.

Jax released a long exhale of relief. The last thing he needed was Teris seeing two Purple Orcas in the base. Looking at Cob, Jax told. “You’re lucky Bronn’s not here. He’s territorial about people magicking into the base, and doesn’t like other Spatial Mages. How’d you get in anyway?”

“Clearance.” Cob answered, cheerily.

Jax nodded. He should have figured. After all Cob worked for Magic Knights Headquarters. He turned to the Crimson Lion’s acting Vice Captain. “How’s Quince?”

“Still unconscious.” Fuegoleon reported, holding out the mission order for Jax to take.

Jax skimmed it and handed it back. “The geyser labyrinth, huh? Then let’s find you Yami and Teris in a hurry.”

“Did you note Xerx and Revchi’s names on there?” Fuegoleon questioned, referring to the two Purple Orcas Jax had ordered out and back through the portal.

“Drop the sarcasm acting Vice Captain. It’s not going to happen. You can have those two or you can my two Black Bulls.” Jax said.

“Sir Jorah wrote the order and names himself.” Fuegoleon told.

“I know the Wizard Kings hand.” Jax said. He turned to the Spatial Mage. “Cob. Fetch me Commander Greywright. Quickly, please.”

“Righty’o.” Cob created a portal and stepped through.

“Bran!” Jax called, seeing the boy enter the room and immediately do an about face. “Where’s Yami and Teris?”

Bran slowly turned back. “Yami’s in the training room. I think Teris is in the sun room.”

“Don’t think. Know. Go fetch Teris.” Jax watched Bran disappear down another hallway. He took in the Magic Knight’s gathered behind Fuegoleon. It was quite a mix. Randall from the Crimson Lions. Hamon and William from the Golden Dawn. Charlotte and Fraya from the Blue Rose. And Jack and En from the Green Mantis.

Knowing Jack was Yami’s friend. If finding enjoyment from always fighting each other could be considered friendship. Jax point at the Green Mantis then down the hallway. “Jack. Training room’s down that way. Take the hall to the right. First door on the left. Go get the big lug.” Thinking someone sensible should go along so Yami and Jack didn’t get caught up fighting, he added. “Charlotte. Go with him.”

Fuegoleon stepped closer to Jax. “Captain. The geyser labyrinth--”

“I’m well aware the geyser labyrinth is only accessible for a set amount of time, acting Vice Captain.” Jax interrupted. More to himself, he went on. “What’s curious is it opening up now.”

“Sir?” Fuegoleon blinked.

Jax smirked at the younger man and teased. “What? Didn’t know that the geyser labyrinth has been opening up like clockwork for hundreds of years and wasn’t set to do so for another two?”

Fuegoleon shook his head in answer.

Bran entered the great room with Teris. “She was looking at the page of Chaos.”

“Traitor.” Teris glared.

Bran looked hurt. “I only--”

“Teris!” Jax scolded. “What’s the matter with you?” He shook his head, waving off her excuse. “I don’t have time for this. The acting Vice Captain has a mission for you and Yami.”

“Acting Vice Captain?” Teris echoed as Bran slunk off.

“You heard about Quince. Did you expect Mereoleona to go without a Vice Captain?” Jax questioned.

Teris looked at her cousin. “You?”

“Just till Quince recovers.” Fuegoleon said, too concerned about his Vice Captain to smile or be proud about the temporary position.

If he recovers, Jax thought. From the sound of it, Quince was in a bad way. Though the man was finally stabilized, he was still unconscious and the healers had no idea when or if he would wake up.

Greywright stepped through a portal. “What is it, Jax?” He frowned seeing the group of Magic Knights still present and followed the Black Bulls Captain in stepping away from them.

Yami arrived with Jack and a beet red Charlotte.

Concerned, Randall asked the Blue Rose. “You feeling unwell?”

“I’m fine.” Charlotte snapped.

Jack cackled. “I think seeing Yami shirtless and doing pull ups with iron weights hanging from his waist might’ve been a bit much for her.”

“Dirty, disgusting...” Charlotte voice tapered off, her face reddening further.

“Think she’s talking about you.” Yami told Jack.

“I’m talking about the both of you!” Charlotte scowled.

“Well now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings. I took a bath this morning.” Yami said.

“Yeah. But after working out you stink now.” Jack said.

Yami lifted an arm and sniffed. Teris arched a brow at him.

Yami made his way to her, voice low and playful. “What do you think, Princess? Am I disgusting and dirty?”

“You could certainly use another bath.” Teris remarked, admiring the way Yami’s shirt clung to his broad sweat drenched chest and chiseled abs.

“Maybe you could help me with that.” Yami teased for her ears alone.

Thinking a change of subject was prudent, Teris asked. “Did you know Leon was made acting Vice Captain?”

“Good for him.” Yami circled around Teris and stood behind her. His chest grazed her back with every inhaled, breath tickling her neck with every exhale. “You smell delicious.”

“Stop it.” Teris breathed, feet wanting to turn around, hands itching to touch him.

“You’re beautiful.” Yami murmured, fingers trailing down her back where no one else could see.

“You’re hard.” Teris shook her head at the mistake. “I mean. You’re making things hard.”

“You have no idea.” Yami chuckled, hand sliding down to cup her ass.

Teris squeaked. The gathered Magic Knight’s looked her way. Yami chuckled again. Hands slipping into his pants pockets, he took a step back from her.

Fuegoleon looked from Yami to Teris, noting the blush in his cousin’s cheeks. The acting Vice Captain shook his head. Yami was a rogue. A nuisance. Fuegoleon would much rather have had Nozel on this mission. He didn’t trust Yami to obey a Captain's commands, let alone his. At least Teris was going, Fuegoleon thought, both grateful and disturbed that the foreigner seemed of bend to Teris’ will easily enough.

After a brief exchange with Jax, Greywright snapped, angry and annoyed. “Cob! Go get two Silver Eagles. I don’t care which.” As Cob disappeared, the Knights Commander frowned at Jax. “We’re wasting time. The geyser labyrinth is only open for so long.”

“I know.” Jax said.

“With it opening early, who knows if it’ll open when it’s suppose to.” Greywright said.

“Would you have rather I let it stay as it was?” Jax questioned, quietly.

“Of course not. Don’t be stupid.” Greywright looked about. “Where the hell is Cob with those Silver Eagles?”

“Geyser labyrinth?” Teris looked at the Knights Commander and her Captain.

“That’s the mission. We have-- Had six hours to get in. Find the vault. And get out before it closes back up.” Fuegoleon told.

“Quit complaining. You have the map showing the route those before you traveled. You should find the vault easily enough.” Jax told.

Greywright glanced at Jax knowing the Captain had been in the geyser labyrinth ten years ago when it opened at its scheduled time. The place was a literal maze. Hence the maps showing the routes previous explorers had taken. And the command that current explores map their progress. No one knew how big the place was. Only the entrance appeared when the labyrinth revealed itself. But the mapped out portions hinted at the places massive scale.

“Seems the acting Vice Captain's afraid his first mission will be a failure.” Jack cackled.

Teris made a face and turned away. Yami saw her distaste and smirked. He didn’t know why Teris didn’t like Jack. Given that she couldn’t give him a straight answer when he asked her, Yami doubted Teris knew herself.

“I’ve been an acting Vice Captain before. And had much success.” Fuegoleon reminded.

“Yami. Teris.” Jax waved them over.

“Here it comes.” Yami muttered, walking with Teris toward their Captain.

“I want you two back here as soon as the mission’s over.” Jax said. “No delays. No stops. Straight. Back. Here. Understood.”

“Why are you looking directly at me while you say that?” Teris asked, already knowing the answer.

“Understood.” Jax repeated, unblinking gaze fixed on her.

Teris stared back. Did her Captain really think she would head to the Purple Orcas base after this mission? Now that she thought about it, the idea didn’t sound so bad. She had no clue what she would do when she got there but she was she’d figure something out.

“Teris.” Jax prompted.

Teris rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

“No. Not fine.” Jax said.

“Understood.” Teris amended, snidely.

Jax's eyes narrowed. He tried to recall if Teris had always been this difficult or if Yami was rubbing off on her a little too much. He fixed his gaze on Yami. “No deviations. No delays. You don’t let her out of your sight when the mission is over. Knock her out and carry her back if you have to.”

Yami almost made a joke but took in the Captain's expression and Ki. He shifted on his feet. “Really?”

“Yes, Yami! Really!” Jax ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

Yami looked at Teris out of the corner of his eye. It had only been four hours since he had seen both her and Jax at breakfast. What had Teris done in that time to rile their Captain up like this?

“Jax. The Sliver Eagles are here. Quit badgering your squad members and let them head out.” Greywright told.

Cob opened a portal to the labyrinth.

Greywright looked at Fuegoleon. “You have the countdown stones for each of the teams. Vault or not, be on your way out with no less than an hour and a half remaining. I don’t want anyone stuck in there when this thing disappears. Got it.”

“Yes, Commander.” Fuegoleon nodded.

Nozel and Neyres were sweaty and out of breath from their sparing session. The two Silver Eagles looked at their fellows wondering what was going on.

“I’ll explain as we head in.” Fuegoleon told the Silver Eagles, leading them through the portal.

As soon as the group was gone Cob closed the portal.

Eyes on Jax, Greywright ordered the Spatial Mage. “Wait outside if you would, Cob.”

“Yes, Sir.” Cob said, cheerily.

When the front door closed behind Cob the Magic Knight’s Commander stormed. “You told Teris it was Zara’s own squad? What the hell were you thinking?”

Jax shook his head. “I told Teris nothing. She overheard Julius telling me what he heard some Purple Orcas say.”

Greywright frowned. “Julius told me the same.”

“And?” Jax inquired.

“And what? It’s hardly enough to bring them in for questioning.”

“They’re Magic Knights.” Jax argued. “We should expect questions. Especially when one of our own, a member of their squad, is killed. Zara didn’t die on some mission or battlefield. The man was off duty--”

“We’re never off duty.” Greywright cut over him.

“He was in his home. His son was there.” Jax said.

“And there might have been a different outcome if the boy had seen something.” Greywright said.

“Who’s to say he didn’t? Maybe he’s too afraid to talk. Or has blocked it from his mind. Did Ellara have a look? Did any memory or communication mage? Or are you all too afraid to look too hard cause you’ll have to do something about it?”

“Careful, Captain.”

“I mean Zara Ideale might’ve been a Magic Knight. But like most of my squad, he wasn’t really one of you all. Was he? His life and service didn’t really matter. Did it? He was a commoner. A peas--”

Greywright’s mana cloaked fist hit the stone wall. Several large rocks crumbled and fell. Cracks broke through the surrounding stones. Spider web fractures splintered through the grout from ceiling to floor. Voice dangerously calm, the Magic Knights Commander warned. “Next time it’ll be your face.”

Jax stared at Greywright moment then lowered his gaze.

“The case is closed.” Greywright said. “Zara Ideale died in an unfortunate attack that we will never understand or have answers to. Magic Investigations combed the scene. They spoke to everyone in town and interviewed his squad members. It seems the man was loved by all. He had no enemies. No outstanding debts. He rarely drank and didn’t gamble. Everything he made went to provide for his son or help his less fortunate neighbors in and around the town he lived.”

“Julius heard--”

“Julius heard something that could’ve been anything.” Greywright interrupted. “He didn’t even see their faces. What do you want, Jax? You want us to question the entire Purple Orcas squad about something Julius overheard? Even if anyone admits to being party to such a conversation it could easily be explained away as the most benign thing.”

“Ellara--”

“Isn’t going to enter the minds of upstanding Magic Knights so we can find out if they murdered one of their own.” Greywright told. “Do you have any idea the fuss that would cause? Not just with the other Magic Knights but with the ranking classes?”

“If it were one of mine dead I’d freely volunteer if there was a chance justice could be served.” Jax said.

“Leave it, Jax. Do the smart thing. Follow Julius’ lead. Much as he doesn’t like it, he’s letting it go. You need to do the same. You need to get Teris to do the same. She’ll run into or have to work with someone from the Purple Orcas eventually. I can’t be worrying about what she’ll do when that day comes. She’s yours. Accident or not, you’re the reason she knows. Fix it.”

“Knows what?” Jax asked, latching onto the phrase. “You said it was something we’ll never understand or know the answer to. So what would she know?”

Greywright growled, mana rising again. Did Jax think he liked this? Refusing to dig deeper because of what they might find. He was following orders. And it wasn’t easy for Sir Jorah to make those orders. But the Wizard King did what he had to for the sake of the kingdom and the Magic Knights. “Enough. You’re beginning to make this difficult on me.”

“Good. It should be.”

“We live to defend and serve the kingdom and its people. Sadly that comes with every sort of danger imaginable. Even sadder. Sometimes we die.” Greywright said.

Jax shook his head. “Not at home. Not by attack from--”

“If you say ‘from one of our own’ Jax Jerren, I swear this squad will have a new Captain by the end of the hour.”

Teeth tightly clenched, a muscle in Jax’s jaw ticked.

The possible truth behind Zara Ideale’s death and Sir Jorah ordering the case closed with no findings had disenfranchised Greywright to the point he had seriously considered handing in his resignation. What further disturbed him was the reason that he hadn’t. It had nothing to do with his promise to serve Sir Jorah until the man retired. Nor was it because of anything the Wizard King had said. The reason Greywright remained was because of Julius’ suspicions about Ellara. Greywright still had his doubts, but they weren’t as firmly held as they once had been. If Ellara was working with the Agents of Chaos and using her magic to effect the Wizard King, Greywright couldn’t leave. He owed it to Sir Jorah, to his Captain's and Magic Knight’s to make certain no one was controlling the Wizard King.

“It isn’t right.” Jax said.

Shoulders slumped, Greywright turned toward the door. “There’s a lot in this world that isn’t right.”

79.3

Yami stood beside Teris at the mouth of the geyser labyrinth. He had thought that once away from Jax she would calm. But the opposite happened. Her mana flow becoming so rough and volatile he had to take a side step away from her to keep his harnessed.

Fuegoleon looked over the Magic Knights. A spiteful, personal side of him wanted to put Yami and Teris on separate teams. But like it or not, they worked better together. And without Teris or someone Yami marginally respected, who would make Yami submit and obey?

Fuegoleon sighed and ordered. “Yami. Teris. You’re with me and Randall.”

Nozel looked at the acting Vice Captain. He wanted to challenge the call. But after the unquestioning support Fuegoleon had shown him during his time as acting Captain. He didn’t feel it would be right.

Fuegoleon gave Nozel and Hamon, from the Golden Dawn, a time stone and copies of the mapped areas of the labyrinth. “Nozel, you have Neyres, Charlotte, and Fraya. Hamon, take William, Jack and En. You heard Commander Greywright. Vault or not. Give yourselves at least an hour and a half to make your way back out. Nozel, take the left split. Hamon the center.” He looked at Randall, Teris, and Yami. “We’ll take the right. Be careful and good luck.”

The three teams entered the labyrinth and went their separate ways.

Fuegoleon, Yami, Randall, and Teris well into the labyrinth when Randall commented. “It’s almost like we’re back in the Diamond Kingdom.”

“Hardly.” Fuegoleon said.

“Well, we’re missing Nozel and--” Randall fell silent.

Teris glanced at the Crimson Lion. “Can’t even say his name.” Her nose wrinkled, lip curling. “You disgust me.”

Fuegoleon watched his cousin take point despite her not having a map. Randall made to speak, but the acting Vice Captain held up a silencing hand and shook his head.

Yami pulled up the rear, following in line behind Randall. He looked up a head taking in Teris’ straight back and stiff shoulders, once again wondering what had gotten to her. She had been fine this morning. A little somber and more temperamental than usual, but much better than she had been during the first week after Zara’s death. He knew she harassed Jax daily, inquiring what Magic Investigations had found and when the full report on Zara’s case would be filed and ready for viewing. Maybe the report had come in and she hadn’t liked what it said? But even if Magic Investigations hadn’t found the culprits. Whatever info they discovered might lead to finding them. Teris might’ve been disappointed by such a report, but she wouldn’t be angry.

“To the right.” Fuegoleon said, looking at the map.

Teris took the sharp left turn.

“I said right.” When Teris didn’t turn back, Fuegoleon hurried his steps. “Teris!”

Teris kept on walking.

Fuegoleon grabbed her arm and spun her around. “ Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me. I said we’re going to the right.”

“That’s the wrong way.” Teris said.

Fuegoleon waved the map in front of her. “The map clearly shows--”

“Then the map is wrong.” Teris said.

Fuegoleon took a breath, trying to control his rising temper. “The map shows where those before us have traveled. Someone already went the way you’re going. There’s nothing down there.”

“There’s something definitely down there.” Teris looked at the three men. “Do none of you sense it? Really?”

“Sense what?” Fuegoleon asked.

“Maybe it’s a beast or some left over trap.” Randall offered, knowing a royals magical sense was far better.

Teris looked at Yami, hope and question in her eyes.

Yami stayed silent a moment, focusing his Ki and magical senses down the path. He looked at Teris almost apologetically. “I don’t sense anything.”

Teris’ shoulders sagged, even as she insisted. “There’s something down there.”

“What sort of something?” Fuegoleon asked, impatience making his voice sharp. They didn’t have time for this. They had already lost twenty minutes when Captain Jax had refused the Purple Orcas and called for Commander Greywright.

“I don’t know. But it’s powerful.” Teris said.

“A powerful trap or beast?” Randall questioned.

“No.” Teris snapped.

“So you don’t know what it is, but you know what it isn’t.” Randall said.

“Leave her alone.” Yami rumbled. He looked at Teris. “I believe you.”

“Well now I feel so much better. Yami Sukehiro believes his girlfriend.” Randall drawled.

“Hush.” Fuegoleon commanded his friend. He turned to his cousin. “We’re turning around and going to the right. That’s an order. Don’t like it. You can head back out and wait.”

“Fine.” Teris snapped. She looked over her shoulder down the path then headed back to the main tunnel.

Fuegoleon gave a nod of satisfaction and led Yami and Randall in following her. Fuegoleon frowned when Teris didn’t head down the path he had instructed. Teris turned back up the tunnel they had been traveling that would lead her back out.

Fuegoleon sighed, exasperated. “You can’t be serious.”

“You told me to head back out if I didn’t like it. Well, I don’t like wasting my time so I’m heading back out.” Teris said.

Fuegoleon ground his teeth. He didn’t have time for this. “Stay just inside the entrance.”

Teris waved and continued on her way. Yami passed Fuegoleon, following her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Fuegoleon questioned Yami.

Yami looked back over his shoulder. “Do you really have to ask? Good luck, acting Lion King. Don’t die down here. Or do. See if I care.”

Fuegoleon spun around heading down the soft sloping curve to the right. “Randall. Let’s go.”

Teris walked another hundred paces and stopped.

Yami halted a step behind her. “You’re about to do something I would do.”

“Yeah well. What can I say? You’ve rubbed off on me.” Teris replied.

Yami’s eyes lowered to take in her backside.

Teris turned around. She a lifted an eyebrow.

Caught in the act of appreciating her form, Yami smirked. “This is the part where you usually try to reason with me. I should probably do the same. But all I can think of is rubbing off on you some more.”

“Yami. Can you focus.” Teris chided, lightly.

Yami looked her over. “I am focused.”

“On finding out what’s down there.” Teris said.

Yami slipped his hands into his pockets. “Not sure that’s a good idea.”

“You said you believed me.”

“I do. That’s not the problem.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Teris questioned.

“We don’t have a map to mark and follow to get out.” Yami said, knowing how easy such a thing could be worked around.

“We can set blazes in the rock.” Teris said.

“And we don’t have a time stone telling us how much time’s left before this thing closes up and disappears.” Yami said.

Teris paused at that.

The fact that she was still considering doing this. The fact that she had planned on doing it at all. It told Yami that whatever she felt down there was pretty strong and inciting.

Looking about the tunneled cave, Yami sighed. “Tell you what. I’m gonna round the time remaining down to four hours. And we have to head back out with two hours left.”

“Two! Greywright and Fuegoleon said an hour and a half.”

Yami crossed his arms. “So now you want to listen to the Lion Cub?”

Teris looked away.

“That leaves you two hours, Princess.”

“Me?” Teris questioned.

Yami grinned. “Don’t worry. You’re not getting rid of me that easily. But I’m following your lead on this.”

“Thank you.” Teris smiled.

“You’re gonna owe me something big for this.” Yami told.

“I’m alright with that.”

Yami grew serious. “Soon as I call time we head back. No arguments, Teris. I have no problem hauling you out carried over my shoulder.

Teris gave a nod. “Deal.”

“Let’s go.” Yami sighed, already regretting this.

Teris set the blazes into the rock while Yami focused on keeping his breathing even as his counted down their time. They had walked for roughly an hour and a half, and never once happened upon a trap. It seemed as if someone had indeed come this way as there were faded blazes set into the stone. As for creatures. It was possible they sensed the same thing Teris did; but unlike her, were repelled by it.

“Thirty minutes left.” Yami told.

Teris continued walking without a word.

Yami scrutinized her as he followed. He wondered what she would do if time was up before she reached whatever it was she sensed. Yami had begun to feel something as well. Though it had happened so slowly, like a rising sun, that he couldn’t say exactly when the feeling begun. It was sort of a teasing tickle of warmth. He wanted to ask Teris more about what she sensed. What it felt like. How she knew something was there. But he didn’t want to disrupt his breathing and mess up his counting of time. He had rounded up every so often preferring to have them head back with more than two hours remaining rather than less. He just hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in agreeing to this. It was almost as if Teris was in a sort of trance. He should have made her promise. Deals could be broken. Renegotiated. But promises. They had yet to break a promise they had made to each other.

As they went on Yami began to squint though he didn't know why. The tunnel was no different. The surrounding magical glow providing just enough light to see. A sort of hum rang in his ears, distant but constant. He began to sweat, the coolness of the labyrinth turning uncomfortably warm.

A sense of foreboding squeezed at Yami’s gut. “We should head back.”

“How much time is left?” Teris asked.

“Teris--”

“How much time?” Teris persisted.

“Five minutes.” Yami told.

“Then give me five minutes.” Teris said, without glancing his way.

Yami took her hand as they turned another sharp corner, not wanting her out of sight or out of reach. The turn led to a dead end.

The tempting, more sensed than heard, whisper that had first lured Teris down the left path had grown louder and more insistence the closer they drew. Frustratingly, the voice hadn’t gotten any clearer. She still couldn’t understand what it said. As soon as she came face to face with the stone dead end the voice had ceased, leaving a distant ringing hum in her ears. As if her ears were trying to compensate for the voices absence.

Yami released her hand and placed his hand on the small of her back. “Time’s up, Teris. Let’s go.”

“It’s here! Just behind this wall.” Teris said.

Yami frowned. He didn’t doubt something was on the other side. But his gut told him it was something they shouldn't mess with. “I believe you. We just don’t have time to break a wall down. We have to head back.”

“But...” Teris fell silent. Her hands pressed flat against the solid stone barrier.

Yami fought the urge to pull her back from the rock face. He didn’t know why he was so unnerved. “Come on, Teris. You agreed.”

Teris stared at the wall willing something to happen. Something to show itself. She urged the wall to disappear. Or the voice to return. Anything. But nothing happened. There was no doubt that something was on the other side. Maybe it wasn’t meant for her.

Teris sighed in frustration. “Fine.”

Yami relaxed then immediately tensed. Teris looked back at him, feeling it too. It started as a low vibration and quickly built. The cave floor and surrounding walls quaking. Yami reached for Teris but was too late. The wall came alive, swallowing her.

“Teris!” Yami pulled his katana from its scabbard. Cloaking it in darkness and himself in mana skin, he called upon all his strength and slashed out at the rock face in three quick successions.

79.3.2

“Yami!” Teris pounded on the rock wall.

She stepped back and raised a hand to blast a hole through the stone face. A rustling caught her attention. She turned, eyes darting around the enclosed space. A skeletal corpse rose up from the ground. Teris directed an outstretched palm at the mummified figure.

“I’d rather not hurt you.” Teris said, a faint waver to her voice. Frightful as it was to see a dead body come to life, the scholarly side of her couldn’t help but look on in wonder. Could a living dead body feel pain? Was it even still a person? “I just want to get out of here.”

The corpses jaw fell open. A bright golden light emanated from its mouth.

“I’ve been waiting for you. Ray of Annihilation.” A voice rasped in Teris’ head.

The hair on Teris’ neck stood on end. She had been called ‘Ray of Annihilation’ before. Once when Iban used his magic against her. And again by Alowishus Spade. Yet it wasn’t the title that made her skin prickle. It was the corpses voice. It resonated with something inside her, carrying a familiarity.

“Who are you? Why did you call me here?” Teris demanded.

Again the voice, as dry and brittle as the mummified body standing before her, sounded in Teris’ head. “I am the Light Bringer. The Harbinger. I called you here so I could fulfill my destiny and finally rest.”

Teris stepped back. Her outstretched hand half lowered. Her other hand reached behind her, touching the wall that had swallowed her. “Why call me?”

“The Lord of Destruction is coming.” The voice rasped like dry sand swirling in the wind.

“He’ll tear this place apart trying to get to me.” Teris said.

“He will do much more than that for you. And you for him.”

“Are you similar to the page of Chaos?” Teris asked.

“I was a girl. Blessed with light magic but not Light itself.”

Teris’ hand lowered fully, curious interest overshadowing wary concern. “You’re referring to the primordial forces the Agents of Chaos are obsessed with.”

“You hold the creation of Life and Chaos. You are Light given form. Death’s greatest enemy.”

“By Death, you mean Alowishus Spade? He has death magic.”

“Death needs you to wield his creation to his will. Death and Chaos made the Darkness. But only Light can bend Darkness. Only Darkness can shape Light. Light cannot exist without Darkness. Nor can Darkness exist without Light.”

“What does Spade want?” Teris asked.

“That is not my reasoning.”

“Then what do you want? Why did call me here?”

“I am the Light Bringer. The Harbinger. I called you here so I could fulfill my destiny and finally rest.”

“Yeah. You said that already.” Teris readied her stance. “Get on with it then. Fulfill your destiny.”

“I nearly have.”

Teris looked herself over, taking stock. She felt no different. Looked no different. Lifting her gaze, she looked at the corpse. “No offense. But if you’re my Harbinger. How is it that you’re locked up in here, nothing but a dried up husk?”

“I am the Light Bringer. The Harbinger of Darkness. I called you here so I could fulfill my destiny and finally rest.”

A cold prickle shot up Teris’ spine. Her heart clenched, even as it raced. “You said nothing about being the Harbinger of Darkness the first two--”

Teris stopped. Her breath fogged, the air suddenly filled with a permeating cold. Her feet shifted at an invisible pull. As if the earths natural gravity was unseated. The constant, steady tug came from the stone wall. No. It came from who was on the other side of the stone wall.

“Yami.” Teris breathed. She stepped to the corpse. “Let me out!”

The glow within the skeletons mouth dimmed. “I can finally rest.”

The mummified remains collapsed into a pile of ash. Teris spun to face the rock wall, hand lifted to incinerate the barrier. But the wall broke apart before she could call upon her magic. The once solid slab of stone exploded out in a mass of pulverized rock. Before it could reach her, the debris was sucked back by the new gravity field.

“Yami!” Teris rushed to him only to skid to a halt.

Yami’s warm tan eyes had been replaced by black bottomless pools reminiscent of the small black holes he created with his magic. He had his own gravity field which was growing stronger by the second. Teris’ arms pinwheeled, her boots sliding along the ground, pulled closer to him. She created a magical sword of light and thrust it into the rock floor, holding on to stop from being drawn in.

Yami radiated a biting cold that burned as badly as any heat Teris could create. Teris’ hands dried and cracked in the bitter air. The skin around her knuckles split open; blood freezing before it could spill. Her cramping hands lost all sensation. Fingertips turning blue, then purple.

Teris stared at her love. What had she done? This was all her fault. If only... “Yami. I’m sorry I led us here. Please. Please, come back to me.”

Inky black waves rolled off Yami like smoke from a hearth. The wisps of darkness consuming everything they touched. The tangible dark plumes squeezed the space, choking the air out of the cavern. The light of Teris’ magical sword began to dim. Not because Teris’ mana was draining. But because of the void Yami was producing. It was smothering her magics light faster than the light could cast.

“Yami! Please! I can’t do this without you. I need you. I love you. I came back to you. Please! Come back to me!”

Even more quickly than Yami had broken through the wall, the darkness emanating from him pulled in on itself like the snap of a bow string. Teris was lifted off her feet, yanked horizontal to the ground. Cloaked in mana she held onto her wavering sword of light hoping it and her strength held. Boulders bigger than Pilfer and No Name broke off from the cavern walls and went flying. Sucked up into the retreating darkness.

In a fraction of an instant the darkness and its immense pull were gone. Teris fell to the stone floor with a thud, magic sword and mana skin disappearing. Yami’s eyes returned to their natural tawny brown. Breathing heavily Teris rolled over. She already loved Yami’s warm, tender eyes but decided in that moment that they were most beautiful color in existence.

“I told you. Let’s go.” Yami’s eyes slipped closed as he spoke the last two words.

Teris rushed forward and caught him. Or at least tried to. They fell together as she tried but was unable to bare his weight, too shaken and weakened.

“Yami. I’m so sorry.” Teris pulled his torso onto her lap, hugging him close.

A great rumble sounded. The entire space trembling with its vibration. Teris looked about, body shielding Yami’s unconscious form. The labyrinth couldn’t be closing. Could it? That much time hadn’t passed. Had it?

The geyser labyrinth had a powerful mana coursing through it that hindered ones magic. As such Teris hadn’t been able to light travel. But that overwhelming mana had disappeared. Teris didn’t take the time to wonder how such a disrupting mana pool could come from a mummified corpse. Nor did she think on anything that had occurred.

Holding onto Yami, Teris light traveled. They appeared on a grassy knoll a couple hundred meters away from the labyrinths entrance just as the entrance crumbled and disappeared. She had a moment of relief at seeing the others standing a ways from the vanished entrance. Glad they had made it out safely. Then she fell over on top of Yami, succumbing to hypothermia.

Wishing you all a Happy Christmas and/or Happy Holiday's.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They really mean a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

Greywright cleared his throat. This was becoming uncomfortable even for him. And the Magic Knights Commander had both seen and given his fair share of dressing downs over the years. Even though Yami had played a part and stood beside Teris, Jax mainly addressed his scathing remarks to Teris. Greywright wondered how much longer the two could take it. Though they both remained at attention. Teris seemed to sink further and further with every word. While Yami’s muscles tensed and trembled, hands balling into fists.

#yami sukehiro #julius novachrono #nozel silva #fuegoleon vermillion #black clover jack the ripper #Charlotte Roselei #Black Clover #light in the darkness

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herefortheartstayforthesexy · 3 years

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I pulled this from an article on that off duty female firefighters account of George Floyd’s murder and alarms went off immediately - so many things are made clear in how the cops responded to her here, a woman who’s more their peer and team mate than ANY ONE:

-They don’t believe her when she says she’s a firefighter [because she’s a woman, and someone will certainly jump in and posit that a white guy saying the same thing would get the same response from the cops but .....I really don’t think so, I think we’re kidding ourselves when we pretend that equality is our cultures norm and not segregation and actual genocide and systemic racism and obvious sexism, seen in our disregarding/discrediting/cheapening everything that is feminine, like fucking feelings😤. Those cops would have recognized themselves in another guy claiming his skill set and even if they wouldn’t have let him check George’s pulse while he was dying, they would have for SURE treated him with more respect and with the assumption that he’s telling the truth if he exhibits enough “friendly qualities” aka be white, be male, not be dressed in clothes that look ‘urban’ or homeless (because a homeless white guy is just a failure which is unamerican 🙄) qualities which are literally a result of *luck* [white, man] and superficiality+privilege [money to buy clothes that make others more comfortable]

-‘you would know better’ is a totally infantilizing tone to take with this professional woman, and ultimately she DID KNOW BETTER THAN THEM and had they let her do what she knew was right to do a person would still be alive [like, piece of shit Derek Whatever should be fucking WISHING he had listened to her in that fucking moment every day for the rest of his life, it should haunt him that he let his surrounding fucked up culture of white supremacy and male-coddling move him to murder a man over a $20 bill instead of listen to a woman, or listen to a child, or listen to someone crying, or listen to someone with no money - he should be the poster child of “yo, we white men NEED everyone else around us and we should start acting like it, NOW” that’s literally what “make space” means, because too many men need to move out of the fucking way, like “let the grown ups talk” “let them work”, “let them save lives” I am so sick of LETTING cops play action hero with real guns and imagined ‘enemies’ in their real neighbors bodies - they shouldn’t ever be working with a defense mindset, it should be “support the community”, their intentions and goals should be *sooooo feminine* and rooted in love and care and family projected onto their country at large, their home🏠=their home🌎

- If/then statements become instantly threatening when someone’s life is immediately at stake, it’s an aggressor and his buddies telling you to get out of their way, to shut the fuck up

-....”you’d know not to get involved” WHAT THE FUCK she is part of the team of emergency responders in our country and she SHOULD get involved when she sees something that she can take care of - like a man with a swollen face smashed into the ground and a blocked air pipe and weakened heart rate - that is exactly her fucking job and how she knows to do it [all stories of off-duty cops running around discharging their weapons and making arrests without wearing their uniforms - we’re supposed to be fine with that, but not when the other emergency peeps try to apply their experience?? In this case where there was no threat to anyone as George was HANDCUFFED AND LOSING CONSCIOUSNESS surrounded by three cops and a crowd upset to be watching them kill him. cops constantly demand all this respect in response to their abuse and demand that citizens suspend their logic and their fucking freedom to exist so cops can “do their jobs” and we can’t complain, we can’t protest their bad job, we can’t give them *any* attitude at any time while they harass us even if they aren’t dressed as such..... but none of these special rules apply to anyone else.... like, cops fail the golden rule from the outset 🤨

The fact that a murderer who used to make money as a cop [because to be clear, being a cop isn’t a personality trait, it signifies no goodness, no heroism, nothing more than a job, a job people do to get money, it’s not heroic to get a chunk of cash after “triaging a childs gun shot wounded leg” especially considering the violence that cause that child’s injury was propagated by the violent and militant policing of their community...so cops have literally set the stage perfectly for all their “acts of heroism”and bonus! They get bonuses/pay increases when the crimes rates are “really🤑bad” like HELLO!!!]

that these spineless men can actually rest on the defense of “it was the black mans fault that he was killed, it was the counterfeit bills callers fault, it was the crowds fault for making us nervous and being threatening to us and angry at the sight of a man being slowly murdered in front of them” - the crowd was mostly people of color, young kids, and this firefighter who made a point of staying behind because she was concerned for the safety of her black neighbors *while police were around*

😑I need fucking Queen amidala in the center of the senate saying “the people have spoken and we vote no confidence” fire all cops, tell them “we set up this new protective agency, you can apply but we cannot promise you’ll get this job, you’ll have to PROVE IT that you can even do it” because I’ve never seen men spoken to like that,

I constantly hear how women and bipoc “just need to find another job” when they are in a tough spot with bad treatment, harassment, low pay, hours, etc, (these are almost always service jobs that entertain/benefit wealthy people, like waiters, like strippers, like masseuses, like fast food workers, like cheerleaders, like maids, like nannies, the rich seem to be in this cycle of consuming without resistance for as long as they possibly can, then if/when anyone brings up how it’s kind of dangerous and there should be a better way they say “well fucking fine! Just shut it down, we didn’t even NEED it, this was a pointless job anyways so now it doesn’t exist” it’s a shitty breakup - it’s the other person responding to your valid criticism and willingness to work together to improve the relationship “well I didn��t even like you and you’re ugly so” 🙄Cool!

~Whyyyyy don’t wealthy/privileged people get called out for all their daily bridge burning??? [the answer is unfortunately because they were burning bridges with people no one cared about - like the workers of a Taco Bell, or the child of a black man murdered by cops, or a teenage girl raped by an executive who invited her to his office for “an interview” - no one tells all the many people involved in letting abuse continue not to burn bridges with their victims, with all of THOSE people, because our culture doesn’t respect them. hence #blm #metoo #transrights etc, the real theme is “we’re not white straight men” white supremacy needs to die a horrible painful, ugly, honorless, despicable death~

So the wealthy creates the job, labels it from the get go “not worthy of respect”, enjoys without consequences, abuses, pretends that it’s the fault of the worker for their pay and that they receive no respect [✨gaslighting✨]...... and when that worker decides that their dignity isn’t worth 8.25 an hour, the wealthy response is to either fire the easily replacable body whose Heath is clearly of no importance to them [if it was we’d have universal heathcare] or just erase that job entirely that serves as someone’s lifeline, their survival, because abusing vulnerable people bears no weight on their own wealthy existence, with all their options. bill gates doesn’t give a shit when a subway closes, but that subway was not only the job/livelihoods of a whole team of people who *hopefully* live nearby with their families [and not three different bus rides away in a more “diverse” neighborhood 🙄], that subway also fed the community when they wanted lunch/dinner or wanted a sandwich snack or something warm, and didn’t have the time or the ingredients or the know how or *bodily ability* to do it themselves. To so many nameless/non celebrity people, that closing is catastrophic and in some cases threatening to their life.

We dismiss little lives and simple lives so ruthlessly, a man could be perfectly happy heading a subway for 35 years if he was paid respectfully by his employer and treated respectfully by everyone [if We had a subway guy like that, we’d love him! We’d know his name and he’d know ours and our faves and our goals and we could ask how his three kids are without hanging our heads in shame knowing he makes no more than $30,000 a year as a manager which is NOT AT ALL ENOUGH for either him alone or his lovely family that he loves so much - and this hypothetical is annoying already because we shouldn’t pay people a certain amount *because they are good*, people should be paid an amount that allows them to access the things that help them and enrich them, make them happier, healthier, make *choices* that lead to goodness for sure - but we can’t fucking expect people living in poverty now to prove to us that they’ll use their money “appropriately” - it starts with us helping them up

We couldn’t let restaurants/grocery stores close during the pandemic, that alone proved that we need these people who just flip burgers and stack cans - and we need them to be well paid, and healthy and happy

it is always those vulnerable individuals responsibility to find a new employer, not for structures of power to end discriminatory practices and mistreatment [uwu, too hard, thanks for making this laziness in our leaders possible white supremacy! It’s going so great😒] I’d like for white male cops to feel that vulnerability FOR ONCE [even just in conversation, even in a hypothetical] and have to consider winning a new job, and winning it based on actual merit and skill, not the fact that their fellow white dude bosses feel most comfortable with them in the locker room 🙄

if the larger portion of the community that doesn’t subscribe to white supremacy has no confidence in the men and women whose jobs it is to protect them and ‘serve justice’ then we need to adjust, not throw more money at the privileged, brainwashed fuck ups and say “here’s more money to be less monstrous” I really don’t get why anyone is surprised these tiny, insignificant, performative measures don’t result in any positive change - because we’re not tackling the actual issues and unfortunately for dipshits, *racism/sexism/classism* is the entire issue that needs to be handled - the issue is simply that some humans don’t think another group of humans deserve their respect [and I don’t want to hear that that’s how the animal kingdom works because fuck that, we’re thinking and *feeling* humans and that places us on a higher plane of existence and potential - to not know that we’re better than *this* is so fucking offensive, and we can’t keep moving as slowly as white straight ass holes, everything is on fire]

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dirtyfilthy · 3 years

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The Betrayal Of Chelsea Manning By The Coward Adrian Lamo

I have only participated in “cancel culture” once that I can remember. Once, over the broad course of my life, and that was when Adrian Lamo sold Chelsea Manning out to the authorities. Motherfucker has the sheer gall to call himself a hacker, and then rats someone out — not because of his principles, but from a constant desire for pure narcissistic supply -- and all this from a position of trust no less…

I was real angry, and I wanted to put the boot in, any way I could. There was a special circle of hell reserved for people like Adrian Lamo… and as it would turn out, he was already in it.

Amongst petty vendettas like stuffing his wikipedia page with all the well referenced dirt I could dig up, along the way, and kind of by-the-by, I ended up doing a lot of research on the guy, and then, well, the picture of Lamo that emerged…

Jesus.

He’s been a hardcore benzo addict since his twenties. If you know what to look for you can tell in some of his interviews, slurring his words and looking very spacey. He never really had a real job, never broke into the industry he was aways on the fringes of. It’s kinda crazy, if you search for “homeless hacker Adrian Lamo” you can still see what the mass media thought of him before he turned in Chelsea.

He’d kind of weaselled his way into popular consciousness by being a shameless self-promoter, and then managing to get caught in that spectacular “rebellious teenage hacker” vs. “huge faceless corporation” way that tends to capture people’s imagination.

There were whole articles about him in Wired. Multiple in fact. Here’s one of earliest from 2004 (unfortunately now behind a paywall), “New York Times vs The Homeless Hacker”. The first few lines can still give you the gist, however

A self-styled security expert and serial self-promoter, Adrian Lamo made headlines as a grayhat hacker. Then the Gray Lady came down on his head. Not long ago Adrian Lamo was exploring an abandoned gypsum processing plant in West Philadelphia with two friends, when a police cruiser drove slowly by. Lamo’s friends were high on methamphetamines…

https://www.wired.com/2004/04/hacker-5/

Even during this phase of his life, a lot of people in the scene didn’t like him. At least, there were people complaining on hacker boards about him stealing exploits and then burning them for the publicity. In the end he got off with probation and home detention, and that was the end of blatantly hacking into shit. Any more and he would certainly end up in prison. Attitudes were changing, the authorities had stopped seeing hacking as just high-spirited teenage hijinks. and the increasingly severe penalties could land you some serious time.

After this, he just sorted floated around. He never got job in the industry like the rest of us, and I suspect he may have been basically unemployable for one reason or another. The next time he popped up in my news feed was in 2010 with a strange article from ex-hacker turned journalist and friend of Lamo’s,, Kevin Poulsen — “Ex-Hacker Adrian Lamo Institutionalized, Diagnosed with Asperger’s”

The first paragraph or so reads:

Last month Adrian Lamo, a man once hunted by the FBI, did something contrary to his nature. He says he picked up a payphone outside a Northern California supermarket and called the cops.

Someone, Lamo says, had grabbed his backpack containing the prescription anti-depressants he'd been on since 2004, the year he pleaded guilty to hacking The New York Times. He wanted his medication back. But when the police arrived at the Safeway parking lot it was Lamo, not the missing backpack, that interested them. Something about his halting, monotone speech, perhaps slowed by his medication, got the officers' attention

— (https://www.wired.com/2010/05/lamo/)

The article claimed Lamo had been arrested for acting strangely and then institutionalised, basically claiming the police had arrested him because he was autistic. At the time, I didn’t really give this a second thought, “oh well, ho-hum”. As itt turned out, this was a case of the most spectacular kind of “spin” I think I’ve ever seen; the only place the article actually intersected with general consensual reality was in stating Lamo had been arrested and placed on psychiatric hold.

The real story, which is entirely far more pathetic, was that Lamo’s family had become worried about his benzo use (“prescription anti-depressants”) and had cut him off. He totally lost the plot at this point and stormed out of house. Concerned about his mental state, and with fears for his physical safety, it was actually his own family that called the police to try and find him.

When confronted about this fairly massive discrepancy, Lamo claimed he hadn’t exactly “lied” as such, and had simply withheld some facts due to personal privacy concerns.

It was at this point I finally began to see the whole tattered trajectory of Lamo’s entire life — trace the greasy path of his rainbow with my fingertips, and watch as the once bright twine became increasing gray and frayed as each thread began to curve back towards it’s inevitable impact with the earth, when, at which point, everything important would begin to totally unravel around him.

At his core, Adrian Lamo was a narcissist, and so Adrian Lamo absolutely believed in the Adrian Lamo narrative, as only a narcissist can. Near of beginning of his tale, this was easy to do. He was a wandering Daoist sage, a renegade techno-monk character in a Neal Stephenson cyberpunk novella, and anytime he wanted to see his own reflection he could simply look in any of the major newspapers.

After his arrest and release, the rest of the world moved on. His peers all settled down to well-paid industry gigs, and you couldn’t just pop the New York Times through an open proxy any longer — well, at least: not most of time, anyway. His own sword, never the exactly the sharpest in the first place, was beginning to show some signs of a serious structural rust.

Without the constant assurance of people telling his own story back at him, what was he exactly? What did the mirror portray to him now? An unemployed, semi-homeless drug addict, a hacker who couldn’t hack his way out of wet paper back with pick axe, the tired punch line to any number of bad jokes...

Of course, the many similarities to my own life were not exactly lost on me. I was basically a case of being a few near misses and unlucky hits away from sitting in his exact position. I had made the transition to an industry career successfully, but I was still a drug addict with mental heath issues. I had gone through my own narcissistic stage when I was younger, but thankfully grew out of it, the old moons no longer pulled on my tides the way they used to.

The essential Lamo pattern had began to emerge. Still chasing the same bright stars that had long since sunk beneath the horizon line of the ocean; Lamo would begin to feel irrelevant — Lamo would get then his name in the media in some fashion. A momentary peace was then achieved, then came a brief period of post-orgasmic. cosmic serenity.

But of course, the wheel of karma will not stop spinning for anyone, and so, soon enough and all-to-quickly, the entire process of personal renewal, would have to, you know….. begin anew.

A few other case studies were observed. An unreleased, permanently unfinished documentary featuring Lamo was mysteriously leaked on the internet. Of course, Lamo himself had leaked it. And there was always appearing on various morning television shows, Good Morning America, Fox News & the like.

But then the mother of all opportunities just dropped into his lap.

Chelsea Manning needed someone to talk to.

Chelsea knew Lamo was Bi, so he was at least in the LGBT community. Adrian was a hacker too. He’d fought against the system in his day, he was certainly someone who would “get it”, she was very sure of this. And when she did reach out, he was indeed very sympathetic. Honestly, it seemed like he really cared. Just a genuine human being, reaching out across the vast emotional void to provide a sense of empathy to someone who really, really needed it right now..

He was very sympathetic when Chelsea told him all about her struggles with gender identity, and he was very sympathetic when she said she was leaking gigabytes of information to Wikileaks…. But behind his sunglasses, Lamo eyes had already morphed into a marquee LED matrix endlessly scrolling his own name. Think of the news coverage!

This was big. This was very big.

It would, in fact, turn out to be fucking huge. Of course, within in the hacker scene, and to a certain extent, even outside it, everyone just fucking loathed him now. Eventually even the news moved on, nobody wanted any more interviews, and in the end, when everything has already been all said and done: you are ultimately left with only yourself….

… a pathetic drug addict. Of course, I have to keep telling myself that one point of intersection does not an entire venn diagram or an actual equality make. But I can’t shake the feeling that, perhaps, maybe we weren’t really all that different. Maybe my own betrayals have had the simple luck of being a lot less public.

Perhaps my own sins were just as ugly, but far less ambitious.

Adrian Lamo died alone, from a drug overdose, in a private unit in an aged care facility in Wichita, Kansas. He was 37 years old. An autopsy showed his kidneys were already failing.

I guess Sartre got it wrong. Hell isn’t other people, it’s being left totally alone, with nothing else around but the tedious company of your own terrible self, and of course, the fucker won’t stop talking...

So obviously there was nothing more I could do to hurt Adrian Lamo, nothing that Adrian Lamo hadn’t done already. He had long since locked himself away in a prison cell of his own making. I do wonder if maybe one too many silent 3am’s hadn’t come crawling around the clock face when he was there & awake to witness it, lying in bed & staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about things.

Like I’m doing.

Shit, I hope don’t go out that way.

#adrian lamo #chelsea manning #nonfiction #creative nonfiction

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bubblyani · 4 years

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Deeper Relations :02

(Freddie Jackson x Reader)

A Freddie Jackson Multi Chapter Series

Chapter 02: The Confusion

Summary: Being the youngest sister of Jackie and Maggie, you were quite young when Freddie Jackson went to prison. Upon his return, you cannot help but recall your innocent love you had for him back then. And surprised by your transformation into womanhood, Freddie cannot help but form a desire towards you. Will a dangerously seductive attraction grow between the two of you? What will be the consequences?

Requested by: @97freaknik Thank you for your detailed request 😘

Author’s Note: Sorry for the major delay. Busy schedule had been keeping me distracted. Can’t wait to explore this story further. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 HERE

“Oh hoho! Did she now? Hehehe...She sounds quite feisty” “She is...but...” “But what?” “Eh...I don’t know if I’m feeling it”

Your eyes may have been on your Professor, enthusiastically sharing his knowledge with his students. But your eyes, they could not help but roll upon hearing the conversation that took place right beside you. French History apparently seemed moot to the two young men sitting next to you. Shaking your head gently, you simply could not believe they were actually who you called friends.

“But I don’t understand…” Marcus began, “The first few days you were mad about the woman, and now this? What’s wrong with you, mate?” He asked Heath.

“Yeah…what is wrong with you?” You hissed, agreeing with him as you and Marcus both looked at him with judgmental eyes. Heath, the blonde merely shrugged his broad shoulders. Chuckling, Marcus nudged him in the shoulder.

“Really can’t make up ya mind, can ya?” He teased. “Piss Off!”

Smiling, you focused on your notes once again, scribbling away any important notes your ears could grasp on.

Guess it was certainly true: Young men really do have a hard time deciding when it came to relationships. No wonder it annoyed you.

Why must they abide with this general law? Why can’t they all take a stand and make a change? Why can’t they be like their older counterparts? Like Freddie for exam-

Your scribbling suddenly halted, making your eyebrows furrow with confusion. Why all the sudden would your thoughts steer towards Freddie? Out of all people in the world, why take him as an example? Rubbing your temples, you forced yourself out of the confusion, by diving into the professor’s enthusiastic voice once again.

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Family dinner was always a joyous occasion, and seeing the family being completed brought warmth to your heart.The atmosphere at home seemed livelier with Freddie around again. Being back in his usual business, he remained as you remembered him to be. His jokes made all of you smile whilst the meals were prepared and the table was set. After years of prison, You wondered it had changed Freddie for better. Given how you much you knew him, you figured it was not that much.

Lena, your mother, Maggie and Jimmy, Jackie and Freddie with the children; you watched all of them with an affectionate feeling. You certainly adored their company, but in large group settings like these, you truthfully preferred to be one of the silent observers with very little engaging. Though you were the youngest amongst the sisters, you felt like the middle child on most occasions. And you did not mind. You indulged in the invisibility, listening to the stories of others, laughing alongside them. But as soon as Lena Summers raised her fork up, pointing it towards your direction, you knew you were being steered into the dreaded conversation.

“So, Y/N…How’s your friend?”

As you swallowed the roasted potatoes, you felt all eyes on you.

“Friend?” You asked, with a chuckle, “You have to be more specific, Mum”

“You know...your friend…” Lena flashed a knowing smile, “…from university”

Completely clueless, you detested the silence that had overcome the atmosphere. As if he read your thoughts, Freddie suddenly cleared his throat, signaling the others to resume eating. Only by hearing the sound of cutlery did you feel calm.

“You mean Molly?” You asked, proceeding to eat, “She’s doing alright-”

“No No No…” your mother interrupted, “ I mean...that nice boy...which one was it? Ah yes Marcus. How is he?”

Still quite clueless, you kept looking at the food on your plate.

“He’s quite alright” you replied, looking up “Mum, why are you so curious about him?” “Nothing...he seems like a nice boy” “Yes, I suppose he is” You said, nodding as she was right about him. You would have never befriended him if he were a bad egg. “Why don’t you consider him then?” Eyes widened, you stared at your mother with shock upon hearing her inquiry. Being the youngest, you were always teased about not having a steady boyfriend yet. Little did you know this would come up so soon at dinner. “Mum…WHAT?” You yelled. “Why not? You’re old enough” Jackie casually joining in the conversation made you even more uncomfortable. “You too, Jackie?” Turning to her, you exclaimed, “Wha-firstly how do you all even know so much-” pausing, you looked over to the other sister, “Maggie! Did you tell them?”

With Jimmy’s arm over her shoulder, Maggie Summers sat there, guilt evident in her eyes. Being the only family member you trusted enough to vent, you didn’t expect her to do this.

“There’s no need for you to get so worked up, Y/N” she said kindly. “Yeah! there’s nothing wrong” Jimmy quickly chimed in with support, as he should. However, you were not pleased. “Yes, THERE IS…” you snapped, “It’s my business and Marcus is just a friend. Why even bring him up? He just dropped me off home once…So?” “He just seems quite nice-” “Aww come on…” Freddie began, “…leave Y/N alone now will ya?” He said, looking at everyone at the table, “She’s an adult…and she can make her own bloody decisions just like the rest of us” “Exactly!” You said in an instant, “Thank you, Freddie” You added, glad to have Freddie in your corner. Lena was highly offended.

“Y/N…” she began , “…as your mother, don’t I get a say in this?”

“NO YOU DON’T…” You yelled, standing up, “GOD!!” Groaning in frustration, you really had enough of it. Years of tormenting had set you off, and today you took your stand, by storming out of the dining room to everyone’s surprise. “Y/N, Wait!”

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Taking deep breaths and long strides across the garden, you tried to calm yourself down. You loved your family, you really did. But Family had failed to love you the way you expected it to. Finding romance was never easy for you. The struggle you face internally, it could never be compared to your sisters luck. So, a constant reminder of that struggle was not what you needed.

“Boo!” Freddie’s sudden voice made you turn to him with a jump. “Christ! Freddie” You breathed, clutching your chest as he looked amused. “Sorry, cupcake…” he said, “…you alright?” He asked with a softer tone. No matter how much he teased, he was your source of comfort. You sighed. “Not really…” you answered him in all honesty. Lighting a cigarette, Freddie looked in to the distance while you both observed the garden. “Parents…” He began, “They try so hard, yeah? But don’t know when to fucking shut up”

Chuckling, you nodded, “I suppose….Hehe thanks” you said shyly, when he offered you a smoke. His eyes never left you as you took a puff. The nicotine entered your system, calming you in the process, which surprised you. In your opinion, this time you felt like a professional compared to the previous attempt at the party.

“Hah!” Freddie sounded gleeful as you blew out the smoke “You’re getting used to it, cupcake”

Wearing a proud smile, you took a bow as he clapped. Warmth came over you once again, and suddenly all that humiliation and suffering from earlier felt non-existent.

“Oh! Shit!” You blurted, “…sorry” you added, pointing at the red lipstick mark that stained around his cigarette, as you gave it to him, which he barely even cared for.

“Ah! that’s alright” he said, casually taking it in his lips. Those lips, they were just as you remembered back them. You envied each cigarette that succeeded to kiss those lips daily. Come to think of it, with your lipstick stains marked on this one, your mind could not help but wonder if that was an indirect kiss shared between the two of you. Wait! Why would you even think that?

“Freddie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve ever done shotgun kisses?

Your morality raised it’s eyebrows with concern. What the bloody hell are you on about? Smiling mischievously, Freddie nodded, “Ohhh yeah” “How was it?” You asked, folding your arms. “The best…” he winked, whilst taking another puff.

Smiling to yourself, you looked over to the garden once again. The sheer thought of blowing smoke into another’s lips in the form of a kiss, it fascinated you. Excitement rushed in alongside it.

“Guess I should try it out myself sometime…” you said, with a chuckle “…maybe with a friend. Hah! Maybe even with Marcus-” “Why don’t we try it?” You froze. “What?” You inquired, slowly turning to face him, for you could not believe what you just heard. Looking back at you, Freddie appeared nonchalant, yet his eyes were dead serious. As if he was not joking around. Not about this.

And you swore, you felt your heart suddenly beat fast. Why the fuck would he say that?

“Ah! you two!!”

Both of you jumped the moment Jimmy’s voice appeared from nowhere. Standing by the door with his hands on his waist, Freddie’s cousin gave a warm smile, “ Come on now Y/N…everyone’s worried. Let’s go” he said gently, urging you with a tilted head.

You may have walked inside along with them in compliance. Silence may have been gifted to you in the dinning table as a peace offering. Yet, you were left feeling even more confused than ever before. All because of Freddie Jackson.

What was he doing to you?

——————————————————

Chapter 3 HERE

Tagged: @starlightmornings @rogerfxckingtaylor @daydreamerinadazedworld @courtney-thevixeniris

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