#''number one has already broken out by sheer strength alone number two. if you do not find a way to free yourself

[twicecut]

I don't think we talk enough about how badass it is that while in a 1960s asylum, Diego successfully escaped a straitjacket by forcibly dislocating his arm (ow), and picked the lock to his cell with a pen (?) he smuggled in despite being in massive pain and presumably high on the cocktail of drugs the nurses would have kept him on in order to keep him agreeable.

#thinking about the fact he had to have learned that as a kid #and the scene gets more horrifying with that knowledge #thinking about little diego struggling to get out of his binds while reginald impassively watches and tells him to figure it out #''number one has already broken out by sheer strength alone number two. if you do not find a way to free yourself #you will remain there until you can.'' #and then diego breaks his arm trying to get out. and oh he gets out. with tears and snot and blood in his mouth from biting into his lip. #and his arm is screaming by the time he does it but the pride burning through hid chest is enough to make him grin through it. #he grins up at reginald like its one big fuck you but a tiny tiny bit of him hopes his unique escape will win him a little praise. a nod. #anything at all. #instead reginald just announces diego's time scribbles something down in his book and tells him he'll need to shave off four minutes. #in other words: disappointing. #diego cries privately about it later while grace tends to his arm in the infirmary and he punches luther before bed. #out of knives [ooc];

[evilzoldyck]

Fiancée

part II

Suppressing down a burdensome sigh, you  looked back at the establishment who regretfully informed you that you were not able to match the prerequisites that the job description required. You knew all too well the insinuation of that statement, coming from a zero educational background and a rather low income class, the echelon of the societal hierarchy was brutal in your pursuit of a second occupation. Instead of quality, values and work ethic, they chose to look at the brands of your shoes and your status in this highly polarised civil structure.

Perusing through the town for any opportunity you could sought out until your heels formed blisters was a normal part of your everyday life, this day though, you figured you could take a short break by resting underneath a shady spot at the bustling market. While you were rubbing on your sore calves you can't help but overhear the excited prattle of a group of girls nearby. They all adorned leathered purses and scintillating jewelleries; young, beautiful and free of any burdens and responsibilities. 

“Have you heard? The Zoldyck family are hosting a formal competition for the chance to win the noble position of becoming a wife to one of their son!” The blonde haired woman reported with wide eyes. 

“Really? That family of assassins are holding a public trial?” Another one with carefully manicured acrylic nails spoke up. “You’d think as an assassin they’d be less privy about this.” 

“That’s not all, I heard that the winner also gets ten billion jennys,” the last one stated. “The Zoldycks are always ostentatious as ever, probably a marketing strategy to lure more girls in to participate.”

“Who cares about some jennys. I’d want to see the groom in question and if he’s really as tall, dark and handsome rumours made him out to be. If I hadn't been engaged, I'd try it out in a heartbeat.”

The blonde woman scoffed and retorted back, “good luck with that, I heard there’s over a hundred girls coming in from all over the world intending on participating already, and that’s just the numbers on the first day. Who knows how many will actually end up in three days time when the trial officially begins.” The group of girls wandered away until you couldn't hear their idle chats anymore, but their conversation still replayed over your mind like a broken record player. 

Ten billion jennys? In three days time? Those numbers alone made you heart skip a beat. There was a strong urge for you to look further into this for a mere moment before you scolded yourself mentally afterwards. There was no reason for you to get involved with someone as infamous as the Zoldycks. ‘The costs far outweigh the benefits,’ you told yourself. Propping yourself back up to your feet, you began to head home once the sun sets beyond the horizon. 

“Mother?” you called out once you stepped inside the shabby hole in a wall restaurant you ran with her. The candle lights all but one had been melted down, making it hard for you to see through the small, dark space. Once you turned around the corner and into the small kitchen room you spotted her cleaning up after a rather large spill which looked like porridge from the stone pot. “Mother what are you doing? You know you’re not allowed to look after heavy tasks,” you reprimanded, guiding her up back to her feet and wiped off the spoiled food from her hands with a nearby towel.

“It’s fine, just a little accident is all.” she waved you off as you continued to clean her hands where you spotted a rather large bruise on her along her inner arms.

“What happened?” you demanded in bewilderment. “Did that bastard come here today? Did he do this to you?” your series of questions did nothing more than to drive her away from you, but the thought of that filthy loan shark landing a hand on your mother made your blood boil and hands shake until you couldn't see anything else. “I’m going to kill him the next time I see him.”

“Oh hush, there’s no need for that,” your mother dismissed as if it was a trivial matter. “I’ll just clean this up and head on to bed-” you stopped her from bending back down to clean up after the mess and insisted that you do it yourself as you directed her back into her bedroom upstairs. Supporting her weight all the way up the stairs you assisted in preparing her bed and tucking her in. 

“You’re such a good kid,” she suddenly cooed, bringing up her frail and roughened hands from labour comfortingly up to your cheek. You held onto it and smiled down at her softly in response. 

“How did the interview go? Did you get accepted?” Once your smile disappeared into a disappointed frown she immediately soothed you. “Opportunities will come and go, don’t fret about it, darling. You’ll get it next time.” Though you nodded along with her words with a small beam, you knew you couldn't survive on optimism for much longer. 

“Good night,” you kissed down on her temple and blew away the fire flickering beside her bedside table before closing the door. Though it may sound impossibly crazy and foolishly dangerous, you knew where you had to go in a few days. Though the chance of you winning may be less than one percent, you would take any chance you had in order for you both to escape the life you currently had. 

The next two days went by in a blur, monotonous and grey as ever, and when you finally arrived onto the grounds of the Kukuroo mountain on the third day have the reality finally knocked you into your senses. Around five hundred girls filling your very peripheral visions stood and crowded in front of the ill-famed gate. Their mere chatter mass assembled together sounded like a roar, intimidating you by the sheer size of the sound of your competitors. Nevertheless, with a determined spirit, you filled in with the massive crowd around you. 

Suddenly, the noise all but halted once an old, feeble looking man made an appearance before the participants, smiling joyfully as if he knew something you didn’t. “Welcome ladies to the first day of the public trial on behalf of the Zoldyck family,” he greeted mirthfully. “We have expected a big turnout and for that we are more than grateful for. Therefore, this morning and the next marks the first preliminary task.” 

“Without further ado, each of you will have one chance to open the Testing Gate, which all of you must know that the first panel weighs around two tonnes and the ones after weighs twice as more as before, you are free to choose which panel to open. If you fail in opening the gate within the first five minutes I am afraid you are immediately disqualified from the competition. There is no need to label numbers as we expect them to go down drastically, I will monitor the first task for the time being and to all of you, I wish you the best of luck.”

There was an unnerving glances shared with each other by the girls, anxious on how to overcome the first issue with their high end shoes and neatly done hair and makeup. Of course, the Zoldycks won’t be looking at appearance to fit the mold, rather it was strength that they were seeking for. You cursed at yourself for not realising it soon enough too, wearing the nicest clothes you had in your closet and even going as far as spraying a bit of your mother’s perfume.

As the time goes by, the numbers slowly decreased with each failure. Some even left without trying, those who went undercover as a news reporter, a media freelancer hoping to snap a quick picture and those who thought they didn’t bear a chance. So far there were only five who managed to open the gate with one or two choosing the heavier panels. Once it was decided that it was your turn, the sky had already turned dark with the moon and the stars hung high above the skies.

Narrowing your eyes in front of two tonne door, you began to lean all your weight and force into pushing it open. There were sweats beading up to your forehead already as you continued to push on forward. “One minute,” the man stated. The minutes turned into seconds and so far no progress has been made. Gritting your teeth you kept your force constant hoping that you could manage to get a crack soon. 

“Four minutes.” Those very words alarmed you, making you lose focus for a mere moment. Though as quick as it came, you fortunately caught yourself, instead you drowned out the crowd behind you, along with time, sound and your senses and the elements of the world. Carrying that energy you had, you honed in on pushing your momentum forward. Suddenly a gap shifted, making you focus on not losing that velocity.

The older gentleman was counting down the last twenty seconds but you couldn't hear him, the ladies in the back watched in awe as you were the first one in a while to make such progress in the last few hours. When the crack widened to a space that you deemed was enough to slip your body through momentarily before the door swung back and crushed your bones, you managed to squeeze inside within the very last second.

Gasping tremendously for air from the overexertion of your strength, you looked around to find yourself on the other side in a quiet, shrouded forests along with the other girls who made it through before you. Once they've acknowledged your presence, they were quick to assess you head to toe with their sharp eyes. 

Of course, you couldn't forget that this was a competition.There was thick tension in the air between you all knowing that these people did not view you as anything but a rival. Taking your spot wordlessly on a tree stump, you waited for the first task to finish with the others and that meant waiting all night and day until each girl has had her turn on the gates.

This waiting game continued on until the next late afternoon when the sun was about to set again. There was now a total of fifty three of you waiting on the other side, each anxious and tired as every second passes. Suddenly, a pair of finely dressed men arrived bearing a stone faced expressions while carrying finely ornate candlestick to light the way. 

“Congratulations on passing the preliminary round. We now continue on with the trial by heading to the estate. You'll do your best job to keep up with us.” Without any further questions, they swiftly turned around and headed into the direction to the top of the mountain. It took you all a second to process what they said before you all followed and began your long trek uphill.

You were no stranger to walking vast distances but as you were currently running without sleep or food it made it quite strenuous for your journey up ahead. Once you've arrived, you’re greeted with the sight of a gargantuan house and in front, somebody waiting for you. 

“These are the ones who passed?” a woman dressed in a Victorian attire with a mechanical visor implored with a testy tone. 

“Yes Madame, should we escort them to their quarters?” One of the worker asked. The lady raised her hand in objection whilst keeping a steady view on all fifty three of you. 

“No need, I shall take them from here, you may be excused.” Without another word they bowed respectfully and left. “You all are here because you wish to make space for yourself in this family. Before you can idly daydream of such foolish fantasies, I will be here to test you all. You will be subjected to many trials, as many as I deem necessary, it will take days, months or even years but the trial will not end until I am satisfied that one of you is worthy enough. Should you break, cry, slip, scream, fall- should you show any sign of weakness during these times you are immediately disqualified.”

“Those of you who are not prepared for such endeavours, I advise you to head back now,” she stated, waiting for anyone to back out of the competition and when no one did, she narrowed her eyes further. “Very well then, follow me.”

There was an insinuation in her voice that tells you no matter what any of you will achieve you may never be deemed worth enough to earn a place in the family. Following the lady of the house dutifully she showed you all to a large room where fifty three futons are laid out in perfect symmetry on the floor along with a concave wood with a stick attached on the middle of the back and a pair of small bowls, one filled with rice and the other with cherry blossom petals for each bed. 

“You shall all sleep here during your time in the competition, those items you see are crucial to your rest. Place the rice to your left and the petals to your right head. The sticks are to prop your head up while you sleep where you will not make a single movement or sound. We will monitor you all night while you do and if I such as find a grain of rice or a petal out of place from their bowls or even failing to keep your head upright by these sticks, you are finished from here on out.” She instructed and before she could add more, she sniffed and grimaced for a second. 

“Be ready by six in the morning, the showers are down the hall to the left.”

Once she left, everybody claimed their spots on the bed and you took yours near the end of the back where it was the quietest. The one next to you was searching for her bowl of petals and you spotted it beneath her futon, out of her line of sight. When you offered it to her with a small smile she snatched the wooden bowl from you and averted her gaze instantly. 

“You shouldn't be here,” she muttered, sinking in her blanket. 

“What?” You couldn't help but ask. 

She rolled her eyes and huffed out an air of annoyance, “you’re going to get yourself killed.” Propping her elbows up to level with you, she eyed you seriously, “you’re not a nen user. We could all sense that back on the gates. Everyone here is a user except for you and that testing gate was nothing compared to what’s going to come. You shouldn't be here, you won’t come out the same if you do.” 

You watched her carefully rest her head on the stick and shut her eyes. Silently you did the same and through the pain and stress of your neck from balancing your head perfectly upright should’ve bothered you, it didn't do as much as her words. Still, you're willing to put yourself through hell, there was no other choice and to back out now would defeat your purpose.

It was close to dawn, and though you were restless all throughout the night you fought the urge to move and stayed perfectly still. Once you woke up however, you saw ten less empty beds. Frowning a bit, you got up to put your bed away and wash yourself before the clock strikes six.

Forty three people now remain and once you have all assembled in the main room before the entrance, the lady from before along with two other butlers arrived. This time she formally introduced herself as Kikyo Zoldyck, the Madame of the house and family. They directed you all towards a large room where a bowl of rice and soup was already prepared for each one.

“You must all complete your breakfast with proper, courtly manners, anything less revolts me. That means you must at all times during the meal to not slouch or make a sound, sit on your heels and eat a grain of rice one at a time.” She ordered acerbically. 

You took a seat to the one nearest to you and waited for their signal for you to eat. Once it was given, you apprehensively picked up your chopsticks and ate a single grain and more or less swallowed as it was so small you could barely taste or chew it. Five minutes have not yet passed when suddenly a girl doubled over, spilling her food everywhere whilst retching into the floor. Everyone turned their heads over to her in horror as they realised what you have all been eating.

Poison.

The smell of bile filled the room as Kikyo fanned her face to waft the air away from her vicinity and gestured to the guards to take her away. The rest of the meal was unfortunate as you struggled to ignore the groans and nausea of the others who fell victim along with the putrid smell around you. Ignoring your innate instinct to reject the food you chose to focus on your mind over matter, no matter what they were going to do to you, it was not nearly as painful as seeing your mother suffer when you could do something about it. 

It was then that your body went on almost pilot mode as you could not recall having any more thoughts or memories of yourself subjected to various torture trials. The days increased into weeks and the number of girls that were here soon dropped like flies. The woman that you spoke to on your first day, she was gone too by the fourth night as you watched the now empty spot beside you as you went to sleep.

Every day was a routine of testing the limits of your strength. Every meal given was always laced with some poison, it has come to a point where you suppressed your urge to vomit so hard each day that now it had sit still in your stomach. 

The same could be made every time you are sent to the electrocution chamber down in the depths of the cold basement where you could spend the whole day being shocked in miscellaneous voltages by the workers who looked like they were enjoying it too much. Or when snow came in, they would strip you bare of your clothes and drench you all in cold water outside. The lashings were always held arbitrarily though, they would only stop until the markings started to show as Kikyo deemed the sight of a scarred back to be ghastly to gaze upon.

Then there were only three, this time however, the task you were assigned was definitely an odd one. Kikyo was known for her admiration of finer things in life such as traditional japanese and eurocentric arts, this task she requires you was to perform an intricate dance. Beauty and gracefulness came later in the part of the competition you guessed. 

Though the level of difficulty was just the same as the previous ones.There was an emphasis on how every movement from the slightest tip of your fingers could immediately expel you if you strayed from the original choreography. For days at night you practiced until your feet would give out or until you heard birds chirping at the sight of the first light of the day. 

When the day finally came to determine your performance you are finally escorted onto the Zoldyck estate, though only one participant must attend at a time and you settled with being the last. So when it was finally your turn, you arrived at a private room where there was a screen that divided you from your spectators. The room itself was beautiful, lit with red candles and carefully carved up wooden walls that tells infinite stories.

You could see before you that Kikyo was not alone this time, there was another sitting patiently beside her. Before you could pry more to try and make out the mysterious figure, Kikyo’s voice reverberated through behind the screen to instruct you to begin. You inhaled a small breath and blinked in shock momentarily. You hadn't noticed before but the floor was absolutely covered in small broken glasses. You knew better than to expect the least by this point.

Clearing your mind as you do with every single trial that you participated in, you stepped forward. You could faintly hear the sounds of small shards of glasses every time you moved as well as feeling the red liquid slowly pooling beneath your feet. Nevertheless, you began without a moment to waste. Twisting at every turn, sliding your feet across the floor while masking your emotions with a stone, cold exterior. Hanging to every last words of her instructions to follow the exact routine. 

You were halfway done with your performance when the other figure suddenly stood up and came closer to the divider. Though you presumed it was quite unusual, you continued on with your dance until the person swiftly cut the screen seemingly with his bare hands to reveal an expressionless, grim man with long midnight hair and as far as you can tell, endless deep eyes.

The strange man that emanated pure darkness stood before you uttered your name in a low breath. “That is your name?” you halted your routine once he had addressed you as you nodded politely in response, looking down out of respect. 

“A daughter of a mere commoner, you run a restaurant with your poor, ailing mother down on an unnamed street. You don’t come from an impressive background or lineage, nor martial training of any skills and your nen has yet to be awakened.” He stated matter of factly. You held your tongue for you feared that you would be the cause of your demise.

He stepped forward towards you, his bare feet coming on contact with the sharp glass and yet no blood came gushing out like yours did. “You know the ones before you, they were the exact opposite. They came in and used their nen skills to protect and form a barrier against their skin and yet you endured even without having basic nen training which I would find quite impossible until this very day.”

“I could sense you are determined, but your heart is set somewhere else,” he came in closer and Kikyo now stood up, her lips pursed disapprovingly. “It is not me that you desire, is it?” The man was impossibly close to you that you found it hard to catch your breath and answer promptly. Judging by the implication of his words, he must be the son of the Zoldyck family.

“No.” You answered truthfully, not knowing whether or not that was the smartest move. He let out a small hum before asking once again, “then why do you do it? Why do you subject yourself to such extreme affliction without any power? Why do you fight so hard just to live another day?” 

“There are those worth fighting for, for every horrible persecution you put me through I will continue to fight.” His demeaning words spark a gust of defiance within you. “And you're wrong, I am equipped with power, something far more greater that no other kind of nen could reach.”

Furrowing his eyes, he looked at you in disbelief, “you're misunderstood, emotions cannot give you strength, they are mere obstacles in life’s objectives. It makes you weak.”

“Emotions aren't weak, they make me stronger, love made me stronger.” Looking into his eyes you saw no trace of empathy within him, you’re not shocked to learn if this man knows no concept of it. “It’s what kept me standing here after all this time.”

He stood still for a quiet minute, silently staring you down with those cold, dead eyes. He raised his arms and for a moment you thought he would strike you down with it and immediately dispose of you for speaking out of turn towards him. Instead, you're startled to find yourself swept off of your feet and held firmly by him, relieving you of your pain while your droplets of blood fell languidly, making a subtle drop against the wooden floor and glass.

“Illumi! What are you doing?” Shrieked Kikyo, holding up her dress to run towards the both of you. 

“The trial ends here,” he responded absentmindedly. “I have found my fiancée.” 

“No! It's only been a month!” She refuted erratically “She is the weakest of the bunch, her luck will run out soon just give it more time! There are far others more deserving with noble titles and background. You are upsetting the order, she cannot take your place beside you, she is far lesser than-” A look from Illumi caused her to clamp her lips shut.

“The sole objective was to find the strongest one to take the place as my wife and strengthen the Zoldyck family, was it not mother?” he asked bluntly. When she didn't respond he continued, this time facing you as he spoke, “I have seen proficient nen-users crumble under the pressures of these tortures, imagine the strength that she possesses once her nen is awakened.” 

“There is no need to look any further then, send the others home.” Illumi finished and began to carry you away from the room and Kikyo who appeared as if she was about to have a meltdown. 

Once the heavy doors were closed behind you, you flinched once you heard her piercing screams that shook the manor as he gave you a small imitation of a smile all throughout the time. 

You did not know whether to let your heart soar as you won the indisputable prize that could set a proper life for you and your mother or shrivel for the future. You could not have imagined in your wildest dreams for the man you’re sent to be wed off to be one that personified death. Just being held by him shook your very core. His aura radiated nothing but darkness, you felt no light in it that you could almost choke from the tension. 

There was no telling that this man would ever show compassion, there was something that tells you days with him would be worse than what you've endured these past few weeks. Setting your gaze forwards you tensed as you looked upon a macabre painting ahead of you, ironically painting your future ahead. 

In sparing your life, you ultimately gave him yours in return, but he and all his family would be a fool if they think they could take your love away.

#this took me so long but im satisfied with how the pacing went #and this is only part 1 hngggg #illumi x reader #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #Hunter X Hunter #Hunter x Hunter 2011 #yandere #yandere x reader #illumi zoldyck #tw:violence #tw:blood #tw:vomit #yandere illumi x reader

[deceitful-darlings]

Some Juza (a3!) yandere hc’s perhaps his s/o is a student

Juza’s very used to being alone at school, people have always been intimidated by his looks and he’s just come to accept that he isn’t going to have friends. People don’t talk to him unless they have to, or unless they’re looking for a fight, so when you approach him, he’s wary about your motives.

When you just sit down next to him and start talking, he has no idea what to do or how to react...there’s a whole class, year, school of other people to chat to, and yet you come to him??? He’s not sure how his reputation hasn’t already put you off him, but when that doesn’t, he’s sure his lacklustre responses will.

Once again, you still don’t leave him alone, no matter how many people tell you he’s bad news, no matter how stilted he is in conversation, you still sit next to him in class happily, you find him at break, if it weren’t for theatre practice he’s sure you’d be offering to spend time with him after school.

When you run into him in a bakery after school, he tries to hide the sweets he’s bought, but seeing him so bashful just has you laughing, not at him, but at how he felt he had to keep it a secret from you. From that day on your lunch always has some form of sweet in it that you give to him, he plays it off as feeling obligated to eat it because it was a gift with an awkward thank you, but you both know the truth.

He asks you once why you even started trying to befriend him, and you tell him that you’d seen him on the way home from school once, feeding some strays, and how he looked so nice. Then when you noticed him in your class, alone with no-one talking to him and all the bad rumours, you just had to.

When after a few months you still haven’t stopped spending time with him, new rumours begin to circulate, that Juza was threatening you to spend time with him, that he had some kind of hold over you, that you were just stupid so you wouldn’t leave him alone, that you were dating, you just ignored them, yours and Juza’s relationship is none of their business as far as you’re concerned.

You never though the rumours would spread far enough that you would become a target. When you left school and found yourself being dragged off by your hair, you didn’t expect no-one to come to your aid just because you were his friend. Turns out the boys were from another school in the year above Juza, he’d be avoiding them for weeks because he didn’t want to fight, and they’d had enough. Having heard about your friendship with him, they decided to use you as bait.

It worked. Not ten minutes after they’d pulled you into an empty lot, Juza appeared, sweat trickling down his brow, teeth clenched, and note crumpled in his hand. The boys seemed to enjoy his state, taking joy in his anger.

“Done being a coward now Hyodo? Shame, we would’ve taken them for ourselves if you’d chickened out again.” Seeing him pulling your hair to pull your head back and putting his face too close for comfort seemed to make something in Juza snap.

His fist soon met the face of the boy holding you, his nose crunching under the force of it. You weren’t sure if he broke his nose, but the moment his grip loosened, Juza pulled you behind him and just lost it. You’d seen schoolboys fight before, but the two couldn’t be compared. Schoolboy fights weren’t this bloody.

By the end of it, Juza was the only one left standing, panting, bruised, broken skin on his swollen knuckles and a number of cuts, but he was a hell of a sight better than the group of boys who’d started it. And seeing that, the sheer strength and aggression he showed...it was scary. But as soon as he caught his breath, he was in front of you, dropping to his knees and hugging you to him and apologising for getting you involved. You didn’t know it at that point, but Juza was not going to let anything like this happen again. No-one was going to lay a finger on you, if he was putting you at risk it was his job to keep you safe, you mean to much to him to risk losing.

#yandere #yandere male #a3! #juza hyodo #anon asks #sfw #yandere a3!

[linkspooky]

Nobara and Gojou

Nobara and Gojou have suffered similiar defeats in the Shibuya Incident Arc. They both lost, despite being clearly stronger than their opponent. Every single one of the main trio (Nobara, Megumi, Yuji) parallels a member of the flashback arc’s trio in some way (Gojou, Shouko, Getou), but while Nobara’s most obvious parallel may seem to be Shouko I would also argue she parallels Gojou quite a bit. Both Gojou and Nobara are characters that focus on individualism and duty above all else, in ways that Megumi, and Yuji don’t. Nobara parallels Gojou in the worst ways, she shares all of his flaws. 

1. Strength Isn’t Everything.

Jujutsu Kaisen has always been a manga about nuance and balance. There’s more than one way to skin a cat (or exercise a curse). Which is why we’ve seen the story introduce two seemingly opposing ideas. Number one, we don’t live in a world where you win just by being strong. Number two, you can’t close a gap in strength through petty tricks alone. 

These ideas seemingly contradict one another. The second establishes that if there’s an absolute difference in strength then strategy won’t even matter. The first establishes that strength isn’t that you can’t win a fight just by being strong. However these ideas are not opposites, they’re complementary. What they suggest is that the world is a complex place, and there’s no way one single strategy will win every possible fight. There are times when strength wins the fight, there are times when strategy is the way to go. The solution isn’t to favor one or the other, but rather to find the balance between the two. 

Before Nobara gets into her fight we’re shown a fight where Megumi has the starring role. The world view of the shaman Megumi is fighting against is important for this. 

The shaman that Megumi fights has a world view of “being strong makes me free to do whatever I want.” He believes strength to be permissive. Being strong means being competent enough to accomplish whatever you want, in any situation. 

If you want to do something, and you have the ability to do it, you should be abel to do it. That’s why it’s permissive. Strength grants permission. Getou brings up the idea in Premature Death. Gojou technically has the ability to slaughter every single human that’s not a shaman on the face of the earth. If he’s able to do it, then why can he tell Getou that it’s impossible? If the world really were as simple as Getou suggested it to be, then being strong really would be enough. Gojou would be capable of doing anything, like some kind of god. 

However, even the shaman’s own cursed technique reverses this idea of strength. Attacks that are strong around him become weak, whereas weak counters become strong. There is no idea of absolute strength. No person is going to be strong in every circumstance all the time. 

That shaman is beaten not by Megumi’s decision to face his head on, but rather by his choice to make a tactical retreat and rethink the situation after figuring out his cursed technique. Strength is not the absolute decider of everything. More than that, Megumi and Yuji were both choosing to cooperate with one another, even though cooperation was harder for both of them at this point. 

They both admit the hardest part of the fight isn’t even fighting against an enemy. That it would be easier if they were just strong enough to fight everything individually on their own, however, the fight is won by Yuji listening to Megumi, and Megumi choosing cooperation. 

This is also the exact opposite advice that Gojou gave Megumi. Megumi’s tendency is to sacrifice himself, and defer to others because he has no confidence in himself and his own individual strength. However, once again this reflects the complex nature of reality there’s no advice that applies to every single situation in the world. Gojou’s advice won the fight in Origin of Obedience, but if Megumi fought like Gojou did he would have lost this arc. 

We see Maki, and Nobara who are both characters who parallel strongly to Gojou and think they are people who can accomplish everything they want with the power of individual strength, make several critical mistakes. First, Maki doesn’t even consider the possibility Gojou could have lost. Because, Maki’s world view is the same as Gojou’s, the stronger opponent should always win. Maki is a character trying to overcome her family circumstances just by becoming the strongest possible shaman she can be to prove them wrong. 

Nobara makes a similiar mistake to Maki. We see her lose the fight because of the absolute confidence she has in her own strength, that she can win every situation by being strong enough to fight on her own. 

Rather than keeping the person she wants to protect close to her, Nobara sends her away so she can fight on her own. She assumes the weaker person will only get in her way and is safer farther away from the battle. Which is also literally the premise of Gojou’s entire fight in the subway, he goes in alone because he assumes that any other jujutsu sorcerer would only get in the way, just like the innocent civillians were there solely existing to get in the way of his techniques.

Nobara gets arrogant and refuses to analyze the other person’s jujutsu techniques and gets critically wounded. At which point we see Nobara run against the flaw of her own world view. That if she can only accomplish things with strength, then the situations where she’s weak she’s completely helpless. Nobody is strong all the time, and if she’s weak then there’s nothing she can do. If everything is decided by strength than the weak have no choice. 

2. Nobara and Gojou, Broken in the Same Way 

During Nobara’s introduction chapter Gojou says that Shaman’s have to possess a sort of craziness, to jump into battle risking life and limb like it’s nothing at all. 

While Yuji feels absolutely nothing putting his life at risk to an almost suicidal degree, I would say Nobara is the one who’s actually the closest to what Gojou describes. Just like Gojou she has the single-mindedness to believe that is she’s strong enough that she should be capable of anything. 

Nobara and Gojou assert their individualism over everything else. They don’t bend to the world, they bend the world to the way they want it. Yuji’s strong and confident in a similiar way but he always puts the wants and desires of others over himself in every situation, but Nobara is always about what she wants first and foremost. However, there are two parts to Nobara and Gojou’s world view it’s not just about strength, but also about duty. Gojou and Nobara are extremely selfish people but that doesn’t mean they don’t care about others. They see their absolute strength as an obligation to use it to protect others.

If the situation is to go all out and kill the enemy, or save the life of a person right in front of them they’ll always make the choice that spares the innocent life. They are strong, but their strength is duty bound, it’s something they tend to use for others rather than themselves. Even in Nobara’s choice to send away the aide that was with her, she was using herself as a distraction so she could get away safely. They’re selfish people, but they don’t necessarily put themselves, and their well beings over others. 

Gojou is technically able to get out of the Shibuya situation is he just massacres every human on the inside of the curtain, but he’d never make that choice. So we have Nobara and Gojou caught between the same rock and a hard place. They can’t sacrifice others, but they can’t cooperate with them either. For Gojou and Nobara the most important thing is their own individualism and their world view. 

What Nobara hates is being told she’s wrong in any way. She views her world view as absolute. What she refuses to do is revise her opinions. She can’t be wrong. She cannot accept the fact that other people might have views that contradict hers, and that multiple points of view besides her own can coexist at the same time. 

If you look at the way Nobara judges the difference between Maki and Mai. She accepts Maki because Maki is more similiar to her and she likes Maki, and refuses to accept Mai because she doesn’t really like Mai. If she doesn’t like Mai than she doesn’t even want to bother thinking about her world view. It’s a narrow minded and flawed way of thinking. Gojou and Nobara tend to push other people away from them for two reasons, one they believe they can accomplish everything they want to do alone because they have such absolute confidence in themselves, and two they think they already see everything. Gojou assumes so because he has the six eyes and perceives the infinity, and Nobara because she thinks she’s smarter than the judgemental country people she was raised around. 

Gojou and Nobara lose in a similiar way. If it’s a contest of sheer strength they’ll never lose. Gojou pulls off a miracle and activates his territory for mere seconds, and slaughters thousands of curses at once. Nobara is so crazy, she wins a game of chicken against a literal demon and is completely willing to light herself on fire and let herself burn if her opponent burns with her. They don’t lose because they’re weaker than their opponents. They both get surprised by what they didn’t know. They specifically didn’t know it because Gojou, and Nobara already assumed they knew everything. 

Gojou is blindsided by the fact that Getou’s body still exists in some form and because of that his brain completely stalls in a critical moment. Nobara loses because she doesn’t really understand the cursed technique of the person she’s fighting against so even though it might be weaker than hers she’s still overcome. 

Gojou and Nobara are both people who assume they should be able to accomplish anything with their own strength. They both have inhuman levels of strength and determination. Which is why we see they’re similiar even down to the way they move their bodies, they act and move like inhuman puppets when pushed to their absolute limits. Hunched shoulders, stiff zombie like movements, it’s a clear parallel. 

If everything in the world really was decided by strength and determination than Gojou and Nobara would never lose. Neither of them are lacking in strength, or their determination to help others. But as Gojou says towards the beginning of the manga he has the ability to just murder all the higher ups in the Jujutsu world but that won’t really change anything. Gojou and Nobara are both fundamentally unable to accept other people, and are always distancing themselves from others and trying to fight on their own. That’s why for both of them, it’s not enough for Nobara, or Gojou alone to be strong. 

#kugisaki nobara #gojou satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk meta #meta #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen theory

[thebibliomancer]

Song of the Dark Crystal liveblog pt 28

Song of the Dark Crystal by J.M. Lee because after all of that, Kylan finally has a bell-bird bone to make a super-duper magical firca out of.

Last times on book: Kylan, Naia, Tavra (stuck in a spider), and new party member Amri saved the Grottan Clan from millions of angry spiders who wanted their caves back. Also, the spiders got their caves back. Good compromise. They also trapped skekLi the Skeksis Satirist on top of a mushroom and found a bell-bird bone so Kylan can make a special flute that will help warn all Gelfling about the Skeksis drinking them. Everything is coming up Kylan, really. All he has to do now is make a magical firca he has no idea how to make and come up with a warning.

Chapter 28

Kylan makes a magic firca. And gets lethally embarrassed by Amri.

As Team Kylan is leaving the corrie, they find urVa standing watch dramatically.

The Archer’s mane danced in the wind where it was not tied back in braids and topknot, and he faced the direction of the breeze to take its scent.

The most dramatic urRu? Maybe.

Naia asks urVa if they’ll see him when they come out but he tells them no.

“I traveled this far in search of my others, little Drenchen,” he replied. “I found one, but it seems he will stay here. I must move on. We will meet again. Someday.”

“Are you all right? We fought skekMal... I was worried we would harm you as well.”

urVa shook his head. When he did, the wind blew his mane from his face, and Kylan saw a wound on his cheek and eye, in the same place where he’d struck skekMal in the Dark Wood.

“What is done is done. The suns turn.”

You’re a chill guy, urVa.

urVa gets ready to head out but asks the Gelfling that if they see any of his “urRu others” to tell them to meet him in the valley.

Huh! So the urRu are all just kind of spread out and urVa is seeking them. I think in the show’s conception of things, the urRu tended to gravitate toward the Valley anyway and the Wanderer was the Wanderer because he’s the one who stood away longest.

The Gelfling find themselves in another tunnel, although a short, well-lit one and as they go Naia muses out loud about the state of things.

“The Skeksis live together in the castle... They have power there, because of the Crystal, and because they are all in one place. The Mystics are alone. We found urVa trapped in the Cradle-Tree. urLii was in the Tomb of Relics. They had power over skekLi with their song... but only because he was outnumbered. If all the Skeksis were to overtake urVa alone, or urLii... if they all came to rescue skekLi, and only urLii was here to guard him...”

“But if the Skeksis come to get skekLi, they’ll have to defeat urLii, right?” Amri asked. He held up two fingers in parallel. “But if they defeat urLii, then won’t skekLi also be defeated? Right?”

“Either way,” Kylan put in hastily, “urLii stayed behind by his own will. He seemed confident he could contain skekLi safely. We have no choice but to trust him. We have our own journey.”

So this is something I’ve been thinking about since Aughra said what she said about how Skeksis and Mystics could counter each other.

Its very unequal! The Skeksis have a bunch of societal power, the Crystal, a sweet castle, and strength in numbers! The evil that Skeksis do is therefore a lot greater than the good that the Mystics do!

Anyway, the Mystics are pretty lucky that the Skeksis just avoid them out of sheer ‘ugh that guy!’

The Gelflings finally exit the caves and tunnels in a pretty beautiful area.

The mountains here were soft and undulating, not jagged and rocky. The air was clear, blowing flurries of leaves and sometimes white and pink petals by, and Kylan thought he heard the sound of chimes. It was beautiful and gold and green, but the scene left something to be desired. Kylan frowned deeply. Their belongings were back at the entrance to Tide Pass, including the Book of Raunip, the pearl amulet, and Tavra’s sword. The others were quiet, too. No one wanted to be the first to bring up the subject, but it was too important. They couldn’t just leave their things, not with the journey they had ahead.

But Naia sees an arrow sticking out of the ground which makes her burst out laughing.

Cool guy that urVa is, at some point he found their stuff and moved it over here for them to save them a trip. Nice!

Really streamlining this part of the narrative, urVa!

Kylan retrieves the Book of Raunip, turns to the section about Gyr’s Firca, and gets really in the zone!

He forgets all the terrors and troubles of the past couple days, all the worries and wounds accumulated, and even forgets his cool friends as they give him space and quiet to work in.

All he saw were the sketches of the firca and the hope it had to offer. It was like every other firca he’d ever seen or played, with one mouthpiece, which split into a fork. The pipes on either end of the fork were carved with three finger holes, one for each finger when held properly in two hands. Firca were made out of many materials, each with a slightly different voice. Most were carved from a single piece of wood, though many were made from forced reeds. The Sifa were known to make theirs from the prongs of welhorn shells, and their firca’s voices came with the ghostly roars of ocean waves. The firca was the most common Gelfling instrument, and perhaps one of the simplest, yet the many materials used in its creation also made it one of the most varied. It could play single notes as well as harmonies, while still being small enough to dangle around one’s neck.

That’s so many firca in one segment.

I’m glad that we’re getting background on the importance of the firca to Gelfling culture but its a bit funny to me that its coming at the very end of the story after all this journeying to find a special firca. Although it makes sense for it to happen now because Kylan has the bone and he’s pondering the enormity of the task.

The bell-bird bone is already forked and a little bigger than your av-er-age wooden firca. Kylan feels lucky that Amri found the Last Bell-Bird Bone in the entire mountain and that it happened to be the correct shape and not broken.

A single bone could have been used to make a flute but Kylan decides that a single flute wouldn’t have had the same impact, remembering joining urVa and urLii’s song.

No, a pipe or flute would not have been the same. The firca was special. It could play two notes at once, leaving room for a third. What that third voice was, Kylan didn’t know, but he felt instinctively that it had to do with the legend of the bell-bird. The birds that sang and the mountains sang back. Perhaps, if the bell-birds sang with two notes, it was Thra itself that sang the third part. Perhaps the firca was so valued by the Gelfling because it left a place for the very voice of Thra.

Rule of Three: the planet.

Kylan doesn’t even have any tools to sand the bone or carve the holes but he knows that if he doesn’t make the firca now, he’ll lose his courage to even try. What with it being an irreplaceable only bone left in existence.

SO HE USES DREAM-ETCHING

My god, it just keeps getting more and more versatile a skill!

It was established that dream-etching put out a lot of heat since it basically just burns things into surfaces. So Kylan just focuses the heat of dream-etching onto the surface of his thumb and rubs the jagged edge where the bone broke and he just sands it smooth with dream-etching heat!

Amazing!

The vibration of the etching heat made the bone sing in a high, resonant key.

Also, amazing.

Kylan takes all afternoon and until Naia returns with dinner.

Naia looked over his shoulder, and he opened his hands. Lying in his lap was a white firca, sculpted and smoothed to the finest detail. He hardly remembered making it, or at least, he recalled none of the moments. As his head cleared from the focus, he realized he had gone into a kind of trance. His fingers were blistered and sore, but the product of his dedication was perfect, as if he had transformed the bell-bird bone into the instrument it had always been meant to be.

Naia declares it beautiful and Tavra agrees, adding that she wished she still had Gelfling ears so she could hear him play. Because when he played the bone, it sent her flopping to the floor.

Kylan apologizes again for turning her into a spider but she’s having nothing of it.

“If you hadn’t, I would be dead. And I would not have had the chance to see the two of you succeed as you have. For this, I am only grateful... Stop berating yourself for doing the things your heart calls you to do.”

You’re a good, Tavra.

Amri cooks dinner and puts one of his alchemical pastes on the fish Naia caught which causes Naia and Kylan a Concern but it turns out enjoyable.

Kylan hangs the bone firca around his neck because after going through this whole Song of the Dark Crystal book to get it, its his most precious possession and he’s not letting it out of his grasp.

While they eat, Naia suddenly remembers that note Kylan gave Tavra and then Amri and asks what was in it. Hey, tying up that loose end!

Kylan tries to say that hey that loose end doesn’t matter lets forget about it! but Amri saved the note and he pulls it out and dodges Kylan’s attempt to stop him from reading it.

“Dear Tavra,” he began to read. Kylan interrupted in a hurry, hoping to drown out Amri’s reading.

“I guessed that whatever was controlling Tavra couldn’t read. That it couldn’t read the note on the rock wall, so it had the spiders try to conceal the message -”

“... I write to you on behalf of Naia, and Gurjin, and those others whom you have helped since leaving Ha’rar on an errand for the All-Maudra...”

“- I had to test it, so I used -”

“I know it must be very difficult for you, having been betrayed by the Skeksis in the most painful ways. I wanted to let you know that we all care for you and that, should you need us...”

“So I used what I had on hand...”

But there was no stopping Amri, so Kylan put his face in his hands and waited for it to end. Amri stood before Tavra, Naia, and all the stars and moons above, reading for all to hear:

“... simply call on us. For especially I admire your courage and your loyalty to all that is good and right, and even if I’m unable to put these sentiments into words to say to you directly, I wanted at least to give to you this promise in words that stay. Your friend, Kylan.”

Oh my gooooooooood, the boy really did it! He wrote his feelings in a letter so he wouldn’t stumble over his words! This precious bean! This poor, mortified Gelf! Everyone’s grinning at him!

Naia is saying that she’d learn to read just so she could read it if Kylan ever wrote her anything “sticky-sweet” like that.

This poor boy!

Kylan justifies that after he saw “Tavra” talking with a Skeksis he needed to be sure whether it was Tavra or not so he gave her this letter that he’d prepared ahead of time. It’s such a personal note that if it were Tavra and she could read, she’d definitely react to it.

Tavra finally pipes up, after sitting silently as poor Kylan was mortified to death, to agree that it was a clever plan.

I’m thinking that she didn’t want to pile on so she just stuck with the narrative Kylan is trying to emphasize.

Despite his conviction that she would have reacted to his letter had she been able to decipher it at the time, the All-Maudra’s daughter showed no reaction now. Kylan wasn’t sure which he preferred.

This poor boy!

And when Kylan fished the letter out of the fire and gave it to Amri, he knew something was up because no way would a Vapran princess be illiterate.

The topic changes to Kylan’s relief, so he brings up his ideas for the Big Message that this whole quest has been about.

He’s been thinking a lot about it. They can’t just use a normal message because Skeksis can read Gelfing but not all Gelfling can read Gelfling. How vexing. But urLii reminded him of dream-stitching in the Tomb of Relics.

So his idea is to dream-stitch the message into some innocuous symbol that the Skeksis won’t notice but a Gelfling will get a dream-fast when they touch it.

And since he accidentally dream-stitched “the dream of her mind to the spider’s body” he’s prettyyyyy sure he can do it.

“I will deliver the message that begins our fight against the Skeksis.”

Heck yeah, Kylan!

So with that so declared and the final chapter of this book setup, the party sleeps under the stars. Although Kylan has trouble sleeping because there’s so much anticipation for the following day.

A blade of grass moved to the side near his cheek. It was the only sign that Tavra had joined him, silently picking her way across the tips of the grass as he might hop along the pathway stones in Sami Thicket. She said nothing, balancing on the stalk of a grassflower like a tiny, delicate acrobat.

He waited for her to speak, but she didn’t. There was simply a shared quiet - an acceptance - and then she left, not one word spoken.

When I first read this bit, I got so mad. I thought Tavra was going to leave the group, just vanish in the night because spider and so Kylan could play the bone firca without worrying about the effect on her. I was like TAVRA C’MON WE KEEP LOSING PARTY MEMBERS!

But on another pass, I think this is Tavra accepting his letter and his sentiments.

Aww, friends.

#dark crystal #Song of the Dark Crystal #the dark crystal #liveblog #Kylan #Naia #Amri #Tavra #urVa #the Archer #a lot of feelings in this one #it was a bit of a longer one so it took longer

[fuwafuwamedb]

The King’s Dumu Lugal Pt 10 (CasGil, Hakuno, Siduri, CasCu)

Previously: One, Two, Three, Four, Five , Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

____

Ur liked watching him work.

Each time the sharpened scalpel like writing instrument chiseled away another bit of Cuneiform, Gilgamesh found that his son would reach out. Perhaps he wanted to write his own letters to the people. Maybe he simply wanted to stick the writing instrument into his mouth and chew on it. Whatever the case was, Gilgamesh found himself signing the documents for two.

King Gilgamesh and First Prince Ur-Nungal.

The first time the words had been inscribed upon one of the tablets, he had needed to take a moment. He needed to admire the look of it.

First prince.

It offered so many meanings. Perhaps there would be a first princess, a second prince, a whole collection of children. If there were children, then that meant that there was a blushing and prideful bride, one of whom he had bore so many children with.

There would be a great deal of celebrating going on in Uruk as these tablets were read aloud.

The great king had a son. The first prince was alive and he was with his father, writing to them of all the universe.

Siduri would weep.

His mother would be beside herself in need of seeing her grandson.

“Abum!”

“Is there something wrong?” Gilgamesh glanced down once more, finding his son pouting.

“Ah~! Ah!”

“This has a sharp end. Your mother would have my head if she saw me allow you to use this.” The woman gave him cloth made toys mostly. He had no doubt in his mind that even a slightly blunt object would be met with outrage from his precious wife.

Wife… That word gave him pause.

Hakuno had never agreed to be his wife, not fully. There were no vows, no confession and pledges of eternal loyalty. Their son was their bond, but she still shied away from him. The fact that there were so few things tying his woman to his side left a great deal to be concerned with. Perhaps that had been what had bothered her this morning.

He and his son moved to the living room area as Ur needed to have himself changed and cleaned up. His son settled amongst his toys and blankets, happily beginning to wave the toys around as Gilgamesh sent off his tablets into the Gates of Babylon and off to Uruk. A collection of new tablets came in their place, leaving him to begin reading.

There was no such thing as a domestic life for Hakuno. She had no simple time where she could lounge with their son properly and lose track of time. Each second that she was here, she was on a clock with the Chaldeans. She would be running errands or bringing him food or tending to those who had been injured. There was always something around the corner that the woman needed to worry about and the fact that she had to spend so much time fretting about the next task that she had coming left there little time for his son to get proper attention.

“Abum!”

His tablets were abandoned, his attention returning to the boy entirely. His mouth pressed to his son’s belly, blowing raspberries- or rather, loud lip wagging noises into his son’s belly- resulting in an eruption of giggles and squeals.

The priceless first prince, Ur-Nungal was going to be spoiled to the very tips of his toes when he was able to go to Uruk. If not by the people, then by Siduri alone.

He could hardly forget when Siduri’s husband had passed, leaving her all alone in the world. She had wanted kids, opting for hounding him to give her princes and princesses to spoil instead.

“Oh oh.”

Gil glanced down, noting his son’s pause.

Following that attention, he laughed.

The toy that had been nearby had ripped. It seemed his son’s strength was far greater than the typical child’s. Not only had the toy ripped, cotton had come flying out, decorating the floor.

“…It would seem that you killed it.”

Ur’s face scrunched. He could see those eyes turn to him, the wobbling lower lip and the scrunched eyes giving warning just before he found his son’s piercing wail echoing in the living room.

“Shhhhh,” Gilgamesh lifted the boy, attempting to hand him any other toy in the room. There had to be another to his liking. The sheer number alone made it evident that there were other favorites. He tried the ones that were clearly made by Hakuno. He tried some of the ones from his youth. He tried the blanket. He tried the strange stopper for his son’s mouth. Any and everything he had available was attempted.

The wails continued.

While he could repair a small seam, he could not fix this toy.

Did they have someone here at Chaldea that could fix this thing? Perhaps that vampire fellow, but didn’t he drink blood or some such nonsense? That wouldn’t do. He needed to watch Ur but the toy…

Siduri could fix it.

If he sent the toy through the gates, it would come back tomorrow with new tablets, but… that would not help with the interim. His son was still wailing his lungs out and his voice would soon grow hoarse. Perhaps…

Well, perhaps a small visit.

He could go to the rayshift, shift over with his son and the toy, present the toy for repairs, and then come back. Hakuno was clearly occupied with her own work-

Hakuno had made the toy.

It would stand to reason that-

Ur was still wailing.

While Hakuno could fix it, he could use the opportunity in Uruk as a chance to get a crib for their son and to check in on Uruk. His son was meant to be in Uruk anyway. An hour in Uruk would not hurt anything. If anything, his son would appreciate being home.

He changed Ur into robes more fitting for this trip, wiping at tears and attempting here and there to get his son to cease his tears.

They hurried to the command room, grabbing that foolish Caster, Cu Chulainn, on their way.

The man was only too happy to remove the loudest, most abhorring sound in all of Chaldea from the premises. He promised to remain until called upon to bring them back as well.

Uruk formed around him and his son a moment later.

He stood just at the foot of the stairs to his palace, looking up at the glory that was his kingdom. Frozen in the midst of a singularity and moment in time, the kingdom was no longer fully functioning in the span of time, but the people and the problems and benefits of this world were still going. Like gears still turning in a clock with no hands, Uruk worked evermore.

The wailing of his son was garnering the attention of those around him. Giving a proud smile, Gilgamesh held up his son.

“My son has a broken toy.”

The response was immediate. The cheers and the excitement of those around the palace plaza had others escaping their homes and leaving their vending. All were coming forth to see the crying child, cooing and cheering the young boy so much that the tears were paused.

This was new, after all.

A child who had seen no more than two, perhaps three adults at one time was now seeing a mob. The boy’s red eyes blinked up at them all, his hands being lightly touched only for him to burst into a smile. He had his mother’s smile.

“King Gilgamesh!”

Gilgamesh glanced back, seeing the rush of green fabrics coming down the stairs. The veil and the hood were falling from her person, fluttering away in the wind as her brown hair came loose. She didn’t pay it a single mind. He could see it already, the desperation, the need to see her closest acquaintance’s son. Siduri didn’t pause a bit as she pushed her way around the people and came to his side.

Her hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes growing to the size of moons.

“M-m-my k-k-k-king!”

“Would you like to hold him?”

Siduri fell to her knees. The sight of tears brimming those eyes was worth a thousand wails from his son. He couldn’t help the chuckle that came, moving to his own knees as well so he could safely place his son in his attendant’s arms.

Her dark eyes met Ur’s gentle gaze, the tears were falling heavily.

“…My king…. My king, he’s the most beautiful baby boy that I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Ur reached up, his hand pressing to her cheek. He was wiping at her tears, Gil found, that patient gaze bringing forth only more rivers down his poor attendant’s cheeks.

“Continue about your day,” Gilgamesh bid his people. “My queen will come soon enough. She is away still, but I felt I needed to bring my son out. He should know his people.”

A few more pats came to his back, but the people were smiling as well to Siduri.

“You are beautiful,” Siduri murmured. “You are the most beautiful little man. You will end up making your father green with envy over you.”

“Don’t spoil him too much.”

The woman waved him off with a warning look, as though she were a rank higher than she was.

“Siduri, we did not come to be indulged today. We came because of this.” He held out the toy from his gates, showing it to the woman.

“What is it?”

“A toy. Apparently, my son’s only favorite amongst his collection.”

Ur was already looking at it, his eyes beginning to brim with tears again as he caught sight of the tear. When Siduri held it, his son emitted another sob, beginning to shake.

“I have some sewing supplies in my chambers,” Siduri told him. “I would be honored to repair it.”

“I also have need of a small cradle for my son. He’s too young to do much meandering, but my bed is feeling rather full with both him and my Hakuno.”

“Hakuno?”

“My queen.”

Siduri nodded, once more alight with excitement. “I cannot wait to see her, my king. She must be ill if she is not with you today.”

“Let’s not take long.”

Ur was returned, although he did note that Siduri seemed reluctant to let him go from her arms. Her gaze drifted over that face, a small and adoring smile fixed into place upon her lips.

Then they were hurrying. Up the stairs, pausing at the doors so that the guards could enjoy the sight that was his son, then into the palace. His son looked around in fascination, his hands reaching for everything. He squirmed and twisted, making sounds and saying abum more times than was needed.

“We’ll be in the audience chamber,” Gilgamesh told her simply.

He had to let Ur down.

His son caught sight of the lions and a squeal erupted from him. The moment that Gilgamesh had him on his feet, he was waddling, his arms grabbing the nearest beast and hugging it.

Another one of the lions nipped the back of his robes, pulling him onto their front paws and beginning to lick his hair.

“KISCHIES!”

Ah, but he did have kitties, didn’t he?

Gilgamesh found himself smirking, settling upon his throne and watching his son pet the various lions around him and be licked into a tussled state. His mother would no doubt have been panicking, worried over such beasts…

But then again the sphinxes were far larger. He had his doubts.

The servants came to see, as did his advisors. More of the guards who were switching rotations much faster today were rushing into the audience chamber. They would near the boy, but, with him around his lions, they could do no more than admire and coo to him. His son merely glanced their way, motioning and telling them ‘kischies’.

A boy so much like himself, they drawled, admiring him to their fullest.

It was a good thing that Hakuno cared and devoted so much time to their son, introducing him to the Chaldeans.

Sitting in his audience chamber and watching his son being admired like a new statue was a good reminder that there were few that would not be intimidated by his son’s stature. Many would hear prince and become fearful, deciding against playing with him or, even worse, opting to try to leave a bad impression of him in other’s minds. There were the dangers of manipulation of the boy’s developing mind. There were dangers of him becoming overly indulgent upon the servants.

Later on, once their time here was completed, he would have to inquire with Hakuno about her child-rearing strategy.

“My king!”

Siduri waved the toy in her hands, drawing the immediate attention of Ur.

“Ah!”

One of the lions was going for his arm as Ur climbed hurriedly to his feet. The boy was starting to waddle towards Siduri. He wouldn’t-

The boy turned, raising a hand and blasting the lion back with a burst of unfocused mana. The lion rolled back, hitting one of the potted plants before Ur was turning to Siduri and trying to rush over to her.

He stumbled, just short, being caught only by the fearful and awed attendant.

“Ah!” Ur grabbed his toy from the woman’s hand, letting himself lean against Siduri’s embrace. The boy’s mouth pressed to the cloth, echoing a series of kisses he’d seen Hakuno give her son.

His son did magecraft.

Effectively, he noted, seeing the lion slowly sit up and try to gather its bearings. The other lions were settling in, their eyes watching Ur more warily now.

He would not be stopped, they knew. What they had received had been an effective warning not to keep him tempered.

“King Gilgamesh,” Siduri looked over at him, her eyes still wide from what had transpired.

A small chuckle escaped him.

The small chuckle grew into a quiet laugh.

The quiet laugh grew louder, his head falling back a little as he flew to his feet.

“Siduri! My son is immaculate!”

The woman nodded, agreeing no doubt because the boy had proven himself at under a year to be more effective at magecraft than the apsu were upon entrance into their studies into the practices of healing. None of them would have been able to create such a blast against his lions. None, but his son could.

The child of a mage and a mage king.

Ur-Nungal would be a grand caster. He would be a grand mage, far surpassing Gudako herself when he was to his adulthood.

He scooped his son up, proud to see those red eyes turn to him and the title of abum come forth as his son proudly called him father once more. The sense of excitement and adrenaline, of the need to show his son to every single man, woman, and child in this kingdom ran thick through his veins. There would be time for such things. In time, he would have everything he wanted.

“The cradle is in the process of being built,” Siduri told him.

“Leave it in my chambers. I will retrieve it for my other chambers in due time.” He pulled the communication device from his pocket. “Ur and I must return before my woman worries.”

“She doesn’t know?”

“Is that a problem?”

Siduri laughed, the sound music to his ears. “My king, if she is like any mother, she will no doubt be livid that you did not give her the opportunity to let her see everyone admire her baby boy just as you were given the opportunity to do today. I’ll have some butter cake left in the cradle for her. I’m sure she must wish to indulge in some sweets.”

“Thank you, Siduri.”

“It is my job and my honor to do so.” Her smile was only brighter as she looked to his son. “…I knew you would have a beautiful baby, my king. I really hope you bring your Hakuno and him back quickly. I want to be able to help teach him words.”

He pat her head gently before connecting with Cu Caster.

The palace vanished, leaving his son and him standing once more in the rayshift.

“She’s right you know,” Cu spoke up form the control room. “Hakuno’s going to be pissed when she finds out you were toting that little guy into a singularity.”

“It is an old singularity and there were no threats.”

The celt snorted. “Right. So you weren’t panicking there when the lion was going after him?”

“Don’t tell Hakuno about that.”

“King, I didn’t even know Hakuno had a brat until you came yanking me from my afternoon of runes to sit around and watch your dumb ass go presenting your son like a trophy through your kingdom. Beats hearin’ him cry though.” The man leaned in, smiling away at Ur. “You’re damned cute though. Must get it from your mom-AH!”

Ur pinched his nose.

“That’s my boy,” Gil praised, watching the Celt shift back and rub at the spot.

“His fingers are like pinchers.”

“He’s quite a strong mage.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

That earned him a smack.

Ur giggled at the sight, his arms waving in the air a moment before he almost dropped the toy he had.

They returned to Hakuno’s chambers a few minutes before the woman came in herself. From head to foot, there was dirt, splotched and coating her hair and clothes. He held himself back from any kind of embrace, opting instead to hold Ur. 

“There was a problem with some piping downstairs. There was a lot of dirt from the mountainside that got in.” She shivered as she motioned towards the bathroom. ”I’m going to clean up and then we can start thinking about dinner. Was Ur good?”

“Ur was fine,” Gil replied, watching the woman slowly undressing. “We enjoyed the many tasks of being a king today.”

#drabble #drabbles

[anistarrose]

Fateful Detours - Ch. 2 (Gravity Falls x Infinity Train)

Summary: Stan and Ford have a rocky reunion, and Ford invokes the wrath of a scheming new enemy.

Warnings: description of a car accident (no injuries)

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331070/chapters/48370201

(The Beginning) (The End)

Part two of three has arrived! And don’t get me wrong, I’m quite satisfied with the first chapter, but this one was much more exciting to write :)

***

(12 hours earlier, below a stormy afternoon sky in northwestern New Jersey…)

Stan anxiously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, checking his mirrors for cops. No one appeared to be tailing him.

Maybe the angry mob had been so hellbent on getting revenge in person that they hadn’t bothered to call the police, or maybe the police hadn’t thought a petty con artist was worth their time, but one thing was for sure — this was the fourth town Stan had gotten run out of this month, which meant that one way or another, staying in New Jersey any longer would surely just get him into even more trouble.

There was only one issue: as much as Stan once liked to brag about how he was going to sail away from that godforsaken state one day, he missed New Jersey.

Or, more accurately, he missed the childhood he’d spent there. He missed Ford.

“You cut that out,” he told himself, shoving the train of thought to the back of his mind. “You think Stanford would care that I feel homesick? He doesn’t deserve to be missed.”

His train of thought refused to go quietly, instead jumping straight off its rails. But you do miss him. That’s why you’re taking the longest possible detour out of Jersey, instead of just heading straight to Pennsylvania.

“Shut UP, Stanley!” Stan shouted, smacking his forehead, and the moment his concentration on driving wavered, his car went careening off the highway. He slammed on the brakes, but there was no traction on the muddy downhill slope, and the Stanleymobile kept sliding until a mighty oak tree intercepted it with a sickening crunch.

For a solid minute, Stan just sat with his head buried in his hands, afraid to even look at the damage. It was the passenger door area that had collided with the tree, so Stan himself had escaped any serious injury, but he didn’t know if the Stanleymobile — his only friend in the world, it felt like — would still be drivable.

Finally, he stepped outside in the rain, trudging through the mud without a single spark of optimism as he made his way around the El Diablo. One look at the front left wheel, pointing an angle it definitely wasn’t supposed to, told him everything he needed to know about whether the car could be salvaged.

He felt like crying, and had he been left alone like that for just one moment longer — his one possession of value wrecked in front of him, his already ruined life reduced to even more pathetic shambles than before — he indeed might have broken down and sobbed. But he was interrupted by a flash of light from the woods, and then another, and then countless more, until the flashing stopped and a constant, brilliant green glow was beaming out from between the trees. Beckoning him.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, but his hands were already opening the backseat door and pulling out the duffel bag that contained all his belongings. His feet were already guiding him into the woods, towards the source of the light…

It was a train, come to a stop right there in the middle of nowhere, advertising its destination of Pennsylvania in bright green letters.

And Stan, under normal circumstances, was not an especially trusting person. But today, for some reason — maybe out of sheer bewildered curiosity, maybe because of some sinister spell the train had cast over him, or maybe just because he had nothing left to lose — he found himself throwing caution to the wind, and stepping aboard.

***

Needless to say, when Ford barged into the rock-climbing car and shouted “What are you doing here?!” all angry and accusatory, Stan told an abbreviated version of the earlier events.

“Got in a wreck, needed a new ride, jumped on the train. Didn’t expect it to kidnap me into a wasteland full of cockroaches that try to suck my soul out if I leave.” His words came out blunt and flat, devoid of a whole flood of conflicting emotions that he struggled to hold back.

“You got off the train?!” Ford didn’t look worried about the state of Stan’s soul. If anything, he seemed incredulous at the notion that Stan would want to leave.

“Of course! Do I look like I want to be trapped in some — some sick experiment, or whatever this thing is? I wouldn’t recommend getting off, though — I kinda almost died.”

Please, Stan thought, please say something that proves you’d care if I did die —

Instead, Ford just stared down at Stan’s crossed arms. “Do you have a number?” he asked, as if that was a perfectly reasonable response to one’s estranged twin talking about their near-death experiences.

“Oh, have you already cracked the code? Have you figured out what the numbers mean using your fancy college brain?” Stan’s attempt to stay detached was breaking down more and more with each retort. “Yeah, I’ve got one, it’s —”

He held out his hand, then blinked in confusion. So did Ford.

“Wait, 153?” Stan asked. “It was 147 just a couple minutes ago! It’s been 147 the whole time I was here!”

“It’s lower than mine?” Ford muttered, narrowing his eyes. “Well, that certainly calls for some adjustments to my hypothesis…”

“So you don’t know what it means?”

“I’ve only been on this train for a matter of hours!” Ford shot back defensively. “I simply don’t have enough data points to conclude anything with any sort of confidence!”

As he waved his hands in the air, Stan caught a glimpse of his number — 163. So Ford was ten points ahead of him… or could it be ten points behind?

“But I will solve this,” Ford continued as he headed for the door on the opposite side of the room. “I’m sure one of the next few cars will provide some clues about —”

“Yeah, good luck with that door,” Stan interrupted. “The only key’s up at the top of that cliff.”

Ford tried to turn the handle, without success, and turned around to squint towards the roof of the car. “Ah. So it is.” He eyed the pulley system. “You couldn’t get up there on your own?”

“Look, there’s not a lot of handholds, okay? I’d like to see you do better.”

“Sure.” Ford picked up a harness lying on the ground, and gestured towards the pulley system. “That’s a manual pulley, right? With two of us here, that’ll make the climb simple.”

“Yeah, but why I am I the one who has to pull you?”

“Because I’m lighter, and you have more upper-body strength?” Ford told him. “I thought that would be obvious.”

Truth be told, Stan didn’t exactly want to attempt the climb again… but as petty as it was, he didn’t want Ford to be the one who arrived and immediately saved the day. Ford was always the irreplaceable one, the star of the show, while it felt like Stan was just the opposite — the twin who failed at anything he attempted on his own, and only got anywhere by riding on someone else’s coattails.

He begrudgingly took ahold of the rope as Ford adjusted his climbing harness. “Okay, am I just holding on to make sure you don’t fall, or am I gonna have to lift you the whole way up?”

“I can support my own weight, for the most part,” Ford replied as he began to climb.

“You’re gonna want to move a few feet to the left,” Stan suggested. “You’re not going to get anywhere near the key if you climb straight up from there.”

“Really?” Ford craned his neck, trying to get a better view.

“Yes, really. Trust me, I can actually see the key without looking like an owl trying to turn its head around but failing because it had a broken neck.”

Ford reluctantly did as he was told, and the first three-fourths of the climb passed quickly and without much difficulty. But when he was just a few feet short of the key, Ford slowed to a halt, awkwardly glancing down at Stan.

“You… you were right, there’s not a whole lot of handholds or footholds up here.”

“Do you want me to pull you the rest of the way?”

“I don’t know… give me a second to try again here…”

“You better make up your mind soon, or my arms will get too tired to even get you down safely.”

“Alright, sure. Lift me the rest of the — woah!”

Stan pulled on the rope with all his strength, and Ford rapidly ascended past the rest of the climb. He pulled the key out of its slot at the top of the cliff, and let go of the rock wall altogether as Stan lowered him to the ground.

“That’s all?”

“Well, I only saw one keyhole in the door.”

There was an awkward silence, as Ford undid his harness and walked towards the exit with Stan trailing a bit behind him. As little as a few months ago, a moment like this would’ve surely been accompanied by a victory chant, or a high-six, or something, but now all they had was… a quiet tolerance of each other, and it felt unrealistic to hope for anything more.

We’re both heading in the same direction, Stan realized. What now?

Maybe this quiet tolerance wasn’t so bad, if it meant he wouldn’t be alone.

“Hey, Sixer?” Stan asked as Ford opened the door, and Ford whirled around to look at him — not quite angry, but certainly confused.

This was a bad idea. Why did I have to bring it up? I probably could’ve kept following him, and he wouldn’t have said anything.

“I was just, uh, wondering… I told you my story, but how did you get on the train?”

Ford’s brow furrowed, his look of owlish confusion morphing into a scowl. “I missed my bus.”

“Why?” Stan blurted out, and immediately regretted it when he saw Ford’s expression darken even more.

“I took an ill-advised detour,” Ford explained, speaking in that verbose, detached way that he only really did when he was upset, “that I didn’t have time for. I had a moment of… nostalgia, and wanted to check up on our old project before I left town…”

Staring off into space with a distant look in his eyes, Ford didn’t seem to notice it, but the number on his hand dropped from 163 to 159.

“The Stan O’ War?” Stan asked. “You’re still working on it?”

Ford snapped back to reality, his wistful expression immediately vanishing. “Of course not. I wish I’d never even checked up on it in the first place.”

“Right,” Stan muttered. “Why would I expect anything different from you.”

Ford hurled the key to the ground, near Stan’s feet. “Sailing around the world was never going to happen, and we both should’ve known it!” he shouted. “You know what? I wouldn’t even be stuck on this goddamn train, if only we’d never gotten that ridiculous idea in our heads! Or, if only you hadn’t sabotaged my chances at getting a scholarship to any school other than fucking Backupsmore!”

He whirled around, slamming the door in Stan’s face as he bolted for the next car. Stan tried to follow, but found that the door had locked again, and wasted a few moments fumbling around for the key on the floor. By the time he got to the next car, he could see Ford standing on a raised platform near the opposite door, having already navigated the maze beneath him.

He locked eyes with Stan, no doubt expecting a plea for help. Expecting Stan to beg not to be left behind. (Again.)

But Stan realized — he didn’t want to give Ford the satisfaction of being correct. (Again.)

I can solve puzzles on my own. I can scale cliffs on my own. I’ll get off this train on my own, and then we’ll see who the dumb twin really is.

“I said it before, and I’ll say it again,” he growled. “I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”

Even though the words came out of his own mouth, they still stung like a slap across the face.

For one single second, Ford looked caught off guard, but then he turned on his heel and left the room. Before the door even slammed shut, Stan’s hand began to flicker green as his number jumped up once again.

169

***

“I can’t believe I thought this place wasn’t half-bad,” Ford muttered to himself, cranking a lever that lowered a drawbridge into place and opened a path to the car’s exit. His hands were slightly greasy from slotting a dislodged gear back into place, and as he wiped them off, he noticed that his number was rising, passing 166 and going higher than he’d ever seen it.

He took note of the changes in a journal, and headed for the exit. In other circumstances, he might’ve wanted to stay a little longer and study the bridge mechanism, maybe even do a few sketches, but right now his heart wasn’t in it he just wanted to get off the damn train as soon as possible, which meant there was little to no time available for unrelated mysteries.

But as dejected eager to move on as he was, he couldn’t help but find himself captivated by the contents of the next car. Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined every wall, holding carefully organized books, strange knickknacks, and a surprising number of yarn balls…

“Ahem,” began a voice from the shadows, interrupting his train of thought, “but did you not even think to knock? Have you no manners?”

The car’s resident slunk out from behind a table — a graceful cream-colored cat, dressed in a sharp navy blue suit and golden silk ascot. “Passengers these days, I swear…”

Ford ignored her, eyes glued to table’s contents. One compact device lit up as he approached it, displaying a waveform that oscillated in time with his footsteps, and he picked it up, snapping his fingers experimentally. One again, the display responded.

“You put that down!” the cat hissed. “My collection is more valuable than you could possibly imagine —”

“Oh, I’m sure it is. I’m so sorry,” Ford hurriedly apologized, lowering the device back down to the tabletop but still holding it between two of his fingers. Recalling childhood adventures in petty crime, he sought to create a distraction with his free hand, reaching for an astrolabe that sat on a nearby shelf. “What’s this? Is it decorative, or —”

“Don’t touch that either!” the cat yowled, springing up on to the shelf to snatch the astrolabe away. As she moved, Ford palmed the smaller device and slipped it into the pocket of his pants, and couldn’t help but smirk as the cat failed to notice.

“Okay, okay, I get the message. Is there anything in this room I can touch?”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of things in the next train car!” the cat hissed. “So go on, make yourself scarce!”

“But your whole collection is so interesting…” Ford replied, looking over the room and assessing which other items he might be able to sneak into his pockets for further study. “Won’t you at least tell me where you found all this?”

The cat blinked twice, and then the corners of the her mouth curled into a smile. “Oh, I can do better than that. I think I know just the thing that will interest you, Mister… what was your name? I don’t think you ever introduced yourself.”

“I’m Ford Pines, pleased to meet you. I didn’t catch your name either…?”

“I’m the Cat,” the Cat told him as she bounded from shelf to shelf. As she rifled through a stack of objects resembling sleek black cassette tapes, she still looked up to glance at Ford every few seconds, as if she still didn’t trust him not to touch her possessions.

“Now let’s see… ah, this edition should suit our purposes well. Just take a seat by the television, and I’ll get this documentary started!”

“What’s it about?” Ford asked, settling into the chair. “Any specific artifact or device in particular, or just a general overview? Did you produce and narrate it yourself?”

“Oh, I don’t want to give away the surprise,” the Cat told him as she inserted the tape, “but I promise, once it gets started, you won’t be able to look away.”

She pressed the play button, and Ford’s mind was filled with static.

***

In any other scenario, the Cat would have at that point taken a few moments to simply stare approvingly at her completed trap, but not five seconds after the television had turned on, the door to her car swung open again.

It took Stan’s eyes another second or two to fully adjust to the dimmer lighting, but not nearly that long for him to realize something was very wrong.

“What the fuck?” He bolted past the startled Cat, shaking Ford’s limp body by the shoulders. Some instinct told him not to look at the TV, so he locked eyes with Ford instead — with Ford’s wide open, yet glazed-over eyes that didn’t show a single spark of awareness.

“Ford, can you here me?” No response.

“Ford, I know you’re mad, but this isn’t funny!” Complete silence, aside from static crackling in the background.

“What did you do to him?” Stan whirled towards the Cat, who grinned sheepishly while slowly backing away. “What did you do to my brother?!”

“Oh, I just… introduced him to a meditative exercise! He was very excited to try it, you see, and requested that I not let anyone interrupt him —”

“Bullshit,” Stan growled. “I know a scam artist when I see one! What did you really do to him?!”

“He messed with my things and refused to leave me in peace!” the Cat hissed. “He had it coming!”

“Messed with your things, huh?” In one fluid motion, Stan snatched a ball of yarn of a shelf with one hand and pulled out a pocket lighter with the other, flicking the wheel a few times before a bright blue flame spluttered to life. “Tell me how to get him back, or I light this baby up and toss it at a bookshelf.”

The Cat gasped when he pulled out the lighter, but then unsheathed her claws and sneered defiantly. “If you’re both on this train, but traveling separately… well, his number’s already sky-high and only getting higher. He doesn’t want anything to do with you ever again, does he?”

Stan flinched, and the Cat smiled. “I assumed as much. You poor thing — all you want is to ‘get your brother back,’ but it’s already doomed to be a hopeless endeavour.”

Stan glanced back at Ford, slumped over in the chair and looking about as alive as a corpse.

“Maybe it is hopeless,” he admitted. “Maybe he never will forgive me. But if I left him here like this, I’d… I’d never forgive myself. I could lie to myself about it for as long as I wanted, I could remind myself how he wouldn’t do the same for me, but — but that wouldn’t make me feel any less terrible. He’s my brother, and I’m going to save him, because… because that’s just who I am.”

He unwound a strand of yarn, and dangled it over the lighter flame. Blue sparks traveled up the off-white string like a fuse, racing to engulf the entire yarn ball.

“And I’m also a person who meant what I said about burning everything in here. So for the last time, I’m asking you: HOW DO I SAVE MY BROTHER?”

“Playing on that television is a record of everything that makes him him,” the Cat explained. “If you look at the screen, you’ll join him inside those memories, but I can’t promise he’ll want to come back out with you. In fact, I’d bet against it.”

“I don’t care what you’d bet on.” Stan blew out the flame, and hurled the extinguished yarn ball at the wall. The Cat narrowly dodged the rebound, hissing as she ducked out of the way.

“Don’t worry, Ford,” Stan whispered. “I’m coming.”

***

(End notes:

Being with yellow eyes and fancy outfit: *exists* Ford: well, they couldn’t possibly have any ulterior motives!

Anyways, thank you for reading and as always, feedback/reblogs are appreciated! The third and final chapter should go up in early September, if everything goes according to plan.)

#gravity falls #infinity train #stanley pines #stanford pines #infinity train cat #infinity train spoilers #fic: fateful detours #rosalia writes fic

[mf-despair-queen]

Jigsaw Pieces - Chapter 4 - Mitch Rapp

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 4,715

Summary: Mitch has changed since the in Ibiza. After some fearful words, Mitch disappears without notice. She’s determined to find him - no matter the cost.

Warnings: None Really?

Notes: JUST LET ME POST ALREADY TUMBLR. JFC

Eighteen Months Later…

Mitch changed.

After spending countless weeks in the hospital for his injuries, he was forced to undergo physical and mental rehabilitation. You couldn’t count how many times the doctors had called because he had awoken in the middle of the night screaming at the tops of his lungs from the trauma on the beach. You couldn’t count the number of times you saw him collapse from pain, the wound in his leg throbbing with unyielding agony. You couldn��t count the number of times you stood outside his hospital room, staring through the window at his broken figure, fingers running over the scar on his shoulder.

Yet, he never said a word of it to you. Not once did Mitch say anything about his pain or his distress, keeping a cold persona that made your skin crawl and your wrist ache.

After graduating with your masters, you moved down to Rhode Island with Mitch, despite his silent protests. He never actively pushed you away, but you couldn’t help feeling that he was trying to distance himself from you. Writing it off as part of his painful loss, you stayed with him, caring for him just as you always had.

Every night, you would show up at his apartment door, letting yourself in with the spare key he never complained that you had. He would be shirtless at his computer or in his bed, reading some book in which you weren’t sure the contents were. Every once in a while, you would find him knee deep in exercising, his fists pounding away at the punching bag hung up from his roof. His eyes, dark and mysterious, would glance up at you, never truly acknowledging your presence in his messy home. He would follow your form across the apartment until you found the kitchen, placing the groceries you got for him in his fridge, making dinner for the two of you.

He would grace you long enough to sit at the table for an awkward, silent meal, words rarely being shared. The clink of silverware against the plates filled the apartment, sometimes Mitch being preoccupied with a book. He never gazed at you for long, your eyes lefts to linger on his form, taking in the changes he had undergone in a year and a half.

His hair had grown out, the once shorted chocolate locks having grown out to something that was reminiscent of his high school days. The ends curled towards the roof unless they were wet with sweat or a shower. His luscious locks had lost some of its sheen, mirroring his depressed form. You only knew that it was the same fluffy locks he always had because he would sometimes fall asleep after dinner and you would sit with him, running your hands through his hair. It seemed to calm him, a wave of relaxation washing over you almost like you were able to feel his aura seeping through your system.

To add to the longer hair, the man had grown out his beard considerably. It felt like the first true sign that he was a man now, no longer the teen you went to highschool with. A thick brush of hair covered his lip, chin and cheeks, hiding the constellation of marks that were spread across his jawline. It saddened you that they were invisible to the naked eye as the hair got longer. Recalling the nights you could just say next to each other talking, you had counted the number of marks and moles he had strewn across his fair skin countless times, memorizing them without realizing it. Though, staring at him now, his slender digits stroking the length of his beard, tugging at the end strands

His body had changed. The fact that he strolled around his apartment shirtless helped you to admire his newly improved physique. His arms had bulked up from incessant training, the same veins you were used to running alone paled skin. His pecs had tightened, showing off his collarbone more pronouncedly. His shoulders had broadened with his increased muscle tone, his sheer strength of will resting on them. The thing that made you frown the most was the star that glared across the room on his shoulder - from either side - from the bullet wound he incurred. It was the bitter reminder of what had happened; it was the imperfection that seemed to keep him going.

The cold man sat across from you, you heart breaking at the sight. You never stopped caring; you never stopped loving him. If anything, you cared for him more than ever. From the time you saw him lying in the bed, broken and lost, you wanted to be there for him. And over time, as you watched him recover - watching him grow strong physically and mentally - you couldn’t help but feel your rapid heartbeat pounding against your ribcage, a clammy hand placed over it when you were alone. Your body burned, yearning to touch him, hold him and tell him things would be ok. You wanted to feel loved, even if it was a simple friendship once more.

The burning intensity that spread up your arm, however, worried you.

An uncomfortable knot typically sat inside you, something unsettling egging at your insides. Your mind screamed that something wasn’t right - that something was off. But what it was, you couldn’t say for sure. The only sign your had was the constant sizzle the ran through your veins, resembling adrenaline and determination that didn’t feel like your own. The source: the puzzle piece. Everything seemed to radiate from it and resting a hand over it at night, it felt like your skin was n fire under chilled, icy hands. Whenever your eyes fell upon Mitch, the burn seemed to increase, your thumping heart speeding up without the feeling of love.

Swallowing thickly one night, you placed your fork down with a loud clatter than caught Mitch’s attention for once. Dark whiskey eyes glanced up from his own food, a brow raising. Your hands fell into your lap, fingers fiddling together anxiously. Your eyes squeezed shut, unsure why you felt so nervous. It felt like it had been forever since you spoke to him. It felt like you hadn’t had a normal conversation with the Mitch you knew and loved. His gaze now felt like it was piercing your soul, your blood running cold. His warming presence now teetered over you, intimidating you with just a glance.

“Mitch,” you breathed, finally daring to look up at the man. “Are you ok?”

The question was honest, and you could see Mitch waver slightly at the sudden inquiry. His hand shook, the fork placed on the table slowly. His reddened lips pursed together, rubbing together in thought. His eyes narrowed before falling to the table, pondering whatever words he would spout off. Cocking your head to the side, you waited, no immediate answer coming. Your hand unconsciously rubbed at your irritated wrist, a sense of dread and anguish beginning to wash over you. Your lip quivered, eyes glistening with unshed tears you had withheld for years.

“Please,” you let out quietly, voice cracking under the weight of worry. “Please, Mitch. Just answer me honestly. I’m so worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” came his quick reply. His sultry voice made you shiver, the man returning his gaze to you across the table. A fire burned in his orbs. His hands curled into tightened fists, knuckles glowing a ghostly white from the tension. “I promise, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure-”

“Yes,” he cut you off, giving a small smile that screamed fakeness. “I promise, I’m fine. I will make things right, I swear.”

His words sparked a sense a distrust - a feeling you never thought you’d feel. Something felt off with the way he said it. Something wasn’t right because the mark imprinted in your skin burned hotter with determination. Yet, behind the fire was a cold wave that told you one thing.

Mitch lied about being fine.

But…

He wasn’t lying about making things right.

The words lingered in your mind ever since. You wanted to piece together what it meant. You were scared your friend - your crush - was going to do something he may regret one day. Nightmares plagued your mind of the reckless things he could attempt, the result always the same. He would lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood, the crimson liquid spreading out in every direction. Finally, it would settle around your feet, staining your bare feet. His lifeless eyes would bore into you, head giving a sickly crack as it tilted in the wrong direction in a zombie-like manner. His mouth would part, the same words making you scream yourself awake.

Why didn’t you help me? Why did you let me die?

In your state of panic, you began to use your days ff to tail the man. Taking note of his odd behavior as the fall and winter weather approached, you bundled in the warmest jacket you could find, a bean on your head and gloves on your hands while following him, keeping a safe distance so he wouldn’t pick up on your presence. His head occasionally would whip around, as if he felt eyes on him at all hours of the day.

You hid in a corner of the gym, sipping on a bottle of water while watching him wrestle and fist fight with the other men. Mitch seemed to be oblivious to your form watching over him, too focus on the punches he would throw, the kicks he laid and the aggressive grappling he had become fond of. One too many times, you saw how violent he would become, spinning his body around in a way that made his butt stick out in the black and red gym shorts. His legs would wind around a man’s torso, hands gripping at the shirt to begin choking the defenseless trainee. Only when they were red in the face and on the verge of passing out would Mitch be ripped away, his opponent gasping for air with the mumble of low curses under his breath.

The increased violence furthered your worry. Mitch could be a hard ass growing up, but before your eyes, this was new extreme. He seemed primed to kill, his sight gone red with one thought: fulfill the task at hand. Even in training, he seemed to be prepping for something, not caring who was in his way of becoming strong. His steps never tangled and his hands never wavered, the intent to end a life sickening.

Your head snapped up one cold afternoon, the straw of your coffee between your lips when you heard the yells of Carlos from the mats. The pen in your hand fell into your notebook, straightening up where you sat to see what was going on. Mitch was swiping his thumb across his nose, cheek red. His eyes had narrowed as Carlos’ booming voice carried.

“That’s it, Rapp. You’re done. Get out,” he told the sweaty man. Mitch glanced between the gym owner and the guy gasping for air on the ground, cursing out Mitch. Noticing he stood stagnant, Carlos’ voice raised, pointing at the door. “Get out!”

Mitch rolled his eyes, an air of annoyance exuding from him body. He reeked of it, not caring who knew he was pissed off. Ripping off the gloves, Mitch trotted to his belongings, removing the leg pads before pulling on his shoes. His hair stuck to his forehead, clothes clinging to his limbs. Whipping his jacket onto his shoulder, he stood from his seat, gym bag tight in hand.

“Have a nice fucking day,” was his bitter remark. You winced when the clang of the door banged open, Mitch disappearing into the cold while the door clattered shut.

Gathering your stuff, you rushed over to Carlos, giving him a sad smile. “I’m so sorry about him, Car. He’s just… he’s been on edge.”

Carlos sighed, rubbing his chin. “I know he’s your friend, but you can’t keep making excuses for him, Y/N.”

“What? I’m not-”

“Watch out for him,” Carlos said. “He’s going to get hurt with this reckless behavior. Or worse - he’ll get someone else killed. And I’d rather not hear that it’s you.”

You frowned, tightening your grip on your bag. You stared at the ground, biting at your lip. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I don’t know about that anymore.”

You left without another word, following Mitch to his next destination: the gun range. With every step you took, all you could think was, He would never do that.  

Walking down the packed street, you slid past people as fast as you could, trying to keep pace with the ever vigilant man. Your hands were stuffed in the pockets of your jackets, only pulling out glove-clad hands when you moved by people while uttering low apologies. Your eyes never left the man through the gaps in the crowd, a considerable gap to keep from being noticed.

Through the entire process of tailing your friend, you missed the shutter of a camera going off, a man in black clicking photo after photo of Mitch as he hastily sped his way down the Rhode Island streets of gray brick and cobblestone. The circle with a distinct crosshair narrowed on the man for a flurry of pictures before turning to you. The man in black taking the photos stared at the image of you he had captured, clicking the radio on his ear.

“Candidate is on the move to the gun range. The girl is on his tail.”

“Does she know anything?”

“I don’t think so. I think she’s just concerned.”

“Well, make sure she doesn’t pick up on his habits. If he makes a move, we can’t drag her into this.”

“Yes, ma’am, Director Kennedy.”

~

You didn’t know that the last time you would would see Mitch was that day at the gun range. You had stood worried near your coworker who agreed to cover for you as you watched Mitch. It started out normal: shot after shot making your ears ring, even through the noise cancelling headphones you were designated to wear in the pit. Each shot that was fired nailed its target, the paper cut out of a human being displaying holes in the head and chest.

The noise picked up when he swapped guns, the hand gun exchanged for a high powered rifle that struck through the air with a sickening crack. The constant ‘boom, boom, boom’ made you wince, watching the slaughter of the target in progress. Dust was flying, bullets hitting the wall behind the target as it was torn to shreds. People stopped at stare at the man you called your longtime best friend, his form unwavering and unflinching.

You stood from your seat in panic when the alarm sounded, blaring into your mind clearly. Each step into the gravel Mitch did made you heart jump, clammy hands gripping at the bottom of your shirt. After swapping guns again, the even more high powered pistol firing off into the air, Mitch was attacking other targets. When he moved forward, the gun dangled at his side, the former athlete swapping to a handheld pistol as if he were finishing off a target after he ran out of bullets.

You wanted to run after hi, hugging him from behind to stop him. But Jeremy held you back, shaking his head. Sadly, you were forced to watch Mitch get escorted from the premises.

You didn’t follow him after that. You headed home, soaked in a bath, and never heard from him again. He seemed to vanish, leaving nothing more than a note on his fridge door that said he was on a trip and not to worry about him. The words didn’t calm you, your worry building each day that passed. Phone calls went unanswered, going straight to voicemail after a while. Texts went unread, no reply attempted. No sign of life lingered in his apartment, the mess the same very time you walked in, walking back out immediately after. Dust was gathering on the surfaces. Mitch’s landlord asked every time you walked in what was going on.

All you could tell him was you didn’t know before passing him the payments Mitch neglected while he was away.

Sitting at work one afternoon, Wendy, you seatmate, slide over to you, leaning on her elbows as she eyed you. Her long black hair draped across her shoulders, tips brushing against the tabletop. Her dark eyes narrowed on your form, bright red lips pursed together. Manicured nails drummed against the polished table, the click clack making your nerves rattle. Amidst all of your stress, you were on edge from lack of sleep. Hearing her chair squeak when he shifted into a different position to stare at the side of your face, you let out a deep sigh, turning to her.

“Can I help you, Wen?”

“You look like you haven’t slept again,” she pointed out. Gesturing to her own face, she pointed out the spot just under her eyes. “Your make up didn’t cover the bags. And you look like you haven’t eaten. You’ve lost color in your cheeks.”

“Is my makeup really that bad that you can tell?” you huffed, pulling a mirror from your purse.

“Yes and no,” she mused. “I just know you that well. So, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

“You’re a horrible liar.”

You sighed again, letting your head fall to your lap. You hand instinctively rubbed at your wrist, feeling a brief sting of pain course through your body. It wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the shockwaves you had encountered, but it was rattling whenever the sudden feeling took over. Wendy watched on, waiting for you to answer.

“I’m just worried,” you admitted, eyes darting to her for a second. “Mitch hasn’t been home in over a month. He was he was on a trip, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of him. I’m scared something happened. The last time he left like this, he was shot in Ibiza. He hasn’t been the same since and I’m afraid that he went off to do something reckless. That he’s on some suicide mission.”

You wanted to tell her more. To tell her about the burning sensation that flowed through your veins like fire. To confess about the feelings you felt that weren’t your own: the sense of dissatisfaction that happened days after Mitch vanished, the anger that made your skin crawl, the shocks of pain that ripped through your body nights ago while a sense of determination and focus kept your eyes open. But, you knew she would think you crazy. It was like telling someone you could hear voices. It wouldn’t end well to say something.

“All he left was a note, right? Saying he would be away?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I’m sure he left it because he knew I would stop by. I-”

“You always do. I know,” she mused. “You care a lot for that man but it feels like he doesn’t care back.”

“No, he does,” you said, almost as if trying to convince yourself too. “He’s been my friend forever. So, whatever’s been going on - what’s been going through his mind - I don’t think he wants me involved. That’s why I’m afraid he’s going to do something reckless. He won’t tell me so I don’t try to butt in. He knows I will. I feel like he has some death wish.”

“Well, he’s stupid if he keeps pushing you away.”

“I…” you started, letting out a choked sigh. You were fighting back tears. “I don’t know why he’s fighting so hard against me. I know he’s been hurt and he lost Katrina, but all I’ve ever done is been there for him. And he keeps himself so sheltered now. I don’t understand what happened or why he’s being like this. Everything changed, Wendy…”

Wendy rubbed your back, giving a sad smile. “He’s a male. Males do dumb shit.”

“You can say that again.”

“As much as I hate the guy for making you feel so shitty, I want to say that he has good intentions. If you were as good of friends as you say, he must be doing this for a reason. He kept himself away maybe because he doesn’t want you to get hurt by something?” Wendy grinned, trying to lighten to mood. “Or, maybe deep down, he just loves you so much that he is afraid you will reject him.”

You let out a bitter laugh, unable to smile fully. Maybe he does care and he’s pushing me away because of it. Because of Katrina…

“How about you take the rest of today off?” Wendy proposed. Your brow rose at your friend, silently asking what she was talking about. “I will take care of the work you have to do today. You should go to his apartment and snoop around.”

“Snoop around?” you inquired.

“Have you ever actually looked around since he left?” she asked. When you shook your head no, she continued. “Maybe there is some clues around for where he went to what is going on.”

“Isn’t that an invasion of privacy?”

“You have a key to his apartment. It’s not like you are breaking in,” she claimed. “As far as I can see, it’s perfectly fine for you to look around.”

“I don’t know…”

“Y/N,” she cut you off. Her hands took yours, smoothing over the tops. “I know you care about him. I know you are worried. So, figure out where he went. It’s the only way to put your mind and heart at ease. Just look around. Maybe there is something there you never noticed. Something that’ll tell you what you need to know. Anything that helps, I want you to look for.”

You pouted for a second before nodding. “Fine.”

“Good,” she grinned. “Text me and keep me updated if anything happens.”

“I will. Thank you, Wen.”

You rushed from the office, headed straight for Mitch’s desolate apartment. Mr. Hazir nodded at you when you walked in, rushing up the stairs to the second floor where the apartment sat. Your hand shook with the key, making you stop to take a deep breath before sliding the key into the lock and twisting. The door clicked, squeaking open as you entered. The dark apartment made you grimace, the smell of old, sweaty clothes giving off a distinct musk wafting up your nose.

Your bag was left by the door as you wandered the apartment, searching for anything that may give you a clue to his unknown location. The punching bag swung lazily when your hand brushed against it, the chain rattling against the hook with its strained weight. His work out gear sat discarded on his ruffled bed sheets, training gloves and pads full frontal vision for you to see. Dust collected on your fingers when they were swiped along any surface, reassuring to his vacancy.

Sitting on the bed, you flicked your eyes through the apartment, straining to see if there was anything out of place that you weren’t used to seeing. “Where did you go?” you asked aloud, receiving no answer back. You sighed, laying back on his bed, feeling the cold sheets and blankets under your hand. “What are you up to, Mitch?”

Your throat tightened with unshed sobs and tears, choking back the sorrow you felt. You forced yourself to sit up, going through his drawers to find something - anything. Your mouth dropped at the sight of the multiple books on the Arabic language, culture and history you never truly realized he was reading. Balls of paper were in the waste bin near his bed, each one being a different article about the same person: Adnan Al-Mansur. The last article you picked up made you body quiver.

It was an news article about the attack in Ibiza.

“Mitch…” you whispered out, biting your lip.

Moving to his computer, your heart sunk further into your stomach. The keyboard was covered with a transparent keyboard with the Arabic alphabet. More books and papers were piled on either side of his laptop, adding to the confusion of what he was doing. Powering on the laptop, you were met with his login information, the password unknown. You sighed hopelessly, not wanting to attempt to break in. Instead, your fingers brushed across the keyboard, feeling warmth along your tips despite the cold plastic it felt. Your fingers moved like you were typing unsure what you were saying.

It just felt natural.

“What have you been doing?” you asked yourself. “I don’t get it. You’ve been learning Arabic, but for what?” You felt dread seeping in, not wanting to believe the following question. “Were you planning revenge on Mansur, the man who murdered Katrina?”

Nausea began to set in. Your stomach twisted with unanswered questions. You needed to escape before you spewed your lack of food onto the hardwood floor. The chair clattered backwards in your haste, hitting the floor with a loud thump. Your heel clacked against the floor while rushing for the front door, stilling before you got there. Your body froze, eyes directed at the closet that hung ajar.

You tried to push it closed, but something impeded it. Swallowing thickly, you pulled it open, letting your arms drop to the sides. Pasted to the inside of the door were pictures of Mansur, slices and cuts ebbed into the photos. The Wooden door had been punctured, but by what? The knife that still sat imbedded in Mansur’s forehead. The black handle poked straight out, blade sharp and stuck in the wood. The pit in your stomach grew at what you saw, the worst becoming reality.

You ran away, not looking back at the evidence of insanity and maniacal vengeance that was present in that room. You didn’t want to admit what you knew. You didn’t want to believe that Mitch was out for revenge.

Mitch was on a suicide mission to kill Adnan Al-Mansur.

~

The room was dark. The only sound was the clicking of fingers against a keyboard. The multiple screens that were perched along the wall were the only source of light, eyes flittering between the codes that appeared before them. The white letters against a black screen flashed rapidly across the screen until the stopped with coordinates to the destination in question. The eyes blinked, blinded from the constant staring at the bright screens in the dark hour.

It was after midnight.

But the chair sliding against the floor was loud, feet padding across the room to find the first bag possible. Clothes were shoved inside, hygiene products shoved into a small pouch on the inside. A passport sat on the bed, ready for use. A hand grabbed the phone that was connected to the computer, dialling a number rarely used.

It was cheating to do so, but you had no choice. Years in a computer science field and you were well adept in the task of breaking into someone’s phone, tracking the location of its whereabouts. The task was illegal, so you rarely did it. But when Mitch changed, you knew you needed a way to keep an eye on him.

Zipping the bag shut, the phone pressed to your ear, you spoke to the person on the other end confidently.

“I need the first available ticket overseas. Preferably the fastest travel.”

“Where is the destination?”

Your eyes fell on the computer before swinging the bag onto your back, backing towards the door. One hand rubbed the jigsaw piece on your wrist, feeling the determination that spurred from not one, but two sources: yours and the unknown presence that lingered around, giving you a sense of comfort that came from something, or someone, else. You were going to him. If he was still alive - you would be there. Even if he didn’t want you there, you couldn’t abandon your friend. Your mouth parted to answer, accepting what you had to do before answering.  

You would save Mitch, one way or another.

“Istanbul, Turkey.”

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[davidmann95]

E L S E W O R L D S ? ? ?

MY THOUGHTS ON THE WORLDS AND THEIR ELSE-ENING ARE MANY.

Gonna put most of this under a spoiler cut just in case, but right up front: I only regularly watch The Flash starting with Season 4 (along with seeing the first half-seasons of it and Supergirl, plus sporadic episodes of the other shows and Invasion!), and while there are absolutely standout episodes, it’s probably the most lukewarmly received piece of media I consume on a regular basis. So Elseworlds looked rad, and The Best Superman was coming back for it, but aside from hints that it was going all Final Crisis (which sadly weren’t realized) I was hardly outright ecstatic at the prospect of a Freaky Friday alone, even with Batwoman’s introduction in play. Basically I assumed it’d a bunch of fine stuff I’d get through so I could drink up the Superman content like a dying man in a desert.

This was my favorite live-action DC thing since The Dark Knight Rises if not in fact The Dark Knight itself, and in all honesty probably my favorite period of the non-Batman division. It was everything I want out of this sort of project and more.

I’mma break this down into a few categories: as a whole, Superman specifically because if you’re here you know what my deal is, THE ENDING, and a multitude of scattershot impressions and thoughts.

AS A WHOLE: Was this a masterwork of layered conceptual depth and calculated plotting tight as drum? Hardly - if nothing else, the sheer fact that the entire Superfamily is functionally and thematically superfluous precludes that upfront. But again, this is the perfect version of this kind of series, where clockwork precision is rarely the name of the game (aside from that dope episode of Flash with the bomb) so much as excitement and character-driven emotion, and in that regard this is the platonic ideal. Oliver and Barry hold the narrative together as Barry low-key relearns the value of his own kind of strength, and Oliver high-key learns to accept that he’s not living in a world defined by him anymore and he needs to be better, to the point where I may not even rag on him as Walmart Batman anymore every time I have cause to mention him, especially since that gets its own perfect sendoff. Batwoman functions as a perfect pilot capsule while still functioning as a chunk of a larger story, and Ruby Rose is on point. Supergirl gets some quality content even with her hands off the wheel (which is one of the lesser aspects given…well, given this is probably gonna be the last crossover like this and she really should have been the lead for one of them). It’s funny and thrilling and so damn weird, concerned above all else with making you giggle at doing stuff you’ve wanted to see for years and then making you give a shit about the emotional consequences of Barry Allen picking up some archery classes, and it earns what it reaches for.

Moreover, this episode represented a moment of maturation for me in terms of its status as a shared universe: Crisis on Earth-X was the culmination of what this world HAD been with its massive group shot aboard the Waverider, and that culmination was my going “wow, lookit that, they really did build something kinda functional out of what they had to work with”. It was a world that was comic book as all hell in the best way, but its own oddball strain made up of recognizable pieces broken off from a larger puzzle and rearranged into a new configuration. Here? From the moment the Monitor chases off 90s Flash on a desperate race from his dead world and the bodies of an army of superheroes to save all creation, into Superman taking his place as a central figure, Batman’s mythology unfurling out of nowhere at a beautifully shameless breakneck pace, the establishment of the Multiverse and Monitor mythology as the base level concept uniting the universe as a whole, and hotlinks to a half-dozen other major mythology elements I’d given up on ever seeing acknowledged, this really and profoundly feels like DC Comics.

SUPERMAN: Still so so good! I will say, this wasn’t nearly as much a breakthrough standout display for Hoechlin’s Clark as his prior Supergirl appearances, with a couple line readings where he’s maybe just a little too chill, and less opportunity to display range or depth given he’s in the back seat. And dude’s gotta practice pretending to be thrown back, however you do that, because that was pretty badly fakey-looking. If this had been his debut, I still would’ve loved him, but he’d be taking up third or fourth on my list of live-action Superman actors rather than sitting pretty at #1; I have to wonder if a lot of his energy simply went to his killer performance as Deegan, or if he’s still modulating his kinda-being-his-real-self-but-also-still-putting-on-the-Supermanness chunk of his performance given it’s with Kara and Lois that he really shines. If someone writes him off as a dime store Reeve though, they’re still wrong and also probably bad. Shoring up his cracks though is Elizabeth Tulloch, who’s already at least vying for a place on the Lois Lane Mount Rushmore. Reminded me heavily of the best of Erica Durance’s take, but with an additional straightforward bluntness that suits Lane incredibly well, and a talent for talking rings around Clark that does more than any other Lois to date to sell the idea that that’s a huge part of what he loves about her. Also she slaps around a mad god with the hammer for the cosmic anvil from All-Star Superman, because if there’s one thing Lois Lane steadfastly refuses to be in the business of, it’s in any way fucking around.

As for the big question: even aside from Tulloch making pretty clear in a recent interview that it’s something producers are talking about, yes, I absolutely think the Superman/Lois chunk of this was as fully intended to act as a backdoor pilot for them as the second act was for Batwoman. I know I’ve been certain on this in the past just as a matter of ‘they can use Superman so it would be foolish not to push that’, but then, well, nothing happened. But here, while the creators are clearly hedging their bets with providing them what could easily be a happily-ever-after, their appearance in this way in this context is bizarrely conspicuous and pointless if that wasn’t what was intended. They’re incidental to the plot (Deegan becoming Superman, while great fun that gives us an interesting new spin on the evil Superman concept, is basically just an aesthetic), the functionality of getting Clark away from National City had already been handled by the season premiere and never actually takes anything more than ‘he’s busy in space/plugging up a volcano/fighting Luthor’ as has already been done in the past, the guest spots and relevant emotional beats could have easily been contained to an episode of Supergirl rather than spilling out into an already stuffed three episodes, and if they could only be used in one crossover for some reason they’d obviously be saved for the next one. And they get a scene to themselves AFTER their role with our leads is wrapped up, with a moment that could have already come off-screen earlier but didn’t, purely to endear them to us in a way that would make us want to see more of them. I’m not saying a Superman show is now guaranteed, but unless there was some bizarre instruction that they suddenly once and for all needed to permanently get rid of him - yet permitted that to be accomplished via the delivery mechanism of more Superman, in a way that’s noted as impermanent in-universe and in a context that’s going to introduce him and Lois and push them as big deals to the maximum possible number of viewers - yeah, I think that’s what the people who made this must have been intending. And that the powers that be let them is incredibly encouraging. As Tulloch said, a lot of this is out of the hands of anyone but corporate, but Elseworlds got season highs so that’s a point in their favor; hopefully Cryer works out as Luthor, because I imagine that’s the other checkmark needing to be crossed off that comes down to the response of the viewership.

Also the proposal was perfect, and I am astonished that happening after the pregnancy was announced got to go through - ‘modern’ indeed, as Cat Grant would put it. I get it’s got precedent of a sort in Superman Returns, but on the other hand, that precedent was Superman Returns. I’m surprised I’m not already seeing thinkpieces on the degradation of American Values coming out of this.

FUCK: 

FUCK.

I really thought there was gonna be one more crossover before they dove all the way in. But nope, nope nope nope, instead by this time next year for-real live action Crisis on Infinite Earths with Flash, Supergirl, Superman, the Monitor, shadow demons, the Psycho Pirate, and assuredly a comprehensive collection of carefully curated cameos from the ghosts of DC TV past will be a thing out there in the world. Marv Wolfman sure must be having a nice day.

And boy, they are not in ANY kind of position to half-ass it. The name value alone would be enough, but if that was it they could at least maybe get away with Dean Cain and Brandon Routh showing up in their old working clothes to help beat up the Anti-Monitor on a cordoned-off Vancouver street, maybe a couple of the Legends folks biting it. But they‘ve been explicitly acknowledging it as a thing they’d build up to for five years, since episode one of their most popular show, and if I’m right and the writing in the book of Destiny was supposed to be the same kind of text that Nora’s writing, they’ve been actively setting up Chekhov’s guns within the shows themselves for at minimum two years. AND they’ve already done three other world-threatening multiversal crossovers, including a classic JLA/JSA-model Crisis, so they’ve already established a threshold of crossover event that this needs to plainly mark itself as an entirely different order of magnitude from, AND they’ve had a threat to the multiverse before in Zoom so just saying that again without really showing it isn’t going to measure up. Hell, the idea of massive status quo changes is reinforced as being just the much of the mission statement of this as the original via Psycho Pirate. They’ve apparently quite knowingly backed themselves into a corner where they actually have to Wreck Shit. At minimum one of the three leads has to die for keeps, and all have the symbolic weight behind them - Oliver included after Elseworlds, and really in the first place as the founder of this DCU - and have obvious enough successor shows waiting in the wings to feel like they’re legitimately in the line of fire.

My hope? One that unlike usual I’m not gonna bolster by drawing on evidence at hand and logical assumptions, but the way I simply feel it Should Go and think at this point has a legitimate chance of being the case? Crisis is its own miniseries in the fall in place of the return of the other four shows, a massive high-budget ensemble piece with room to breathe…and at the end pretty much everyone dies. Most of the Legends, some supporting cast members, and above all Oliver, Barry, and Kara ALL die grandiosely and nobly to save all creation, hidden from the audience successfully by way of a miniseries ‘putting off’ the actually nonexistent renewals of the existing series. Earths 1 and 38 are merged (hopefully without discarding the multiverse as a whole, and with the heroes remembering their pasts), and in the wake of this massive conclusion, the entire DCTV lineup is effectively relaunched. Batwoman comes in here, taking Arrow’s place, while Superman emerges (likely with a psuedo-Rebirth setup since Jon’s on the way - they can figure out a way to get him to the appropriate age) with him dealing with his family and his initial grief, The Flash is relaunched with Wally and/or Nora assuming the mantle, and Legends reconstituting itself, whether by its original title or as Legion of Superheroes or Justice League, with a new lineup made up in large part of the castoffs from the cancelled series. Again, obviously there’s nothing definitely pointing towards this being the case, but somehow it just feels right, especially with Batwoman and Superman shows clearly being gestured towards when Arrow and Supergirl are the shows that would definitely have to end or at least change names with the death of their leads. The strongest evidence against all this, I think, is that Supergirl wouldn’t quite have hit a hundred episodes and syndication yet. Though there may still be that Supergirl movie too, so that’s a factor.

A couple incidental thoughts on that front: 

* Interesting that Flash vanishes in 2024 and is still gone in 2049, but the first crossover - made when ‘Flash vanishes’ was already a keystone mythology element, and given its place at such an important moment you’d think the writers would remember - makes clear there’s an old Barry around in 2056. I could see that coming up. 

* Thawne’s role in this season of Flash feels at this point like it has to dovetail into everything, and I could see him taking up Psycho Pirates’ role in the original story even if the genuine article’s around. 

* I wonder if Jon Cryer’s gonna play Alexander Luthor.

* If Kara and Barry do die, and likely make some post-death appearances, I wouldn’t mind if they for the sake of novelty reverse things so that it’s Kara who comes back for real in Final Crisis, while Barry’s the one who comes from the past unknowingly and tear-inducingly ala Whatever Happened From The Man Of Tomorrow? (that could easily be set up via the “three hardest days of your life” thing Johns did in his Flash run).

* Incidentally, do Final Crisis as the ultimate event the next wave of shows build up to like this was built up to, and make that the end of everything.

* If I’m all wrong about Superman and he’s just being set up as a lamb to the slaughter for Crisis to fill the Supergirl role (which would still by no means require him appearing in Elseworlds, especially given it’s not like he develops a relationship with Barry or Oliver, so I’ll say my points all still stand), I get the impulse is to do him dying in Kara’s arms. But if they do wanna go this way and finish his story, I really, really hope that instead they let him deal at least part of the killing blow and then somehow vanish into ‘Heaven’ with Lois and Jon. If you’re gonna homage a Superman bit from there to close him out, that’s the one to go with.

* If Ezra Miller wasn’t bullshitting and would be willing to put in a little appearance, this is the place.

ASSORTED REACTIONS:

* “Oh Barry, what have you done this time?” Oliver’s wise to your shit, boy. He knows full well he’s pretty much in a ‘Barry fucks up with Flashpoint even further’ meme come to life.

* Barry freaking out that he knows kung fu is a delight, as is Oliver trying so dang hard to do this whole ‘Flash’ thing.

* Knocking out the pair of them is admittedly *a bit much*, but while some might correctly note that they’ve seen so much weird shit they should be able to accept this, I’d say it’d also be fair to note that they’ve seen so much weird shit they’re not wrong to think this is gonna snowball into some bullshit and it’d maybe be simplest to nip it in the bud and get things under control.

* Barry, I’m glad there are toilets in the Pipeline, but someday you’re going to think to ask ‘so Cisco, what are you feeding them down there?’, and then Vibe’s gonna go OH FRAK or some other nerd shit and they’re gonna find 5 seasons worth of corpses to clean up.

* Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha they did fuckin’ KGBeast on Arrow. Was that who Dolph Lundgren played? Checking…no. Dang.

* I had heard there was gonna be a Remy Zero shout-out for Smallville, but I assumed someone would just ask for someone to save them or it would be playing on the radio, not that they’d hard swerve from vague orchestral stirrings to pseudo-Nickelback. Loved it.

* Clark’s doin’ Clark stuff and I love it, Lois is doin’ Lois stuff and I love it, she nearly kills the Flash and Green Arrow with a hammer (truly her weapon of choice!) and I love it.

* Oliver pathetically puffing out his chest, WHILE CLARK ISN’T EVEN BEING SUPERMAN, is as good as television gets.

* AMAZO. Aside from basic delight at his existence, I love that the ‘Mirakiru’ ties into the Ivo material I know was in early, pre-superhero Arrow. It’s as if when Smallville got to do Supergirl and Doomsday for real they went ahead and tied them back in to the weird proto versions of them they’d already set up not knowing what they’d be able to do later. Much as Mxyzptlk or Grodd or Muppet Legends (I also caught that shows’ midseason finale, it was delightful) are easy to point to as indicators of how far this universe has come, this underlined that in a very unique way.

* Harsh, Barry - and where did you get those crossbows? - but earned as the Superfamily probably put together when they heard Oliver yelling about how when HE shot Barry he totally had a good reason for it. And along with the sheer, savage power of “I don’t think you can go more than nine hours without some sappy motivational speech”, it sets up Barry’s more understated character arc relative to Oliver in questioning and then reaffirming that his brand of emotional strength is just as strong as what your cowled types draw on. And while Lois obviously had the killer moment, Clark’s little “well, you kinda had that coming” look when Barry floors Oliver is nicely done. Smart money says he was thinkin’ about Bruce.

* Continued into the porch conversation, where the show takes its first real step in rehabilitating CW Green Arrow into a character I may no longer refer to by default as Walmart Batman as the show continues to dunk on him but he begins to take it in stride and realize he’s gonna have to change things up a bit.

* “Cool. Who are you?” “A friend.” So choice. Is that very clearly Williams-evoking musical sting at the end there something that often shows up in Supergirl? And I can’t tell whether’s Clark’s grin is in response to what he’s about to do, or because he’s relishing the hilarity of meeting a normal dude for the first time in his adult life who doesn’t know who Superman is, but either way I love it. And since I found his previous introductory shirt-tear honestly a little sub-par, this was an appreciated moment of redemption.

* Amazo fight rules, obviously. I do like to imagine the headlines the next day mentioning “hey, another superhero teamup happened with Supergirl from that other Earth who helped out with those invasions, and this time a male partner of hers showed up, some kind of…Super-man?” as the one pubic mention of Superman in the history of what’s presented as a ‘main’ DC universe.

* Barry just casually addressing ‘Clark’ by his first name is the first moment where I really thought ‘oh wow, this IS the DC Universe now’. And that “You’re welcome” worked as a reminder where there otherwise wasn’t space that yeah, he’s a nice dude, but maybe don’t tug too hard on his cape.

* Even though it wasn’t overtly followed up on, Barry being reminded that following Oliver’s example as his source of strength isn’t what’s gonna win him the day in the long run in the way that matters is a pretty essential piece.

* Every moment of Total Bat-Bullshit in here was so cheap and I loved it all so much.

* Oliver-dunking takes on its glorious apotheosis here - you know the line I’m thinking of - but it’s a necessary aspect of his journey here.

* Ruby Rose is very good as the charismatic vaguely menacing but easily flirty businesswoman, and again later kicking ass and delivering the growl, which she honestly does better than any live action Batman to this point. Curious to have it elaborated what kind of role she had in Bruce’s operation, given she clearly knew and has her own friggin’ cave.

* And then Barry stands up to Oliver’s demons while Oliver realizes Barry’s.

* “You really do have a lot of tattoos.” Oh my, Kara.

* “You have real steel in you, my friend.” And there you go for Barry’s arc.

* Well, wow. Fan theory bullshit triumphs at last, and now I kind of have to imagine we’re gonna see some actual Lanterns down the line. Hope, likely in vain, we see Hal so he can pal around with them before Oliver and/or Barry bite it.

* Mar Novu, huh? Somea that Final Crisis bullshiiiiit, please do feel free to pursue that further. Mandrakk’s cousin or something I guess?

* That can’t really be the end of the 90s Flash, right? If nothing else, he needs to stick around so that if they decide not to disintegrate Grant Gustin after all he can be the one there to make the death run.

* Episode one: “The darkness…I feel it…it threatens…to…CONSUME me…” Episode three : “oh my GOD Oliver we broke a LAW I’m gonna THROW UP”

* Hoechlin plays the hell out of Scary Dickhead Superman, even if it’s odd that Deegan was defensive about making an arguably sexist choice of identity when he already openly fucking supports eugenics. But an anon asked me about this and suggested this is a top-tier evil Superman, and yeah, I’d agree with that. He’s not scary because’s a mad god, he’s scary because he’s a small, small man who’s lucked his way into being GTA mod Superman, all of the pluses with none of the minuses, all of the ego-assuaging praise and power without having to meaningfully hold up his end of the bargain. It’s an effective twist on Superman as a power fantasy, one that’s scary in a very different way than the idea of it going wrong usually is. Because instead of him letting us down, it’s one of us joining him in the sun and trying to kick him and the rest of us out because it’s all HIS now.

* Oh yeah, of course Superman totally knows about the Book of Destiny. All the REALLY cool superheroes got that that kind of experience in the bag.

* As I said, Supergirl takes a back seat, but Benoist really shines with swaying Alex Danvers - from the moment I saw she’d be in this from the trailer I thought “Kara swaying her can’t be done very believably, it would be convincing her of a whole other life instead of a minor alteration”, but damn if she didn’t sell it.

* I must admit, the Superman V Superman fight is Hoechlin’s low point; him losing the advantage because he’s saving people is perfect, but some of his good-Superman deliveries lack the necessary conviction, and whether due to the animation or his overexagerated tumbling, him getting knocked around the city looks notably fake in parts to an extent that breaks the immersion.

* I guess Superman fought Bizarro at some point, if that concept carried over (I know Supergirl fought a Bizarro too, but if Superman never fought one the average citizen wouldn’t make that comparison). I suppose it’s the Earth-1 Alex Danvers and James Olsen though?

* Similar note: Kara mentions that ‘maybe my pod didn’t make it here’, and given doppelgangers are a thing, it’s been noted there’s a Krypton in each universe, obviously at least one other major superhero carries over in Batman, and the degree of long-term planning clearly going on at this point with the multiverse stuff, I honestly wonder if they might be laying the seeds for something on why Superman and Supergirl never happened on Earth-1.

* I do like that Superman’s technically the one who beats the bad guy flat-out and saves the world from a broken history by sheer force of will, even if he’s not the one with the splashier more permanent win later (and even then he saves Lois).

* Fuck yes. Never liked Superman turning the world backwards, but now entirely worth it for how that shit comes back here in the most gleefully unhinged manner imaginable (even if Mach 7 wiping out Barry and Kara is absurd on the face of it).

* And Oliver comes full circle to realizing he’s no longer the center of his own universe, realizing he can be better while still proving he has it in him to make the hardest call. This dude still ain’t Ollie, but I guess I can acknowledge him as Green Arrow.

* And then it’s all Superman stuff and Crisis, which I discussed, though worth mentioning just how off-guard the Jon confirmation caught me. Thumbs up on that!

#Elseworlds #DCTV #Superman #Lois Lane #Crisis On Infinite Earths #Flash #Arrow #Supergirl #Analysis #Opinion

[every-jai]

Just a Table Ch. 4

Finally, the next part of my newest Fan fiction. Real life hit me a little, so sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy it anyway. Reviews are welcome as always!

I'm pregnant....and it's yours" For nearly ten seconds all the colors drained from Jai's face, then it changed to pure rage. "Don't be ridiculous; we haven't been together for months!" She smiled. "3 months to be exact, and I'm 14 weeks pregnant. You ARE the father!" Jai scoffed and dragged me to the elevator "May I remember you, that you were so afraid of getting pregnant, that we even with you taking the pill, always used condoms? If not the doubtful case happened, that both failed - and I can't remember a broken condom - then this is not mine!" The elevator doors closed and left a stunned Kat behind.

Jai stood on the other end with his head held down. He clung to the railing so hard; his knuckles turned white. Suddenly he roared out and kicked the wall with all his power. "This woman really knows how to push my buttons, I have no idea, what I've done to deserve this!" I let him act out his anger and stayed behind.

When we arrived at his flat, he threw his keys in a corner, followed by his shoes. Anxious he wandered thru the room "what if she really has my Baby? I don't want to let the Kid down!" I sighed, scooped the keys out of the corner, placed his shoes beside the door and let myself fall onto the bench at the table. "Didn't you just say it couldn't be yours?" He leans on the kitchen counter "I'm pretty sure... I think so... Damn, I don't keep a book every time I slept with my girlfriend!" he sat down beside me. "Kat has nothing to do with Kids, she doesn't even like them. Every time Indy and her brother were visiting us, she left for her parents, and when we flew to Sydney for them, she always stayed in the background, never played with them. I just had to start talking about Kids, and she instantly throws a fit. Kat said, we had plenty of time for that, and she didn't want to 'ruin' her shape for them just yet." he put the word 'ruin' into exclamation marks with his fingers. I looked at him with a crooked head. "You want to have Kids?" Jai nodded weakly "Would love to have a family in the not so far future. I don't want to be an old Dad. I know it's not that easy with a job like mine, so I would always make sure that they won't miss me too much. But think I can skip that now" He looked really miserable, and it broke my heart to see him like this.

I just opened my mouth to said something reassuringly, when a loud and obnoxious banging started on the door. Jai rolled his eyes "ready to rumble again!" He opened the door, and Kat stormed inside. "How dare you to leave me alone down there!" she hissed, and Jai scowled at her. "Welcome, please come in!" he said sarcastically. Unimpressed she crossed him and threw her handbag on the table beside me. "So that you know what's up, I have a few terms you have to agree to." Jai looked at her completely stunned "Terms? You have terms? I don't think..." I stood up, went to Jai and laid my hand on his arm. "wait, let's hear what she has to say" I winked at him and took my cell phone, there was something I suddenly remembered. "Yeah, listen to your little ladylove, Jai" He crunched his teeth, "OK, tell me"

A smug smile spread across her face. "Good, these are my conditions: First, we are going to be seen in public together again. I'll accompany you to every Shooting, every premiere, every event. We don't want that something like this" she pointed her finger at me "happened ever again, don't we?" again, Jai wanted to say something, but I held him back with a shake of my head. "Please, let her finish" Kat nodded at me nearly appreciative, only to destroy it a second later "Thanks, whatever your name is" I had to cover a grin, she really was a handful. Let's see how long it lasts. "Second: I'm going to move back in, or we will look for a house together, you do not want that your child grows up in such a single dump, right?" Now I had to held Jai down with all my strength so he couldn't jump at her throat "Easy big boy, just a few more minutes" I looked back at Kat. "May I ask how long are you aware that you are pregnant?" Kat looked at me questioning "This is none of your concern" Now Jai jumped in "But it is mine! so, how long?" "Don't know, four weeks I think. I wanted to wait until the critical first 3 months are over, so I can be sure not to lose it" Great, this was the answer I was hoping for. Jai looked at me doubtfully, then back to Kat "That's all?" She shook her head "Just one more thing: I want her" again she pointed at me, "out of your life, completely! You are throwing her out, delete her number, and make sure that you do not meet again." Jai laughed humorlessly "And how should I do this? She's working for the same studios as I most of the time!" Kat just shrugged "I don't care, you are the famous actor here, do something about it. You will fulfill all my conditions, or the tabloids, the studios, directors, production companies and all your oh so precious fans will learn to know how bad you treated your pregnant ex-girlfriend. I think I can remember how you forced me to get an abortion"

Jai and me were amazed. She was absolutely ready for the utmost. But she wasn't the only one with a plan. Confident that she already won, Kat sat down on Jai's Laptop. "I see, we all agree. I would say you Jai, can call the mover, and I will look out for a real estate agent. And you," again she was pointing at me "go pack up your stuff and get the hell out of here." Neither Jai or me moved an inch. Her cell phone ringed, but she wasn't paying attention. I crossed my Armes in front of my chest and smiled "I think you better should look at that." Annoyed Kat picked up her phone, unlocked it and was cringing instantly. "what... What is that, where did you get this from?" Her once so calm and smug features turned into sheer panic. Now I was grinning from ear to ear. There, on her cell phone, three very revealing party pics of her, drinking heavily just a few days ago, were showing. "Maybe you should be careful when you're out and about."

I showed Jai the same photos on my phone. He stared at them in anger. Suddenly he grabbed Kat by her arms and shoved her out of the door. "Don't you dare ever approaching me again. If I see any of your accusations in public, just a glimpse or rumor going around of this, I swear to god, I sue you into oblivion. I think my lawyer will be very very interested in this." with that, he nearly smacked the door in her face. Jai lends on the closed door. "I can't believe she really tried to blackmail me! But please tell me, where did you get those pictures from?" Smiling I showed him a friends facebook page. "Kat was on a private Party a few days ago, where he was too. I remembered that the moment she said she was about 3 Month pregnant. Even Kat isn't so reckless with an unborn" He hugged me tightly. "Damn girl, you literally saved my life!"

3 weeks later my arm was fully healed. No more surgery was necessary, but a scar would be left. We hadn't heard anything more from Kat, it seems she was too afraid of a lawsuit.

I was just packing my last things, when Jai appears in the doorway, looking a little sad. "It will be very lonely around here without you" I smiled at him "well, now you can do what you want again, no more caretaking for me" Two, three long strides and Jai stood in front of me, tugging me into his Armes. He looked deep into my eyes "Honestly, there is just one thing I want to do right now" The next second his warm, soft lips pressed on mine. Without thinking about it, I kissed back. Jai's Armes sneaked around my back, and his hands gently stroked down till they laid on my hips. Seconds later I ended the kiss breathless and laid my forehead to his. "You have no idea how long I dreamed about this" he whispered softly, stroking my Nose with his. "Please, don't go!" I shook my head slightly "I'm sorry, but I have to" Confused he took a step back. I took his hand and set down on the bed with him. "Look, I want that as much as you do, believe me. But you just came out of a long relationship. Sometimes people fell in a black hole after that, and search for a distraction." Now he nearly went furious. "What do you think of me? I would never... " again I kissed him softly. "Only the best, believe me. I just want us to be on the same page about this." Jai looked at me pleadingly "We are! You aren't a distraction, please believe me!" I caressed his cheek "I do! Look, I'm going to New York for two weeks tomorrow. Let's use this to get clear about our feelings towards each other. Go out to a party, meet other women, do whatever you want, and if your feelings are still the same in two weeks time, you pick me up from the airport, ok?" He nodded. "if that's what you want" "it will be good for both of us."

He went to the door with me, hugged and kissed me one more time lovingly. "I'll see you in two weeks, you won't miss me, I'm the big guy with a bouquet of red roses waiting for you!" I laughed and went back to my apartment.

During my time in NY, we avoid any contact, which was very hard for me, to be honest. I missed Jai and was pretty sure about a relationship with him. The whole flight back home I couldn't think about anything else, couldn't wait to see him again, at the same time, I was terrified that his feelings would have changed.

The moment I arrived at the airport, I looked around for Jai, but couldn't find him. I waited for 10 minutes, then 20, ran around from baggage reclaim to the terminal exit and back, but no sight of him. Devasted I called a Cab and went back to my place. A pity, I was really sure that there was something between us. Tired I laid down on my cold, nearly unfamiliar bed. Just before I fell asleep, I remembered that my phone had died down a few hours ago. I plugged it into the charger and turned it on. Suddenly a dozen missed calls, and even more messages popped up on the screen. Ben, Sophie and oddly enough James, had tried to reach me. When I opened the first message from Ben, my heart stopped working: "(y/n), please call me urgently, Jai had an accident!"...

#fanfiction #jai courtney #jai courtney x reader

[resol-nare]

Sooo, I went back and looked at a WIP I had discarded during the Fictober challenge. Some of you may remember that I had brushed aside a fic in favor of posting a screenshot of Lana Beniko. Well, when I looked up said fic and grudgingly read over it again I realized “Hey, this isn’t as terrible as I thought at the time!” So I finished it in my own way instead of using a specific prompt and I’m really happy with it!

--

The Battle of Delrakkin

Val couldn’t help but think that something had gone horribly wrong. As if the explosions, shouting, and constant stream of blaster fire in her direction wasn’t enough to draw that conclusion, she was feeling the bite of dozens of little pieces of shrapnel digging into her side and arms. It hurt like hell to move, but moving was the only thing keeping her from getting vaporized by a thermal detonator or shot to pieces by a squad of Imperials. It was raining heavily, however, and traction was difficult to come by when your boots were sliding in the mud.

This was an extraction mission! Val thought angrily, flinching as a group of Imperials spotted her and began firing, forcing her to roll into cover(not an easy task with an assault cannon strapped to your back) behind a broken down walker. A walker! This had better be one hot-shot operative to be worth all this--

The roar of an Imperial bomber overhead derailed her train of thought, and she swore before pulling herself to her feet and trying to put as much distance between her and that walker as possible. Suddenly, a wave of energy forced her to her knees as fire exploded from where the walker was. Debris was flying and Val’s ears were ringing, and just as soon as she was able to feel the heat from the explosion wash over her she felt searing hot, sharp pieces of even more damned shrapnel find its way through her armor and into her lower back. She needed to find the rest of Havoc.

Maybe she’d get lucky and find Elara first.

With a pained groan, Val lifted herself out of the mud. The jagged pieces of metal embedded in her skin made it hard to move, every twitch of a muscle causing the afflicted areas to protest in anguish. She took note of the fact that she was now losing blood at a worrisome rate, the rain washing the red fluid from her armor and dissolving it into puddles of water under her feet. Her injuries appeared to be far worse than they felt. I need to find Elara.

Havoc had been separated amidst the chaos. The very first explosion took them all by surprise, and it seemed that the Imperials had one plan in mind: separate Havoc Squad, no matter the cost. So far, they had proven to be infuriatingly canny.

Val ran as fast as she could manage away from where she had been standing, seeking a better vantage point or one of her squadmates. After a minute of ducking more blaster fire, she heard a familiar whistle, and saw Aric taking cover behind a speeder not far from her position. The Cathar was raining some blaster fire of his own down on the Imps, sniper never really leaving his eye. Val joined him, crouching down beside him and setting her cannon aside.

“Sir,” He greeted her with a focused growl in his voice, “the Imps have us surrounded, but I think we can punch through with all the squad’s firepower.”

“They know that. It’s why they separated us,” Val panted, now aware of how dreadfully tired and hurt she sounded, “we need to regroup.”

Val bit her tongue and took her rifle from her back, the pain in her torso beginning to ebb off into a dull throb now that she was back to sitting in cover. She twisted to shoot and took out four Imperial soldiers before she had to turn back around, sucking air through her teeth. This made Aric look at her with concern, his brow furrowed deeply.

“You’re bleeding, Val. A lot. What happened?” He stopped shooting to check on her, gently leaning her forwards to see the damage to her back and then letting her rest back against their cover when her face contorted with the pain.

“Ah-! They… they had a lot of firepower focused on me for a while. Thought I’d never get out from under that rock before they blew it up.” Val gave her husband a long, uncertain look. Havoc’s definitely been in tougher situations, but this one was different in only one factor: They were completely unprepared for it.

“Well, I figure we can do one of two things: we can surrender,” Aric’s distaste for that particular option was clear, “or we can lay into them, keep the pressure on until we can get you to Elara.”

He put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a look that said ‘this is going to hurt but it’s our only way out’. She gave him a firm nod, took a deep breath in like her training said to do, and launched herself to her feet, hoisting her cannon up with her. In a second, immense bolts of energy were spewing from the spinning mouth of her weapon, breaking through Imperial rank and file with brutal efficiency. Their numbers thinned twice as fast, even to the point where Aric and Val were both feeling a bit more confident.

It was not to be.

Almost simultaneously, a pulse from one of the Imperial weapons threw Aric backwards and Val took a blaster shot to the gut that knocked her off her feet. She landed hard on her back, and couldn’t bite back the wounded cry she made when that prompted the sharp metal pieces in her torso to dig in deeper. That, coupled with the new burning hole in her gut was almost enough to do her in. However, either that blaster wound wasn’t as damaging as it felt or Val was now running on sheer willpower alone because she would be damned if she was going to let these Imps see her lying in the mud, broken and defeated.

Stand up, verd, the worst is yet to come. Her father’s words. True, if not exactly inspiring, and always spoken after a losing bout. Val grimly thought on what the old Mandalorian would say to her now if he were here.

Probably, he’d just shoot me. Val reached behind her, took hold of the speeder she was taking cover behind mere moments ago, and dragged herself through the mud closer to it. Every inch was torture. Shrapnel was like fangs in your skin, burying themselves deeper with every moment of friction. Val was beginning to feel lightheaded. Slowly, she gathered her legs under her and propped herself up on her hands and knees. She lifted her head up ever so slightly and nearly fainted. Was she seeing stars? She was pretty sure the sky was still above her…

“There’s one over here! Still alive! The Major!” An Imperial voice cut through the din of Val’s pounding head, but all other sounds were lost to her after that. She groaned, both from pain and dread. She had hoped that the Imperial squad would just kill her there, give her a meaningful death. Clearly, they had other plans. Maybe it was too much to hope for with the Empire, anyways.

Rain began to fall harder. The sound was enough to ground her for a minute so she could look for Aric before she faced the Imps. There he was, against the cliff. He was unconscious-- caked in mud and blood, but still alive as far as Val could tell. Stars. Elara, find him soon.

Armored footsteps behind her brought her attention back to the hostile squad. She had plans to stand and face them one last time, but it seems that just listening to that sound sapped much of what was left of her strength. She turned herself around and rested against the speeder with a grimace.

“Salutations, Major Faith. Or is it Major Ordo?” The smug Imperial’s voice came from within a dark helmet, warped by what sounded like a broken voice modulator. Val didn’t have to see his face to imagine the cocky smirk the man must be wearing, as if he thought knowing her Mando name was her one weakness.

“Jorgan,” Val quietly corrected him, determined to be insolent to the last, “What do I call you? Sergeant Shabuir?”

If the Imperial knew what that meant, he showed no sign. “That’s Colonel, you Republic mongrel. Best not say anything you’ll regret later.”

“Apologies. Colonel Chakaar does suit you better.”

The colonel waved his hand dismissively at her and turned back to his troops. “Shut her up. I want her prepared for her transfer to Sith Intelligence. I imagine they’ll have some interest in what she has to offer.”

So, that was to be her fate. They’re going to take her to Dromund Kaas to likely be tortured to death by spooks. Val couldn’t help the wave of anxiety that descended upon her as she considered what awaited her. The stories of Sith Itelligence’s interrogation methods were enough to unsettle even some of the hardiest soldiers in the Republic. Val considered making a grab for her cannon, but soon realized it was too late for that level of resistance. Even if she had the strength to lift the damn thing, one of the Imperials was already on his way over to her. She barely had the time to close her eyes before he brought his armored boot down on her face, and she fell limply back against the speeder.

#swtor #swtor fic #trooper #oc: valorous faith #aric jorgan #elara dorne #havoc squad

[kuriquinn]

Sex Ed [4/5]

Blanket Fic Disclaimer

Prompt: So reading Home and Unplanned Chapter 19, I think the former would be even funnier (maybe a second chapter or alternate version?) Where Sarada accidentally sucked too hard because super strength and broke something. Sasuke confused over whether to protect Sarada from boys or protect boys from Sarada would be funny. Especially if they have no idea how to tell Naruto that their daughter accidentally broke his son's junk. Like, is that technically treason? - Anon

Author’s Note: So, I think this chapter and the one before kind of fills your prompt? It’s not in my Unplanned or Home ‘verse, but I figured it would fit better in the ANBU ‘verse because it’s kind of a crackish concept. Hope you enjoy it!

First Chapter

Sasuke returns home from a tedious and troublesome parlay in Oto around midnight. Orochimaru is as bizarre as always, megalomania tempered only slightly by his years being a parent. Mitsuki is just as weird, but Sasuke would like to think his friendship with Sarada and Boruto saved him at least the homicidal tendencies.

By the time he returns home, Sasuke is tired and hungry and desperately wants to fall into bed and sleep for a week. Not that it’ll happen, since his wife and daughter are both usually up at the crack of dawn and incapable of being quiet, but a soft mattress is still a nice change from the base of a tree.

He lets himself into the house and heads for the kitchen to fix a snack—something to tide him over until breakfast at least. There’s a note on the table from Sakura to Sarada mentioning a difficult case she’s handling and that there are leftovers in the fridge. The note ends, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch or supper. We can go out! Love Mama’ .

Obviously neither of them was expecting him back yet. He shrugs, knowing it’s his own fault, he should have called, but he dislikes using mobile phones unless he absolutely hast to. The latest models have too many features on them and he’s already set three of his on fire in his frustration at trying to just dial a number.

He’s just removing a Tupperware container of stir-fry, when he hears it. A sound coming from the direction of the bedrooms.

That sounded like a—

He hears it again and tenses.

That was a moan.

All of his muscles lock into place and his gut tightens against a looming sense of dismay. Why is there someone in his house moaning? Sakura is at work, which means—

Horror shoots through him at the exact moment his brain connects the dots, remembering the discovery he and Sakura made two years ago and the ensuing conversation. If his daughter is in her room doing that he needs to leave this house right now and—

This time the moan that echoes through the house is not the sound of his daughter, but decidedly male.

There’s a brief instant where Sasuke sees white in absolute rage and actually contemplates murder, before his good sense returns to temper him.

No. That’s not the answer.

However, Sarada’s behaviour does need to be addressed. It’s one thing to be having sex—he clearly can’t stop that from happening and it his her decision—but this is his house. He is not comfortable with her using it for secret trysts that take advantage of her parents not being here. He’d never even consider such behaviour when he was her age.

Granted, he lived alone, and he and Sakura didn’t have to find a place to have intercourse when the time was right. But still. He would never have thought it was alright to seduce her in her parents’ home. Whether they were home or not! Mebuki would kill him and make it look like a terrible accident.

Sarada’s…partner should know better.

Sasuke decides to have a few words with him, and once he learns the kid’s identity, he’s going to have a sit-down with his parents, too. He’s sure it will be more effective coming from him; Sakura is too open and friendly with matters like this, and might make lighter of it than he would.

And once that’s done, he and Sakura and Sarada are going to have a pointed conversation about boundaries.

He’s never looked forward to a conversation less.

Now the only question is…is it more effective to walk in on them now, or wait until they’re finished and covered up?

As he weighs whose embarrassment of higher priority—his own or his daughter’s, because he honestly doesn’t care about the other male party here—there’s another moan that makes him cringe.

But then it cuts off into a scream.

And it’s not the type of sound one makes in the throes of passion, but a scream of complete and utter agony.

That’s not a good noise. That’s a really, really bad noise.

“Oh, gods, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Let me help, what can I--?!”

“Gaaah! Don’t touch it, don’t…fuck…don’t look it...!”

Another howl of anguish which trails into sobs.

Concerns and logic tossed to the wind, Sasuke has his sword drawn and flash-steps to the door of his daughter’s bedroom and throws open the door.

The room is a disarray of haphazardly thrown clothing and bedsheets, a box of condoms spilled open on the floor as if ripped open in a hurry. (He shudders at this). There’s a familiar figure with blond hair sprawled across his daughter’s bed, tears of pain streaming down his face and howling through gritted teeth. Sarada is crouched beside him in a panic, torn between checking on her partner and scrambling to find a sheet to cover her bare skin with.

“Dad—!”

Sasuke barely notices her squeak of mortification, too focussed on teenaged boy’s sheer suffering and the obvious reason for it.

Because…

Because it’s bent.

In the middle.

She broke Boruto’s bone.

Literally.

It would be humorous if it wasn’t his daughter doing the breaking or his student being the one broken.

“Dad, it was an accident!” Sarada cries, panicked tears running down her cheeks. “We were…and I just…and then I heard this pop, and he—”

Sasuke forces himself to think; once more he is torn between competing inclinations. Get his tearful daughter out of the room and calmed down. Kill the dobe’s idiot son. Call Sakura and demand she handle this because he really doesn’t want to.

Help the poor bastard, because there is no more painful injury for a man to have.

Sasuke grinds his teeth.

Just because his conscience is right, he doesn’t have to like it.

“Cover up,” he says. It’s not clear if he’s asking for Boruto’s or demanding them for Sarada, but either way, both requests are met. Sarada is in a long t-shirt and tosses a blanket over Boruto, because there’s no way he can get dressed in his condition.

All the while, Sarada is muttering to herself under breath.

“I give up…never again…no more boys…!”

Once he would have rejoiced at that notion, if only because he’s always been over protective of his daughter. However, in light of recent events, Sasuke begins to wonder if he’s gotten it wrong all these years. Instead of protecting Sarada from potential paramours, he should be protecting them from her.

Sasuke evaluates the situation once more, trying to decide the best way to move the little idiot, who is writhing back and forth an in danger of knocking loose the sheets.

Taking mercy on him, Sasuke leans forward and sticks him under a genjutsu; Boruto goes completely limp. It won’t take him long to break out of it, but it should offer him some relief.  Once all of him is covered, Sasuke lifts him up and heads for the window.

Luckily, they live close to the hospital. Normally he’d use a portal, but he thinks in tonight’s case, the brat deserves a little jostling, even if he only feels it when he wakes up.

“Call your mother at the hospital, let her know he’ll need help,” he tells her.

“Right,” Sarada agrees faintly, her training kicking back in as her panic recedes.

Sasuke pauses then. He should contact Naruto; if something had happened to Sarada, the dobe would send out rain of toads to get Sasuke the message. Sasuke owes him at least the same courtesy. And then there’s being able to see the look on Naruto’s face when he finds out the root of all this.

Of course…Sasuke would enjoy that look a lot more if he didn’t have to explain just how the Hokage’s son came to have a broken penis.

Hm.

It seems another solution would be better.

“And then you’re going to call your Aunt Hinata and her moron husband and tell them there son is in the hospital,” he concludes firmly.

Sarada goes pale. “What? No, I can’t—!”

“They have a right to know their son is injured. And if they ask how it happened you will tell them. Consider it recompense for your…overzealousness.”

“No way! I can’t…I can’t talk to them about this!”

“You can, and you will.”

“But they don’t…they don’t know. And Boruto says they don’t, you know, talk about this stuff over there.”

Sasuke narrows his eyes. “Isn’t that something you should have discussed before you decided to have intercourse? On the off-chance that you broke something?”

“Oh, like Mama never broke anything of yours!” Sarada protests, frustrated.

“Never my penis,” he replies, which effectively stuns her into silence. He thinks it’s just his exhaustion and absolute doneness with the whole situation that prompted the snide remark, but it gives him the opportunity to slip out the window.

I’m getting too old for this, he sighs as he disappears into the night with the hapless victim of his daughter’s monstrous strength.

つづく

I realise that even the average woman has the power to break a man’s penis depending on the wrong angle or too much force…but then again, this fic was written for laughs not accuracy. I mean, come on, we know Sarada has better control than this, but…gotta love that crack!

クリ

Next Chapter

#naruto fanfiction #sssfamily #sasuke uchiha #sarada uchiha #papasuke #anbu verse #poor judgement #humor #sex humor #bad decisions #painful accidents #learning experiences #boruto uzumaki #the bone that should never be broken #but seriously the little bastard had it coming #family #frank discussions #sex positive upbringing #sasuke gets the last word

[dantesunbreaker]

My Sunshine: Lion x Fem!Reader

This wasn’t a request, I just saw this prompt and really wanted to write something for it. Lion’s singing doesn’t actually translate to the same words as the song in English, but this was something I found on Youtube and I thought it sounded well enough.

At first it didn’t seem like it would be a difficult mission. Simply get in, secure the biohazard container, take out the hostiles, and get out. But nobody was expecting the sheer number of men they had protecting the building. Bullets fly everywhere, explosions go off at a near constant rate all around, and there seems to be no sense of order to the chaos happening around them. It isn’t even possibly to count the deaths and injuries for either side of the fight because there is too much going on.

Y/n doesn’t even remember how it happened, but she ends up lying on the ground with a broken leg that leaves her unable to stand. Painfully she manages to drag herself out of the open to a secluded corner, hoping that it will prove a good hiding spot until one of her teammates can come to her rescue. Not that they will know to come looking for her. Earlier she had been knocked to the ground by an enemy, and her headset and radio were smashed as they struggled against each other. So she is unable to contact anyone. Not that she thinks there will be anyone that can come to save her anyways. It could be that everyone else is in a position very similar to hers.

Leaning back against a wall, Y/n tries to keep her leg immobilized as best as possible. While doing so, she doesn't realize that an enemy has spotted her, and she is completely defenseless as her rifle rests on the ground beside her. It is a rookie mistake. The kind that gets you or even others killed. A bullet hits the ground just inches away from her leg. Y/n knows this won't end well as she looks up to see several terrorists at the end of the corridor aiming down their sights at her. So she closes her eyes, not wanting to see the end.

Several guns fire all at once, the sound echoing around the room. Yet Y/n never feels the biting pain of a bullet. Instead she hears something drop to ground with a heavy thud. Cracking one eye open, Y/n sees the two gunmen lying lifeless on the ground. However, the over six foot tall man standing only a few yards from her with his back towards her truly captures her attention. A whimper leaves her lips as she watches him fall to his knees, rifle dropping from his hands. One of the man’s hands goes to his abdomen.

“Olivier,” Y/n calls softly, voice dripping with worry as she shifts her body in attempt to get closer to him without moving.

Lion shoulders off his large backpack, letting it fall with a thud before he further lowers himself so that he can sit on the ground, legs spread out before him. Turning, he looks over at his lover with a pained smile. There is a large pool of blood across the glaring yellow material of his suit centered around his stomach. She can’t keep herself from letting out a gasp.

“No,” she doesn’t want to believe it. Despite the pain, she pulls herself across the floor to rest beside him, throwing her arms around him tightly. There are tears in her eyes. She knows what this means. “You can’t do this to me, Olivier. Why would you do that? Why would you risk your life like that?”

Even though it brings him more pain, Lion chuckles at her as if she asked the stupidest question he ever heard. “I thought that would be obvious mon amour,” he situates himself so that she can lie comfortably at his side. “I love you. I’d risk anything if it meant you were safe.”

“I’m sorry. I should have done better.” Shaking her head, tears rolling down in rivers over her cheeks, she rests her head against his shoulder. It shouldn’t have to end this way. Whimpers turn into sobs as Y/n tries to curl herself around Lion.

She is afraid to lose him. After all this time together she isn’t sure that she can survive being alone anymore. All the time spent in Lion’s apartment trying to help each other cope with the sins of their pasts would just be a waste. Trembling fingers grip at Lion’s suit, unwilling to let him go.

“Hey, shhh” Lion’s voice is still so soft and soothing as he shushes her, “it’s okay.” One of his hands moves to wipe away her tears, even though more simply take their place. “You’ll be okay mon cher.” He knows that he won’t make it. There is too much blood. If that doesn’t kill him, then he is sure infection will, being certain that some internals were ruptured.

“No, you can’t die on me like this!” Y/n is suddenly in a panic, desperately trying to staunch the blood flow with her hands as she breathes heavy. She won’t let him give up without a fight.

However, Lion moves slowly, grabbing both of her hands in one of his, looking into her eyes with such a peaceful smile. It takes a few seconds, but Y/n eventually understands. Lion has already accepted his fate, and he doesn’t want her to try and help.

“Just breathe,” his voice is so calm, as if he doesn’t know that he is experiencing his last moments of this life. But he does know. In his last moments he wants nothing more than to comfort his lover.

Y/n shouldn’t fear his death. Lion knows that one day they will meet again in another life, in a better place that is unhindered by the pain of this world. Doing his best, he manages to sit himself up against a wall, pulling Y/n carefully into his lap. She looks so small and delicate in his arms. Numbness has spread up his limbs, making it difficult to move, but he does his best to hold her tightly against his chest. It feels like his touch is feather light, unable to actually keep her in place with his own strength, but Y/n holds herself in the position.

When her tears still do not stop, Lion presses the lightest kiss against her temple as he parts his lips. “Tu es mon soleil, mon petit soleil,” he starts to sing softly, recalling the tune of a song she once sang to him. “Tu rends heureuse quand je suis triste.”

It doesn’t stop the tears, in fact it makes them come faster. Yet she presses her face against his chest and wraps her arm around his waist, holding him as tight as she can. It doesn’t hurt. He can’t really feel anything anymore, but he appreciates the gesture. Lion continues to sing, even when it begins to grow difficult to carry on the tune. He can feel his energy slowly drain away with each passing moment, but he stays strong for Y/n.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” Y/n shifts a little in his arms before she begins to sing along with him, looking up to see the soft smile on his face. “You make me happy when skies are gray,” she continues to sing even after his eyes close and his own singing stops. “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” As she finishes, she rests her head over his chest, sobbing as she listens to the silence.

Hours have likely passed by the time everything has calmed down, the mission over and the terrorists eliminated. Thatcher is the one to walk down the secluded corridor is search of the missing operators, spying their crumpled forms in the middle of the hall. It isn’t until he gets closer that he realizes what he is seeing. As much as he may have not liked Lion, it doesn’t keep him from feeling the pain of loss. The man was young. Too young to die like this. Y/n was too young to have to lose someone like that as well.

“Come on, Imma get you outta here,” Thatcher kneels down beside them, looking Y/n in the eyes, noting the dried tears along her cheeks. “We’ve got a medic on standby that can take care of that leg for ya.”

Gently, Thatcher has to untangle Y/n from Lion’s stiffened limbs in order to lift her off his body and hoist her up into his own arms. She makes a strangled moan of discomfort, but then presses a hand flat against the older man’s chest, asking him to wait.

“We can’t leave him here,” Y/n’s voice is dry and cracked, the words making her throat hurt just to say. But she won’t leave unless Lion goes too.

Thatcher has removed his mask, so Y/n can see the serious look in his eyes as he looks directly at her. “I’ll come back for him, I promise. First I need to get ya out of here though.” She gives a nod, resting her head against his shoulder. The look in his eyes told her that he would keep his word.

She has cried too much to have any tears left, but she watches as Lion’s crumpled form slowly fades from view as she is carried away. The pain in her chest is something she has never experienced before, and she wishes that it would simply go away. Why was life so cruel to take the life of a man she loved so dearly?

The funeral happens only a few days later. Everyone comes, including Doc, and even Claire and Lion’s son, Alexis. Y/n pays them no mind though. She sits beside Montagne during the ceremony, holding his hand tightly in both of hers, leaning her head against his shoulder for comfort as she tries to hold back tears. As things wrap up, and people prepare to depart, Montagne helps Y/n stand, seeing as her leg is wrapped in a cast. Softly she hums under her breath as she places a flower over Lion’s casket.

#rainbow six siege x reader #rainbow six siege fanfic #rainbow six siege #r6s #r6siege #lion x reader #lion #r6s lion

[mothermaidenclone-blog]

Avengers: Infinity War or Just by Force of Numbers This Has to Work out, Right?

I had my trepidations about Avengers: Infinity War; there were so many characters to squeeze in that I worried a cameo-fest might take the place of a cogent plot My fears, however, were unfounded, as I felt the story held together well and the characters’ interactions were a good balance between genuinely personal and goofy one liners. The women - although vastly outnumbered, there are roughly three times as many named male characters as female - continue to be the strong heroes we know and love.

*Avengers: Infinity War spoilers follow*

Perhaps most prominent of the female line up is Gamora (Zoe Saldana). Once again, she demonstrates a variety of admirable qualities, including martial prowess and perhaps the most pragmatism out of any of the Avengers - she is quick to break up the man-off between Peter Quill (Chris Pratt) and Thor (Chris Hemsworth) by reminding them that the whole universe is at stake; “Enough! We need to stop Thanos.” Gamora also demonstrates incredible strength of will and appreciation of the greater good, she possesses secret knowledge that could endanger everybody if Thanos (Josh Brolin) finds out, so she makes Peter promise to kill her rather than let her be captured. To do this, she holds Peter to the most powerful force she can think of, a female entity, the memory of his mother. Gamora is willing to sacrifice herself to protect innocent lives, and her only motivation that outweighs this is her love for her sister, Nebula (Karen Gillan). The sight of Nebula being tortured is the only thing powerful enough to move Gamora to divulging her secret.

Unfortunately, Gamora meets a tragic and untimely demise at the hands of Thanos. Even worse than dying so a man can have something to be sad about, she is murdered so a man can obtain mystical powers to use for evil. Gallant to the end, once Gamora realises Thanos’ intentions, she tries to kill herself so that his sacrifice will fail. Her death is all the more heartbreaking seeing as she has spent two films escaping, recovering and developing from not only the stigma of being Thanos’ adopted daughter, but also all the trauma she suffered at his hands. So, to be murdered by him out of a deluded sense of him mistaking a lifetime of abuse for love is such a cruel end for a magnificent and accomplished hero.

Nebula herself contributes a little to the good fight, violently despatching a few goons, but as far as the space-faring women of this film go, Mantis (Pom Klementieff) definitely comes in second after Gamora in terms of prominence. She is also one of the two female characters who have actual super powers - she is an empath and can manipulate people’s mental states to a certain extent, such as sending people to sleep. It was good to see her as the lynchpin of a plan, and not the butt of a joke, as she is one of the few characters who has any effect at all against Thanos, controlling his mind for an impressive amount of time. Mantis is also a source of comedy in Avengers: Infinity War, sometimes slightly at her expense, for example when she messes up the line, “We came to kick names and take ass,” but sometimes innocently too. One of my favourite moments was Mantis serenely enjoying the simple pleasure of low gravity in the background of a shot.

The only other female character with super powers is Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch (Elizabeth Olsen). She is portrayed as one of the most powerful characters in the films - the only one with the ability to destroy an infinity stone for example. She is also one of only two characters with the strength of will to kill a person she cares for deeply to keep Thanos from finding an infinity stone - Peter Quill is the other, but his assassination attempt is thwarted by Thanos. This is no mean feat, as her target, Vision (Paul Bettany), is not only her lover, but one of the few individuals on Earth who is as far from being a normal human as she is. Prior to this, Wanda not only has the capability to protect Vision in battle, but also to heal his wounds. Other than Thor, who is a literal god, and Thanos, who has a magical glove with the six most powerful objects in the universe stuck to it, she performs some of the most impressive feats in Avengers: Infinity War.

Other female characters openly admire Wanda’s talents; when she enters the fray in Wakanda and displays what she is capable of, General Okoye (Danai Gurira) exclaims, “Why was she up there this whole time?” Furthermore, Okoye and Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) support Wanda in combat. It filled me with joy to hear Natasha proclaim, “She’s not alone,” as she joins in the battle against one of the children of Thanos. It was a little strange how the fighting seemed to be gendered: female characters mostly only battled the one female child of Thanos, Proxima Midnight (Carrie Coon). As a side note, I did have to look her name up as I don’t believe it’s said out loud in the film, which is dumb, because it’s a very cool villain name. Also, the ratio of male to female children of Thanos introduced in this film was also 3:1. Proxima is portrayed as a strong and loyal adversary, her design as an alien was visually interesting and I think she was the last goon standing - the sheer number of different concurrent battles and the three toilet breaks my broken body had to take during this movie confused the timeline somewhat, so feel free to correct me if I’m wrong about that.

Natasha mostly showcases her multitude of combat skills in this film, which are undeniably remarkable, but we see very little of any other side to her. A slight nod to her brief romantic involvement with Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) is the only glimpse to another side to her personality that we get. I do appreciate that this is a very ambitious ensemble movie, and that some male characters, for example Sam Wilson aka Falcon (Anthony Mackie), receive similar sidelining treatment. Speaking of romance, there does seem to be a need to couple everyone off - Peter Quill and Gamora unquestionably confess their love out loud and Wanda and Vision are established lovers since we last saw them. Part of this is natural character development, but I can’t help but imagine the vast, corporate hand of Marvel picking up its action figures, smushing them together and demanding, “Now you kiss, and you kiss.”

A good example of a woman who does manage to show different facets of herself in the limited screen time she has is Okoye. As previously mentioned, she is an adept soldier and remains a loyal general to T’Challa aka Black Panther (Chadwick Boseman), but she also has a sense of humour. She is responsible for one of the moments that made me chuckle, confessing that her expectations regarding a public Wakanda were different to reality and included, “The Olympics, maybe even a Starbucks.”

Okoye’s fellow Wakandan, Shuri (Letitia Wright), princess and chief scientist - what a combo - also makes a reappearance. Once agin, she does not have a huge amount of screen time, but in it she accomplishes the notable feat of establishing herself as possibly the most intelligent person and distinguished scientist in the MCU. She forces Bruce Banner to admit that he and Tony Stark (Robert Downey Jr.), arguably the previous holders of that title, didn’t use her more effective solution to a problem because they, “Didn’t think of that.”

One final named female character makes an appearance in Avengers: Infinity War, although she is the first one we see on screen. The long suffering Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow). Pepper makes a very brief appearance alongside Tony, reasserting her position as probably the most sensible, level headed and pragmatic individual - characteristics that could easily be underestimated in a universe of ridiculous super heroes. She successfully talks the somewhat manic Tony down from thinking they should have a child, arguing - quite rightly - that having a dream about becoming a parent is not a good enough reason to actually do so and basically that Tony can’t be trusted to be enough of a normal, sensible human to be a father.

It should also be noted that many of these women don’t make it out of Avengers: Infinity War alive, what with Thanos instantaneously disintegrating half of the population of the universe and all that. I’d like to point out the alarming order in which we see people die: Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan), a physically disabled - if not possibly ageless - and deeply traumatised man; T’Challa, a black man; Groot (Vin Diesel), a non-human alien; Wanda, a woman; Sam Wilson, a black man; Mantis, a female alien; Drax (Dave Bautista), a non-human alien and then finally three able bodied, white, human men - Peter Quill, Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) and Peter Parker aka Spider-Man (Tom Holland). We also see Agent Maria Hill (Colbie Smulders) and Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) - you guessed it, another woman and black man - disintegrate in the post-credits scene. I just wanted to take you on the emotional roller coaster that I went on, when I thought we’d just be left with mostly white dudes for the sequel. I doubt that any of these characters are permanently dead, as Marvel has many more money-spinning movies up its sleeve, and I’m willing to bet they wouldn’t do away with so many lucrative franchising opportunities in one go. Hopefully, the same can be said of Gamora - I’m already working on a theory that she is the soul inside the soul stone and, when the time is right, will somehow escape and be the one to end Thanos. Just floating some ideas about, Marvel, feel free to use them.

Overall, despite battling a terrible gender ratio on top of the forces of evil, the women in Avengers: Infinity War showcase an incredible smorgasbord of wondrous attributes between them, including: martial prowess, empathic talents, the weaponisation of pure energy, scientific aptitude, humour, loyalty, common sense, healing powers and selflessness to name but a few. They are exemplary heroes who mange to stand out and hold their own in an overwhelmingly large ensemble cast, in which they are vastly outnumbered by men. I’m just still pissed off about Gamora’s death though - can we not reward triumphant survivors of trauma with murder at the hands of their abusers, please?

And now for some asides

I love how much all of the Guardians of the Galaxy characters, regardless of gender or species, completely adored Thor - he is like a pirate had a baby with an angel!

The continuity of Rocket’s (Bradley Cooper) obsession with prosthetics is beautiful, it’s so good that it was actually useful in this film, and the plot I’m most excited about in the sequel - other than resurrecting all the ladies please - is will Rocket ever get Bucky’s arm? The people demand to know!

My favourite part of this whole film was the sign that said, “We will deep fry your kebab,” in the Scottish chippie.

#avengers #avengers infinity war #sci-fi #scifi #science fiction #super hero #marvel #MCU #film re #movie review #feminism #Zoe Saldana #gamora #Chris Hemsworth #thor #Chris Pratt #peter quill #star lord #Josh Brolin #thanos #karen gillan #nebula #Pom Klementieff #mantis #Elizabeth Olsen #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #paul bettany #vision #Danai Gurira

[thokage-archive]

i'll bite, what's your opinion on BAKUGOU KATSUKI

BITCH IM READY 2 GOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

FIRST OF ALL……,,,,, SWEATEAL,

THATS MY SON! I WOULD D I E FOR HIM.

secondly, he is an extremely complex character & I beg all Bakugou haters to read what I’m about to write. I don’t think anyone needs to love him or kiss his ass by any means, let alone excuse his behavior towards Izuku. BUT! I beg of you to have some empathy for a fucking 15-year-old boy that has been through hell & back, is clearly emotionally stunted, obviously grew up in an emotionally manipulative, verbally abusive, and very likely, physically abusive household. 

As someone who was raised in a household like that, and as someone who was both the bully & bullied growing up, I just need you to understand how complex he is & that he is worthy of redemption!!! (after all, he is a child, he should be granted the opportunity to grow & learn from his mistakes. I don’t think people should give up on him just yet, lord knows where I would be if the people in my life had given up on me at 15). 

Deadass though…. let’s get into his fucking problems™ first because I am the last person on earth to act like he is perfect. 

#1 problem - extreme anger issues

It’s made clear from the start of the series that Bakugou expresses himself best through anger and violence, something he obviously learned from his mother. Horikoshi, in fact, has SAID that him & Mitsuki are essentially the same person. So can we all just take a fucking moment & imagine Bakugou as a parent…. imagine someone with that type of irrational & immature anger parenting a child. How tf do you think that kid is going to turn out? How does a kid being raised by a verbally abusive parent grow up?

Well!!! Luckily, this series provides us with two very good examples,

a) bakugou katsuki

while on the opposite end of the spectrum is 

 b)  todoroki shouto. 

Everyone deals with abuse in different ways, especially different types of abuse. While Bakugou is dealing with abuse by taking his anger & projecting it out, therefore reflecting his abuser, Todoroki internalizes all of his emotions & is extremely distant and at times submissive for fear of punishment.

Bakugou wards off his weakness/being punished by his mother for being weak, by expressing brute strength through his anger & aggressiveness, thinking of things such as friends and feelings (other than anger) as weak. Todoroki hides his weaknesses from Endeavor by closing off his emotions from him completely, so much so that he is emotionally/socially stunted.

In short

Bakugou’s emotionally stuntedness = lifetime of anger being his only coping mechanism/outlet & a huge failure on his parent’s part to foster any other sort of emotions 

todoroki’s emotionally stuntedness = lifetime of repressing all of his emotions from his father coupled with a lack of social interaction from peers

In both of their households….

losing = weakness

being #2 = weakness 

emotional vulnerability = weakness

all of these weaknesses = punishable by verbal & physical means

The reasons why people respond the way they do to abuse is very varied. My best guess for why Bakugou responds the way he does leads me to problem #2

#2 problem - His Huge Ass Ego/Superiority Complex

Bakugou is…. a perfectionist. Much like Momo & Iida (he is behind only them in terms of class rank) meaning not only is he a huge physical threat, but also incredibly smart & a very hard worker in all aspects of his schooling. He takes his future as a hero very very seriously, just as serious as Midoriya or Todoroki. He very clearly feels a lot of pressure from his parents & other adults in his life to do well & succeed due to the flashiness of his quirk. Even at four when his quirk manifested all people could talk about was how cool it was & how lucky he was to have it, therefore gassing him up & already inflating his 4-year-old head. 

All of the adults around him expected him to grow up and make something great of himself at only age 4, so he has quite literally been feeling that pressure for his entire life, at least as long as he can remember, which created this giant ego of his. 

(ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT ADULTS & PEERS ONLY GIVING A FUCK ABOUT BAKUGOU QUITE LITERALLY FOR HIS BODY. LIKE…. GENUINELY ONLY FINDING HIM WORTHY OF BEING A HERO BECAUSE OF HIS QUIRK BEING “COOL”. BECAUSE IF THAT DONT FUCK WITH YOU GROWING UP, WHAT DOES???)

Now his ego, in terms of how he responds to things, is why he most likely does not recognize what he is going through as abuse. And we all know that from ego, stems immense pride, and Bakugou would be far too proud to admit he was being abused IF he recognized his abuse, therefore he would not seek help for it, or vent / open up to anyone about it. But his ego is also part of the reason why he doesn’t recognize what he is going through as abuse. Admitting, even to himself, that he is abused would seem weak to him. He would have to admit he is not perfect, nor is his home life. He would have to admit that it has affected him, and he would most likely view that as a flaw or defect in his personality. He would never want to be viewed as a victim. (hint hint, how did he handle being called the “victim” of the sludge monster incident? He doesn’t want anyone pitying him or trying to save him from anything. He wants to handle things on his own & thinks of it was weakness to seek out help)

He also uses his superiority complex as a defense mechanism. For example, he overhears Todoroki talking about Endeavor with Midoriya the day of the sports festival right? And he later tells Todoroki that he doesn’t care about his home life and that he should still give it his all against him. This is because Bakugou probably realizes subconsciously that he too has been through some shit with his parents (not necessarily recognizing it as abuse, but not what all other kids go through) & yet he gives it his all. He almost says this as if to prove to himself that he hasn’t let what he has gone through affect him. He thinks it has made him stronger & that he will beat Todoroki despite his hardships, therefore proving him to be superior. When Todoroki decides to not use his flames at the last second it sends Bakugou into a rage because he believes Todoroki finds him unworthy of his full power. He thinks Todoroki is looking down on him, seeing him as weak, and just embarrassed him in front of thousands of people. (This is, by the way, the second time we see Bakugou lose it over the prospect of him not being better than his classmates).

The FIRST time we see it is when he and Midoriya fight one another on opposing teams for All might’s Class. He believes himself to be better than all of his peers & he is absolutely CRUSHED when he discovers that perhaps that isn’t so. After Midoriya fights him and wins, his spirit is broken. We see him retreat to the back of the class & silently watch as the other teams face off. 

His world is actively falling apart around him. For so long he was a big fish in a little pond. He was popular, he was powerful, he was looked up to and admired by adults and peers for his strength. He was talked up so high & told he was so special that for him to be anything other than the best was unthinkable. And yet, here was his childhood rival beating him in a test of strength and wits in front of their mentor and idol. And immediately following him was the son of the #2 hero showing his own display of brute strength & passing All Might’s test without batting an eye through the sheer power of his quirk

Bakugou is so incredibly saddened and shocked by the experience that he gives up, which is something he has never done in his entire life. Midoriya has to walk out after him once the test is over and ask him why he’s leaving, at which point Bakugou confesses, with tears in his eyes, crying, showing weakness in front of Deku, that he cannot keep up. That for once he is below someone and he cannot handle the feeling of failure that accompanies him not being number one. 

He gets over this, being motivated by both Midoriya & All Might to continue. But nonetheless, this is the first instance we see of Bakugou showing genuine fear & hopelessness for his future because he realizes he is not as great as he thinks he is. For him, there is no greater fear for him to face than for him to acknowledge the fact he is not perfect. He is flawed, there are things for him to learn and people he must learn them from and experiences he must go through before he can be number one, and that reality terrifies him. He sees it as nothing but endless opportunities for him to fail. So he determinedly puts on a brave face and screams at Midoriya and All Might that he will be number one no matter what it takes, that he will rise above everyone, even if it kills him. (Which of course it damn near does considering he is fucking kidnapped by villains impressed with his strength/power)

NOW ON TO THE ABUSE PART OF ALL THIS BECAUSE HOLY FUCK I CANT BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE GENUINELY OUT THERE SAYING THIS AINT ABUSE & WRITING WHOLE ASS ESSAYS TO DISPROVE MITSUKI AS AN ABUSER  ONLY SO THEY CAN WRITE HIM OFF AS A ONE DIMENSIONAL CHARACTER/ASSHOLE TROPE

Abuse is not only physical, and to dismiss emotional/mental abuse as not “real” abuse or merely “tough love” makes you an abuse apologist, sorry not sorry. 

The feeling I get from the few interactions we’ve had with Mitsuki, and the times Bakugou has mentioned his home life, is that the abuse he faces is overwhelmingly mental/emotional. He does, however, suffer some physical abuse too, which is essentially confirmed in this new chapter, it’s just unlike the abuse Todoroki suffers from. 

Todoroki’s abuse is blatant, its beatings, starvation, intense physical regimes, etc. The abuse Bakugou suffers is far more subtle and sadly enough, far more common. The abuse he is subjected too is what most of y’alls parents probably just call “good parenting” or parenting the old fashioned way, aka when most peoples parents were shit & everyone thought it was cool to beat their kids into submission & scream at them for hours and hours over simple things. (Sadly, a product of hypermasculinity and misogyny being the overarching influences in parenting tactics, especially in households with a male head. In this case, however, Mitsuki, a woman, is the abuser. So most of y’all tryna ignore it like women can’t be abusive, or violent how men can).

Her physical abuse most likely differs drastically from Endeavors as well. Parents who genuinely believe themselves to not be abusive, but just tough on their kids because they love them or whatever, rarely hit their kids as openly as Endeavor hits Todoroki. We see her slap him on the back of the head, which in another situation & with more context, could be taken as playful, not abusive. But again, all depending on the force of the hit, the intent behind it, how often these sorts of things, occur, and if Bakugou is comfortable with it. How he responds indicates that he does not like it. Therefore she is laying her hands on him in a violent manner, obviously without consent. 

A parent or not, “disciplining” your child or not, that is wrong. And I’m more than positive it happens frequently and in different ways after the new chapter. She is most likely a believer in spanking, which do NOT even get me started on that (my parents literally used to tell me I was fucking lucky to get beat with a belt and not an electric cord), spanking is abuse and I don’t wanna fucking hear it isn’t. You shouldn’t feel the need to beat your kids in any way shape or form to get them to listen to you. She also probably digs her nails into his arm or some shit when he says something she doesn’t like in public, or just generally is rough with him when she disagrees. 

Mentally/emotionally she does not come off as the type to apologize to a child, admit she is wrong to a child, or have a rational conversation with her child rather than beating them. Again, since when has Bakugou himself ever done those things? (and according to Horikoshi, we all know he is a carbon copy of her before entering yuuei). 

Gaslighting is when the abuser places blame on a victim by making them question themselves or attributing the situation to some imaginary fault of the victim. In this instance Mitsuki blames Bakugou for his own kidnapping, calling on his supposed weakness as the source of the problem.

She not only BLAMES Bakugou for his kidnapping, calling him weak and pathetic, but does so in front of his teachers, his idols, degrading him in front of the very people he wants to impress. And for someone like Bakugou, that is probably one of the biggest hits his ego can take and it is most likely killing him inside from shame and embarrassment. 

In fact, I KNOW it is because we later see him TELL Midoriya that he blames himself for All Might’s fall. He thinks he was too weak to handle the villains and so he had to be saved (something he hates having to admit) which lead to All Might’s battle with All for One and eventual retirement as a hero. He literally takes his mothers words and internalizes them to the point of breaking & then expresses them the only way he knows how: violence, by fighting Midoriya. 

So not only do we have concrete evidence of emotionally abusing him by calling him names intended to hurt him, but also of her mentally abusing him by placing the blame on him, causing him to question himself & his capabilities/role in the situation. She makes him genuinely believe that he should have been able to do something about the traumatic experience of being kidnapped by a group of known murders…. uuuuuhhhh does that scream totally normal parent to you? She is not even remotely concerned for his safety…. only how it looks, only with how weak he is. Does that um, cough cough endeavor cough, remind you of anyone? No? Okay. 

Which back to Bakugou and Todoroki, this new chapter killed me because Todoroki is a sweetheart and he really knows what he went through was fucked up. I can see him trying to get Bakugou to understand in the future that violence is not the way to get what you want in life, no matter how small the act, hurting someone, emotionally, mentally, or physically is not how you get people to do what you want or agree with you. Even though that’s all Bakugou has ever known, he just never recognized it as morally wrong the way Todoroki did, most likely because it was much more subtle & normalized in Bakugou’s household.

That all being said…. Bakugou has made many mistakes and I’m not kidding when I say he is a carbon copy of Mitsuki. I don’t want to go so far as to call what he does to Midoriya abuse because that implies a fundamental misunderstanding of his character in my opinion, but like…. bottom line… he abuses & bullies Midoriya severely. 

Bakugou is a classic case of an abuse victim turning into an abuser. However, he is a child, unlike Mitsuki. He was raised by someone who taught him that abuse is okay and normal. He has not yet matured or been able to view life through any other lenses. His parents have failed in teaching him healthy coping mechanisms, other adult influences in his life, such as previous teachers, have never discouraged his behavior either, therefore he merely copies what he knows. So I understand him not knowing any other ways to deal with someone like Midoriya, his antithesis, and rival. 

In sociology this semester we learned about a famous poem by Dr. Dorothy Law Nolte, a family counselor & writer. The poem focuses on the ways in which children develop due to what circumstances they are raised under. It goes like this: 

(Lines bolded reminded me most of Bakugou, lines italicized reminded me most of Izuku, lines with both… reminded me of both)

If children live with criticism, They learn to condemn.

If children live with hostility, They learn to fight.

If children live with ridicule, They learn to be shy.

If children live with shame, They learn to feel guilty.

If children live with encouragement, They learn confidence.

If children live with tolerance, They learn to be patient.

If children live with praise, They learn to appreciate.

If children live with acceptance, They learn to love.

If children live with approval, They learn to like themselves.

(Full poem)

I kid you not in the middle of class all I could think of was Bakugou and Midoriya and how this poem so beautifully contrasted and compared them.

Midoriya is the exact opposite of Bakugou. Where Bakugou is strong, powerful, fierce, influential, popular, admired, confident, loud & aggressive. Midoriya is weak, small, quirkless, quiet, timid, mumbling & stuttering, friendless, self-conscious, and not very vocal. They are completely different in all aspects, Midoriya represents everything Bakugou strives to not be. He is useless, weak in Bakugou’s eyes. Something he has been told his whole life to not be, and thus he does not want to associate with Midoriya. 

However, the thing that scares Bakugou most about Midoriya is how much they can relate. They were, after all, friends. Best friends as children, they had the same dreams and shared common interests. Their similarities are only on display even more so as they both get into yuuei and progress throughout the year. 

One of the most important moments in Bakugou’s life is when Midoriya reaches out to Bakugou after he falls. Midoriya the small, shy, quirkless kid, asks if Bakugou, the great, powerful, destined to be a hero kid, needs his help. As if that is something he would even want, let alone need. 

I’m sorry but no 5 year old is going to get an idea like that on his own, you can see where Mitsuki’s thinking has already taken root, whereas Inko’s teachings have taken root in Midoriya. Up until this point in time, Bakugou was content with just allowing Midoriya to tag along with him, be a follower, quirkless or not. But this instance Bakugou clearly saw as a challenge for leadership, a questioning of authority. At five years old, he is already so distrusting of the sincere intentions of those surrounding him that he makes it his mission to let Midoriya know that he is above him and will not be surpassed by someone so weak.

It just makes me so fucking sad to see how twisted Bakugou’s logic is due to Mitsuki & the constant almost coddling of his ego that adults in his life have encouraged endlessly. It really isn’t until he meets Aizawa that an adult makes an effort to change that mindset in him. And slowly but surely, along with the help of Bakugou’s probably first real genuine friends that he views as equals and not just tagalongs, he is beginning to change his thinking & learn from his mistakes. Kirishima, Sero, Kaminari, and Ashido are all a wonderful influence on him and I genuinely think with their advice & trust he will be able to change his ways in the future, along with the guidance of All Might and Aizawa. 

And let’s not forget Midoriya, he needs to apologize to him, sincerely, and because he wants to, not because he is pressured into it by anyone. I have high hopes for him and his future relationship with Midoriya, but I don’t think it’ll be possible for them to be best friends again. I just hope Bakugou can realize that he was wrong for treating Midoriya the way he did when they were growing up and can put aside his ego for five minutes to correct his wrongs as best he can. I’m sure it will be in the far far future though because he still has a lot of growing and learning to do. No one is going to just be able to put aside an almost decade-long hatred for someone & admit they were in the wrong, over the course of a year. But still… I have hopes.

All in all, I really really love Bakugou. I have some extremely parental feelings towards him having seen all the shit he has gone through & the many failings he has endured from the adults surrounding him. I just want for him to embrace his friends and place at yuuei and change his behaviors so that he can be easier on himself & others. He deserves to feel that sort of peace.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. Bakugou Katsuki is deserving of love, friends, second chances, and a shot at redemption. 

#mellypan #asks #kaitlyn talks #thank you for sending me this it took two hours to write lmao #i just love my boy #i reread it like a million times because it felt like i was forgetting things #it still does tbh #i could write about 6 books on why i love bakugou #but alas who hath the time for that #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #abuse // #abuse / #abuse tw #mentions of abuse #child abuse #domestice abuse #mentl abuse #emotional abuse #i dont know what other abuse tw to tag this with #yall got so many its insane #gaslighting #parental abuse #also I took an hour break to go drive around & scream with all my windows down before writing this #i was too mad when i started it was jsut key smashing & nonsense lmao

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My Hero Academia, season 2 - Episode 37

Man, I would love to be able to afford and justify a good photo printer…

Anyways, it’s My Hero Academia, episode 37! Here we GO!

-We begin, exactly with Deku and Katsuki stepping into the arena…And Katsuki is fucking furious about Deku stealing his movements. Furious enough that any concept of teamwork is just entirely outside of his head, as he marches forward to face down All Might, and Deku reluctantly has to follow…

-Opening!

-Episode 37: Bakugo Katsuki: Origin

-And the match is on! Deku’s trying to figure out how to talk to Katsuki, to figure out something approaching a plan that doesn’t involve just directly throwing themselves against literally the most powerful and famous hero in the country. …So how well do you think that’s going, exactly? You have three guesses.

-Yeah it’s going badly. Super badly. Because Katsuki is somehow convinced he can pummel Japan’s number one hero. You’re sixteen, you can’t even drink yet and you think your boom boom hands are enough to take on—

-…Okay so Katsuki just backhanded Deku to the ground. I will just say I am glad that the teachers are acknowledging that this kid is on the bad path, because he is so very much on the bad path.

-And that’s when Deku finally starts to push back, to try and get it through Katsuki’s thick fucking skull that the way they’re acting right now will mean they fail the goddamned test buuuut that’s when All Might throws one of those punches that literally bowls them over from the wind off of it. The footbridge over them breaks. The windows of all the buildings shatter, and they buckle in sheer terror…

-Because All Might steps up, firmly playing the role of a villain, with his strength not a symbol of peace, but a weapon to intimidate and spark fear in the heart of these children.

-Sheer stubborn will keeps Katsuki on his feet, and he kicks off his Stun Grenade mini-pops to get himself in close! Well, close enough to get his face grabbed by All Might…And again that stubborn will, because Katsuki does not care that All Might could literally squish his skull like a grape, he just pours on the kabooms. It would almost be impressive if it didn’t suggest that he has tunnel vision worse than…Look I don’t have any other comparisons, it’s that bad.

-He gets put on the ground, and then All Might stares Deku down, because do you intend to abandon your teammate, young man? The memory of Stain just slams into Deku’s psyche at the very suggestion, and he’s got Full Cowling up before he even realizes it, leaping back to get some room…Only to run into Katsuki, who was trying to come back in for another round.

-And Katsuki, yeah, he’s just full of nothing but fury and hatred. He’s put far too much of his self-identity and self worth into his ability to Win, and now he’s up against an opponent he might not be able to beat. Oh, and to make the odds worse for him, All Might rips out some safety rails and uses them to pin Deku to the ground, so now it’s just him and Katsuki. Katsuki, who gets punched hard enough that his lunch sprays across the field in mid flight.

-A flashback. Deku hanging out with Katsuki when they were little kids, and Katsuki looked up to All Might almost as much as Deku did…Finding him amazing, his power and skill and ability to always win…

-The resulting ferocity and will is why Deku admired Katsuki for so long. Why he’s always been trying to catch up to the explosive lad.

-Meanwhile, as Katsuki tries to get back to his feet, All Might knows what it’s like to lose. To feel so desperately that you’re right, yet to fail nonetheless. It’s frightening. Turns the legs to jelly. He asks you, to what end? Dread it. Run from it. Destiny arrives all the same. And now, it’s here. Or should he say, he is here.

-Okay he didn’t actually quote Thanos but I’m not the only one getting those vibes from villain All Might, right? Actually, he mostly pegs Katsuki’s frustration at Deku’s sudden growth, and tries to remind the kid that the greatest improvement comes at the start, and that Katsuki has tons of room to grow into a great man, someone worthy of his power…So how well do you think that’s working? As per usual with Katsuki, the answer is “poorly”. He intends to either win alone, or lose, because relying on Deku’s help is worse than defeat…I will remind you from the screen cap, he is saying all this while still having a face coated in his own vomit. Right then, time to put you out of your misery.

-Except Deku gets Full Cowling up, pushing himself out of that pin…And dives in…Driving a punch right into…

-Katsuki’s jaw! And while the stupid idiot is too staggered to resist, he grabs Katsuki up and hauls him into the alleyways, getting some actual distance…And now, at least, Katsuki is too battered to fight back too badly when Deku tries to talk to him. Kacchan, you’ve NEVER been one to back down! You’ve NEVER been okay with losing! You stared down kids twice your size and twice your age, you aimed for the top since they were kindergarteners! If you’d rather lose than accept help, even if it’s from Deku, then…What the hell’s the point of being here?

-And Katsuki’s furious enough to explode the wall right next to Deku’s head. But even through his anger, he starts to put together a proper plan. All Might is too fast to outrun, and the gate is too open to sneak their way through. And he barely even flinched when Katsuki tried to use anything less than a full force blast on him. Which means there’s only one way out of this arena with their lives, and grades, intact.

-Cut to All Might trying to figure out where the hell those two got off to. Are they going for the gate…?

-And then, just as he passes by their alleyway hiding spot, Katsuki leaps out with explosions! Hard and fast ones, to keep All Might guessing, and not noticing…When Deku leaps out with one of Katsuki’s gauntlet, the emitter fully soaked in boom-juice! Katsuki leaps out of the way, Deku pulls the pin, and it ALL pours out, the sheer kinetic force enough to nearly dislocate Deku’s shoulder! Good god, you’re firing something like this on a regular basis?! LESS TALKING MORE ESCAPING

-Katsuki’s furious, embittered to have to claim victory like this, but it’s also the only path they can see…

-Back as the smoke clears, All Might’s in one piece despite that explosion, but he’s putting together what they did. A compromise plan that managed to make him stagger, while still escaping a situation they had no hope of handling long-term. And because of where they went for it, they limited further damage to the rest of the city by only kicking off that huge explosion in a place already wrecked. It’s clever, quick, and used the lessons they’ve gathered…On paper, it’s all fantastic. Quite frankly, their only problem is eachother.

-All Might doesn’t know the details, but he can tell they both have a lot of shit they need to work out…One day, they’ll hopefully be able to stand side by side. But for now, even though they managed to aggravate his injury…He’s got to do his best to push them to their absolute limits!

-They’re almost to the gate. They can see it…As well as the fact that All Might’s one punch(dun dun dun dun dun dun, three two one killshot) managed to blow out the faux buildings all the way to the edge of the arena. God DAMN. That’s the kind of power they’re up against…

-Anyways, that’s about when All Might catches up, and in two quick blows he takes out both of Katsuki’s gauntlets, then he sends the kid into a building, and when he comes back, he just knocks him into the ground with Deku. God DAMN! Soon they’re both struggling and weak, and having their pride rubbed into their face…

-As Katsuki really, truly internalizes the idea of what he’s facing. All Might is not just Japan’s number one hero. Heroes of other nations might match his results, but that’s not all it is. All Might is a symbol. The strongest hero in the world. The highest achievement humanity has. The highest wall for Katsuki to try and overcome. That’s what he’s up against. He’s up against the literal peak. His someday goal is right here in front of him, driving a boot into his spine.

-Meawhile Deku is dangling from All Might’s grip, and what’s with that look of fear, boy? He throws Deku down, and makes something clear. Your plan was fine. Excellent, even. But you lost the one tool you had. It’s over.

-And then Katsuki kicks off all the boom he has in one arm. Enough to force All Might off of him, and kick up a huge amount of dust, even as it feels like he might have broken something…He grabs Deku up by his chin-guard, and get ready, you’re going for a ride! While the dust is still thick and before All Might can see what’s going on, he sends Deku for an explosion-enhanced throw for the gate! Make it, you stupid nerd!

-Deku’s careening through the air, eyes on the gate. If he can just get out, he might be able to make this work…That’s all he has to do is escape, pass through the barrier, he can do this, they can—

-NEW HAMPSHIRE SMASH! All Might uses the sheer force of his own punch to send him barreling into Deku, dislocating bones the young man didn’t know he had on impact, and sending him full force into a bus…

-Until Katsuki catches up, and one thing’s clear. His gauntlet’s emitters aren’t about putting out more firepower than he’s normally capable of. They’re about doing it safely, repeatedly, without…

-Well.

-Without doing to his arms, what he’s about to do. As he pours everything both arms have out against All Might, a mega explosion that has him in utter agony, but he’s still in one piece, as he tries to hold the line! GET THROUGH YOU FUCKER

-And Deku’s in utter agony, but he’s got to make it. It’s the only option on the board…He starts to draw up Full Cowling, not to make the run but just to make his legs work…And to make himself noticeable, a big target, something to draw All Might long enough for Katsuki to get on him, back and forth…Until All Might just catches Katsuki and puts him down hard. You’re done, kid. You’re not breaking yourself just to take him down, not today.

-…Yeah Katsuki’s not accepting that. He literally bites All Might’s hand for lack of any other options, his arms barely able to even function at this point…And that gives Deku just enough energy to charge up Full Cowling to its full 5%, and past it, up to the limits he can heal without Recovery Girl…Move, All Might. Move, dammit! SMASH! One single blow that he can take and still use his arm, as the power of One For All forces his body to work. That punch is enough to make All Might, at his own ragged edge, step back, and Deku snatches a now-unconscious Katsuki up!

-Just a few precious feet. Just got to get through. And All Might, as he struggles to keep his muscles up, realizes Deku COULD have gone through the gate. He had enough time. But he came back, solely to save Katsuki. That’s the heart of a hero. That’s what makes Deku something special. Not the strength, not the stubborn will, not the plans and analysis. It’s the fact that when the chips are down…He, will not, leave a man behind!

-And when everything’s over, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that Recovery Girl gives both guys a healing, because Deku didn’t break the rules she laid out for him and Katsuki never got the “I am not putting your ass back together anymore you fucking idiot” speech. The bad news is she is pissed at All Might for what he did to these kids. Katsuki’s gonna be out for a while, and Deku’s straight up lucky that she was able to heal the back injury you gave him!

-Of course, even through his regret for going too far, All Might can’t help but feel proud of how far the boys came, and how much they’ve changed since coming here…

-In the aftermath, everyone learned different lessons. Some overcame their own fears, learned what their path truly meant. Some, saw how far they had to go. Some took grasp of a solid goal for their immediate future…But through it all, in the end, the final exams were finished…

-Deep in the city, in a quiet little bar, Tomura stares at a photo of Deku. Has to figure out what he’s gonna do about this kid. And that’s when the villain from the previous bar segment, the bespectacled fellow given the title-card of Giran, comes in…Just long enough to let them know that some folks are getting real curious about this League of Villains thing.

-Fellows like the stitched together guy who has no room to call someone gross, and this incredibly enthusiastic murder girl. She’s really excited about getting to kill people.

-Credits!

Both young men have a long way to go. A lot to learn. But…They just might have a shot, if this match was anything to go by. If Katsuki and Deku can ever overcome their pasts, to stand side by side…Well, the villains of the world would have to shudder, at what these two could pull off together.

But that’s a pretty big if. And it remains to be seen if they can make it. But we’ve got one last round in the season, so come back for it next time in episode THIRTY EIGHT of My Hero Academia! Wait for it!

#where I watch #recap #anime #my hero academia #boku no hero academia