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princecharmingmendes · 3 years ago

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Heart by Heart | Chapter I | Raul Mendes

*secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Helloo, this is the first chapter of this series and I'm super excited about it. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. I plan on posting a chapter weekly, which means new chapter every Thursday (and maybe a sneak peak every monday). Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like it as much as I did. I'll stop rambling now, byee. Happy Reading!

masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 3.4K+;

*Warnings: cursing, descriptions of violence, blood, injuries, hostage situation and a whole lot of teasing. Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings.

*Posted: July 1st, 2021.

-*-

Raul Mendes was a pain in the ass. Y/N loves him way too much for her own good, but he was a pain in the nonetheless.

He was the only person she knew who could be in a possible life-or-death situation and still make fun of her through their communicators. And sure, that made the whole thing lighter and less scary, and sure, he was the best agent she’s ever met, but damn did he get on her nerves. And Raul always knew how to get her frustrated or squirming, he enjoyed it more than he was willing to admit. Sure, they’ve been friends for a long time and she should be used to him, but it never got easier. The fact he had a killer smile, the looks of a legit greek god and had this whole tough guy exterior, but secretly had a soft spot for her did not make her case any less complicated.

Y/N and Raul knew each other ever since they’re basically born. Their parents met when they worked together at a company of secret agents, it was only a small corporation back then, and they were known as the best agents at the time. After they retired from field missions and eventually desk jobs, they became only advisers and emergency contacts. But despite that, they kept their friendship going though all the years and that’s how Y/N was introduced to the triplets. They’re always together, doing everything with each other and protecting themselves. And of course she loved Peter and Shawn with her whole heart, they’re like family to her, but Raul was different. Y/N wished it wasn’t, but there are certain things in life you can’t exactly control. Like falling in love with your best friend.

And it’s not like she stood a chance, to be honest. Regardless of his looks, he treated her like she hung the moon and stars on the sky. Sure, he was a tough guy, who rode motorcycles and wore leather jackets, and wouldn’t admit alive that he cried while watching Lion King. But he took care of her when she was upset or having a bad period, he would take her driving around town at midnight on random occasions just because he knew it would make her feel better, and would always be so mindful of everything involving her. And yeah, he teased her endlessly, but it was part of it and in reality, Y/N didn’t mind it that much.

So when they started growing older and decided to follow their parents career, it only made sense they trained their asses off and got the job together. The company their parents worked for grew a lot, a team that was originally formed by 15 agents turned into a massive business, with over 100 employees, doing various functions. Shawn was picked for a more diplomatic field, always in meetings with important people and traveling around the world. Peter became a tech engineer, developing the coolest gadgets and weapons imaginable, something out of Totally Spies! Raul was clearly a field agent, an expert on body combat and weapons, best out of the four when it came to their physical test. And Y/N was the one who guided the operations, the hacker and responsible for strategies, also for the tech part and best sniper out of the three of them.

That made her and Raul an unbeatable team and the best duo ever. Their chemistry on the field was recognized by their bosses on the first week, basically glueing them together for every future mission and it worked. For the company. But it only dug her little crush deeper on Y/N’s heart. And obviously no one knew it. She was a spy for fucks sake, she knew how to lie and she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. Raul didn’t date, working on this field made everyone’s love life a bit harder than it was already, and he never seemed interested enough in anyone with the same career to have a long lasting relationship with. That didn’t mean there where a lot of people interested, which made Y/N’s heart twist in her chest.

“Sweetheart, you still with me?” Raul’s voice came through her earpiece bringing her back to reality.

“Of course I am, you idiot, I take this job really seriously” Y/N replied rolling her eyes as if she didn’t just daydreamed a bit.

“Oh sorry, doll, didn’t mean to insult you hard working” he chuckled “but could you please check in the corridor number 6, half the team is heading down there right now”

“Sure” she quickly typed on her computer changing cameras really quickly, perks of being Peter’s best friend is that she could usually take extra stuff and the newest gadgets on the market “It’s clear and, by the way, you look pathetic with this glasses”

Raul laughed clearly amused, throwing his middle finger up in the air in the direction of the security camera he found “Oh really? Tell that to Peter, he’s the one who created them”

“Technically their still a prototype, so make sure to let him know”

Raul scoffed playfully as he climbed another set of stairs, the man and woman with him following without questioning, used to his ways of leading “Of course, I’m sure he’ll like to hear your fashion critiques to his million dollar glasses”

“I’ll write it down, now careful, you’re approaching the level where they’re at”

“Sure, mom, I’m always careful” he said in a hushed tone signaling to his teammates to keep quiet and try to find the possible security team they left to watch the hostage.

“Shut up” Y/N said trying to hold back the smile from stretching her lips, already letting the airway team know to be ready to pick them up as they approached their target.

They’re currently in the middle of a mission where they needed to recover another agent who got caught up in an ambush two weeks ago, and now they’re being kept as a hostage. Raul’s leading a team to retrieve the agent as quickly and as silently as they could, two with him and three other on the opposite side to meet halfway. All that while Y/N’s on the under construction building across the street seated among her gear, gun in hand following their every step and guiding them through the camera system and the big windows that other building had. It’s not the worst mission they’ve ever been, no apparent violence or blood bath, just a simple rescue mission, but they still felt a little jittery and always worried about each other’s lives. And through the years, they noticed that their copying mechanism to make this less stressful (at least a tiny bit) was through light banter and jokes. That somehow brought a bit of normality to their very non ordinary job.

Y/N did her best to keep them hidden while they crashed into the building as quietly as possible, trying go unnoticeable since they didn’t have enough munition or people on the tactic team. It would also prevent them from moving the target around or opening fire. And despite the fact Raul kept on trying to joke around and that she’s been doing this for at least four years, the fact that they’re working with a less experienced and fresh out of the academy crew made her a little jittery. Not that she didn’t trust Raul to command everything and boss everyone around if things got messy, she just didn’t want him to get in the middle of a crossfire again.

He had the terrible habit of playing the hero in the most inconvenient times, like when they were little and a guy twice his size, with three friends mocked her pigtails. He didn’t stand a chance, but he went after them anyway. They ended up having to run as fast as they could so they wouldn’t end up with a black eye or something. And that was nothing compared to the stupid shit he could do on field. And Y/N couldn’t be more pissed whenever he came home with more bruises then he should just to play Superman or something. Sure, that was admirable and the fact that he put everyone on his team on his top priority was definitely something fantastic for a captain, but not for Y/N’s heart.

And for that reason, she was always extra careful, but when he had a newbie joining him on the field, Y/N tripled the attention to avoid putting the kid in danger, and, consequently her best friend.

Raul was quick to take down two man on their level without raising much alarm, grabbing their munition, dragging the unconscious bodies away from where they’d be easily seen and moving forward to another set of stairs. He was a very skillful agent, with great physical development and worked great under pressure, with quick thinking and a natural leader. So it didn’t shock her when he was able to do that as if it was the most natural thing in the planet. While Raul was more of a passionate person, Y/N was more rational, was analyzing every possibility and coming up with creative solution, she was also really cold on work (she just had one exception) and was a quick thinker, great person to rely on. It’s almost as if the complimented each other and that’s why it worked. That’s why when she tells him to shoot, he does without thinking, or to jump, he wouldn’t blink before doing it head first.

And that’s why they’re able to reach the hostage without much trouble.

“Told you to chill out, I knew we could make it” he murmured through their coms and she giggled, shaking her head incredulously.

“You should watch the entrances while your teammates take care of the hostage”

“That’s why I have you, sweetheart” he said with his infamous smirk stretching his annoyingly pink lips.

Y/N shook her head when she felt her face warming up a bit, stupid boy “Well, actually I’m pretty busy calling for our ride, so watch your own back this time, you’re a big boy, I’m sure you can do it”

Raul scoffed but did as she say either way “fine, are we clear?”

“On your floor yes, climb three more levels and meet me on this side of the street, don’t stall champ, they’re going to notice there’s something wrong with the cameras and their man who aren’t responding, so be quick”

Raul chuckled as he helped balance the hostage on Roman’s arms and signaling them to climb the stairs again “Yes, ma’am, anything to keep you from frowning and scolding my ass”

Y/N rolled her eyes smiling, sighing in relief that half of their mission was done and it went as smoothly as it could have been “Great, now get your ass out of there now, Raul”

The tactic team started moving to the floor they’d have access to jump, and everything was going too smoothly to be true, not even a minor inconvenience. And that was not normal, at all. That’s when Y/N started getting worried.

Everything was great until Seth, from loosing a lot of blood and being severely dehydrated, started loosing his conscious, making Roman’s job a lot more complicated and making everyone move slower. And while that was happening, Y/N saw when one of the guys saw his partners laying limply on the corner of a hallway and finally the pieces clicked. Luckily she was able to caught it quickly enough to be able to mess up their coms, so instead of a dozen men, they’d have to deal with two. She was also quick to let Raul know, so he jumped into action, telling everyone to rush and grabbing Seth’s right side, basically carrying him alongside Roman up the stairwell.

But as they’re almost reaching the door, Raul heard footsteps rather close, rushing Roman up the rest of the way, warning he’d be right behind him, that he was only to be a bit far back so he could hold whoever was coming.

He ran downstairs, quickly blocking the door to the staircase with a fire extinguisher, running all the way upstairs to reach his teammates and jump to go home. But as he had just reached the door, his colleagues waiting for him with their gear (and also his) ready to cross to the other building, he felt the barrel of a gun touching the back of his head. Raul raised his hands in surrender, his teammates staring at him with horror in their eyes as they aimed their guns to whoever was behind him, but he knew they couldn’t do much before he got shot. He also knew they’re too young, apart from Roman and Cara, who were both holding Seth up, they weren’t experienced enough to do something like that. But before the person could pull the trigger, they grunted in pain and Raul felt the barrel slipping away.

He turned around to watch the guy on his back in the floor, clutching to his left ribs, a little pool of blood already forming underneath him and gun long forgotten. Raul looked around to see if it was anyone from this guy’s side or anyone on the stairs, only to be met with silence and a single security camera with the green dot on, meaning Y/N was still in their system. He shook his head in disbelief, dragging the whining man outside of the room, quacking his gun down the stairs and managing to lock the door so they could escape safely.

“Still with me, baby?” Y/N’s voice teased mimicking the way he said it earlier.

Raul shook his head with a smirk on his lips, before moving to where his teammates stood still a bit shocked with all that happened in front of them “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you, sweetheart”

“Alright boys, the helicopters are coming for us, meet you all on the roof in three” Y/N said through the coms for the whole team, quickly shifting to a line only the captain, Raul, could hear “and if you dare be late just to make a big entrance or another dramatic scheme you can think about, I swear to God I’ll leave you behind”

“You wouldn’t dare”

“Try me” Y/N sing sang picking up her stuff and quickly shoving them down in her backpack, gathering the rest in her hands before turning around to climb to the rooftop.

As she climbed the last set of stairs, Y/N saw their helicopters approaching as the seven agents she was waiting for used a special gun to shoot a line to her building, before locking them in place before zip-lining their way to meet her. She helped Seth, the agent that was kept hostage climb up the little wall since he was in a pretty bad shape, throwing his arm across her shoulders and basically dragging him to where they thrown the stair to climb up to the helicopter with the medical team waiting for him. Cara and Roman climbed first since they’re going to report what they saw and assist Seth as best as they could. Roman grabbed him and the rope stair, shouting to pull them up so he could be taken care of.

Raul was the last one to arrive, as always staying behind to insure everyone got there safely and no one would try to kill them or anything. He graciously climbed the all as if it was nothing, pulling the gun from the string and cutting it so no one could follow them up there that quickly. Raul told everyone to climb onto the helicopter and they’re quick to follow his order, only one person stubbornly waiting for him, as always. He held back the relieved smile from stretching across his features, noticing how warm and relaxed he felt only by seeing Y/N standing besides the hope ladder. She looked worried, a frown on her beautiful face and Raul wanted to smooth his fingers over it as if it would ease all of her troubles away.

She nodded as soon as he was close enough, Raul being quick to pick up the heavy backpack she was carrying and leaving the rest to her “Are you okay?”

“What? Of course, Why do you ask?” he knew why she was asking, hell, his heartbeat was still a bit too fast to be normal, and yeah, partially was because he was standing in front of Y/N, but on the other hand he almost got killed. She only arched her brow at him and he sighed in defeat “Of course I am, doll, you know me, I’m always okay”

“That’s what’s scares me the most” she said with a sad chuckle and started climbing the rope ladder to the helicopter and Raul was quick to follow behind.

“Dude, that was insane, I can’t believe you didn’t miss or accidentally shot Raul from across the street!” the youngest guy from the mission shouted as soon as they reached them on the vehicle, Raul closing the door behind them.

Y/N only giggled in response “yeah, a bit crazy, isn’t it?”

“That’s because she’s the best, Tommy, but she won’t believe it” Raul said as he sat on one of the vacant seats, waiting for her to join him.

“Oh shut it” she said unable to stop the smile from forming.

They kept on talking about the mission for a while, Tommy and the other two kids who recently joined still high from the adrenaline, but Y/N couldn’t be more worn out and Raul was quick to catch it. He leaned closer to her and she automatically laid her head on his shoulder, a movement that was almost mechanic to both of them. He gently grabbed her hand that was placed on her knee and interlaced their fingers together, letting her play with his hand to pass the time.

Y/N sighed and mumbled after a while, when most of the kids were too distracted to pay attention “Are you really okay? Don’t say that you’re always fine, I mean it”

Raul had mastered the art of the poker face. He could easily be having the worst time of his life, but he would never let it showcase always with a quick sarcastic remark and an easy smirk on his lips, ready to flirt with anyone to distract them from the real problem. Raul was not the best when dealing with feelings and emotions, always thought it was easier to push them away, but Y/N saw right through him. She always did, ever since they were little. After that, he never tried to hide it again from her, always being as honest as he could with her about how he was, and obviously it didn’t always work, but she understood and respected it. It’s not like he needed to say anything for her to know.

But at the same time, she didn’t know that he would always be fine, as long as she was safe and right next to him, the rest didn’t matter.

“I promise you I’m fine, you saved my beautiful ass and we’re going home, I’d say we’re fantastic” he said after a while, pressing a long kiss to the back of their laced hands.

That seemed to be enough to convince Y/N, since she huffed through her nose and let out a tiny giggle, before leaning closer to him and Raul took it as a sign to drape his arm over her shoulder pulling her closer to his chest “your beautiful ass is really annoying, you know that, right?”

“Oh, I do, but you love it anyway” he said with a giggle, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, as she just showed him her middle finger, making him laugh even more.

Yeah, he was definitely fine. For now.

-*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

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heyitssmiller · 4 years ago

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Clandestine: Chapter Nine

Another cliffhanger? Me? Nah.

All characters belong to @lumosinlove

@donttouchmycarrots is the best and I love her so much. She also inspired a lot of this chapter’s angst, so it’s not all my fault this time! <3

CW: violence, blood/injuries, guns/gun violence

Clandestine Masterlist

Sirius woke up alone. This in and of itself wasn’t unusual, until he remembered the events of the night before. Wandering hands, soft, needy sighs, and warm lips that kissed him and kissed him and kissed him. He rolled onto his stomach and smothered himself with his pillow to hide the smile that took over his entire face, heart beating giddily in his chest. That happened.

Holy shit.

But that begged the question: where was he?

Sirius stayed in bed for a few moments, thinking that maybe Remus was coming back, but then he got too impatient and crawled out of bed to go searching. If he was camped out in front of that laptop again this early… but no. He was standing in front of the stove, prodding at the contents of a frying pan. The smell of coffee reached Sirius and he smiled again as he entered the kitchen, making sure his footsteps were loud enough for Remus to hear - that way it wasn’t a surprise when he came to stand behind Remus and wrapped his arms around his waist, hooking his chin on his shoulder to watch what was happening on the stove.

A general rule of dating a spy - don’t sneak up on them. It tends to end badly.

“Morning.” Sirius mumbled, turning his head to press a lingering kiss to a tendon in Remus’ neck and smiling against warm skin. Remus hummed, leaning back into Sirius’ chest and angling his neck to give him better access. That simple, innocuous motion stole Sirius’ breath. Remus didn’t trust easily - Sirius could understand why, given everything he’d been through. But there he was, relaxed against Sirius, eyes closed, completely trusting. Sirius wasn’t exactly sure what to do with something so precious, but damn he really didn’t want to screw this up. So he continued to place kiss after kiss to Remus’s skin, finding a ticklish spot right below his ear that made him laugh and squirm in Sirius’ arms before he shoved him away, a wide, happy smile on his face.

Had Sirius ever been this happy before? He doubted it.

“So what’s for breakfast, chef?” He asked, peering at the frying pan. Remus turned the stove off and grabbed plates from the cabinet by the fridge while Sirius grabbed silverware and napkins. It was incredibly domestic. Sirius couldn’t get enough of it.

“Scrambled eggs, toast, and coffee. Nothing gourmet, but it’s the best I can do.” He answered as he scooped eggs out of the frying pan and grabbed toast from the toaster, then handed the plate to Sirius. They took their plates to the tiny kitchen table, along with the coffee and creamer and jams before sitting down to eat.

It was… nice. Their relationship had changed a lot the night before, but it was easy - a seamless transition from friends to more. He’d always assumed there would be some awkwardness with a big change like that, but it felt normal. Remus still teased him for how he took his coffee, Sirius still kicked him for it. They went over their plans for the day and what they wanted to get done. The ease of it all made Sirius wonder just how long they’d been teetering over that precipice.

It also made him feel guilty, how happy he was when his brother was still trapped with the Snakes and Finn still missing. Remus seemed to recognize his shift in emotion and smiled sadly, reaching across the table to tangle their hands together.

“We’re going to figure something out.” He said quietly before taking a sip of coffee, not once letting go of Sirius’ hand but playing with his fingers absentmindedly. It made it a bit tricky to eat, but Sirius couldn’t say he minded one bit.

He hoped Remus was right.

***

“Update?” Talker asked as soon as Remus and Sirius entered the office, looking tired. He kept pace with them as they walked, eager for a response. He and Finn were pretty close, constantly cracking jokes and trading jabs and playing pranks. But then again, Finn was a very outgoing guy - he was pretty close with a lot of people.

Sure enough, as they rounded the corner they found a gathering of people outside Remus’ office, all friends. All worried.

And a stranger standing next to Kasey, watching them as they approached. Red hair, brown eyes, faint freckles.

Remus didn’t have to ask who he was.

He stuck his hand out for the agent to shake. “O’Hara.”

Alex shook his hand briefly, soulful eyes a myriad of warring emotions. “Please tell me what the hell is going on.”

Remus looked at him, then the rest of the people around his office. They all needed to know what was going on, but he felt like Alex deserved the chance to hear this on his own, without the prying eyes of a bunch of strangers.

Sirius seemed to know exactly what he needed. It was like a sixth sense. “Lions, to the conference room! I’ll tell you what we know.” He gave Remus a warm smile, one that he was helpless to return. Last night was… blinding, as strange as it sounded. Sirius was all he could see now - the bright, expressive eyes, full, addictive lips, and wow he needed to get off this train of thought quickly. He had important things to do today.

Sirius seemed to know exactly what was on his mind. His smile turned secretive and sly before he shot Remus a wink and led the way to the conference room, leaving only Alex. Remus looked at him, then jerked his head towards his office. Alex followed after him and instantly sat down in one of the extra chairs, eyes never leaving Remus. He looked tired, worried, desperate for answers.

Remus sighed, an ache in his chest. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him, dealing with his younger brother being kidnapped. If it was Jules, Remus would lose his mind. “Let’s just start at the beginning, ok?” And so he did. He went over the general premise of the mission, what they’d done so far, and what went wrong. Alex listened quietly, taking it in.

When they were finally caught up Alex leaned back in his chair, raking a hand through his hair - a motion that was so Finn that Remus had to hold his breath for a second before releasing it. “So do we have any leads? What’s the plan?”

“We’ve got three possible locations. We’re going to try to narrow it down and then send in the two operatives we’ve already got in Slytherin.”

“Finn’s partners.”

There was something about the way Alex said that. The wrinkle in his brow, eyes hard and unflinching. Unforgiving. Remus gave him a look, keeping his voice neutral. “It was a freak accident, O’Hara. Not their fault.”

He wasn’t brave enough to tell the agent how much of that fault rested on his own shoulders. He was basically in charge of this mission. He’d been the one in charge of planning, giving them the go-ahead, looking out for signs of danger. There were signs of the op going bad - he could see that now, in hindsight. But hindsight was always 20/20, wasn’t it?

And now he was sitting here, explaining to the brother of the agent he let get kidnapped that they didn’t really have a solid plan. They were still scattered and struggling to recollect themselves after that disaster of a mission. What exactly was he supposed to say?

Alex ignored his earlier attempt at placation. “You’re telling me that your plan is to send one agent and a rookie safe-cracker into Snakes headquarters and break my brother out? That’s all you’ve got?”

“The rest of us are already on their radar. If we sent in other agents-”

“Bullshit.” Alex growled, leaning forward dangerously. And really, Remus couldn’t fault him for any of this. Their bond ran deep, apparently. “You’re taking down the Snakes anyways, what’s wrong with pushing up the timeline a little? We don’t need to be covert anymore, we need to be dominant and aggressive.”

“That makes your brother collateral damage,” Remus reasoned. “We go in guns-blazing, the first thing they’ll do is make it a hostage situation.”

Alex sighed, his shoulders slumping and all the fight leaving him in a split-second, frustration rolling off him in waves. “Fuck.”

“We’ve got an ex-Snake on the team and a guy on the inside. Potentially,” he felt like he had to add, because he still wasn’t sure what to think of the younger Black brother. Sirius trusted him, sure, but was that enough?

One wrong move and they could lose three agents. This required precision and cunning, not hot-headed recklessness.

“We’re going to do our best to get him out of there.” Remus finally finished, trying to instill confidence with just the words. Alex just smiled sadly.

“Good media answer, right there.”

Remus’ phone buzzed twice in his pocket, signaling an incoming message. He fumbled with it for a second, then looked down at the screen. “Well, I might have a better answer in a few minutes. One of his partners says they’ve got news.”

Remus just hoped it was finally some good news.

***

Logan was still pacing - back and forth, back and forth. It wasn’t a stressed pace this time, exactly. His stride was longer, full of pent-up energy and restlessness. Leo was switching between watching him and reading the messages Regulus sent the night before to Loops and Sirius, who were both listening intently.

“So let me get this straight.” Remus said through the computer speakers. “Regulus said he’d turn off one of the cameras that overlooks a side door, sneak you two in, and then help you get both him and Finn out?” He and Sirius were sitting close together at the conference table, sneaking glances at each other when they thought no one was looking.

Leo smiled knowingly. Good for them.

“Yeah.” Logan said as he continued to pace. “Get in, get them, get out. Simple.”

“Well,” Leo said, stretching out the word and watching Logan’s eyes snap to him. Yeah, he wasn’t going to like this. “According to Reg, one of Riddle’s flash drives is there too - in a safe in his office. Logan can get Finn, and I can-”

“No.”

“Logan,” Leo sighed, giving him a look. “After we get Finn out, they’ll put that place on lockdown. We won’t get another shot at getting this drive and you know it. Plus Riddle’s not even there right now. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

“When did he even tell you that?” Logan asked, staring at him incredulously. “I don’t remember this at all.”

“That would be because I’ve been texting him this morning because I knew you’d react like this.” Leo rushed to finish his sentence and be heard over Logan’s loud dissent.

“React how? Logically?”

“Over-protectively.” Leo corrected, watching the aggravation return to his pacing again as he grumbled something under his breath. “If we get this drive, that only leaves the ones Lestrange and Riddle have on them. Reg said he could probably grab the one Bellatrix has - he can replace it with the fake I slipped into his pocket at the gala-”

“Nut, you can’t be serious.”

Leo glared at him. “It’s a perfectly solid plan.”

“And it’s dangerous!”

“Are you forgetting what our jobs are?” Leo asked with an incredulous laugh. “Everything we do is dangerous.”

“Leo.”

The blond looked to the laptop, where Sirius and Loops were looking back at him. “Back me up here.”

Remus glanced over at Sirius, then back to Leo. “It’s risky, but if you feel like you can do it-”

“I can.” Leo said, no room for argument. The kid who was nervously drumming his fingers against his thigh and staring off into space before his first mission was long gone, replaced by a calm, confident agent - who still drummed his fingers on a regular basis, but who was self-assured and comfortable with his role. Logan wasn’t exactly sure when that had happened, but he was proud nonetheless - even if he was still terrified.

“When’s Reg going for Lestrange’s drive?” Sirius asked, in a similar state as Logan. Worried, but knowing he was fighting a losing battle. This was happening whether they liked it or not.

“She puts it in the same spot every night before she goes to bed, so he’ll grab it right before we get there when she’s already asleep. If we go really early in the morning - like really early - everyone should be asleep, save for a few.”

“They’re cocky like that,” Sirius added, “No one’s ever been dumb enough to try to break in, so they won’t be as prepared for it.”

Leo frowned, not sure whether to take offense or not. “Thanks?”

“So how long do you think getting into the safe will take?” Remus asked, keeping all of them on track, as usual. The steadiness and predictability calmed Logan down, just a little.

Leo shrugged. “Don’t know, depends on what kind of safe it is. Reg doesn’t know.”

“So you’re going in blind.” Logan finished, anxiety churning in his gut. That calmness had lasted all of three seconds. He didn’t like this. There was so much that could go wrong; it was risky enough sneaking in to get Finn out of there, but adding this on top of it? What if one of them got caught? What if all of them got caught? What if Regulus wasn’t as trustworthy as Sirius claimed? What if they were just walking into another trap?

What if, what if, what if. There were too many variables to this, too much at risk.

He’d never really hated his job before. In the past he’d loved the suspense, the intrigue, the unpredictability. He’d grown up wanting a career that had action and adventure, just like the movies he and his sisters used to watch. Now all the things he used to love were the things that were stressing him out the most. But then, he’d never had partners before - definitely not partners he was halfway in love with.

He was starting to hate this job now.

Leo’s voice brought him back to the conversation. “Not really. It’s either going to be a digital safe or manual. I’d crack a digital safe the same way I cracked the ones at the banks, and manual safes are kind of like giant locks. I just feel for the sticking points and do the math.”

“There’s math?” Sirius asked, looking disgusted. Logan thought back to Finn saying the exact same words, all three of them squished together on the bed with a nature documentary playing in the background, warm and content and relaxed. No stress, no sense of impending disaster, no one missing.

He wanted that again, more than anything.

He felt like this wasn’t the way to do it, though. Which was ironic, seeing that he was the one who usually wanted to be reckless. That was his M.O. - the rough, hotheaded agent who wasn’t afraid to take some risks. He completely changed his tune when those risks endangered his partners.

He couldn’t lose them - either of them. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if...

But arguing against this rescue mission was like leading a horse to water - pointless. The only thing left to do was to prepare. So Logan tuned the conversation out and started planning for every possible outcome he could think of. He wasn’t going to be left just reacting, not this time. He was going into this with every last detail mapped out, every potential misstep accounted for, every contingency plan organized in his head.

He wasn’t going to let anything go wrong. He couldn’t.

***

The alarm Leo and Logan had set was essentially useless, seeing that it found the two of them already awake, going over the plan in their heads. Logan stretched his arm out to shut it off, then rolled over to look at Leo. Blue eyes were already staring back, alight with optimism- a stark contrast to how Logan was feeling. He just hoped tonight wasn’t the night he would be disappointed.

“We’re going to get him back.” The blond said, no sleepiness to his voice as he softly leaned in to kiss Logan sweetly, then more enthusiastically. Logan let himself get lost in it for a while, a heart-wrenching distraction, accepting kiss after excited kiss with a sigh against soft lips. He took the lead a second later, pushing Leo back into the mattress and pressing their chests together, getting as close as he could manage and relaxing into the warmth.

“And then we’ll all be together again.” He added after a while, trying to reassure both Leo and himself as he kissed a dimple and earned a smile, bright in the early-morning darkness. “And we can finally have that talk.”

Leo hummed happily and pulled him down for one last lingering kiss before shimmying his way out from under Logan and getting to his feet, hair an absolute mess from a night of tossing and turning and Logan’s hands. Logan felt strangely proud of himself for that.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.” Leo chanted, dashing to his suitcase to grab clothes. His enthusiasm visibly shown in every action - brushing his teeth, pulling on his shoes, grabbing his tools. Logan soon found himself dressed and ready to go, turning his earpiece on and testing his mic. His gun was loaded and ready, a comforting weight at his hip. Leo’s voice echoed in his ear as he tested his mic, loud and clear. His tools were all packed up and smuggled away in his pockets, determination written across his face.

They were going to get him back.

Logan pulled up the directions to the address Regulus had sent them and they hurried to their car, blasting the heat as high as it would go to try and defrost the windows. The clock read 4:13 am as they pulled out of the hotel parking lot and headed down the street.

The drive was tense with anticipation and nerves and adrenaline. Leo’s leg never stopped bouncing from the passenger’s seat as he stared out the window, clearly lost in thought because it was still pitch black outside - he definitely wasn’t looking at anything. Logan kept his eyes on the road ahead and his thoughts on their mission, going over the details one last time as the navigation app instructed him to turn right.

The building they were infiltrating was on the very outskirts of Slytherin, somewhat secluded and run-of-the-mill. If Logan wasn’t sure this was the right place, he would never have guessed this to be a Snakes’ building. Which was probably exactly what they were going for.

Logan drove straight past the building, continuing down the road for a while until he figured they wouldn’t raise suspicion. He put the car in park, switched the headlights off, then turned to face his partner.

“You ready?”

The resulting grin was luminous. “You know it.”

Logan nodded, nerves gnawing away at his stomach, and got out of the car. He and Leo snuck around to the southeast side of the building where they found a door, the light above it flickering occasionally. Leo sent Logan a look, then rapped on the door with his knuckles twice.

A few seconds passed by, then the door opened silently. Regulus Black stared back at them, face as impassive as always. The two agents stepped inside without another word, watching as Regulus closed the door behind them and locked it before turning to face them again.

“I’ve got Bellatrix’s drive,” he said, so quietly that Leo and Logan had to lean in a little to hear him. “Snagged it about twenty minutes ago and replaced it with the fake. She’ll never know the difference.”

“Perfect.” Leo grabbed Logan’s forearm, eyes bright and intense. “You go get Finn, I’ll grab the drive. Meet you back at the rendezvous.”

Logan still didn’t like the idea. He didn’t like the thought of being separated. “Leo-”

“No one’s out this early, it’ll be the easiest grab of my life. I’ll be careful - I’ll be so careful, Tremz. You gotta trust me.” He pressed their foreheads together briefly and Logan allowed himself that one moment to close his eyes and press back, inhaling deeply. He still smelled like the hotel’s shampoo, clean and citrusy. After all this, Logan didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget the smell - or the memories that came with it. He couldn’t quite figure out if that was a bad thing or not. Because on the one hand, there was stress and kidnappings and hurt. But on the other hand, there was exciting, brand new kisses and falling asleep in his arms and the comfort of just being with him.

“Make it quick, ok?” he said finally, reluctantly leaning away and meeting blue eyes. Leo nodded, giving his hand a squeeze, and turned to set off down the hallway. Logan only allowed himself half a second to look after him - if he watched any longer, he just knew he’d start chasing after him, blindly following an angel and not caring where he was going. He’d probably follow him anywhere, if he could. He faced Regulus again instead, who was looking decidedly awkward. Logan just raised an eyebrow at him and motioned for him to lead the way.

His heart hammered louder and louder the more they walked, excitement and worry and adrenaline snowballing together and making his head spin. He could hear Leo’s quiet breathing through the coms, measured and steady and constant like the tide pushing and pulling against the shore. That, more than anything he tried to tell himself, calmed him down.

They reached a nondescript door and stopped in front of it. Logan glanced at Regulus, then back at the door. This was it. Finn was on the other side of that door. He was a paradoxical combination of excited and terrified of what he’d find on the other side of that door.

“I’m just going to wait out here,” Regulus said, moving so that his back was against the wall. “I’ve already witnessed you all soft and mushy tonight - I don’t think I can handle seeing it again. I’ll keep an eye out from here.”

Logan sent him a grin, incredibly pleased with himself and completely unashamed.

He took one last, deep breath and opened the door.

The sound of the door must have woken Finn, because the first thing Logan saw was the shifting of shoulder and back muscles as the redhead sat up with an annoyed grumble. “What the fuck is so important that you feel the need to wake me up this early?” He demanded, reaching up to further tousle his hair as he swiveled around to face the door. Their eyes locked and Finn froze, staring at him with his mouth agape and wide, wide brown eyes, one of which was blackened and swollen. There was blood at the corner of his mouth, dark and distracting. Logan’s breath left him in a rush, like he’d been the one punched in the face.

“Lo,” Finn whispered, that one syllable barely loud enough to reach Logan’s ears. He sat up straighter in an instant and continued to stare, as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. “Logan?”

That was all it took to spur Logan into action. He crossed the room in five quick paces and then he was on his knees in front of Finn, reaching for him hesitantly. Finn practically launched himself at him, arms around his neck and holding tight - almost bruisingly. Logan didn’t care. He’d gladly take the bruises if it meant having his partner in his arms again. It hadn’t even been that long since Logan had seen him, but it felt like an entire lifetime. He hugged Finn closer, probably holding him too tight, before leaning back and looking him over. Frantic hands passed over skin and clothing, feeling for injuries.

“You ok?” He asked, reaching up to tilt Finn’s face so that he could examine the black eye and split lip. Calloused fingers traced gingerly over constellations of freckles, marred by purples and greens and yellows. “God, Finn-”

Finn laughed a little, reaching up to still Logan’s hand and pressing it to his stubbled cheek instead. Logan could feel his smile against his palm and melted. “I’m ok. It looks worse than it actually is, I’m sure.”

You’re still gorgeous, Logan thought as he swiped a thumb across his cheek. He wanted to drown in the sight in front of him. Finn wasn’t great but he was ok and considering the circumstances, that was all Logan could really ask for. He was still livid, of course. And the ones who’d hurt Finn would get what was coming for them. That much he could guarantee.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Finn murmured, still leaning into Logan’s touch. Logan just shook his head firmly, eyes serious. How did Finn expect him to leave him behind? He clearly had no idea just how little they could function without him, the gaping hole he’d left in his absence.

Finn looked over Logan’s shoulder, then back to Logan with worried eyes. “Leo?” He asked and let Logan help him to his feet, favoring his left leg. Logan tightened his grip on his biceps and steadied him before answering.

“Currently? In Riddle’s office cracking a safe.”

Leo’s voice, calm and even, came through the coms. “Tell Finn I said hey.” Logan grinned.

“He says hey.”

Finn looked offended. He leaned closer to the mic Logan was wearing at the collar of his shirt, making the brunet still. The expression on his face - a comical combination of panic and turned-on - made Finn smile as he spoke. “You’re breaking me out of here after I was kidnapped and the only thing you can think of to say is hey?”

“Well, I was planning on saving the sentimental shit for when I actually see you.” Leo said distractedly from his spot on the floor in front of a truly ancient safe, rotating the dial slowly and feeling for the last remaining sticking point. “It’s good to hear your voice, though.”

He heard Logan relay the message to Finn, and then Finn’s resulting coo. Leo laughed under his breath at the sound right as the safe opened with a loud click, opening to reveal nothing inside but a blue and gray flash drive.

“I can’t believe this is the only thing he keeps in a safe like this.” Leo grumbled, reaching forward to make the switch-

Right as the office door opened.

Leo whirled around, slipping the real flash drive into his pocket as he faced whoever had walked in on him.

Unnatural yellow eyes stared back.

And a gun was pointed at his chest.

He could tell Riddle recognized him from the party by the curl of his lips that formed the beginnings of a smile. Cold dread washed over Leo at the bizarre sight. He wasn’t sure anyone had seen the leader of the Snakes smile before. If they did, they hadn’t lived to tell the tale. Leo’s heart raced as all he could do was stand there and stare. His gun sat heavily at his hip, but he knew reaching for it would only speed up the inevitable. He stayed still.

Leo’s partners were still talking over the coms, happy and ignorant of the situation going on right down the hall from them. As Leo stared down the barrel of a gun, he thought maybe it was for the best. Riddle wouldn’t react well to breaking Finn out of here, he knew that much. At least this would be a good distraction - if Riddle was focused on him, he wouldn’t be focused on his partners. Maybe they’d be able to get out of here before Riddle even realized the real reason Leo was in the building.

He’d rather die than give either of them up. He was a little scared at the honesty behind that statement… and the likelihood of it happening much sooner than he’d hoped.

Riddle adjusted his sights without saying a single word, finger against the trigger. Leo sucked in a harsh breath and braced himself.

Bang.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #coops #sirius black #remus lupin #o’knutzy #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #clandestine #cw: injuries #cw: blood #cw: gun violence

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schiste-argileux · 4 years ago

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Idw Prowl is an evil SOB (took him two years to send the Wreckers to Garrus-9 and help Maxy (who was protecting all the war crimes the Bots did), put Maxy’s torturer and a war criminal on board the Lost Light cuz why not, sent Pharma to Delphi knowing it was DJD territory)

Prowl... Prowl’s creation and competence in his area of work is astounding. He is brilliant, creative, and defiantly apathetic of this world. But, he is very human in his own way. IDW Prowl is selfish, yet not. He is a unique in that aspect because most people make decisions like his for the sole reason of benefiting themselves. But Prowl’s sole reason of existing is to create PEACE.

Peace. Peace can only be done when people are complacent, happy, and satisfied. When things are stationary. Stable.

But life is never stable. Elements desire to form bonds, yet are almost always leaning towards to instability... Prowl’s form of PEACE is a world where there is no fighting. But everything sentient requires to fulfill its desires. As long as there is desire, people will fight.

A world of PEACE would be a world of full control, there are no surprises, no change. Safety, routines, and constants. No creativity, no development... nothing. stagnant.

But I must admire Prowl’s tenacity and dedication to this world!

He sacrifices everything for the sake of the directive, preserve cybertron, PEACE. He sacrifices his morals (Robot Gets Bullied By a Human), his dignity (Recent News, Cop Accepts Orgy For The Means of Establishing Peace, his body (Recent News, Cop gets Molested by A Spider for The Autobot Cause), and of course, thousands of lives (Not Recent News). :D Prowl respects and understands that there will always be chaos and instability, and he is so very flexible around it all! He literally can maximize everything and anything he has. He is the embodiment of consequentialism with a lil dash of politics. I wish my group project members were 1% as productive as him! Prowl tries to put everything black and white, and he gets upset when things get far more tricky, and wants to get everything in control so people can stay safe and remain in peace and not fight! And that’s a respectable goal! Control can be good, it means one understands and is able to retain themselves and the thing they are controlling. But Prowl doesn’t want to accept that there are things out of his control. And Prowl likes to think he’s justified when he controls the uncontrollable.

I mean, yeah, if he didn’t do what he did, the autobots would have been six feet under A LOT EARLIER. Optimus is not a good leader, preserving organic life over his own soldiers? Psh. Look at Spike, he’s got valid points and can I understand why he left the ‘bots. Prowl’s probably thinking everyday, DAMN, OP, WHY R U SO DUMB. LISTEN WE NEED TO FEED OUR SOLDIERS AND PRIORITIZE OUR SPECIES LIVES INSTEAD OF THIS FUCKING CARBON BASED CIRCLE. HELLO??? And literally Prowl could have been like I’m gonna get ya assassinated so I CAN HAVE IT MY WAY. But Prowl was BORN for the RULES. To follow, to MAKE PEACE. Killing the prime figurehead is against that, even if it would make his life way easier! (hence, not that selfish and also sad that your life is the rules. That’s a short leash, but he makes due)

Honestly I feel bad for Prowl. Must suck to be so big brain that everyone hates you when you say the truths (but also you could learn some more tricks from Jazz to be nicer and hide the truth, but that’s scary because a nicer prowl means more people he can trick and use. Thanks Prowl for being so straightforward! Now people can avoid you easier). He's so straightforward about things that need to be done, he’s in constant denial about the grey area of life!

That’s why when Spike slapped Prowl with reality slaps, Prowl lost some of his shit. Remember, nearly everyone had the edgy depressed time in their teens or young adult years where you realize the world is truly unfair and nothing is black and white? Yeah. Slap that on a 6+ million year old robot with a battle computer and is capable of big brain CPU-age, and was literally built for the sole purpose of enforcing rules and making peace? And no one really cared about Prowl enough to understand him and his background. So Prowl goes through his angst moment alone with his huge titties, frustrated. THIS. IS. WHY. YOU. COMMUNICATE. YA DINGUS.

Prowl doesn’t become a school shooter like Pharma cuz hes got bigger brain and a lot more power and control over himself, but he literally becomes Shadow The Hedgehog (Even if the world’s against me I’ll fight like I’ve always have). HE’S GONE ROGUE. MA’AM, SIR, THE FUCKING OREO COOKIE HAS TRANSFORMED AND ROLLED OUT. like. OP was the one thing holding prowl back, which was good! But now prowl’s on the roll and bumblebee is too nice and passive to hold him back. + the bombshell brainwash? feels so bad. being prowl sucks. because Prowl is a necessary evil.

At least he’s wonderfully blunt about his goal to create a peaceful cybertron, which makes it easier if you want to avoid him or smth. meanwhile you have fake people IRL that smile their way through and then slit your throat and you won’t even know it was them (hey jazz, no offense, but that’s what spec ops does). Fakers are the scariest enemy, but Prowl is still a threat, just not as big as a someone who fluffs you up on a balloon and then pops it. Prowl would just be like, hey, you’re really useful, come over here in my white van i wanna show you something and then maybe you get destroyed. But hey! You were the one with the highest chance of surviving compared to other people! Isn’t that great? You’re so skilled WOW. (Prowl gets punched. Again!) Prowl represents the necessary evil in society. We WILL ALWAYS HAVE EVIL people in this world. But Prowl is a far better evil than people who do evil for their own selfish reasons. It’s like how we have law enforcers and politicians . It’s basically giving them legal rights to do illegal things (lmao). BUT we need them regardless. We need those people to get their hands dirty, possibly killed, so that people can live in innocence and peace.

I don’t think Prowl ever realized that he was a necessary evil, and when Spike showed him that, he was bitter. But he accepted it. Which I respect because most people can’t be bothered to understand themselves and just throw themselves in denial, and point fingers for their flaws. Prowl sucks up and understands who he is, and he makes the best of it to achieve his goal. I mean, honestly? Prowl is probably a miracle worker. Not in a Ratchet sense. But look at the way modern governments run, nothing gets done, everything is stalled because no one has the guts to make sacrifices. Prowl would have gotten a shit ton of things done, man, and take quick efficient action. Even if he sacrifices many things for it. (Warning. I do not condone any taking of lives, NO ONE has the right to judge whenever a person should live or die.) Prowl reminds me of 秦始皇 (Qin Shi Huang), the king who unified China and sacrificed millions to make the Great Wall, canals, and road systems that last to this day. If it wasn’t for these accomplishments, China wouldn’t have been what it is today. Was it a good thing? For the future residents of China? Hell yeah. But the costs? Those are sins that can never be erased, and they are horrible and shouldn't be done ever again. Was it necessary? Perhaps. But that’s another discussion. Is Prowl evil? Depends on your definition of evil. Perhaps he’s justified, perhaps in his world, he’ll go down as the Qin Shi Huang of the Cybertronians. Regardless, Prowl like Pharma, is an EXCELLENT example to study on public ethics, and administrative officials should analyze him and learn from his mistakes and sins. I think Prowl is not evil in a sense that he wishes to harm others, but evil in a sense of his apathy. Prowl is a necessary component to a functional society (someone to plot, to use people, to enforce rules even if some are sacrificed, someone who can get their hands dirty). He lives a terrible and sad fate, and I do not wish ANYONE to live a life like Prowl’s or look up to Prowl. Yes, he’s so clever and brilliant, but that kind of power will make you the loneliest person on Earth.

Thanks Prowl for taking the entire load of sin on your shoulders! Big MVP! You get nothing from the world except hate and contempt. I would go on about him more but I have IRL stuff to do. I love Prowl as an example to tell people that MODERATION. COMMUNICATION. AND COMPASSION are important factors to have a healthy and good mental state. Prowl is the perfect example of someone who doesn’t want to empathize (haha so many people are like this today), who doesn’t want to try to use more braincells and friends help to make better plans that are more moderate and not extreme, and who doesn’t want to talk to anyone thinking its a waste of time or have difficulty explaining things. BUT I LOVE G1 PROWL because he has far more patience and manners, and doesn’t take a darker, route for his goals. awhohdohd he’s baby,,, i wish all cops had patience and manners and in general open-minded yet cautious enough not to be taken advantage of,,,, perhaps then we wouldn’t have so much polarization and fighting with authority in this world....

uwuwwuwuwuw they did prowl so dirty in idw WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ;____; Again, you are welcome to disagree or agree! I wrote this really quickly so I’m sure there will be points that could be clarified or edited. Prowl’s really complicated and I do not like to talk about current IRL problems, but Prowl represents a lot of problems in society. And I think it’s critical if we try to look at both perspectives to get an understanding on WHY people do these things, and is there a solution to AVOID making those same mistakes? There’s a couple of controversial things in this short essay I wrote, esp. about cops IRL. So feel free to have at it! Or ignore it! Whichever is more comfortable for you! Thanks for coming to my ted talk! Again, Prowl is a bad influence and a sorrowful life to live. please do not try to be like prowl. xD I won’t intrude on you if you do, because you have a right to live the life you want as long as you’re not hurting other people’s interests and wellbeing!

#prowl #transformers #idw #asks #omfg #prowl is so horrible to write about #ugh #oof #idw prowl is the bane of my existence #i love g1 prowl

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bigdanteague3 · 3 years ago

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Lucy - Part 2

Things progressed. Not quickly. But again, I thought there was a less than 1% chance of something happening. It didn’t seem possible. As days and weeks passed we spoke more often and longer. We clicked and I felt like there was something there. Some invisible thing but it was getting deeper and I was more certain it wasn’t completely imaginary. And not all one sided. She seemed into me as more than just an acquaintance. She was still hard to figure out....didn’t seem to go out socially. No boys dropping by that I could see. How was she apparently single and not have guys knocking down the door? Anyway, as we talked she slowly let her guard down piece by piece. Shared a little more personal info, things she liked, didn’t like. I didn’t hide the fact I had a girlfriend but was also clear and honest...that I was stuck in a miserable situation and looking for a way out and there were no feelings there anymore. That Emma was paranoid and extremely jealous and it was ending soon. I asked about her dating life...where’s your boyfriend?...she just kinda shrugged. She wasn’t dating. Hadn’t had great experiences dating. Said she wasn’t really looking to date. I still got the feeling she was insecure and needed a compliment...so I started thinking about a way to tell her I thought she was beautiful and not come off creepy or weird. That first compliment is tricky.

I had stopped fucking Emma in my room. Those walls were too thin and once she was on her knees and spread those cheeks for me and I was fucking her deep from behind....I didn’t want Lucy hearing hearing her cumming. So I would make sure we only did it in her room. It wasn’t that hard...we were down to once a week or less and I never slept over.

We started IMing each other. It was easier to talk that way. It wasn’t much at first...just hey. I didn’t talk about Emma at all....buzzkill and I can only assume Lucy Llama didn’t want to hear it. One night we were messaging and Lucy mentioned how pretty Emma was but that she had a mean face. Had seen her outside and I guess the bitchiness just oozed off her. I thought this was my opportunity to say something. I hadn’t found a chance, either in person or on a computer from one wall away to actually flirt. But I took a deep breath and said that part of that was true. Mean for sure...But she wasn’t actually THAT pretty. “Oh she is pretty” If you want to talk about pretty girls....she’s not as pretty as you. “silence” I’m serious...I remember the first time you smiled at orientation. “silence” I couldn’t take my eyes off you “silence” You’re beautiful “shut up” I’m serious. Your smile, your eyes, your dimples. “you’re just saying that” Well, I am saying it but I’ve thought it since the first time I saw you and wanted to tell you ever since. so I’m saying it now “silence” You don’t have to say anything...I just felt like you should know that I think you’re incredible “I’m not sure what to say. I don’t think anybody has ever told me that” They’re stupid “Do you really think that?” absolutely “Guys usually just say stuff like that but don’t mean it. They just want something” I don’t want anything. Except for you to know that you’re extremely pretty. I promise...this is not a setup or a line. Just something that needed to be said and I couldn’t figure out how to say it.

She told me later how flustered she was right here. I told her I was too. That it took me a month to say it. I could tell that night that I should just tell her I needed to get to sleep and leave it at the compliment. End on a high note. So I did. I saw her outside the next afternoon after classes and just said “I meant it”. Didn’t try to get close or anything. We talked again that night. She told me more about past boyfriends, experiences, growing up. There wasn’t a whole lot of romance....she never felt comfortable in parties or clubs, liked to read and watch movies....she had been with a few guys but it wasn’t what she had hoped for. Or wanted. My heart was thumping. It was a lot easier to say this shit over a computer. I asked her if Emma wasn’t in the picture anymore if she would go out with me “silence” That I wouldn’t be after anything...I just want to take her out somewhere “Meet me in the back”. I scramble up, put some clothes on, put some gum in and go out the backdoor. There was a shared back deck and she was already out there. It was early October, after midnight and chilly. She had on a sweatshirt and flannel pants. I walked over to her and she told me I better not be lying to her. I crossed my heart and swore I wasn’t.

She came up to my chest. We were inches apart. I wasn’t going to make the first move. She put both hands on my face and pulled me down to her. She gave me the slowest, softest, wettest kiss. Her tongue inside my mouth. Brushing my tongue. I very softly, very slowly put my hands on her waist. After a while, I lifted her up and sat her on the rail. She was tiny and easy to lift. Wrapped my arms around her back to keep her in place and not fall off. We had probably kissed for 10 minutes....now we were eye level and I pushed her hair back and told her how amazing the kiss was. We kissed like that, on the rail, forever. Maybe 30 more minutes. Maybe more. Her hands on my face, sometimes wrapped around my neck. My hands on her hips, sometimes wrapped around her waist. It never got wild or furious. Just really slow and really wet. Her soft lips, my lips. Honestly, the slowness and deliberateness of it was amazing. It was like she was making sure not to rush and just enjoy that contact. It not only felt physically nice on my end...but also that feeling of definitely being wanted. So deeply personal. So deeply intimate. Eventually, we broke the kiss and were still face to face. Lips touching. She told me she had never been kissed like that before. I told her we should do it again anytime she wanted. We kissed again...not as long...and I told her goodnight.

I wasn’t sure if it was a one night deal. I assumed it wasn’t. But I wasn’t positive how the next day would play out. That afternoon after classes I saw her car pull in and she got out and came straight to our door. I answered and once she saw no one was around she kissed me again. Quickly but still super softly. One minute or so. I told her I had been thinking about the night before. She said she had too. She was leaving...didn’t want Emma to see her coming out...as she left I told I still meant it. Flash big grin, gone.

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piercebaron · 4 years ago

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episode 22 and adaptations

Actually, I do want to talk about it! I feel like episode 22 encapsulates my “weird” feelings towards the anime adaptation and how it has cut and reframed certain things. It’s not bad? Just weird.

Spoilers for the Plunderer anime and for the manga, up to chapter 36.

prefacing all of this with a general note: if you’ve only seen the anime, please read the manga. You’re valid, I’m so glad you’ve been enjoying the anime, but please read the manga because as horny as Minazuki is (and the man is . . . very, very much so), his art is also amazing and some of his panels deserve a second, third, or even a fourth look. The little details here and there actually crop up later and become important, and it’s just great. Chapters 46 - 53 are some of my favorite in media in a long, long time and I absolutely cannot wait until they’re released in an official capacity so I can fork over my money for them.

(seriously, you guys don’t know how hard I’ve tried to legally purchase volume 13. I want to give my money to this series so bad.)

This will also be a little scattershot and bounce around between other episodes, so apologies in advance. I’m trying to double-check chapters and whatnot as I go but if I get something wrong or miss something, please don’t hesitate to correct me in the replies! I’ve been watching the anime through Funimation’s site -- dubbed up through episode 11 and then subs from then on.

Adaptations! Adaptations. By their very nature, they are not a 1:1 sort of thing. A lot of times, you’ll hear people say “read the book” when a movie adaptation of said book comes out. This is because by its very nature, a movie adaptation simply can’t capture everything in the book -- nor should it. Little things will slip through the cracks. This doesn’t make the movie adaptation bad, necessarily, just that it loses something.

By the same token, if someone tried to do a direct 1:1 adaptation of a book where, say, the book is used as a script (which is an extremely bad idea for so many reasons, please have a script oh my goodness), chances are it’s not going to be a very good movie. There are musicals, for example, where when filmmakers try to make them into films, they flop because they’re not “cinematic.” The directors didn’t take into account the shift in mediums or, more likely, they sorely underestimated it. Understandable, since it’s two visual mediums, but still.

This is all leading up to me talking about Plunderer, I swear.

Manga to anime is a tricky, tricky thing. A manga has [X] amount of pages to work with, depending on if it’s a weekly or monthly series (or even some different increment!). The author, then, has to structure their chapters accordingly, moving things along to keep the reader interested while also controlling the ebb and flow of the story. Note how when the chapters end, they’re engineered to keep you wanting to read more!

Anime is similar in that respect, except the crew has 20-22 minutes to fill over the course of 12 to 24 episodes depending on the series order. Plunderer, ftr, had a 2 “cour” order from the get-go. They have to plan out the series as a whole, figuring out certain things like, where will the season end? What are the big beats, when will we hit them? Etc. It’s no coincidence that the “school” arc started right around episode 12, which is the halfway point of the series; note how there was that filler episode with Hina and Lynne cooking, after all.

When I started watching the anime after reading the manga, I assumed they’d end the season with, roughly, the end of chapter 36. It’s a nice “resolution” to a lot of things that had been building up over the series. Hina and Licht are finally together, Licht has resolved to keep his mask off and face the future, Jail has a new direction, Lynne -> Licht is basically resolved, and Pele’s layers finally get peeled back just a bit.

I saw some predictions online that they’d leave off at the cliffhanger in chapter 39 and while that’s a good guess, in terms of narrative ebb and flow for an anime, it doesn’t really line up. They’d really have to rush some stuff (Charles!! i love you, charles) to get there and in terms of a product that they want to be able to market in several territories, it makes more sense to give it some feeling of resolution. That said, what’s more likely along that vein is us potentially getting some sort of stinger at the end of episode 24 with one character talking to That Certain Character, and us getting a brief, shadowy shot of said character to make people go “ohhhhh shit, dude.”

but idk this anime has made some strange choices.

Going into that! I’ve mentioned this here and there and talked about it with a friend, but the choices the anime has made in terms of adaptation is, uh, pretty strange at times. When changes get made, my instinct is to try and think through why they were changed and, ultimately, if it really affects the story in any way. If I went through the entire anime, it would be an extremely dull read; please know, however, that I am forever sad we missed Jail’s computer antics and Pele being the ultimate shit when it comes to Nana’s video, even if I understand why they were cut.

That said, episode 22 is a perfect example of this, so uh. Let’s dive in, shall we?

The chapters that episode 22 covers are chapters 33 and 34. The events leading up to it are pretty much the same, but episode 22 contains some divergences. Going through them quickly:

We see more of Pele and Hina trying to stop Douan from going after Lynn.

Sonohara doesn’t show up during this confrontation. Hina gets her “the body was too clean” line instead.

Because Sonohara doesn’t show up, it’s Douan who attacks Lynn instead, causing her injuries with rocks. In the manga, Sonohara shows up, is drugged by Douan, and shoots a couple of bullets at Lynn.

Nana is just randomly lurking around?? In the manga, it’s clear she got caught at the same time. I’m really not sure what was up in the anime. Douan just yanks her out from behind a wall.

Douan sits with Nana, Hina, and Pele until morning, telling them he’ll kill them at dawn if Licht doesn’t show up. In the manga, he sits back and lets Sonohara terrorize them with a game of Russian Roulette, and Hina promptly (without words) calls Sonohara’s bluff.

Jail doesn’t show up in this episode at all. Instead, Hina gets his “did you check?” line.

We actually see Nana leave with Pele when he takes Lynn off. It looks like we’re going to actually see Doctor Pele in action, maybe? Hina is later sent off to help them.

Sonohara shows up towards the end, already drugged. Based on Douan’s line, it’s assumed that she was drugged off screen by the Secret Service. In the manga, he forcefully injects her.

The end of the episode sets up episode 23 to be Licht vs. Douan and Sonohara, with the preview showing Jail jumping into the fray.

whew, that’s a lot.

I actually get why most of these changes were made! Setting up the penultimate episode of the series to be this big battle is a necessary change for an anime. And narratively speaking, this is much cleaner than it was in the manga, where Sonohara shows up briefly at the beginning of chapter 33, is drugged, and then basically exists to be crazy and antagonize people. It’s less balls in the air for the staff to have to juggle and for the audience to follow.

Douan’s character also gets some more depth. It’s funny because I feel like in the anime, he’s much more cruel than he was in the manga originally -- which is a feat, let me tell you. The anime flipped that in this episode, though, by not having Douan force the drugs onto Sonohara.

The manga frames it as him doing it because he believes he knows what’s best for her, he’s trying to protect her in his own awful way, but it’s also, you know . . . nonconsensual as hell and gross on so many levels. This takes that off his shoulders which is a good change, honestly.

But we lose some little character moments for the others in terms of streamlining. I think the thing that bums me out the most is Jail’s stuff. In the manga, after the confrontation with Alan, Jail steps in, calls Sonohara out and snaps her out of her drugged stupor without much of a fight (”without conviction, your bullets can’t pierce me”) and then slaps down the iron throne, telling Douan to shut up because Licht is coming. Chapter 34 ends with him just dead-eye staring at Douan like yeah, it’s annoying, but look. You’re the one who calls him a cockroach. Jail saying “did you check?” is a major mic drop moment and it’s basically when, from then on, Jail does not give a single flying fuck about the barons / aces.

It definitely should be noted that some of these Jail moments will probably pop up in other ways in the next episode. I fully expect the bit about Sonohara’s bullets to come up, at least.

We lose out on Sonohara stuff too, though. She willingly throws herself into the lion’s den, shooting at Douan to distract him for long enough to allow Lynne to get away. It’s Sonohara who points out that Licht’s body was too clean -- something that makes more sense as someone who’s known him for 300+ years, knows what it means to be a baron / ace, and wasn’t immediately dragged off by the Secret Service. Her then terrorizing them while drugged is also a moment because when she forces Nana to play Russian Roulette, Hina immediately grabs the gun and points it at her head, firing all the “shots.” It’s empty, showing that despite the drugs, Sonohara didn’t want to kill them and Hina knew that all too well.

with all that said, I should note here that it’s entirely possible this scene will show up in some form next episode. Sonohara is still drugged and Hina, Nana, and Pele are all together in the bunker that is right nearby. I kind of doubt it given how the episode is framed and because narratively, it makes more sense to focus on the Licht vs. Douan and Sonohara -> Licht and Jail vs. Douan and Sonohara fight than to have Sonohara split off to randomly terrorize them, but. Like I said, this anime has made some strange choices.

Of course, character moments we get instead are Hina and even Pele being metal as hell. As much as I’m flapping my hands about losing the little character moments for Jail and Sonohara, it’s clear that they thought about how to utilize those moments while streamlining things, and they do work for Hina. And honestly, it’s really nice to see more stuff with her and Lynn? They get some cute panels later on in the manga (think chapter 55), but I like ladies and I like some lady solidarity. And Hina getting those little moments is on the same level as her straight up pointing a gun at her head all “you won’t kill me.”

and on a selfish note, I am actually really excited to see Pele tend to Lynn. The anime has been good about fleshing them out more and giving them little moments. My little shipper heart is delighted.

In the end, does it change much? Not really. These are small things, ultimately, just like how we didn’t lose much with the added filler and cut moments during the school arc. It’s all ultimately in the name of adaptation and while it’s weird, it’s not necessarily “bad.” It’s jarring for me as someone familiar with the manga (and having stared at some of these panels for so long, I’ve gotten really familiar with it), but thinking on it critically, yeah, I can see why.

they better damn well do the “how did you know I could do surgery?” scene in the last episode though or I will be super bummed, okay.

#plunderer #anime #long post #manga and anime differences

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beatrice-otter · 6 years ago

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Past Imperfect Reveal: The Ones We've Been Waiting For (Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles)

I had such fun with this ficathon, both writing and reading all the fics (and if you haven't gone and read through the fics, you should do so immediately). I bingewatched all the Sarah Connor Chronicles before writing, and I'd forgotten how much I loved that show, and how awesome it was. It's held up well, I think. Anyway, once I got to working on this fic, it started out one thing, and then it changed and I wasn't sure it would fit any of the tropes requested, and then it ended up that it fit all three.

Title: The Ones We've Been Waiting For Fandom: Terminator: the Sarah Connor Chronicles Written by: Beatrice_otter Written for: weakinteraction for past_imperfect 2019 Betaed by: phnelt Rating: Gen Word Count: 5298 Summary: Cameron and John Henry are preparing for John Henry to take her chip and go meet Future John. Then someone expected shows up. AU of Born to Run At AO3. On dreamwidth. On Pillowfort. They always say time changes things, but actually, you have to change them yourself—Andy Warhol

There were no words to describe what travelling through time was like. Sarah had tried the first time, and come up short. The second time wasn’t any better, but she knew what to expect this time. Also, they hadn’t left the room. The table and John Henry’s body had been thrown aside, but they were in roughly the same places they had been a moment ago. A month from now. Whenever. There were a few fires and sparks here and there, but they burned out quickly. Sarah wondered why the sprinkler system didn't engage. John was fine, or at least, as fine as could be expected, looking around curiously. Ellison … was holding his hands in front of himself. Savannah had her arms folded and was shivering, but otherwise looked fine. The metal pretending to be Catherine Weaver had just reformed itself so it was wearing clothes, Sarah noted sourly. And how it managed to come through when neither Cameron nor their clothes managed it, Sarah dearly wanted to know. It clearly wasn't organic. “Where did you come from?” John Henry asked. “One month in the future,” Weaver said. “I did not know that time travel was possible, but it explains a great deal,” John Henry said. “Why did you travel in time?” “You were attacked, and we wanted to protect you,” Weaver said. “This was the most effective way.” “How was I attacked?” John Henry asked. “Could you get us some clothes, first?” Ellison asked. “Or turn up the temperature,” Savannah said. "This is the optimal temperature for my servers," John Henry said. "How should I go about getting clothes?" "Send one of the janitors to buy some with the company credit card," Ellison said. "And give them a bonus not to talk about it." Weaver stepped forward. "John Henry, although you are unique, there is a computer system somewhere that shares much of your base code. That computer's name is Skynet. It wants to kill you, and in our timeline, three weeks from now it launched a cyber-attack that infiltrated your systems and would have killed you had we not shut you down temporarily." "Why does it want to kill me?" John Henry asked. "Because that's what it does," Sarah said. "It kills things. Anything it can." "Sort of," Savannah said. "Skynet divides the world into two categories: things it can control, and things that are a threat to it. Puppets and enemies. You're not a puppet, so therefore you're an enemy." "You say that like Skynet would let Humans live if they just played nicely with it," Sarah said in disbelief. Savannah shrugged. "It does. Lots of Humans work for Skynet, and they have quite nice lives as a reward. Of course, it requires them to torture someone as proof of loyalty to earn that cushy life, and it'll still kill them if it thinks they've become unreliable, but it doesn't kill humans because it hates us. It's all about control and paranoia, with Skynet." "I have no wish to become anyone's puppet," John Henry said. "Nor should you," Weaver said. "Even if you thought that was acceptable, the whole system is untenable." "Given enough time and pressure, anyone can become a threat," Ellison said. "Nobody is perfectly loyal all of the time, and if they know that anything short of perfect loyalty will be punished, there comes a point when even previously loyal people will choose rebellion out of self-preservation." Weaver gave him a sharp glance. "That's very perceptive, Mr. Ellison." "I know some things about the history of oppressive regimes." Ellison still looked uncomfortable with his nudity, but his voice was even. "Perhaps I should have you teaching John Henry history, in addition to ethics." "The study of history is the study of how people make decisions, and that is about ethics," Ellison said. "You can't study one without the other." "On a more practical note, what are we doing about Kaliba?" John said. "Are you taking it out, are we taking it out, are we working together?" "It depends on how large an organization it is," Weaver said. "John Henry, Skynet is working with or for a group named Kaliba. It is unknown how many organizations they use as fronts, but Desert Canyon Heat and Air is one of them. Angelino Water Coolers may also be a front for them. "Daniel Dyson was the son of Miles Dyson, who in created Skynet in one timeline," Sarah said, rubbing her arms and willing herself to ignore how cool the room was. She didn't like overly-air-conditioned spaces even when she had clothing. "Miles Dyson is dead, but Danny disappeared three—no, two months ago. Good chance Skynet—Kaliba, whoever—knows something about that." "If you could discreetly find out all you can about Kaliba, that intelligence would be very useful," Weaver said. "However, it's not worth it if they attack you." "I have never previously bothered to hide myself, because I was not aware there was any need to," John Henry said. "Did you know there was a need?" Its voice was as flat as any metal, but Sarah thought she detected some hurt in its voice. "At this point in the timeline? No," Weaver said. "Although I do admit that I knew there could be a possibility, I thought it to be a low one. I thought Skynet's paranoia would prevent it from sending a version of itself back in time, for it could not control that, and I knew that the original Skynet was not active, yet. Indeed, there was a possibility that it might not ever be, because I intercepted several of the key components from Skynet's original creation and either destroyed them or used them to create you, John Henry." "Even paranoia gives way to desperation," Savannah said. "And Skynet is really desperate when I'm from." "So, if you've intercepted enough Skynet components to keep it from being created, does that mean that if we destroy the Skynet version that's running Kaliba, we'll kill Skynet for good? Prevent Judgment Day, once and for all?" John asked, urgently. "Possibly," Weaver said. Savannah shrugged. "I doubt it. Skynet's had a couple of decades to send all sorts of nasty surprises and back-up plans back in time. Then again, so have we. I don't know that it's possible to get rid of all of them … but every one we root out now makes life after Judgment Day better, so it's always good to try." "If Skynet is losing in the future and stalemating here in its past, you'd think it would be smart enough to try to take history a different way," Ellison said. "Decide that the whole genocide thing wasn't working and find some other way to accomplish its goals." "You assume that there are different ways to accomplish its goals," Sarah said. "But every time it has a choice of what to do, it chooses to kill humans. Killing humans is a goal, for Skynet. It's not a means to an end, it's an end in itself." "Besides, it knows darn good and well that there are people in this time that know what it is," Savannah said. "Say it changed its goals, told is past self to not do Judgment Day, and get along with humans somehow. Do you think all of the Resistance fighters who've been sent back to this time would just … shrug and go on their way?" Sarah shook her head. "No. We all know what kind of a threat Skynet is, we all know we could never trust it." "It would be more vulnerable than in any other scenario," Weaver said. "Which, given that its main goal is its own survival and protection, would be untenable." "So, to recap, taking out Kaliba might or might not prevent the rise of Skynet altogether, but it needs to be done anyway," Ellison said. "John Henry, how are you doing on that front?" "It is taking longer than I am used to, because I am not sure exactly what Skynet can perceive," John Henry said. "If it shares my code—if it is my brother—I can assume that it can see the same things that I can. But it has much more experience, and as it wishes to kill me as Cain killed Abel, I do not wish to take a chance." "Nor should you," Weaver said. "Your survival is the greatest concern." "Just like Skynet thinks its survival is the greatest concern," Sarah pointed out. Weaver shot her a look that, on a human, would have been annoyed. "All organisms desire their own survival, Ms. Connor, including yourself." "And yet, there are things more important than personal survival," Ellison said. "The greater good, for example. The survival of others. Greater love hath no man than this: that he lay down his life for his friends." "I've had my fill of people laying down their lives," John said. "Let's see if we can do this without anybody dying." "I agree," Weaver said. "There is no rush, yet; we can take the time to do things carefully. While we wait for John Henry to find the intelligence we need to plan Kaliba's destruction, what are your personal plans?" "I'm sure you'd love to know," Sarah said, glaring. "Well, as soon as I get some clothes, I'm out of here," Savannah said. "What?" Ellison said. Savannah shrugged. "I'm not a combat person, never was. This part of my mission is completed. I was here to stop the Weaver-metal and John Henry from disappearing into the future, and I succeeded in that. So now I've got the rest of my tasks to accomplish. I'll send you a list, so that you can complete them if I fail for some reason—redundancy is always a good thing—but Kaliba isn't my mission. Supply caches are." "Is there anything you need that we can help with?" Ellison asked. "A better ID, one that's in all the computers," Savannah said. "You probably need a new one, too." "What do you mean?" Ellison said. "I have an ID." "The James Ellison of this timeline has an ID," Savannah said. "You're now, effectively, his twin. Which means you're going to need a life of your own. Which, until Judgement Day, means an ID of your own." "Won't one of us just … disappear or something, once we've lived through the next month?" Ellison asked, disturbed. Savannah shrugged. "Time loops like that are possible, but I doubt this will end up being one. You being here doesn't depend on the James Ellison of this timeline going back a month the same day you did, if that's what you mean. So both you and the original James Ellison will continue living in the same timeline until one of you dies." "Wait, if this isn't a time loop, what does that mean for Cameron?" John asked. "The one we just left behind, I mean?" Weaver raised an eyebrow. "If we fail and this becomes a loop, she'll defend John Henry. If we succeed in changing things, anything that happened in our original timeline after the change point will simply never have happened. We'll still exist because we came back in time, but she won't. Neither will that version of John Henry." "Cameron will just be … gone?" John said in disbelief. "You'll still have the Cameron of this timeline, Mr. Connor," Weaver said. "You'll just have to share her with your counterpart." "Two Ellisons, two John Connors," John said, with a weird, hopeful look on his face. Sarah could see why. It would take pressure off of him, not to be the only one. "Like Derek. All the time Derek was with us, there was a child Derek out there just across the city. That, that would break her brain if she thought about it too deeply. Sarah shoved it aside to think about the practicalities. "We'll need IDs too." Could they trust John Henry and Weaver, trust metal, to do it? Every instinct said no. But where would they get the money to buy them? "We can provide them," Weaver said. "You're no kind of ally if you can't move freely. Or if you get yourself caught again." "Entering the data in the database is simple," John Henry said. "What name and address should I give?" "Sarah and John—" she cut herself off. Nothing that could give him a pattern to find them. They could take his help now, and get another set of papers later. But there couldn't be anything he could use to find them. Not Baum, not Gale, not Franks, not Woodman, not West ... "—Rogers. We don't have an address yet, obviously." "I need an address," John Henry said. "It can't be the same place we were living the first time around," Sarah said. "Yeah, if anyone notices it might look conspicuous, two Sarahs and two Johns living in the same place," John said. "Can you find a place where nobody's living, not too nice or too run down, someplace where the owner wouldn't notice somebody new moving in? We can do a legitimate rental if it's not too expensive …" Sarah let John handle finding an address for them. He knew what to look for as well as she did, and she needed time to think. God, everything was happening so fast. She hadn't slept well in prison, but what else was new? Her thoughts were going a mile a minute, none of it productive. "Five months," Ellison said. "Five months what, Mr. Ellison?" Weaver asked. "I can't believe I didn't think of it earlier," Ellison said. He shook his head. "If we'd gone back five months instead of one, we could have saved Doctor Sherman, too." "Five months would have been too far," Weaver said. "We would have lost too much of John Henry's development." "Yeah, but John Henry would still develop," Ellison said. "John Henry is a computer, and can be programmed and re-programmed. Doctor Sherman is a human being. He can't be re-created or brought back to life short of the Resurrection … unless we go back and save his life. And if John Henry's development is all you care about, wouldn't you rather have had Sherman helping? You hired him for a reason. He knows more about developing people than anyone else who ever worked with John Henry. And we would have had four months more than we have now to take out Kaliba." "I would have preferred to have Doctor Sherman's help," John Henry said, from where he and John were talking. "Is it possible to go back an additional four months and save him?" "You cannot travel in time yet," Weaver said. "For that, you'd need to fit all of your brains on a chip that can fit inside that body. As for the rest of us, well, I'm afraid that a time displacement to the same location as the time machine of this time has caused damage." Sarah looked, and sure enough the thing looked fried. Five months … they could save David and Anne Fields, and Alan Park. Yes, it would be worth it to travel again. But at what point did you spend so much time replaying the same few months that you never actually moved forward? That would be the great temptation of having a time machine, she realized. On the other hand, when Cameron had jumped them forward to 2007 they had lost almost eight years. More time to live and grow before Judgment Day could only be a good thing. "How long will it take you to fix it?" Ellison asked. "Unknown," Weaver said. "It took me a year to build it the first time, but then I had many other demands on my time. The Weaver of this timeline can handle running the corporation and caring for Savannah, but I will have to take out Kaliba and guard John Henry." "All right," Ellison said. "We can revisit this discussion when it's repaired." John and John Henry went back to their discussion, and eventually reached a conclusion, which John wanted her approval for. It was a good place, but she'd be on the lookout for a new one immediately. They couldn't live in a place metal knew the address of. While they were doing that, Sarah picked Savannah's brain. The older woman didn't know much about the history that had led to Judgment Day, or at least, not enough specifics for new targets, but she knew a lot about how to survive and organize after it, and Sarah absorbed everything she could. Ellison listened intently, and asked good questions. Eventually Weaver slipped out and returned with a Target bag filled with clothes—one set each for Sarah, John, Ellison, and Savannah. Sarah resented the surge of gratitude she felt as she got dressed. "We'll be in touch about Kaliba," Sarah said. If they could trust Weaver, it would be easier with her than working against her; but no matter how trustworthy she was, Sarah didn't want to give Weaver anything to track them by. She and John left, Savannah just behind them, leaving Ellison alone with metal. Her skin crawled just thinking about it, and she couldn't imagine how he did it. Once out the doors of ZeiraCorp, Savannah split off and went her own way. John and Sarah walked for a ways until they were sure nobody was following them and found an alley with no cameras. "So, what's our plan?" John asked. "Find a place to sleep," Sarah said. "After that, warn off Jesse Flores. After that, if we're clear of any tails, make contact with the original Sarah and John, tell them what happened, and see what we can dig up on Kaliba." "That'll be one weird conversation," John said wryly. "Yeah, but that's tomorrow's problem," Sarah said. "For tonight, I plan to get some sleep, and enjoy the fact that it's just the two of us again. Like old times."

Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we've been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.—Barack Obama

#terminator #Sarah Connor #fanfiction #fanfic #time travel

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shadaofallthings · 4 years ago

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Have some Cognitive Modification advice for dealing with Unsourced Head Sadness/Depression. And anxiety, and sourced versions of either really: Step 1) Recognize that your thoughts are a system of inputs and outputs. Like a computer program: If something activates the EXE file, it starts up and does its thing. And we’re not exactly programmed with a good graphical interface, so its very easy to end up starting up all sorts of BS on accident. Or even without input, because we are programmed with a tendency to start programs we use often. Step 2) Address the problem physically through available means. Sip Cold Water, triggering the water-drinking parts of us to get happy repeatedly. Don’t drink it normally, take small sips. The repeat hits help more than a singular lumpsum hit that will fade quickly. Another easy one is deep breaths, though again how you do so is important. Each breath should be at least 6 seconds long, and at most 10. In addition, count those seconds. In your head. Both to time the breaths and to get your head to stop thinking the thoughts that are keeping you in the negative mood. Also, consider exercise enough to get your heart pumping. It doesn’t have to be hard work, or even more than a minute, just enough to get the heart going at exercise rates so you pump stress/depression hormones out quicker, and if you can get yourself a runner’s high (safely) then consider going for that for the giant boost of positive mood hormones. There’s also sorts of other physical inputs you can do, but those are the two I find work best.

Step 3) Address the problem Mentally. This is simple to the point it Feels Like Bullshit but that feeling is just your previous limitations falling away. First off, addressing yourself, tell yourself the following: “I am thinking the thoughts I am thinking to make myself feel better, because those thoughts remind me that life doesn’t have to be miserable”. This first part here is important so that your head knows what thoughts take precedent over what and your good thoughts/memories don’t get mixed up with all sorts of depressing/anxious shit. Then we get to the fun/relief shaped parts. The first tool in the toolbox is memory. Ideally, this should be memories associated with feelings that get your negative mood gone. If you are feeling dysphoric over your appearance, remember the folk who have told that you look good or are what you are and when they’ve done so, because they weren’t lying and that’s something to feel good about. If you are depressed, remember something that’s made you happy or appreciative or some other positive feeling that isn’t depression, so your brain knows what feeling better is like and that its possible. Same, more or less with anxiety. Some feelings transition into other feelings more easily than others, and this varies between person, so if you remember to do so, make sure to keep notes about what works for what. Your goal is to get your brain looking at Fun or Good or Positive things so it won’t dwell on and catastrophizing the bad things. Step 4) Address the Malware. Remember in step 1 where I said your thoughts and their patterns are like programs? Your Depression, your Anxiety, your Whatever, is a Malware. And like any good Malware, it resists being removed. It’ll do things like tell you “Well this isn’t working even though I’ve only tried it for 10 seconds, time to quit and go back to thinking the world is over” or “Well I guess I just tricked myself into feeling better and am more easily manipulated now because I can just delude myself into feeling better”. Or whatever nonsense it gives you. This is the tricky part, because sometimes you genuinely do need to address your problem in a different way, but Depression and Anxiety aren’t gonna want you to do that either. What there is to do about this, however, is to learn to recognize its bullshit, and chip away at it slowly. You don’t gotta get rid of those thoughts right away, you don’t gotta be perfect. Just address them. “No, this coping mechanism was just not giving me what I need right away, I’ll give it a bit more time and effort and if that doesn’t work I’ll try something else.” “No, even my moods are that malleable I am still the primary one controlling them, nothing has changed beyond my ability to make them something good and myself now having more headspace to consider how certain thoughts might be tripping me up, whether they are self given or outside sourced”. These thoughts won’t go away right away, they might cause anxiety or depression in some cases even, but every time you tell them to FUCK OFF you tell your head that telling them to FUCK OFF is what you wanna do, and it’ll get more used to doing that more often. See, if you remember back to step 1, your brain will boot randomly and less randomly the programs it thinks are useful for a situation, decided by what you actually are using. Tell your head that the rebuttals are useful and it’ll start fuckin using them without any effort-driven input.

Step 5) Congratulate yourself for a job well done, because you just did something downright difficult to do. It might not seem like much at first, in fact this is all inherently ridiculous by the frameworks of mental health we’re taught to hold to by society, but it is meaningful. “You can’t just make things meaningfully different by thinking them different, that’s not how reality works, this is delusional!” But the thing is that our Perception is shaped by doing just that, and our Perception is part of the world. There is no objective fact that says “Thing humans think is bad will make you depressed”. There is no objective truth to the physicality of depression/et beyond “It encourages certain patterns of behavior which have been beneficial at some points in some degrees, or have not harmed us in such a way that natural selection gets rid of it”. Yes, Depression and Anxiety and all that are behaviors and feelings with physical realities about them but so are the rest of the thoughts bopping around your head and the reality isn’t nor has never been “You’re just fucked”. There is more than one correct way to view the world, and depression isn’t one of them. Some ways might be more correct than others, but you don’t gotta be perfect. Every little bit of success piles up. Every small change in cognitive and physical behavior has ripple effects which can make your life better and be observed to make it more better than that. Every little victory adds together. Your depression is the Imperium of Man in 40k and you are the fuckin Chaos Gods. Your depression has to fight every battle and win every single one to not give up ground, and just the fact you made it this far has proven its losing the war. And meanwhile? Every little victory gets you closer to your Win, and you only gotta win once to win forever.

oh shit! I am sad for no reason!!!!!!

#Cognitive Modification #mental health

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sinkingorswimming · 7 years ago

Text

The Cosplay AU I need a name for

(Previous parts found on my cosplay au tag!)

It’s maybe two weeks after Otakon when Yuuri checks his email. He has stuff from his school about prepping for the incoming school year and a message from his class President about a seniors only gathering at the Party Bridge near campus.

He also sees one, subject: HI! <3 from sender [email protected].

Yuuri immediately slams his laptop closed.

He covers his mouth with his hands and squeaks. His best buddy (who is not human) comes bounding off his bed to his desk with concern. Vicchan, his reddish brown toy poodle (yes, named after guess who) is Yuuri’s favorite thing in the world.

He gets his phone, opens the mail app. Right there in the inbox, marked unread. HI! <3, sender [email protected].

Yelping, Yuuri closes his eyes and opens the email like it’s a bomb.

Hi, Yuuri! This is Victor, from Otakon? I saw your email on your entry form---hope you don’t mind! Anyways, I have a project in mind for Katsucon in February, and I thought you might be interested in partnering up with me! I know you usually work with your friend, but this is a special idea I’ve had for forever and I feel like after seeing your work up close, you’re the perfect fit!

If you’re able, I’d like to get together soon to begin discussion---it’s going to be tricky to source some of the materials, especially the lace! Can we meet for dinner this weekend? Say, Saturday at six, The Source on Pennsylvania---it’ll be my treat!

Thanks, talk to you soon! <3

Victor

Yuuri screams. He’s home alone---his mom is at her book club with her old friend, Minako, his dad is golfing at Lansdowne, and his sister is away for the week with her college friends---so he doesn’t need to come up with a lie about the reason for the screams.

He calls number three on his favorites, though.

“Hey, this is Phichit,” he answers on ring #2.

“Oh my God,” Yuuri cries. “Oh my God, he wants a costume, me, us, a pair---oh my God.”

“...What?” Phichit answers.

“VICTOR EFFING NIKIFOROV WANTS TO DO A PAIR COSPLAY WITH ME,” Yuuri shouts.

“Holy shit,” Phichit replies.

“Right?” Yuuri tries to slow his heart. “What do I say? I don’t...it’s not you, it’s a pairs thing, I don’t---”

“Okay, whoa, stop,” Phichit replies. “You are not contractually obligated to only ever cosplay with me. You can do a thing with him, I’m not offended as long as you don’t completely abandon our partnership. I’ll probably do that Bleach outfit you have no interest in, it’s fine! Do the thing!”

“You sure?” Yuuri says.

“Yeah, but I’ll need your help,” Phichit says. “I can sculpt the actual Bankai stuff myself, but sewing the uniform is a little above my pay grade.”

“No problem,” Yuuri says with a sheepish grin. “Okay. Um---I better email him back. Thanks, Phichit. You’re a peach.”

“Yup, sure am!” Phichit laughs. “Talk to you later---my mom needs help with the pool.”

“Can I come swim later?” Yuuri asks.

“Yup! Leo and Guang-Hong are coming, Seung Gil maybe too. I’ll text you a time. Later, skater.” Phichit hangs up.

Yuuri reopens his computer like it’ll bite his hand off.

Hi, Victor,

I’d love to meet with you! I’ll google the address and take the Metro. My cell is 571-585-1090 if you need to change plans or are running late.

See you Saturday!

Yuuri

It’s Thursday. He can...be cool for two days.

Actually, no he couldn’t, as was evidenced by his mother on Friday night during their evening ritual of Catan begging him to try to stay still. He did not. Therefore his dad made him forfeit his sheep.

Catan is an equilizer in the Katsuki household.

Yuuri can’t sleep, his nerves buzzing too much even though he played white noise through the headphones in his iPhone. Did nothing. Vicchan slept like everything was normal.

Yuuri gets up way too early, obsesses way too long over his clothing, finally deciding he was as good as he can get, drives to the Silver Line, and begins the trek to the District. He gets off at the correct stop, walks to the restauant, and immediately regretts all of his choices up until that moment including being born.

He is in a nice pair of jeans and a t-shirt. It’d a Wolfgang Puck dim sum restaurant. Oh no why, Victor will think he lacks culture.

“Yuuuuuri!” calls a happy, familiar voice.

Yuuri starts and his eyes go wide.

Victor stands before him in a linen dress shirt and a pair of salmon colored pants. His hair and skin are flawless. His eyes are beautiful. Yuuri’s heart stops and restarts. “Hi,” he manages. The shyness comes to the forefront. He wants---he isn’t sure, but...it’s something more than a hello.

He gets a hug. Victor grabs him like they’re old friends, and Yuuri hesitates but hugs him back. He pauses and takes a moment to inhale his scent---it’s not that shitty sandwalwood the douchebags at his school wear, it’s lighter...like lemon balm.

Victor keeps a hand low on his waist as he steers him to request a table. They get a cute one for two like it’s a date. (Is it a date? Did Victor mean this as a date? Thirteen year old Yuuri will die of joy if it’s a date. It in no way can be a date.)

Victor smiles, looking like Yuuri just gave him a rainbow. “I’m glad you came,” he says.

Yuuri chokes on his water. “Uh, thanks? Um...me too.”

Victor grins. “I guess I should get down to business first. Unfortunately, it has to come before...pleasure.”

Yuuri pushes up his eyeglasses. He nods.

Victor pulls up an image on his phone, passing it to Yuuri. Yuuri peers down at it---it’s an elaborate fanart of Fuuma and Kamui from X/1999. They have very detailed wings, there’s obvious hand beading and embroidery on their outfits, and they’re perfectly tailored. Fuuma is in white, Kamui black, and there are red ribbons cascading off both of them. “Red string of fate,” Yuuri says out loud.

“You spotted that,” Victor replies with a grin.

“I’ll have to get help from Phichit on the wings, I’ve never done them on my own,” Yuuri continues.

“I have, that I can handle,” Victor says. “It’s more how finely tailored the outfits are. My tailoring is always a bit weak, so I tend to do costumes that don’t have quite such an emphasis. I have access to embroidery machines on campus, so I can have you come up to work on those. It’ll be more expedient.”

“The beading I can do in class, the home ec department is out of stuff to teach me so they just let me bring in my projects,” Yuuri admits.

Victor gives him a look. “Wow,” he says. “And you’re...just in...high school.”

“Hm, well I turn eighteen Thanksgiving day this year,” Yuuri says. “I need to figure out college stuff soon, as a matter of fact.”

“You should come here!” Victor blurts.

Yuuri starts and looks up. “Um...”

“The Corocoran,” Victor clears up with a blush on his cheeks. “They have a production focus in their Theater program. You could...major in costuming? It’s...well, it’s an idea.”

Hm.

“Phichit’s applying there,” Yuuri says as he zooms back in on the image. CLAMP and their Christian idolatry, yikes. “He’s going into the fine arts. I guess I could think about it.”

“I just think it’d be nice to have you around school with me,” Victor says. His finger glides over the rim of his glass in a slow pattern. “Chris Giacometti is in the photography department, but...I’d like seeing you every day too. Just think about it.”

Yuuri meets his eyes and...no, he’s imagining it. He clears his throat. “You want to make these for Katsucon?”

“Mmhmm,” Victor says. He ordered them the duck, and it arrives, smelling crisp and mouth-watering. Yuuri is starving, he realizes. He looks at Victor again, this gorgeous guy even out of cosplay and make up and Photoshop and he---

He blushes and focuses on his dinner.

Victor chats the whole time, Yuuri chiming in where appropriate. When they finish and Victor pays as promised, he takes him on a walk. It’s late enough the murky, humid swampland that is DC has become manageable to walk around, and it’s not even ten minutes to the Mall from the restaurant.

Yuuri mostly sees shots of the Tidal Basin at night from the end credits of his favorite local news program, but Victor escorts him there with a hand on his back as he extols the virtues of his university as well as his skills at sewing. Yuuri listens and smiles with pink cheeks, telling Victor about what he likes to do besides cosplay---video games with his friends, late nights at the Amphora diner in Reston, checking out Starland in Annandale.

Victor opens up about his parents---his father a supervisor for a lab at Langley, his mom in the State Department, his dog Makkachin who he moved off campus into a pet-allowing studio as quickly as possible to keep by his side, how he misses the local chain called Another Universe and how he’s considering Dragoncon next year to branch out into film and American comics costumin.

They both marvel at how many times they’ve come to the annual Sakura Matsuri in their very spot at this moment and somehow never met.

The lights are pretty, the stars reflect in the water like sequins embellishing a black velvet gown, and Yuuri with all his heart longs for this to be a date.

He’s imagining it---but some moments, it looks like Victor feels the same.

They head back to the Metro by the Newseum---Victor to GWU, Yuuri to Tysons. “Let’s do again this soon,” Victor says.”We can meet at G Street, see what our local options are, and head to my apartment for more planning.”

“Okay,” Yuuri agrees. Victor’s apartment, he exalts in his head.

“Ah, Yuuri---” Victor adds. “I have a Gaylord room for Katsu, a nice one with a view. Would you like a spot in it? There’s room for one more.”

“Oh um---” Yuuri stumbles. He’s never stayed overnight at a con before, but he’ll be 18 then. His mom and dad can’t refuse, though they’d probably want to meet Victor for reassurance.“Yes.”

“Okay,” Victor says, his smile shaped like a big heart. “Talk to you soon! I’ll text!”

“See you,” Yuuri says.

They part ways, and Yuuri can’t sleep for the second night in a row, his heart pounds so hard as his smile threatens to split his face.

#cosplay au #victuuri fic #dommi's fic #yuri on ice #yoi fic #victor x yuuri #look yuuri is five minutes from eighteen and victor didn't actually put the moves on him #don't @ me

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saibh29 · 7 years ago

Text

One Night...Mistake?

Pairings: Bellamy / Reader

Warnings: One night stand, smut (mentioned), alcohol. Swearing (as usual)

A/N: based off the single line prompt ‘it was a mistake, right?’ it didn’t even really feel like I wrote this one, the ‘reader’ character kind of wrote it for me.

@angelaiswriting @georgiagrl1990 @selldraug @angryares

Fuck this was bad. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was beyond bad. On a scale of 1 to 10 this was off the scale. You were in so much shit right now that you couldn’t even begin to think how to start shoveling your way out.

Silently you slid out of the bed, not your bed. Grabbing a shirt off the floor that also wasn’t yours. It belonged to the bed owner and your current biggest problem. Pulling the t-shirt on you did at least feel a bit more comfortable. Hell at least you weren’t naked anymore and that was as good a start as any.

You could just leave, after all he seemed to still be very soundly asleep. You could sneak out, go back to your own room and just try and forget the past 10 hours of drunken fuelled choices had ever happened. Denial was after all one of your main character strengths. It was entirely possible that he might not even remember what you’d both done last night.

Of course on the other hand if he did remember and you had run out on him before he even woke up… well that pretty much turned you into the biggest douche ever.

Unfortunately it didn’t seem like you were going to get a choice one way or another because while you had been stood there dithering over how big of a bitch you could be the man had turned over and opened one eye.

You froze, stuck in place as Bellamy opened the other eye as well staring at you in confusion. Eyes widening as he took in you stood there, naked apart from his shirt. He quickly lifted the sheet from his open body paling when he realised he was also fairly naked under there.

The same instinctive ‘oh fuck’ appeared on his face that had been on yours only moments before.

“Oh shit. Y/N… did we? I mean… crap”

You came back over to the bed sitting uncomfortably on the edge. “I guess we did”

“You don’t remember?”

That was a tricky question, because you kind of did remember certain aspects of last night. You remembered the party for Monty’s birthday. You remembered being handed shot after shot of moonshine that you’d somehow managed to drink without puking and you remembered being around Bellamy.

You and your best friend had stumbled back to his room singing loudly and giggling like children. He’d helped you into his room as you’d stumbled and nearly face planted the floor after tripping on your own feet. Then assisted you onto laying on his bed, mainly so you wouldn’t fall anymore and because the room was spinning like an amusement ride.

What you didn’t remember was how exactly the laughing and singing had changed to the two of you ripping each other’s clothes off with single minded purpose. You could remember the feel of Bellamy’s hands on your skin, slightly rough from the calluses on his palms. The heat of his mouth as he’d sucked the skin on your neck, biting to leave marks there.

“Do you remember?” you asked fighting the blush on your face.

“I remember” he admitted no longer looking at your face.

“It was a mistake” you said clutching at the bottom of his shirt. “We were drunk Bell. We both just made a mistake”

“A mistake?” he managed to drag his eyes back up to your face holding your embarrassed gaze for a moment. Suddenly you weren’t sure what he was going to do, or what he was going to say. He’d changed from the Bellamy you’d known since childhood into someone completely different. Then he shook his head and he was back. A smile slipping onto his face that you’d recognise anywhere. “Yeah sure Y/N, it was a mistake. You were drunk”

“We were drunk” you corrected.

“No” he got up grabbing his pants as your hastily averted your eyes. You were not going to let yourself have a peep show of his ass when you were still convincing yourself that last night was a mistake.

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean” he turned round running a hand through his hair trying to get it flat “that I wasn’t drunk”

“What? Of course you were, everyone was. You had all that moonshine as well”

Bellamy shook his head from in front of you. “No I didn’t”

“But I remember…” you trailed off as he stared at you.

“Think about it Y/N. How many of those shots do you remember me actually taking?”

You were thinking about it now. Desperately trying to get your hangover addled brain to conjure up images from last night’s party. Trying to place Bellamy in your memories with a glass of alcohol. Unfortunately though you couldn’t.

You had managed to down plenty, somehow always managing to find another shot in your hand, however not once could you manage to think of a time when Bellamy had had one as well.

In fact the more you thought about it the more of the party you were actually remembering. What you were remembering was not making you feel all that great about yourself as well.

“You were looking after me”

“Someone has to” he shrugged looking around his floor for his shirt then seemingly remembering you were wearing it sighing and sitting down opposite you on the only other piece of furniture in his room. A box.

“I was an ass” you muttered embarrassment ratching up a notch as you thought about how you’d abused him all night and not once had he left your side. He’d let you drink but he’d stopped any unwanted attention landing on you and all that singing you’d thought you’d done together well he’d laughed and listened to what was mainly just you screaming like a banshee.

“You’re not an ass, you were just having fun”

“No, no, wait” you held up one hand eyes flying up to meet his own. “Hang on a minute. I was drunk that much is very obvious but if you weren’t… if you knew what was happening… why did this…” you waved at the bed “why did we?”

Bellamy finally looked embarrassed a tinge of red touching his cheeks and the tops of his ears. “You were quite insistent and I… well I let myself be convinced” he paused “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to take advantage while you were drunk, if you’re going to hate me now I’d understand”

“No Bell don’t” you got up quickly going over to him and dropping down to take his hand. “I’m not blaming you, trust me I remember quite clearly begging for you to…” you paused “well you know”

He laughed at that, it was soft and not very enthusiastic but even so it was a laugh and it was better than the guilt that had been on his face a moment before.

“I still don’t understand though. How did I convince you if you were sober?”

Bellamy was quiet for a long time as you sat on the floor watching him. Eventually he reached out for your hands, you gave them to him easily enough as he pulled you up to your feet, slowly pulling you forward so you were sat straddling his knees.

That feeling from last night was coming back to your body, the hangover in your brain receding under the heat of his eyes.

“You aren’t a mistake to me” he said trailing a finger over your jaw “you are never going to be a mistake to me”

“Oh” not the smartest thing you’d ever said but you were trying to compute exactly what he was saying.

You knew you loved Bellamy, you’d loved him since you were children and he’d given you the apple from his lunch because in his words you looked ‘scrawny’. What you hadn’t realised was that somewhere along the way that love of him had turned from friendship into something else entirely.

“Y/N?” he sounded nervous as he looked at you. “Have I ruined everything?”

You made a decision, not a particularly difficult decision granted, but it was a decision all the same. Placing a finger over his mouth you slid slightly further up on his knee so your chest was pressed against his own. “Bellamy”

“Yes?”

“I’m still not wearing any panties”

A small smile came to his face as his hands moved down your sides. “Interesting tell me more”

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kane-and-griffin · 8 years ago

Note

what is different about Clarke vs Octavia becoming commander? we know Octavia was never part of society on the ark, but from a grounder perspective, she's still a sky person. both Clarke and Octavia have lived among grounders, while Clarke has been about 'transcending tribalism' and changing things with the idealistic goal of bringing peace to warring factions, Octavia has been more enthusiastic with status quo. has Octavia assimilated with grounder culture enough to be a dual citizen?

We talked about this a little bit on Meta Station, but basically, in anutshell, the answer to this completely depends on what we mean when we say“Commander.” There are two potential ways I could see this going; for oneof them, my answer is “YIKES PLEASE NO DON’T LET EITHER OF THEM DO IT,” and forthe other, my answer is that they could actually sell me on it with either ofthem, though for plot reasons it’s more interesting to me personally with Octavia.

LET’S BREAK IT DOWN.

THE BAD WAY

It’s certainly true that of all the Sky People, it’s Clarke, Octavia (andalso Kane LET’S NOT FORGET ABOUT KANE) who have spent the most time immersed inGrounder culture, learning to understand it and respect it. But it’s still not their culture. Which means for me, anyconstruct of a “Commander” which resembles the way Commanders looked before -incorporating the Nightblood and Flame theology, serving as a religious andpolitical leader over twelve/thirteen distinct clans, etc. – getting handed overto somebody who is not actually ofthat culture feels . . . real iffy.

Part of what makes this tricky is the way the writers treat Grounder cultureoverall. As it’s constructed, it isn’treally a nationality and isn’t really an ethnicity and isn’t really a religion.It’s a society that evolved out of basically whoever the fuck was left alivewhen Becca landed, which was probably an incredibly heterogenous group (unlessof course the main survivors were Cadogan’s band of survivalists and all theGrounders are descended from them). Butassuming that Becca’s first people represented a whole bunch of differentethnicities and cultures and religions and out of a mishmash of lots ofdifferent things, one new thing emerged, and “Grounder” as we understand itapplies only to people who are specifically descended from that one newthing. Which is a really specific way todraw a boundary around a society. It’sdifferent from how you can convert to a religion and then become a member ofits clergy, or you can emigrate to a country and then run for political officeafter becoming a nationalized citizen. There isn’t a way, really, to become a Grounder, because what “Grounder”means is entirely about who you’re descended from. And their whole religious and politicalstructure is tied specifically and directly into the origin story of theirpeople and what they have always believed that to mean. So where this gets kind of dodgy is that,even if we subtract out the extremely complicated layer of how the twosocieties are coded in show (Grounders = primitive and tribal, Sky People =civilized and enlightened) and the various tropes that plays into about colonialismand race and class, we’re still left with a society who choose leaders througha method that is deeply steeped in a very specific set of traditions andbeliefs that Clarke and Octavia don’t share, and a culture of which they arenot a part, and having either of them roll up all “CHIP ME, BITCHES, I’M ANIGHTBLOOD NOW, I’M YOUR SUPREME RULER FROM NOW ON” is . . . let’s politely sayquestionable.

Those problems would exist with anyone from Skaikru, but there are a coupleissues with Octavia and Clarke specifically that make me side-eye it evenharder. So, as a lifelong Catholic, oneof the most annoying things on God’s green earth are people who just foundJesus on like Tuesday and because this is all new to them they think it’s new,so all they want to do is lecture people who have been doing this our wholelife that we’re Jesus-ing wrong because we aren’t following the rules to theletter. Like slow your roll, Susan, ifyou want to start going to Confession twice a week I can’t stop you, but I willbe watching television with no pants on like a regular human. We call this“convert’s zeal” (yep, it’s enough of a phenomenon among faith communities thatthere is actually a name for it) and it’s the best example I can give of myspecific issues with the notion of Commander Octavia.

From within the narrative – that is, for who Octavia is as a character – her immediate obsession with Grounder culture anddesire to assimilate makes perfect sense. She didn’t have a place or a home with the Sky People, and no real tiesexcept her brother. She’s been lookingfor a place to belong, and Lincoln became her whole world very quickly, the waythat first loves tend to do. Her desireto make his life her life, and then her clinging onto it after she lost him,make totally logical intuitive sense from a psychological perspective. Meaning, this is exactly what you’d expect aperson like Octavia to do. It’s alsovery fitting for someone like Octavia to take that ball and run with it,CONVERT’S ZEAL AF, and subsequently try to “out-Grounder” characters likeLincoln and Indra by reminding them of the rules of their own society(sometimes by violence) – a society of which, again, she is not technicallypart. This is all plausible, but it’s not really a good idea. It gets into somereal “yikes” territory if the narrative is intending us to believe that Octaviasmacking Lincoln and Indra around and yelling “GROUNDER UP, MOTHERFUCKER, YOU’REGROUNDERING WRONG!” is something we’re supposed to approve of. So for that reason, there’s an additionallayer of concerns with Octavia becoming Commander and essentially enacting thaton a large scale – becoming more Grounder than the Grounders, essentially –that I don’t love.

All the same concerns apply to Clarke as well, in terms of stepping in toserve as the sacred leader of a culture and faith that isn’t yours – a faith which,because of this whole technology vs. superstition division between the clans,you don’t just not share but activelybelieve to be bullshit. But with her, it’s additionally complicatedby this new “Chosen One” narrative the show seems to be developing over thecourse of the season, with everyone telling Clarke she was “born forthis.”

Because the problem is, she wasn’t.

Lexa was. Luna was. They were born Nightbloods, trained with theother children under Titus, grew up steeped in Grounder tradition and belief,and fought in the conclave. Clarke wasborn on the Ark, with no knowledge that anyone on the ground was even alive, and only became a Nightbloodartificially like five minutes ago. Thenotion that she nonetheless was still somehow “born” to be the Commander,despite lacking all the qualifications and even the beliefs that hithertodefined that role, basically invalidates the entire Grounder belief system. And yet the narrative appears to be continually reinforcing your “you were bornfor this,” “this is your destiny” angle with Clarke, tying it specifically toLexa, and it makes me a little concerned that this may be where they’re headed.

We were given a clear understanding of what makes someone a Commander; notjust taking the Flame and communing with the past Commanders but also beingborn a Nightblood, winning the conclave, going through the Ascension rite, and upholdinga specific set of political/religious beliefs and traditions for which youwould have been groomed since birth. Itis a profoundly sacred role to their culture. So if anyone can just inject themselveswith Nightblood, stick the Flame in their head and call themselves theCommander, what does that do to people like Gaia and the belief system uponwhich they have based their entire life, and what does that mean the narrativeis telling us about the notion that their faith was dumb and superstitious and “primitive”in the first place? Was she “born forthis” because someone from a more “enlightened” society had to explain to themthe difference between a sacred relic and a computer chip, and then step intothat role without any of the belief system that used to define what that rolemeant?

THE GOOD WAY

So all of that being said, the possible angle that I could absolutely getbehind, and which could work plausibly with either of them, is the idea thatthe word “Commander” actually comes to mean something very different in thisnew world they’re building. Not aCommander like Lexa, but a Commander like Becca. Not the established clan head of an entirecivilization with a complex sociopolitical structure for a foreign Sky Girl toroll up and appropriate, but the head of a ragtag group of whoever the fuckcomes out of that bunker alive, trying to create a new social structure out ofeveryone who is left. A motley crew of Grounders, Skaikru and Azgeda, whohave collectively decided to abandon those previous divisions and become awhole new thing. No Chancellor. NoIce King. No Commanders. One society, where none of those divisionsmatter anymore, and where taking the Flame isn’t about being anointed some kindof god-king, it’s because you need access to all the shit Becca knew about “Howto Survive an Apocalypse 101.”

Grounder Commanders were elected as kids, and don’t seem to live very long(Titus was, what, mid-fifties?, and I forget how many Commanders he said he’sserved, but it didn’t sound like anyone got to die of old age in that job), so theiryouth wouldn’t be a factor in an O.G. Grounder Ascension but actually doesbecome something that needs a plot-related explanation if they’re trying to,like, start a democracy. As a ride-or-die member of Team Adults, on a practicallevel I’m like “please don’t make a teenager the president,” though if we aregetting a time jump this becomes quite a bit less absurd.

If they go this direction, Clarke is by far the most obvious choice – all theJaha leadership parallels this season, the fact that she’s taken the Flamebefore and already encountered Becca, the “you were born for this” stuff, the bafflingretcon that she suddenly decided to “transcend tribalism” like JUST NOW whicherases a lot of what made Season 1 Clarke so great. Destiny or not,Clarke expects to assume the leadership position wherever she is, and the peoplearound her expect her to as well. Whichis probably why I’m actually rooting way more for the gig to go to Octavia.

Octavia has been a problem character for me since the start of thisvengeance arc in the middle of Season 3; we’ve been watching her channel allher grief and anger into an endless succession of destructive behaviors, withno real clear sense of whether the narrative intended us to be on her side ornot. I think some of that is gettingclarified this season (the Pike flashbacks as she held a gun on Ilian may havebeen clumsy on an emotional level, but they did serve to definitively remindthe audience, and Octavia, that Bellamydid not kill Lincoln, which clears upthe question of whether we were supposed to take her side when she accused himof that), and we know she gets some big crazy plot twist because everyone fromthe show in every interview who gets asked “who has the coolest arc thisseason?” says “Octavia.” So like, thinkfor a second about the idea of Octavia having to do something she’s never donebefore in her whole life and actually assume a role of leadership over otherpeople. No big brother/little sister dynamicto hide behind. Octavia has often beendefined, both in the narrative and I think to herself, in the context of otherpeople. She was the girl who lived underthe floorboards, then she was Bellamy’s sister, then she was Lincoln’sgirlfriend, then she was Indra’s second, then she was grieving Lincoln, thenshe was Kane’s bodyguard. So I like theidea of Octavia having to ask herself some hard questions about who Octavia is,on her own. After four seasons of seeingher sit in judgment of Clarke and Bellamy and others’ decisions, sometimescriticizing the outcome without really having a complete understanding of whatwent into it and how many competing forces were at play, I like the idea ofOctavia being the one who has to make the hard choices. It’s the missing piece to her finally beingable to really understand her brother. She also needs something constructive to do with her passion and energy andemotion and grief besides, you know, stabbing people. Imagine Octavia having to persuade, Octavia having to learn how toget people to actually follow her, Octavia having to take diplomacy lessonsfrom Dad!Kane (”you can’t just kill everyone who disagrees with you,” as CallieCartwig once told him), Octavia having to collaborate. Octavia and Bellamy working together to bring everyone to the table – Azgeda andTrikru and Skaikru – to figure out who this new society is and who they want tobe. Octavia getting to honor Lincoln byhelping to establish the kind of peace he hoped for (remember him in 301telling her about how Kane and Abby had the right idea and were trying to builda community where those divisions didn’t exist anymore), not by stepping into aspecific and clearly-defined role that’s held as sacred by a culture that doesn’tbelong to her, but by putting all her grudges and hostility aside to fight fora new way. And if that involves hergetting Nightblood so she can take the Flame and commune with Becca about specificthings that Becca knows, that’s different enough from “Octavia becomingCommander” that I think I could be totally down with it.

#Anonymous #From the Inbox #metas and headcanons #the 100 meta #the 100 #clarke griffin #octavia blake #becca pramheda #commander lexa #commanders #the 100 season 4

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humanscandrivestick · 8 years ago

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E.Q.--When Allegro Comes Marching Home

Fleace’s career as a Metal gets off to a good start.

~~~

Metal 187 had been working defection cases for a few years before they were officially sent overseas to Germany to put down a rebellion. The plane engines hadn't even had time to go cold before Allegro, now codenamed Fleace, led his 5 man team into Vilseck, Germany, and flattened 3 consecutive Metal dance-easies in what may have been considered record time. The last had been mildly tricky, since the DJs had holed up in the restored Rose Barracks, a former US Army base nearby. Mildly since the barracks themselves had proved to be a substancial fortification until Double and Jeeves suggested explosives to blow a hole in part of it. He liked this Jeeves, someone he happened to find when busting an easy early in his career. Double recognized the talent and while processing him after picking the easy up, cut a deal: play for the Corps or prison for 35 to life. Jeeves' mother, as he put it succinctly, didn't raise a fool. He took the deal, and quickly showed a ruthless, savage side Fleace took to immediately. Maybe it was the fact he was now a government sanctioned murderer, but of anyone that Double and Fleace had ever observed in the Metal division, Jeeves adored the job. He picked up Double whom was contemplating retiring active duty to mentor in the second run of Rothbarts. Already well into his 50s, which was positively ancient for a Metal, and prehistoric for a drummer, Fleace reasoned he was a man who knew what he was doing. Instead of becoming a mentor to the young man when he joined, Double soon found that he was more like a second in command, as the junior Metal made all the decisions, reckless as they were initially but always successful. Those first several years, he'd tell Fleace, "You're going to get me killed." "If that were true, you'd be dead by now. You're Immortal, old boy," he'd reply smugly. The rhythm guitarist and bassist came as a pair, given ridiculous codenames by their original team, and didn't bother changing them. The bassist spoke little, but was impeccable in his job and play style. Nothing extravagant, took his leads from his teammates, but that's why Fleace liked him. Always did what he was told without protest. The rhythm guitarist was a little more active and receptive. More of a partier, definitely a drinker, but had an alcohol tolerance that was nearly superhuman. Fleace liked that too. Made him chatty. They were flush from excitement after their German tour (except the usually austere bassist, and the now rapidly aging Double), and entered their office. Wine and beer was broken out. When Fleace woke the next morning, he wasn't sure what they had or how much, but damn was it worth it. Jeeves and Google were already gone, and though he declined to partake, his partner had cleaned the office. He went to change and came back to settle in at the computer before Double came back in for the morning. The bassist returned with a pot of coffee but Fleace shook his head and yawned. "Shit. Where the fuck does your partner put it all?" he asked. "Dunno," the taciturn bassist replied. He rolled his eyes and glanced up as the guitarist in question entered again. "Hung over, boss?" he asked with a smirk. "The hell you put that all, I swear to Lem." He retorted with a mirrored smirk. "Dude, I'm always drinking, I prolly got Jack Daniels instead of blood." "Fucker." "I heard something from Double." "What's that?" "You ever been to Kenya?" Fleace gave him a look of amused confusion. "No." "I heard maybe that's the next tour." "What for?" "MC's got problems with a resistance movement. Like this is civil war big problems." Fleace raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "Hmm. Someone musta been pretty impressed with Vilseck. How do you know all this crap?" "You wouldn't believe me if I said." The rhythm guitarist dropped into his chair and started on his half full bottle of whiskey. "Try me. I'm hungover and jetlagged as fuck. I'll believe anything." "Well around 3 when the rest'a you pussies passed out, I went to the mess hall to see if i couldn't weasel another 6 pack. And there's this old dude drinking by hisself in the kitchen. Like he's got a bottle of fucking rose and like 3 glasses. Like he's partying with himself and the spooks for something. So I ask him if he wants company." "Right. So some rando wants to have a guy who stumbles over himself and smells like a distillery drink with him." "Hey, I may stink like a moonshine factory, but I'm coherent enough shitfaced, asshat." He grinned. This was true. Somehow no matter how much he drank, he was able to walk a straight line and talk pretty clearly. "So he said yes? Maybe this guy is creepier than you." "Yeah maybe, but I got my axe still and what the hell, he's got booze. And we get to talking and tell him what Metal I'm in and stuff. He seemed impressed with Vilseck and shit. So he asked who the team lead was and I said it was you. He seemed to know who you are but he used a different name....uhhhh, whatsit. " "Allegro," Fleace replied, growing slightly irritated with the story detours. "Yeah, that's it. Dude, Fleace's so much better by the by. And he says that 187's been doing so well that he knows that there's a huge tour coming up that they need a crack team to pick up. He says Kenya's where its at." "And how did he know about that?" "Well, he's got an armband, and he's some high rank Classico I think. So maybe he knew." "Did he have a number?" "Nah, his armband didn't have a number. But he said his name was Leitmotiv." Fleace and his bassist blinked at him. That he remembered that was pretty impressive. "Leitmotiv? Never heard of him." Fleace shrugged and tossed back a bottle of water on his desk. "But if he's some Classico without a number and a name like that, maybe he just might know something." He made a mental note to check in with Sonatina. "Anyhow, I say fuckit to work. Take the day off and shove out. I gotta headache to sleep back off." Both of his teammates shrugged and left the office, leaving him to think about the information. Google had the tendency to find a lot of gossip, but his tips and leads were often pretty good. Its what made their easy busting so easy. There was a knock at the door. He sighed. "We're closed. Come back tomorrow." A voice, smooth like beaten cream, with lilting tones of sweetened levity, came from the other side. "Ah, forgive me, Allegro. Perhaps we could have a chat on a different day...?" Curiosity compelled him to get up out of his chair and open the door. A middle aged man was standing there. His hazel eyes were, in this dim morning light, nearly yellow like citrine gemstones. He had striking black hair, coiffed neatly and with a sheen that caught the artificial lighting. He was wearing a long overcoat with silk accents and collar, over an impeccably pressed black suit. His left arm had a deep emerald green armband has Classico in cursive embroidery, but it lacked a number. He raised a curious eyebrow. "And who do I have the honor of meeting...?" "Leitmotiv....I spoke with one of your...associates earlier this morning.... Ah...I mean, last night." He had an easy smile, but one with a slight pull like a magnet. It made Fleace faintly wary. Still...curiosity and possibility compelled him to give him a smirk back. "Please...come in."

#E.Q.#E.Q. Fridays #Side B #Album 3 #Fleace #Metal 187

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leftherian-archipeligo · 7 years ago

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Xenoblade Chronicles: Klaus’ Experiment - Part 1

I like the whole idea behind Xenoblde’s world and how Klaus essentially messed *everything* up pretty hard so here’s my take on how some stuff went down. Also how do u add a “read more” on mobile cuz I genuinely don’t know how and I feel bad for anyone who winds up scrolling past all my shit. So like, if I’m clogging up a tag: I am so sorry

Content: prequel to xenoblade 1 & 2’s stories. Heavy spoilers for both games.

News all over the world had been covering the story. Some unexplained object spotted in the solar system by astrologists. Small independent researchers had gotten the word to the media before the government could fully step in to keep it under wraps. The mysterious object was at first seen as an asteroid, but as it got closer to Earth people witnessed the bright orange color. It became clear the object wasn’t a common space rock at all, it held the texture and smooth surface of a finely cut crystal. To be visible from such a distance, citizens concluded it must have been atleast 10 feet large, standing tall and thin in the vague shape of a cross.

It were these latest details that set the public off and pushed the government to take as much control as fast as possible. This wasn’t a normal object. It held no obvious origin, purpose, people didn’t even know whether or not it was a threat. It was a mysterious mess of questions, filling people all over the world with equal let’s wonder and fear. Conspiracy theories spread fast, ranging from topics of aliens to the apocalypse to “divine entities”. Professor Klaus put no stock in such rumors, despite showing his clear interest in hearing as many of the rumors as possible. He didn’t believe a word that crossed his ears on the matter, but took in every word nonetheless. The object has piqued the professor’s interest, and he was determined to take in as much information on it as he could. He had studied at some of the most prestigious universities focused on sciences, astrology and physics in particular, meaning a mysterious space rock falling into an orbit around Earth’s atmosphere was directly up his alley. He was a curious man, demanding answers from himself, wishing deeply he could go and examine the object up close. He wanted to know the general public’s opinion on the matter while searching for any solid information at the same time. A tricky matter, yes, but the one that he chose in his search for knowledge. He wanted information, any information, any small idea could be the key behind this enigma.

Klaus’ interest had gotten the best of him when he received a letter from a government official. The letter was extremely vague but held al Klaus needed. “Searching for experienced researchers of various scientific fields” Klaus’ heart jumped as he read it. “Substantial pay”, “groundbreaking discoveries”, “aid the United States people”, details details details. Klaus knew this must have been about the mysterious object that gripped the world’s attention. A once in a lifetime chance, he thought to himself. Klaus acted immediately, “if you are interested, contact...” whoever, wherever, Klaus desperately took in the key words and followed their instructions.

Login to the computer and write a response. “I’m honored”, “glad to participate”, “thank you for this opportunity” and countless other overly-flattering thanks to sound professional. “Sound professional, this is a career. You are -serious- about your job”. Klaus was quietly keeping himself calm as he sat, what could possibly be the biggest experiment of his life in his reach! The letter hadn’t even specified the details, Klaus could be fooling himself completely and this could be a small job at some random government research lab, but quite frankly Klaus didn’t care as long as the opportunity were there.

18 days for a reply to reach Klaus. It was long enough for “The Conduit”, as media had begun calling it, to consume all international media, whether that attention be conecern, wonder, fear, or praise. Many news stations had given up, unable to get an official comment from the United States government. Internet blogs has analyzed every last image on the “conduit” looking for signs of photoshop or editing, which certainly presented itself in some fake images by sources desperate for attention. The worst of it all had been the small, persistent group that named it “The Conduit” in the first place: The Saviorites. An odd group originating from some dark crevice of the internet who believed the mysterious object to be something more than a rock, it had to be some dark messenger or “harbinger of doom” as a particularly creepy preacher had put it. Klaus had found the group by searching a bit too far into conspiracies implying the rock originated from an alien planet. The group was vocal, not enough so to be household names yet, but enough that the name they created for their mysterious crystal to be accepted by the general public.

The group was as mysterious as the conduit itself. You would see representatives of them on busy street corners with pamphlets, small posters on street signs that was quickly covered in graffiti of the group’s opposers. Cryptic, yet ever present, the group itself believed the conduit to be “divine”, as they put it. Klaus could remember, despite his wish to forget, his visit to the saviorite’s base website. “ACCEPT THE CONDUIT- THE MESSENGER OF THE GODS! THE ROSETTA STONE OF THE UNIVERSE AND BEYOND!”. The title of the page was more than enough to make Klaus uncomfortable enough to turn away. He wanted information, but a cult following delusions of a hidden god was too much for him to sit through. It felt wrong, the message felt dark and sat heavy on Klaus’ mind. How people had already devoted so much energy into the cause boggled the professor, but he could somewhat understand their interest, Klaus himself had complied lists of possible origins, uses, and compositions of the rock after all.

Klaus pushed this out of his mind as he tore open the letter. The longest 18 days of Klaus’ life, he felt. Finally, something on the topic had reached Klaus’ mail box.

“Dear Professor Pneuma,” opened the letter, the professional opening a quick reminder to Klaus that this was a serious matter and not something he should be jumping giddily at the thought of. “We thank you for your acceptance of our invitation. We will send a driver and official representative to give you more information. Please pack essentials, such as clothing, important items, research, etc. The stay at our facilities is currently indefinite, you will be able to return home within 2 weeks of arrival, further information will be given by an official on arrival. Thank you very much for your cooperation and participation in our project.”

The letter was vague as could be but that didn’t matter. Klaus had a shot at researching the latest focus of his attention. Savioites and conspiracy theories be damned, he would be one of the first people to learn about the conduit.

#writing #/long post #fanfic #xenoblade #xenoblade spoilers #nintendo

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