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theinternetisaweboflies · 11 months

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Gates to Heck Chapter Three

Teru woke up on his couch with a headache and dry mouth, which would have been normal enough if it weren't for the fact that someone had removed his jacket. It was folded neatly on the coffee table next to his makeup kit. Then the hushed conversation coming from the genkan finally made it past that funny ringing in his ears.

He squinted against the too-bright overhead lights and barely made out Shigeo and Reigen. Teru relaxed the yellow power that had started to build between his hands. Shigeo hadn't noticed the change in his aura. He was reaching out a hand to steady Reigen, saying something about "-the wall above the bookshelf."

Reigen was standing with one foot in the genkan and the other in the air as he tugged off a shoe. He turned around to look into the living room and would have fallen over if Shigeo hadn't steadied him. Teru shut his eyes again.

"Psycho Union… Espers…" read Reigen. Teru could hear them approaching the bookshelf. "I'm sensing a theme."

"You're right, Reigen-shishou. I didn't even notice. Maybe he's renaming the Awakening Lab." The frown was audible in Shigeo's voice. "Oh, and I accused him of-"

"I don't think so," Reigen interrupted. "They're not exactly Extermination Club material."

Teru tried to even out his breathing so it wouldn't catch when Reigen snapped his fingers and said, "Is he still doing that Kaijin thing?"

"You mean when you sent me out to patrol the city at night in tights?"

"Don't put it like that."

"I don't think so," Shigeo said slowly. "He said nothing ever happens in this city."

"Was that before or after we dismantled a psychic terrorist organization?" asked Reigen.

"Before," said Shigeo, "but… they're… dismantled now. Right, Shishou?"

"Which means the ones that didn't get arrested are probably getting bored instead. Or angry."

Shigeo sighed. "Oh, Teruki," he said, and of course, that made Teru's breath catch.

Teru opened his eyes. Reigen and Shigeo had definitely heard him. He wouldn't have been surprised if the old lady from next door had heard him.

"Hanazawa-kun, how are you feeling?" asked Shigeo, and Teru already missed the sound of his first name in that voice. At least he could blame his blush on the fever.

"Fine," he said, sitting up. "I'm sorry."

Now he could see Shigeo's frown. "What for?"

Teru hadn't intended to laugh at Shigeo. He definitely hadn't intended to laugh so hard he passed out again, but the question had caught him off guard. For one thing, it seemed like he hadn't shaken his old urabanchou status after all.

For another, he hadn't exactly formed that gang.

Three months into his middle school career, Teru had finally hit back with his powers instead of his fists and broken Edano's nose.

Edano had threatened to turn him into the principal unless Teru agreed to go on-call for any fight more serious than rock-paper-scissors. Teru doubted the impending parent-teacher conference would have a good outcome if only half of the parties were present, so he became the shadow leader of Black Vinegar Middle School. By the time Edano's nose had healed, being an urabanchou had gone to Teru's head. At least Teru could win those fights.

By then he was winning most of his fights against Claw too. He'd always been stronger than them in terms of psychic powers, but it helped that he was no longer young enough to get two black eyes from one punch.

Teru just shrugged. "What's Reigen-san doing here?"

"Mob'll have to start heading home for dinner soon," said Reigen, before Shigeo could answer. "Unless you want Outoto-kun to make that headache of yours worse."

Teru tried to glare, but his squint probably ruined the effect.

"That doesn't-"

"You have a concussion, right?" Reigen interrupted. "You're not supposed to be alone in case you slip into a coma and die."

Shigeo looked alarmed, but Teru just glared harder. "I all know about concussion checks. I can do them myself."

"You-" Whatever carefully-controlled thing Reigen was doing with his face slipped out of place, and for a moment he looked genuinely confused. "How?"

"Balance test, cognitive function, visual tracking," Teru ticked them off his fingers. "I know what I'm doing."

"That's not as comforting as you think it is." Reigen's voice was faint.

"Please listen to Shishou, Hanazawa-kun," said Shigeo. "He thinks you should go to the hospital."

"Hospital?" Teru had been starting to list back against the pillows, but at that word, he jackknifed into a sitting position. "I don't need to go to a hospital!"

Hospital trips meant phone calls to his emergency contacts, which meant phone calls to the Seasoning City Child Guidance Center when his emergency contacts didn't pick up. He'd made that mistake once before and learned most of his acting skills the hard way putting out the resulting dumpster fire.

"Seriously, kiddo," said Reigen. "You don't look so hot. I think it would be a good idea if you got checked out by someone with an actual medical degree. The cab's waiting outside, so why don't we just-"

Teru didn't mean to teleport.

One second he was on his couch, and the next he'd been dunked ass-first in a rice paddy somewhere significantly more rural than Seasoning City. Without his shoes or coat.

He felt his fever go up a couple more degrees.

#mp100 #mp100 fanfic #mob psycho 100 fanfiction #terumob #teruki hanazawa #reigen arataka #is teru's dad #i don't make the rules

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pyreshe · 1 year

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tlou game spoiler-y under the cut for my beloved show onlys

i cannot WAIT to see how they handle the hospital and the cure dilemma in the show bc. we, the viewers, know that there is no way a cure was ever going to be viable. the mycologist in ep 2 more or less spells out in no uncertain terms that even BEFORE the world fell apart, the technology wasn't there, there was no cure to be made. the fireflies are operating out of a decrepit hospital with tech thats 20+ years old and even if by some miracle they were able to synthesize a vaccine from ellie's brain, and there was enough to treat people in perpetuity, they are largely viewed as a terrorist organization- it would be SO difficult to distribute this cure. you think ANY qz is gonna just let them roll in and start handing out injections?

the cure was NEVER a viable option, and had joel not stopped them, ellie would have ended up dying for nothing.

the tragedy lies in the fact that ELLIE AND JOEL DO NOT KNOW ANY OF THIS. ellie and joel are not mycologists or doctors- they are a passively suicidal teenage girl and a man with pretty bad ptsd. joel's choice to save ellie still has a lot of gravity in the sense that as far as they know, the cure would have worked! the world could have gone back to something near-normal, and joel acted selfishly and decided the world meant nothing to him without his new daughter figure.

idk im thinking thoughts and going insane

#tlou spoilers cw #girl help mushroom zombie show is making me unhinged

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fromthefishbowl · 3 years

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the neverending “question” of mob-boss AUs and italian characters

Every fandom in existence has mafia AUs, for some reason.

Usually written by anglophones, they show the mafia as the one portrayed in The Godfather or Goodfellas: dudes wearing bespoke suits who push the barrel of their gun into their enemy’s mouth as the latter pleads for their life, tears spilling down their cheeks and snot dripping onto their upper lip, pathetic as they kneel and beg while the mafioso stands over them, proud and manly and so handsome, with his gold watch catching the orange lights of the dying sun.

Well... let me shut down it real quick: that is a purely American and purely fictional vision of the mafia. A, for some reason, entirely idealized version of organized crime that Hollywood has been shoving into theaters for decades, to the point that you don’t even need to be American to believe that this is how things are in reality.

I feel like that, as a first note, I should say that “mafia” doesn’t mean anything: “mafia” is merely the type of organization, and it indicates a violent criminal organization with a moral code founded on the concept of “omertà”, silence regarding a crime and the unwillingness to confess to be the one committing it or turning in the names of the people who did.

So... what mafiosa organization is being discussed? Sacra Corona Unita? Cosa Nostra? ‘Ndrangheta? Camorra? Stidda? Banda della Magliana (in action between 1977 and 1993)?

Usually it sounds like the organization in question is Cosa Nostra, the Sicilian one, but there is always so little research and conversation with actual Italians - who have said over and over and over again that you shouldn’t portray Italian characters as sexy mafia bosses - that I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the first time you even hear about the fact that there are different kinds of organizations.

On the same route, since the dialogue with actual Italians is not considered in this conversation, for some reason, people are still running with the idea of “mobsters/mafia bosses are just bad boys” and sometimes they just need a redemption arch to come clean and become stand out citizens, while other times they are the epitome of sexiness and their partner gets into the organization too. In most cases, they are written as these loveable doofuses who will murder a bitch in cold blood but will then come cuddle with you.

No.

A round, absolute no.

Mafia bosses exploit people, they rape people, they murder innocent people, they steal from people, they enslave immigrants, they melt children into acid tanks because their parents were going to collaborate with the police. How is any of this sexy or even redeemable? Do you know that one of the reasons why weed will never be legalized in Italy is not because of the strong presence of the Church, but because mafiose organizations make a lot of money by selling drugs, including weed, and legalizing it would ruin their market?

And here, this is the face of a mafia boss who actually did it! His name was Totò Riina, a true Italian mafia boss who thankfully croaked a couple of years ago. You are literally one Google search away from seeing the other hundreds of heinous crimes he and his colleagues committed, as well as actually informing yourself regarding anything that has to do with the mafia and how it still affects and enslaves and terrorizes an entire country. Roberto Saviano, a writer who dared to call out the names of the Camorra boss and his associates during a protest, has been living under protection for fourteen years because they threatened to murder him. He is only forty-one!

This concerns the TOG fandom because I have seen that, although there is a lot of willingness from the many artists and writers that populate it to learn about Joe’s culture, religion, and traditions, everything regarding Nicky seems to be taken for granted and no one is willing to inform themselves, creating an astounding lack of dialogue with Italian creators.

Writing Nicky as being part of a mafiosa organization is a horrible example of ignorance and xenophobia, as well as unwillingness to understand how truly damaging those kinds of organizations are for our country.

You wouldn’t write about a KKK member being sexy and cool, so why is it okay to write about a mafioso that way? What part of murdering children and raping women and enslaving people for profit is cool?

For once we have a good example of an Italian character in the mainstream media that is not played by an American actor who pretends to speak with a broken Neapolitan accent, and the first instinct is to turn him into a horrible, horrible monster who is actually plaguing our country? And the wrong kind too, usually, because he’s from Genoa and not Sicily!

Seriously, I’m not saying that you cannot write mafia AUs, it’s fiction, who cares, but at the same time it should be a given that you should check your ideas with people who are actually from that country and who can actually explain to you how to do it correctly. For how mafia AUs are written, the mafioso could as well be just a normal criminal that has found themselves with their hands in drugs and murdering people and pimping out women.

If you have ever watched an Italian show or movie regarding crime, you should know that the main characters, the ones the audience is supposed to emphasize with, are never mafiosi. In Suburra, both TV series and movie, neither Aureliano nor Spadino are mafiosi: they’re just criminals. You know who the mafioso is? Samurai, the guy the director never tries to make you emphasize with, as he was part of the Banda della Magliana. In Trust, Primo is not represented as being sympathetic: he’s evil and his actions aren’t forgivable. In Don’t Be Bad, you’re supposed to be empathetic to Luca’s character, Cesare, but he’s a simple criminal with no ties to any mafiosa organization.

It really shouldn’t be this hard to even just ask Italians how to write about Italian issues with some touch and empathy.

Writing Nicky as a mobster could be as bad as writing Joe as a terrorist, and it’s crazy that no one seems to notice it.

#italian sources #nicky di genova #the old guard #tog discourse #luca marinelli #nicolò di genova #nicolo di genova #suburra #aureliano adami #spadino anacleti #trust #primo nizzuto #mafia au #non essere cattivo #don't be bad

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dragynkeep · 2 years

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The idea Blake was 12when she ran off with Adam frankly makes Ghira look so much worse if true.

like, the timeline for that part of blake's life is so messed up anyways considering the conflicting information between the show, the comics, the mangas that're supposed to be considered supplementory & the word of god via the writers & her va.

but that aside, we're supposed to take that blake was incredibly young when she was groomed into the white fang & in that, ghira absolutely let her down by not only taking her to potentially violent protests at such a young age, but also then did nothing to try & take her out of that situation. belladonna family defenders will always say that he might have tried to do this or that but the fact of the matter is that we were never shown it so it never happened. headcanon isn't canon, that's the whole point.

& it's even more disturbing that when blake comes home & blames herself for being groomed & in the process of being groomed, blames herself for telling her parents that she hated them & running away — ghira doesn't refute this. he doesn't point out that it was his fault for failing as a parent & that he never blamed her, he just praises her for pulling out of a situation she should never have even been in the first place! ghira it's your fault your daughter was in the grasp of a terrorist organization for her formative years when she was a child. & don't even get me started on kali & her non effort in any amount during this storyline, accountability just doesn't exist for these "parents" & it's so frustrating to see them be lauded as the best parents in the show when they failed blake at every turn.

the only thing ghira acknowledges is that blake wasn't able to pull herself out of this situation alone & he's right, she didn't. sun, a boy she knew for a handful of months, did more for blake in her lifetime than her own parents ever had.

#rwby #ghira belladonna #kali belladonna #blake belladonna #sun wukong #owl.txt #answered #q

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

#bnha 300 #endeavor #todoroki enji #todoroki shouto #todoroki rei #all them todorokis #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I can't believe I've done 300 of these now lol #think I'm gonna finally have to update the post index again

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nickyhemmick · 3 years

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A Very Stressed American Jew here again,

Hi! Thank you for taking the time to respond to my ask and yes, I’m someone who loves hearing as many perspectives as possible so I’d love some sources from you. I also very much appreciate the fact you are being very careful to only reblog posts that are anti Israel, not antisemetic (which is frankly a breath of fresh air, the internet has been a bit exhaustingly full of both antisemitic & Islamaphobic content these past feel days as I bet you’ve seen)

I’ve also been to Israel on a Birthright trip. We met people who ( both Palestinian and Israeli) on various sides of the conflict and learned a ton about it, from both perspectives which I was lucky to have the opportunity to do. We even went a little into the Gaza Strip to talk to these people running a pro Palestine peace movement and it was so important to me hearing those stories.

I never said they were on equal footing militarily, they definitely are not, Israel definitely has that advantage. But you are incorrect about Israel always being the aggressor since 1948,they’ve defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Isreal is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack.

I 100% agree that there are too many people who are compliant with the mistreatment of many Palestinians! I’m not anti #freepalestine at all! I get why that is a thing. But I also stand with Israel( but that does not mean I condone every action they take. ) Overall I think the situation is extremely complicated and some sort of compromise should be reached.

It’s just been very frustrating to see so many people reblog things on a situation just bashing Israel because so many others are doing it. Especially when then don’t know what they are talking about or using big buzz words that they don’t know what they mean, or spreading misinformation. It’s been on both sides and has been very very draining. I just want peace and some sort of solution. It makes me extremely happy you know what you are talking about and can debate politely yet happily about it. The internet has been so ‘ either agree with me 100% or you a bad person’ about this so it’s refreshing to see you are not like that.

I’ve done a lot of research into it from as many perspectives as I can get my hands on.

Some extremest Israelis are hurting Palestinians

Some extremest Palestinians are hurting Israelis

Both sides are throwing rockets at each other and it’s terrifying.

Both sides claim the other side is brainwashed

There is so much biased propaganda out there on both ends it’s hard to know what is truly happening.

I know people living in Israel who have sent me videos they’ve taken of rockets flying over there heads and I’m so scared for them. I’m so scared for all the innocent people caught in the crossfire on both sides.

Thank you for a more nuanced response and I’d love some of your sources,

A Very Stressed American Jew

Hi anon,

I wasn’t going to respond to this until after my math final tomorrow but I’ve spent the past two days thinking of your ask and the things I wish to articulate in my answer.

I am going to start here: how can you say you support Israel but say you are also pro-free Palestine (as in, you said you are not anti free Palestine). In my opinion, these two ideas cannot coexist. Simply because, the entire establishment of Israel has been on violent, racist, colonial grounds.

(Super long post under here guys)

You said you don’t support all Israel’s actions, and definitely, just because you support something doesn’t mean you can’t criticize it. However, in my opinion, if you do not support Israel’s actions against Palestinians there’s not much left to support? I admit this is a very biased view as I am Palestinian, but many things that people support about Israel have existed before its creation: as in, these are things and qualities that have existed in Judaism and are not due to “Israeli culture.” There is no Israeli culture. There’s Jewish culture--100%. But there is no Israeli culture, because Israel does not only steal Palestinian land, but Palestinian culture, too. Such as claiming Levant food is Israeli; hummus, ful, falafel, shawarma. I mentioned food from this article I know is culturally and traditionally of the Levant, and has been for centuries, it is not something that has come to culinary creation in the past 73 years.

I do not think this is a complicated issue. I said that in the previous ask and I’ll say that again. Saying it is a complicated issue is trivializing the deaths of innocent Palestinians, the violent dispossession our ancestors endured, and the apartheid they live under. I hope if anything comes from this discussion it is you removing the “it’s a complicated issue” phrase from your vernacular.

This is not complicated. A journalist reporting the death of martyrs only to discover that of them include two of his brothers is not complicated. The asymmetry of Israel vs Palestinian armed forces is not complicated, nor is the asymmetry in Israeli vs Palestinian suffering (which I will get to later). It is not complicated. Destroying the graves of martyred Palestinians (or just in general, the graves of the dead) is not complicated. Little children being pulled from the rubble, children being forced to comfort one another as they are covered in the ashes of their decimated homes, attacking unarmed citizens in peaceful demonstrations (you can find videos before this attack where they were playing with kites and balloons), destroying an international media office and refusing to allow journalists to retrieve the work they are spending every waking hour documenting but claiming it was because it was a hide out for a “Hamas base,” fathers who are trying to cheer their frightened children up only to end up dead the next day, while many Israeli have the privilege and the option to go to hotel-like bomb shelters is not complicated.

This brings me to my next point: the suffering of Palestinians cannot be compared to the inconvenience of Israeli’s. On one side, you have children who are happy to have saved their fish in the face of their homes and lives being decimated behind them to Israeli’s in Tel Aviv having to cut their beach day short to get to bomb shelters. You have mothers and fathers ready to set their lives down for their children to save them from bombs to Israeli’s enjoying their brunch only after making sure there are bomb shelters there. You have Palestinian children being murdered to blocking out the sound of sirens in the safety of your bomb shelters. (The first picture of the Palestinian child is not from footage of the recent problems). You have the baby lone survivor of a whole family recovered from rubble. His whole family, gone, before he ever had the chance to realize that he even exists, while Israeli’s decide to flee out of the country,(Translate the caption from Twitter, it checks out), or have to leave the shower due to sirens. Who is really suffering?

I won’t sit here and pretend like the thought of rockets flying over my head, no matter which side I am on, is not terrifying. It is. It’s scary to just think about. But Israeli’s have protection beyond Palestinian’s, they have sirens to warn them (Israel does not always warn Palestinian building members that it is about to be bombed), they have the Iron Dome, they have simply the threat of nuclear power (which I am not saying Israel would use, but the simple fact they have it would make me feel a lot better if I were an Israeli citizen) and they have bomb shelters. What do Palestinians have? Hamas? That smuggles its weapons through the ocean? That only ever reacts to the action Israel instigates? And yet Gazans are branded terrorists and that it is their fault that they “elected” a terrorist organization that only was ever created due to no protection from any armed country? (There are so many links I want to add in this paragraph but it is simply impossible for me to add everything I want, a lot of what I’m referring to can either be found through a Google search, or you can stalk my Twitter account, all that I am posting now is about Palestine, and will include sources of things I cannot add in just this one post.)

Look, I see myself in the genocide happening in Palestine right now. I see myself in this ten year-old girl. In this three year old girl. I see me and my family in videos of cars being attacked in Ramallah and Sheikh Jarrah (I cannot find the Ramallah video, should be somewhere on my Twitter), I see my father in the countless videos of fathers crying out for their children, of kissing the corpse of their loved ones (again, translate the Tweet, the man holding the body is saying “just one kiss”). I see my grandfather in videos like this (old footage). I see my younger brother, I see my grandmother, my mother, my aunts and uncles and cousins. I see myself and my life and my family were my father not lucky enough to get a scholarship to the UK and out of Palestine, were my maternal grandfather not been lucky enough to make it to a refugee camp and build a life in Jordan. I have an unbelievable amount of privilege to be born into the life I was born in to, in terms of I do not have the threat of bombs and violent dispossession around me, and I do not even live in the US. I have privilege and sheer luck that my parents were able to go to the US so that me and my brothers can be born, because now I have both the protection of the most powerful country in the world while at the same time being part of a people to have suffered so generously the past seventy-three years.

On the other hand, you saying that Israel has “defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Israel is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack,” I offer you this question: why are they using military grade guns and stun grenades in mosques to “defend” themselves from rocks? And before you mention that Hamas hit Tel Aviv, I remind you that Hamas did that due to the violence in the Al-Aqsa mosque square and the attempted ethnic cleansing in Sheikh Jarrah. The violence didn’t begin with us; the violence was brought out of Palestinians in resistance to the generations of oppression we have endured and the attack on Palestinian Muslims during the holiest night of Ramadan. Hamas has since asked for a ceasefire multiple times and Israel is refusing. New reports say there is a possibility of a ceasefire in the coming days, but Israel could have decided this a long time ago and spared many lives. (Remember, no matter what resistance we make, Israel is the one in power).

Israel has been the aggressor since 1948. Just read up about the Nakba! 700k Palestinian families were dispossessed violently. The only reason Israel was established at all was because it simply declared it was now a country and the US and many other countries recognized it as such. (Of course, there are many other historical details here, like the British Mandate of Palestine, the Balfour Declaration, the Oslo Accords and many others. I am aware of them but these are for a different post all together). My paternal grandfather was a little younger than me when Israel as a state was created. The hostility that followed was due to this independent declaration being listened to over Palestinian voices.

Here is a very, very simplified analogy, one that can also answer some people’s questions as to why Palestinians (not Arabs, we are Palestinian before we are Arab) did not like what happened in 1948 and why they refused a two-state solution (that Israel was never going to go through with anyway). (I am also aware other Arab nations got involved, and that is perhaps what you mean when you said they had to defend themselves, but my response to that would still be we didn't start it, that we only responded to it).

Let’s say you are a farmer. You have many fields of trees, ones you have taken shelter under from the sun since you were a child, or hid behind when you wanted to avoid your parents when you misbehaved. You have seen your trees grow from a seed, to a sprout, to a flower, to a large, beautiful tree with fruits the size of a fist. You pluck the fruits from one tree, and make a jam from it. I don’t know how to make jam but I know it takes a lot of energy. So, you make this jam and from it, produce a lovely, mouth-watering pie. Once it has cooled from the oven, you take it with you outside your balcony just so that you can admire the years, months, weeks and hours this one pie has taken to be created. Suddenly, a stranger walks past and yells to you, “That pie looks delicious, I want it!” And you, shocked at their boldness but ready to share, say, “I will give you a bite.” But the stranger says, “No! I do not want a bite or a slice or whatever you want to offer me, I want the pie!” And they grab it from you. You and the stranger start screaming at one another about who the pie is for, who is allowed to decide what happens to it, and who you can share it with. Then, another stranger comes by and says, “Why all the problems? Let’s cut the pie in half and the both of you can share it!” But why should you, who has spent years cultivating the fruit and grain inside this pie, share it? Why should you give up half of the 100% that you already owned? Of what you already had? So you disagree, and now a crowd has formed around you. “What’s the problem?” someone in the crowd calls. “They don’t want to share their pie!” another voice says. Then you become branded a selfish, mean bastard. Again, this is a super simplified analogy, so don’t take it too seriously, but I am trying to show you why Israel is the aggressor.

In addition, I do not know too much about the Birthright program, just that American Jewish people are sent to Israel, all expenses paid. I tried my best to find the Twitter thread but I read it so long ago, about an American Jewish person who went on their trip and they talked about the propaganda that they were exposed to on that trip. I can’t say for sure that it is true, because I haven’t been on it and never will, but that is the first thing I thought of when you mentioned your Birthright trip. Either way, I think it is still great you went and saw the country. However, I must ask you this: are the people you met ones you, yourself, sought out, or ones you were organized to meet?

Now, I haven’t been to Gaza, so I don’t know what you really saw or didn’t, but did you speak to Palestinians who lost their homes to airstrikes? Did you speak to siblings, parents or children of loved ones who had been lost beneath the rubble of buildings and towers? Outside of Gaza, did you speak to Palestinians that live in poor quarters? Ones who have been victims of an IDF soldier shooting them, or who have family members who have died from such attacks? Did they take you guys to Ramallah, to Nablus, to Beit-Imreen, to Jenin, to small villages in the West Bank, far away from Jerusalem and Tel Aviv? Did you speak to people there? Ask them their stories? Because if you did I have a very hard time believing you still think Israel is “defending” itself.

I’ve been to Jerusalem, many times, even Tel Aviv and Jaffa and Haifa. All the times I visited Dome of the Rock there were IDF soldiers with huge guns strapped to their person, standing menacingly outside the courtyard. For what? Genuinely, genuinely for what? It is nothing but an intimidation tactic. The same way we are not allowed in through the airport. If you could see the struggle some Palestinians actually go through just to get into Palestine, through the land border, you would be disgusted. I love Palestine, it is my ancestry land, it is my culture and tradition. But I always hated going to visit because I knew the way to getting there would be hell.

My father worked in Tel Aviv through the first Intifada. My maternal grandfather was forced out of his home in the Nakba and was forced to leave behind his belongings and the orange trees that have been in his family for generations. Hell, the town they lived in was destroyed! It doesn’t exist anymore except in the memories of my aunts and uncles, who never even saw it, but just heard of it from their father!

I’m not saying there aren’t Palestinians who are racist and anti-Semitic (though, tbh, I will direct you here for that) and who support Hamas in killing Israeli’s, but talking about how there are many “extremist” Palestinians who are hurting Israeli’s and in the next line say there are extremist Israeli’s who are hurting Palestinians is not correct. There are extremist Israeli’s killing, lynching, stealing the houses of Palestinians, and there are Palestinians who are fed up and fighting back. (I am not talking about Hamas vs the IDF here, I am talking about the citizens). I have not seen one reported death of an Israeli due to Palestinian violence (if you have, from a trusted source, send it to me), but I have seen countless of the other way around. I have seen images of charred little bodies, of a baby being dug out of the rubble, of a child’s body that had been so mutilated that you can literally see the insides of their body coming out. (I don’t know if it’s on my Twitter, I didn’t want to save that shit). If this was my country I would be absolutely ashamed of myself and my people and what they are doing in the name of my protection. So you have to forgive me, and forgive other Palestinians, who don’t give a fuck about Israeli’s having anxiety over rockets flying over their heads when we see these images. Where is the protection of our kids? Why does no one seem to mention them except when mentioning the poor, innocent ones in Israel? At least more than the majority of them have their parents to comfort and rock them. At least many of them will probably be saved of ever having to be beneath the rubble of a destroyed building, or digging in it, to hope to find the parts of their parents or siblings just so that they can bury them. Just the links from the start of my answer is enough to support what I am saying.

I have soooo much more I can say, like how Israel uses religion to distort the image of what’s going on (tbh, just check my Twitter for that: language is EVERYTHING), but you didn’t mention religion in any of this and so I won’t either. The only reason I decided to respond to you in such length was because you have been one of the few respectful anons in my inbox in the past few years of me being on here talking about Israel, so I appreciate that from you.

As promised, some more sources: decolonizepalestine is a good place to start if you haven’t used it already, it has reading materials, myth busting, and more. Here is a map list of destroyed localities from pre-1948 until 2017, run by two anti-Zionist Israelis. Here and here are the articles I promised of a former IDF soldier-turned Palestinian activist, I read these two last year in June and remember coming out much more informed than before I read them. I suggest looking into the writer and his organization, which, if I remember correctly, collects accounts from previous IDF soldiers. I would suggest not to follow Israel and the IDF accounts on any platform, or any Israel times newspaper, simply because they will not tell you the truth. In fairness, you do not have to follow any Palestinian Authority accounts (which I am not even sure there are), but to follow on-ground Palestinians like Mohammed El-Kurd, who has been speaking out since he was 12 (he is now 22) and he is part of the families in Sheikh Jarrah. I have noticed that this and this account have been translating Arabic headlines and tweets for non-Arabic speakers, I have just started following this person but their bio says they are a Palestinian Jewish person so I am interested in their view of things. You can also follow Israeli’s on-ground and see their perspective on things, but I would also advise to compare the Palestinian and Israeli side of things from the people, and critically analyze the language used in each case. Also, this article references Jewish scholars opposed to the occupation (I have not looked into them myself but I plan to after my exams), and Norman Finklestein is another great Jewish scholar to look into if you haven’t. Twitter is better than Instagram and Facebook, so I would stick to getting live-info from there, Twitter does not censor Palestinian content as much as Insta and Facebook so you’re more likely to see things there.

I will end this by saying I personally do not see any other option for peace than to give Palestinians our land back. Whether we may be Muslim, Jewish or Christian, it has always been and will always be our land. I only hope to see it free in my lifetime.

Free Palestine.

#palestine #israel #west bank #tala gets asks #anon #whew this ask took me like 2-3 hours to respond to #pls read it even if ure not the anon #lots of good links and info #palestine tag #anon there are more reading lists in my #to read #and palestine tag tags #check my likes on twitter too if u decide btw not just what i retweet #like also: imagine palestinians around palestine and the world who are simply waiting to hear if their relatives are dead or alive or #have been striked from a rocket. like i can see my father worried abt his friend in gaza rn like any day #now he can just never hear back from him and have to guess hes dead somewhere beneath the rubble #and israelis are anxious at the rocket sounds? good for them but again that shows the asymmetry in #palestinian vs israeli suffering #and by ‘good for them’ i mean good that thats what theyre worried abt compared to palestinians #my aunt is in sheikh jarrah #my cousin lives right by the al aqsa square #again theres so much more i couldve mentioned and talked abt but theres just so much #theres so many LAYERS i wld say but not that its complicated #and definitely theres more i need to learn and read and watch dont get me wrong! i am not a fountain of knowledge by all means!!!!

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elia-de-silentio · 3 years

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Recap on the Order of the Clocktower, suppositions on the real plan, and predictions on the future of the arc

Well! After months of fights that led to very little and an almost nonstop series of cliffhangers, it seems like finally we're entering the final stage of this arc. And in the last two numbers I noticed ... something doesn't quite add up.

Let's make a brief recap on the Decay of Angels and the newly revealed last part of their plan. So, unlike what initially thought, the last part of their plan wasn't 'mostly terrorist activity', it was a goddamn vampire apocalypse that brought several nations to their knees in a handful of days.

This led the world leaders to decide that Fukuchi's speech of several chapters ago was right on the money, the only thing that can face such a catastrophe is an international army of which he will be given complete control. Moreover, to drive the point home ...

They deem fit to give him this. Another extra powerful weapon in the hands of exactly one person? Who can multiply the strenght of every weapon he's given? With no countermeasure if he gets out of control? What is these people's problem?!

By the way, take a moment to appreciate how Fukuchi got something that allows him to destroy the individual soldier's free will and control all of their actions, something he felt already happened to him and the trauma of which gives him motivation. He doesn't spare a thought on the fact that they will suffer just as much as he did, he can only think of his own pain.

So, Ranpo makes an observation that really shouldn't need a superior intelligence to be made: that with this trick, the Decay of Angels will have its goal served on a silver platter. World domination. Again, take a moment to appreciate how Fukuchi, who expressed anarchist beliefs and just the chapter before gave a neat speech on how politicians who order others around without any risk to themselves suck, coughed up a solution that was even more authocratic. Maybe all the 'you're the hero everyone depends on' talk got a little to his head.

But ... for what I've understood ... this is not the Decay of Angels's plan, this is Fukuchi's plan. If the inconsistences for him can be attributed to hypocrisy, for all the other four people in his group it makes even less sense.

Let's take a look at his four comrades, from the one less likely to subscribe to such a plan to the most likely:

• Bram Stoker: he's literally being threatened with death if he doesn't comply. One of the first things he says is protesting that he swore not to add any more people to his kin, but Fukuchi forces him. Once he complies, he express little interest for whatever is going on around him, everything he wants is a radio to pass the time in his coffin. World domination? Seems like an hard pass for him.

• Sigma. While fanon commonly portrays him as the 'good and cute not-really-a-villain', because he has a sympathetic backstory and shows kindness to the clients and staff of the casino, I'd like to point out that he's actually fairly amoral. He's in there because the Decay offered him a home; it makes sense that he's like that after being abused and aware of his being different from the rest of the world for all of his short life, but he still took part in a terrorist plan. Moreover, he was the one to send the casino's clients against the Hunting Dogs to hinder them - regular civilians against the very best of the army. It was actually Teruko who took upon herself and Tachihara not to harm civilians no matter what; what guarantee did Sigma have that she would have done that? What if she had listened to Tachi instead, who wanted to retaliate? Caring to clients and staff, but only up to a certain point. Even when he gave Atsushi that information, it was because of the latter's kindness towards him, not for some moral reason. Sigma is ultimately out only for himself. But this also means that he isn't really involved in the Decay's grand plan: he wants a home and that's it, tutto il resto fottesega.

• Gogol. Now we're getting a little closer. But not without incurring in another contradiction: Gogol hates restraints and orders, anything that gives a boundary to a human's actions. He detests even internal restraints, given by morality and his own sense of guilt. Why would someone like that partecipate in a plan that strips human beings of their own free will, and traps the world under the control of a lone person? Well, it's just speculation because we haven't seen him in ages, but I think it's part of his tendency to destroy himself in the name of freedom. He kills people to defy his own sense of guilt; he wants to kill Fyodor to destroy his desire to be understood and accepted; he collaborates in Fukuchi's plan to destroy his own beliefs in freedom, the thing that more than anything keeps him chained to a certain course of action. In his debut, he described the Decay of Angels's plan as pure evil and thus worth supporting; it's possible that he wasn't saying that under the common definition of evil, but in his own book, the anathema to Gogol's beliefs.

• Fyodor. Who has already stated a personal, very different goal: to acquire the reality-altering Book and make a world devoid of Ability users. All he needs for thar is wiping out the Ability-based organizations in Yokohama so he'll have a free pass, which is not exactly a small thing, but he doesn't need world domination for what he wants. So, why was he involved in such a plan? Well, this is a point I'll expand more on below.

I've already made another post on how the Decay of Angels are an extremely unlikely group and it's almost surprising they managed to work along enough to make this much damage. It's becoming even more evident now: Fukuchi is the only one really interested in the organization's goal.

The other one who gets closest is Fyodor, who, as we have seen, doesn't really care for that; but he gained what he wanted as an accessory. He wanted to get rid of Ability-users organizations in the city, and now the ADA members can't show themselves without getting attacked by the police, the Port Mafia has most of his top members turned into mindless vampires, and the Special Ability Department is about to be overruled by Fukuchi. Moreover, a Fukuchi with absolute power would be able to hand him the Book. Mission accomplished!

But there is this little detail: the Order of the Clocktower, those with the authority to hand Fukuchi the 'One Order'. There is very little known about them (I'm going from the wikia here): appearently, their purpose is to protect the British royal family, their members are Ability users of a terrific level, and they were responsible for chasing Mimic out of Europe after they gave the order for the attack who labelled them as war criminals in the first place.

Come se questo non li rendesse già infinitamente più cani di quelli che danno il titolo all'opera, in Dead Apple they contact Ango to inform him that, to prevent the spread of Shibusawa's fog, they sent an incineration-Ability user to destroy Yokohama (quickly, native readers of British/European literature! Any suggestion for who this person could be! I could come up with Cecco Angiolieri, Aldo Palazzeschi and Gabriele D'Annunzio, but I really doubt it could be any of them, nobody ever cares about Italian literature besides Dante. Your loss).

So, this can mean two things: either they are in contact with the Japanese government and acted with their agreement, or they have enough power to overrule it. Personally, I think the former is more probable.

Anyways, they aren't irrationally genocidal. Once Atsushi &Co. fix the situation, the attack is called off, even if their leader, Agatha Christie, complains about not having the scent of a burning nation to go with her tea. So, their leader: it's not the first time she shows up in the story.

She appeared all the way back in chapter 12, the same that also introduced Fitzgerald and Fyodor, in a meeting to discuss the failure of the bounty on Atsushi. Which tells us two very important things: first, as the other two were out for the Book, it's highly probable that she's after it as well; secondly, that she works with Fyodor, the very same person who orchestrated the plan that should get the One Order, a weapon under the control of Agatha's organization, in the hands of Fukuchi.

Now, Fukuchi is an interesting one under this point of view, because he wasn't even implied in the Chapter 12 Conference. We have seen that Fyodor likes to keep his fingers in multiple pies when it comes to razing the poor Yokohama to the ground: first he hacked the Moby Dick to make sure it fell; then he helped Shibusawa with the aforementioned fog incident; then he acted with his own organization with the Cannibalism plot; lastly for now, the Decay of Angels. As long as he gets to eliminate the Ability users, he doesn't care who he's working with.

Insomma, è 'na zoccola di nome e di fatto.

But we have also seen that Fyodor isn't above backstabbing his 'colleagues': he ignored the fate of Fitzgerald after he fell and took the opportunity to take the Guild's assets for himself, and he directly killed Shibusawa to turn him in the Singularity and send him to get killed by Atsushi. Note how Shibu got off even worse than Fitz: he wasn't in the Chapter 12 Conference, and it's likely he didn't know about the plan to incinerate Yokohama while Fyodor did, being acquainted with Agatha. It's even possible that was the whole point of his involvement in the operation: give her an excuse to attack, while he got an opportunity to cause the deaths of Ability users on the side.

My point is: you know how Fukuchi was not in the Chapter 12 Conference? And he just put himself in a position where if he is found out, things will have consequences on an international level, now that the Order got involved? And do you also remember how Fyodor mused to himself that he didn't make the perfect plan required by the Decay of Angels, because that would have been boring?

Le mie previsioni per quest'arco sono: Fukuchi è una tigre di cartapesta, e si ritroverà la sua super spada ficcata di prepotenza su per il culo.

A very faithful translation of the above: it is very possible that Fukuchi was set up to fail from the very beginning; or at the very least, Fyodor was keeping his plans with Agatha as backup in the case the Decay of Angels didn't work out .

When the ADA will defeat Fukuchi (because no one of his colleagues will lift a finger to help), they will once again play straight into their enemies's hands. Maybe they will 'officially' remain as dangerous terrorists, and then the Order of the Clocktower will have to intervene against them. Or they will actually rehabilitate themselves, and they will be once again celebrated as heroes while the Hunting Dogs will fall in disgrace - what with their leader being secretly a terrorist leaders, suddenly these very powerful people will become unreliable - and the goverment will make an horrible figure, what with persecuting innocent people while being played like fiddles by the real criminals; surely, this situation will call for someone more reliable to establish order in Japan, such as, perhaps, an intervention from an highly esteemed European Ability organization.

How things will proceed from then on, it's anyone's guess. It is possible that Agatha will use her power to have Dazai and Fedka the Convict released from jail, though why would she do that is up in air. Maybe it would be more convenient for her to leave such an unreliable ally where she can see him, and she has never met Dazai as far as we know, so she probably isn't much interested in him. This is as far as my prediction abilities come.

Thanks to anyone who bothered to read my ramblings!

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd meta #bsd theories #bsd doa #bsd fukuchi #bsd fyodor #bsd agatha #bsd gogol #bsd stoker #bsd sigma #elia's recaps

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somethingvaguetodo · 3 years

Text

Program: Outreach

For @into-september who requested “value me” from this prompt list. Read on AO3 here.

~~~

“Adrien A-Agreste?”

Adrien winced at the stutter that preceded his last name, but stood, straightening his jacket before turning to the woman with what he hoped was a sincere smile.

“That’s me.”

She bit her lip before smiling tentatively back. “I’m Lena LaRoe.” Adrien held out his hand to shake hers and she stared at it, as if he had offered her a snake's head instead of a regular hand. Self-conscious, he let his fingers ball into a fist and dropped his arm to hang uselessly by his side. “You can come with me.”

She spun on her patent black heel and walked toward a door past the reception area. Adrien hurried to follow her, nodding politely at the receptionist who quickly tried to pretend she wasn’t just staring at him in shock.

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief once the door closed behind him, and the hall was wonderfully absent of any inquisitive eyes.

Adrien absolutely loved the Miraculous Center for Emotional Support. The non-profit was established by Paris’s heroes and funded by the government and generous donors, with the intention of serving the emotional needs of Paris’s citizens, especially those who had been akumatized, targeted by akumas, or generally traumatized by the terror that had gripped Paris for years. And normally, everyone at the Center loved him too. But that’s when he was here as Chat Noir.

Right now he was Adrien Agreste, son of the infamous Hawkmoth.

He could see the difference in everyone he had encountered already. Gus, the security guard, had given him a dirty look while he checked in. Carlie at the reception desk didn’t attempt to hide her slack-jawed expression. Lena, who was normally professional but friendly to Chat Noir, couldn’t meet his eye, and stumbled over his last name like she was uttering the most offensive curse.

It was nothing new, but it didn’t hurt any less.

Lena stepped aside and let Adrien pass into her office. She followed him inside, almost closing the door. She stopped before it clicked closed, swinging it open again and leaving it a few inches open. It was almost as if she was afraid of being closed into the room with him - like he was going to akumatize her just by being near.

Adrien swallowed back a scream of frustration and sat down.

“Well, M. Agreste,” Lena said, managing not to choke on his name this time, which Adrien hoped was a good sign. “Thank you for coming in to talk with me today.”

“Thank you for offering me an interview,” Adrien countered. As upset as he was at the reaction he had gotten so far at the Center, it was nowhere near as bad as all of the other places where he had applied for jobs. It seemed like, no matter what industry, and no matter what qualifications he had, no one wanted to hire a terrorist’s son.

It was a little crazy of him, applying for a job at the Center when he was often here as Chat Noir. But it was work he loved, a place he was happy, and… well… his dwindling trust fund could only last him for so long.

He wondered, briefly, what Ladybug would think if she knew.

“I...well…” Lena looked uncomfortable, like she didn't really want to offer him an interview but wasn’t given a choice. “Of course.” She took a deep breath before pasting on something of a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about what makes you interested in this position?”

“Of course. I have my degree in…” He trailed off, realizing that reciting his resumé wasn't going to get him anywhere. It never did. He went for some form of honesty. “Listen, you’ve got my resumé, you don’t want to hear that from me. I’m here because I think this is the most worthwhile work I could do. I want to help people. I know what it’s like to feel overwhelmed by your emotions, and to feel like you have no support and no one to turn to. I’d like to do anything I can do to help people who are struggling in that way.”

Lena gave an uncomfortable sigh. “That’s a wonderful sentiment, Adrien. I just… can I be honest with you?”

“I would appreciate that.”

She leaned both elbows on the desk, resting her chin on her folded hands. “Do you really think that it would bring people comfort to come here and see…?”

“The son of Hawkmoth,” he bitterly finished her sentence.

Lena winced, but didn’t back down. “I’m sorry if that seems harsh, but it’s reality.”

Adrien felt his carefully crafted professional façade start to crack. Maybe he should have thought this through before coming here. Now, he would never be able to think about Lena, or anyone else here, the same.

“Right,” he said, before he could let something more frustrated slip out. “Well, I guess I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He started to stand, but Lena gestured him back down.

“Not quite yet. The boss wants to speak with you.”

Adrien was confused - Lena was the head of human resources, she really didn’t have a boss - but made sure he didn’t show it. She pressed a button on the intercom, and they sat together in tense silence. A moment later there was a light knock on the door, and it was nudged open.

Ladybug walked into the room.

That was unexpected. Adrien was worried - did his presence in the building really warrant calling in the big guns? But at the same time, he felt a million times calmer. How could he not; after all, his best friend just came in.

“Hello,” Ladybug said, her voice and her eyes soft. She took a seat in the empty chair next to him.

Lena looked between them, clearly waiting for Ladybug to start talking. Ladybug looked back, annoyed, but if he didn’t know her so well, he never would have detected it. “Your application created quite the stir here, Adrien.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I don’t really understand why I was called in, though,” Ladybug steamrollered over him. “I’ve never made hiring decisions before.”

“It’s not that,” Lena finally spoke. “We just thought that it would be helpful to have you on hand in this instance -”

“What?” Ladybug cut her off. “In case he akumatized someone?” Ladybug’s eyes were hard, and her tone was sharp. She was radiating righteous fury. “Might I remind you, Mlle. LaRoe, that Adrien was never accused of association with his father? That he was a minor at the time when Hawkmoth was active and apprehended, and by all means was just as much a victim of his father’s cruelty as the rest of Paris, if not more so? This entire organization was founded on the basis of understanding and respect, and I’m extremely disappointed to learn that this is the approach you had to Adrien’s desire to work here.”

“By showing a desire to come here, Adrien is demonstrating compassion, kindness, and empathy. The desire to help others and do something bigger than himself. By coming here, meeting with you, walking through the halls of this building while people looked out of the corners of their eyes and whispered and gossiped, Adrien is showing that he has the mental fortitude to overcome any adversity. Why, I think he’s the bravest, strongest, and most admirable person I’ve ever met. And if you don’t believe that that is the kind of person that I would want to work alongside, then you have no idea what true bravery and heroism really is.”

Ladybug was staring down Lena, who at least had the decency to look ashamed. Adrien couldn’t take his eyes off his partner, who had defended him with such ferocity, even though she didn’t know him. If possible, he fell a little deeper in love with her.

“I’m sorry,” Lena said, properly chastised.

Ladybug blinked, as if just realizing what had happened. Her cheeks pinkened slightly. “Well… I think that covers it.” She looked down, clearly embarrassed and scraped her toe along the edge of Lena’s desk.

“Of course.” Lena turned toward Adrien. “I think you would make a wonderful addition to the team, Adrien. We’ll do some research into which department would be the best fit for your skills.”

Adrien could barely believe his ears. Ladybug’s fierce exclamation on his character had earned him a job offer on the spot? “I… wow… thank you.”

“Actually,” Ladybug spoke up again, the coloring in her face now back to normal. “I was thinking of having him work with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.” She turned her body toward him. “Marinette works in program outreach. I think you two will work well together.”

Adrien held her gaze, feeling like something was passing between them. He wondered what it meant that she had come in with an idea of what department she wanted him in, and with someone in mind to work with.

“I’ll be in touch with an offer letter,” Lena said, standing. Adrien rose to meet her. This time, she was the one to reach out a hand for him to shake. He took it, feeling a million times better than when he first came in.

“I’ll walk you out,” Ladybug said, leaving no room for argument. He followed her in silence out of the office, down the hall, and past the reception desk. Carlie still didn’t hide the fact that she was staring, but her gaze meant nothing to him now.

Adrien didn’t speak until they reached the front doors. “Thank you, Ladybug, for what you said about me in there.”

Ladybug waved him aside. “I was just speaking the truth.”

“Not many people feel that way about me.”

Her eyes softened, and she reached out to touch his arm. “It's the truth that I see. I guess I never realized just how prejudiced people are about you until it hit home here.”

Adrien smiled at her. “So that’s why you went to bat for me like that?”

“Can I make a confession?” Ladybug bit her lip and waited for him to nod before continuing. “I was standing outside the office the whole time, and I heard what you said to Lena about feeling overwhelmed, and unsupported. That’s exactly why this company was started, and that’s exactly the type of people Chat and I envisioned staffing it.” Ladybug’s eyes gleamed suddenly, like they were sharing a private joke. “Speaking of Chat… you reminded me of him.”

He felt the old panic of his secret identity rising. “Chat? Chat Noir? Really?”

Ladybug’s smile was sheepish. “In a way. He… don’t tell him I said this, but he puts on a show. His big personality is there to hide just how vulnerable he can be sometimes. I know him pretty well and... let’s just say he didn't have the best upbringing either. So, you reminded me of him.”

As his heart rate settled back down, Adrien thought about it. Would it really be so bad if she knew he was Chat Noir? He knew that she cared for Chat, but after everything that happened with his father, he always feared that she would shy away from him if she learned that he was Adrien Agreste. But maybe today, he learned that he really didn’t have anything to worry about.

“That’s quite a compliment.”

Ladybug shrugged. “It's the highest compliment I can think of.” It looked like she wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words.

He decided to let her off the hook. “I should get going.”

“Of course,” she agreed, reaching out to shake his hand. He let his fingers envelope hers, the smooth texture of her suit sliding against his skin. “I’m glad you’ll be joining us.”

“You think I’ll be good in program outreach?”

She smiled again, this time full of warmth. Their hands were still connected. “I think it’s the perfect place for you. And I know Marinette will be eager to work with you.”

There was something there, a secret wrapped in her words and her smile and the glint in her eyes, but Adrien figured that he could start figuring that out once his job started. For now, he let himself bask in the warmth of Ladybug’s approval, and the knowledge that no matter what people did and said, she would always be in his corner.

#my writing #mlb #fanfiction #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #chat noir #ladrien #ladynoir #ladybug knows?#maybe?

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half-bakedboy · 2 years

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where are you, blue flower

Pairing: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss Rated: Gen Prompt: Plants/Flowers

The second thing JJ noticed about Agent Emily Prentiss was that even after a few months with the team and Hotch’s official seal of approval, she hadn’t decorated her desk with anything more than a paper drop and an office-bought calendar.

read on ao3 or under the cut

The first thing JJ noticed about Agent Emily Prentiss was that she was smart. She wasn’t exactly on par with Reid’s genius status, but she was fluent in Arabic and, if JJ were to guess, a multitude of other languages. She showed no hesitation when Hotch threw her to the wolves–or wolf–and commanded her to sit in on a terrorist interrogation with Gideon. He even came back without his usual grimace on his face. JJ wouldn’t necessarily call it a smile but it was one of the closest she had ever seen on him.

As Emily grew into her spot on the team, JJ admired more than just her mind. Emily was quick witted in her remarks, dry in her humor, unbelievably confident, and breathtakingly beautiful. She was a woman no one wanted to mess with but one that everyone wanted to know–JJ more than most.

When Emily went on calls with the team, JJ was often left behind to deal with the press or team up with Garcia to assist the team from the comfortability of their home office. That left JJ with a lot of time twiddling her thumbs and waiting for information from her team on what move to make next. She was an on-the-go kind of person and sitting around wasn’t her favorite thing to do, so she found distractions.

One of those distractions was keeping up with the plants that Haley insisted Hotch keep in his office or organizing the multitude of books Reid brought in for Gideon to consume. She would often dust off her own desk that was adorned with small trinkets that made her smile and tokens of family’s appreciation sent to her as the rare thanks they received.

Emily’s desk never needed any fixing. In fact, even after a few months with the team and Hotch’s official seal of approval, she hadn’t decorated her desk with anything more than a paper drop and an office-bought calendar. That wasn’t necessarily rare in the BAU, but JJ took notice just the same. She hoped that, as Emily became even more like family, she might actually start to make a home there as everyone else did.

After a few more months–and the end of her patience–JJ took matters into her own hands.

Emily had been called out with Gideon to follow up with a death row inmate at Greensville Correctional Center just a few hours away. That gave JJ enough time to take an actual lunch and head over to the florist a few blocks away. She asked Garcia to go with her since both of them had finished their assigned work for the morning.

“I thought we were getting caffeinated, Jayj?” Penelope asked as JJ parked in front of the florist. “This overworked techie needs her energy juice.”

“And you’ll get it, promise. I just need to make a quick stop first. You can stay in here if you’d like but I’m sure you’ll have opinions in there,” JJ teased.

“I have opinions everywhere,” Penelope commented as they both exited the car and walked inside of the shop. “So, a florist. Something you want to tell me?” Penelope asked, a clear attempt to pry information.

“They’re for Emily,” JJ said. Penelope gasped and gripped JJ’s upper arm more tightly than JJ thought she had intended, her eyes widening almost comically. JJ rolled her eyes and laughed softly to ease up her grip. “They’re welcome to the team flowers, Pen, nothing more.”

“And here I thought we’d finally be getting the office romance I deserved,” Penelope said with a pout of her bright red lips. “Wait, she’s been with the team for months now…” she muttered suspiciously.

“Which is why it’s so strange she has nothing on her desk, right?” JJ asked, suddenly feeling like she was making a huge leap for no reason.

Penelope thought about it for a minute before nodding her head and beelining toward a bundle of colorful flowers. JJ briefly noticed the bright pinks and yellows with splashes of red and white mixed in but none of them caught her eye. Emily didn’t strike her as the kind of person who appreciated color over meaning or practicality. She didn’t even try to drag Penelope away from the vivid orange roses as she browsed.

“Are you looking for anything imparticular, dear?” A woman about JJ’s mother’s age, if she had to guess, approached her. She had a warm smile on her face and a name tag accented with small, blue stickers of a flower she didn’t immediately recognize.

“Oh, I’m– Not really?” JJ said with a small laugh as the woman–Erin, the name tag supplied–smiled a little wider.

“Why don’t you tell me who you’re looking for and maybe I can suggest something,” she offered.

“I don’t want to bother you…” JJ said on instinct. Erin put her hands on her hips and raised a sassy eyebrow in response.

“Please, I live to help out with the perfect floral arrangement. Erin,” she introduced herself, “I own the shop. Now, tell me. Who are you buying for and what’s the occasion?”

“Her name is Emily and, uh, I guess she’s a friend? I would like her to be a friend. She– Well, she’s a coworker but the rest of us are like family. She hasn’t really settled in yet and I was hoping to get her something to decorate her desk for when she comes back.” Speaking out loud, JJ thought the sentiment sounded entirely less appealing than when she came up with the idea.

“That’s just darling of you,” Erin responded, resting a palm on JJ’s shoulder. “Tell me more about this Emily. Who is she?”

“I, uh, don’t really know, actually. I guess this is kind of an offering to let her know that she can open up a little more,” JJ explained. She ran her fingers over a simple bouquet of sunflowers, more brown than yellow, but was quickly redirected when Erin spoke again.

“So you’re looking for friendship?” JJ nodded and Erin hummed. “Maybe a little trust added in?”

“Exactly,” JJ breathed, relieved that Erin might understand her a little more.

“What do you do for work?” Erin asked as she wandered around the shop, picking at a few flowers before shaking her head and pursing her lips.

“We’re with the FBI. The Behavior Analysis Unit.”

“Trust is integral in a career like that, is it not?” JJ nodded again as Erin shuffled through a few more bouquets.

Out of the corner of her eye, JJ spotted a bundle of flowers that, at first glance, didn’t seem to stand out as anything special. They almost seemed discarded away from all of the more seasonal bouquets set out on extravagant displays. At closer inspection, JJ noticed each flower was planted in its own pot. Attached to each stem were upwards of six blossoms with trumpet-shaped petals with a variety of colors. There was one almost hidden in the back, seven blossoms on the stem, each blooming a dark blue color JJ hadn’t noticed in any other bouquet.

“You’ve got a good eye,” Erin praised as she reached past JJ for the stem.

“Oh, I don’t, really. Flowers have never been–”

“Are you going to argue with the expert, Jayj?” Penelope pointed out, holding onto JJ’s arm when she finally pulled herself away from the more eye-catching bundles.

“What kind is this?” JJ asked, reaching out to run a finger over one of the deep blue petals.

“This is a freesia. They’re native to South Africa and are known for their incredible scent.” Erin held out the flower for JJ to sniff and as she did so, her senses were overcome with the sweetness.

“All flowers mean something, right?” Penelope asked Erin with a happy grin on her face.

“They do. Freesias have a multitude of meanings but I think the ones you care about most are the most important; friendship and trust,” Erin explained, raising her eyebrows as if letting JJ know her instincts were correct. JJ couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s perfect,” JJ said simply.

“There’s even seven of ‘em, Jayj!” Penelope pointed at each bloom as she recited, “Gideon, Hotch, Reid, Morgan, me, you, and Emily!”

“Isn’t that just something?” Erin noted with a tint of pride in her voice. “Should I go pack this one up for you?”

“Can we keep it in the pot? I think she’d prefer that over a vase,” JJ asked. Erin nodded and sent her a short wink before disappearing to the back office. When she arrived back, the flower had been transferred into a dark gray pot with new soil that had been slightly watered.

“This should be all set for Emily’s desk. The card taped to the bottom has all of the watering instructions but it’s really very simple. Is there anything else I can get you lovely ladies?” Erin asked from behind the counter.

“Pen, are you just going to ogle the flowers or pick some up for yourself?”

“It’s not as fun when you buy them for yourself,” Penelope complained with a pout.

“I’ll make sure to get one of the boys to treat you to some ASAP,” JJ promised, nudging Penelope’s arm with her elbow.

“You’re too good to me,” she practically sang back. JJ laughed as she gave Erin her card to pay and took another look over the flower. It seemed too simple on its own, without the others surrounding it, but JJ knew somehow that she made the right choice. Call it a gut instinct–those she’d learned how to trust.

“Alright, I’d love to see you girls back here any time,” Erin said as she waved them off.

By the time they made their way back to Quantico, Emily and Gideon were already on the road. JJ had placed the pot in a handful of places on Emily’s desk before settling on nestling them beside her computer screen with the instructions resting on her keyboard. JJ sat at her desk, playing with her fingers because she was suddenly nervous about her decision.

Which made no sense because they were just a gesture of friendship, right?

“Gideon, how was Greensville?” Hotch said a little while later when JJ had thoroughly distracted herself with her own piles of paperwork.

“The same as it always has been. Ricky sends his best,” Gideon noted, earning a ghost of a smile from Hotch. “You good to fill out the rest of the paperwork?” he directed toward Emily who hadn’t yet made it to her desk.

“Yes, sir. I got it,” she agreed, though JJ knew no other answer would be accepted.

Gideon nodded at her and walked to his office, shutting the door behind him. Hotch disappeared behind his own and as JJ glanced around, she realized that it would only be the two of them left for the evening. She briefly considered fleeing the wide open space where she could easily see Emily’s reaction to the flower but interest got the best of her. She leaned forward in her chair and pretended to focus on the paperwork on her desk, even though her eyes continued darting upward to where Emily’s desk rested.

“What is this?” JJ heard Emily mumble to herself quietly. She watched as Emily lifted up the instructions with a furrowed brow as if disappointed there wasn’t a note, then flinched when Emily’s eyes moved directly to her own. “Were these delivered?” she asked, glancing around the room almost suspiciously.

“Not, they, uh…” JJ found herself at a loss for words and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why.

“They’re a peace offering?” she suggested as if she didn’t know exactly who they came from.

“JJ, did someone leave these for me?” Emily asked, her hand immediately resting over the holster on her belt.

“I did!” JJ said quickly, standing up and holding her hands up in defense. “They’re from me. Well, Penelope and I, really, but mostly… me.”

“You got me flowers?” At the very least, JJ was relieved that Emily’s hand dropped to her side and away from her weapon, but her anxiety still lingered. “You said they were a peace offering. Did I… do something that makes you think I’m not peaceful?”

“No, Emily, that’s not what I meant. I just– I was bored today and I know I should’ve appreciated the lack of despair but I couldn’t help but notice you didn’t have much on your desk. I wanted to get you something that maybe makes you feel like… like you’re going to stay here–like we want you to stay here.”

“That’s–” JJ held her breath, “incredibly sweet. What are these?” Emily asked with a grin on her face, leaning in to sniff at the petals.

“If you ask Garcia, she’d say they’re us.” At Emily’s inquisitive look, JJ explained, “There are seven blossoms and apparently this one,” JJ pointed at the last blossom, “is you.”

“I don’t see one with a perpetual frown or one with an excessive crease in their forehead so I can only imagine that the first two are Hotch and Gideon?” Emily joked, earning a giggle from JJ in return.

“You got it. That one is Reid so be careful how much water you give this thing or it might start spouting off random facts about each state’s official flower,” JJ teased right back. Emily laughed right along with her and it was like all of her nerves washed away.

“Freesia,” Emily read from the small packet of information. “Do they mean something?”

“The florist said they were for friendship and trust,” JJ explained, leaning her hip against Emily’s desk as she looked over the flower again. She was really grateful for her choice considering the smile that still graced Emily’s face.

“Is that what you want from me?” Emily asked, almost hesitantly, like she was scared for JJ’s answer.

“It’s what I’m giving you,” JJ responded. “I wanted you to know that you’re a part of this team now and I don’t take that lightly. I would like the chance to earn your friendship and your trust–when you’re ready, that is.”

“Yeah, I’d– I’d like that,” Emily said softly. After a few moments of peering down at the petals, she glanced up at JJ with a twinkle in her eye that JJ hadn’t yet seen from her. “You know, in some places, freesias are a popular wedding flower to signify the trust a couple has in each other.”

“I didn’t know that,” JJ said bashfully, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear.

“Why’d you choose blue?” Emily asked as she sat, that sparkle in her eye still shining bright. JJ didn’t answer in fear of letting some subconscious thoughts flow that might ruin the friendship and trust JJ was trying to build. “Google it when you get home,” Emily suggested.

“I will,” JJ said hesitantly.

Emily packed her briefcase with a few bundles of paper before standing again and making her way to the door. Before she could leave, though, she turned and sent a genuine smile in JJ’s direction.

“I’ve missed getting flowers. Thank you, truly,” she said. JJ just nodded and smiled softly back at her as she left.

Then, she pulled up Google and typed in ‘blue flower meaning’, giggling to herself as she read the first definition.

A blue flower stands for desire, love, and the metaphysical striving for the infinite and unreachable. It symbolizes hope and the beauty of things.

“How about that?” JJ whispered to herself, biting her lip to try and contain the joy that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

(On their first date, Emily bought JJ a bouquet of blue roses that she pressed almost immediately after. At their wedding, JJ walked down the aisle with an almost identical bouquet and in the middle, a long stem of dark blue freesia that matched the beautiful blossom pinned into Emily’s hair.)

#jemily #jj jareau #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #criminal minds #femslash #femslash february #my writing

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nikadoesanart · 3 years

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Will Jouno assist Fukuchi?

In ch 92, Fukuchi shows Bram to Jouno (though I'd say introduce would be a better way to describe it cause Jouno's blind but minor inconsequential details) and reveals that he is the mastermind behind the Agency being framed and asks Jouno to help him. Personally, I think that Jouno is just a bit more likely to form some kind of alliance with Fukuchi but not necessarily a full-on partnership, much less to the point where it'd be considered working more with Fukuchi as Kamui of the DOA than helping Fukuchi as Fukuchi himself or as the commander of the HD.

Also, I am using @buraihatranslations translation of ch 92, so that's where my exact phrasing for quotations and page counts are coming from. You can read the full translation here.

The main context of our focus

“I’m the mastermind. Jouno, wouldn’t you like to assist me?” (p 19)

For starters, I don’t think Fukuchi is being a reckless idiot for saying this. Considering that he's literally Kamui, he obviously must’ve considered this as a calculated but worthwhile risk to take. As I’ve previously mentioned in my ch 89.5 cover art analysis, Jouno is the most on the fence of the HD in terms of supporting Fukuchi vs believing in the Agency’s innocence. In fact, as we learned in 92, he simply doesn’t care and can therefore be considered a (nearly) neutral party. Jouno is also basically a living breathing lie detector, so he can tell apart the likes of jokes and lies from the truth very easily. Jouno also cares primarily about being able to hear his victim’s suffering, regardless of who’s right or wrong or innocent or guilty (as he’s told Aya). It logically just makes the most sense for Fukuchi to try to get Jouno on his side out of all the HD because :

Teruko is a simp for Fukuchi but she still cares about civilians and being able to take pride in her job as an officer (Sky Casino)

Tachihara has already clearly established his doubts in the ADA being guilty in front of all of the HD (ch 89) and told Fukuchi that he sees himself as more Mafia than HD now (ch 89.5)

Tecchou has a very strong sense of justice and cares about fairness, so asking him to quite literally join the side of the terrorists would never work out and would essentially be a waste of both time and possibly personnel too

What does Jouno personally want?

As I've already briefly touched on (and presumably you already read ch 92 before this), Jouno has already stated his goals, which gives us a good sense of where he stands morally.

“I just want to hear the voice of someone’s suffering.” (p 9)

“To hurt people under the name of the law[,] corner them and hear their “sound” as they break.” (p 10)

Now that we’ve more than established that Jouno is in fact, a sadist, I do want to emphasize Jouno’s mention of the law. Not only does he enjoy making people suffer (specifically psychologically, as he’s mentioned before), but he specifically mentions that he wants to do it “under/in the name of the law”, meaning that he likely either only wants to do it in a “justifiable”/“excusable” way or that he doesn’t want or plan to be held accountable for his actions (or worse, both). Until we get a backstory reveal, there could be any number of reasons for him being this way. I think it’s fairly likely that he’s from a similar situation to Fukuchi (took part in the Great War, and the mental scarring of everything he experienced then caused him to find some sort of extreme and inhumane goal or enjoyment to cope with it all). So for example, he could have been drafted for the War because he’s an ability user (or maybe he already happened to be in some sort of training where he received recognition for his skills, ie. the military academy or part of a renowned dojo) and eventually that led him to become a sadist because coping mechanism or discovering that he’s a sadist because of some extreme circumstances (ie. having to interrogate a prisoner for the first time and realizing how much he enjoyed giving and hearing the psychological torture).

Example of Jouno's excuses and justification

“I was just asking suspects for cooperation!”

“Then do it after they sign the consent form for judicial transaction. Otherwise, it’s not justice.” (p 12)

On one hand, we have Jouno who is very quick to make excuses for his actions by using his position as an officer to justify his behavior. Despite knowingly and intentionally using extreme measures, beyond what's necessary for the situation, he's using the law and his job to try to justify it. (If you're seeing some real-world parallels here, good job!)

On the other hand, we have Tecchou who very clearly values actual justice that is fair to all parties (as we’ve seen previously with him promising the cafe owner that the ADA will get a fair trial at the very least in ch 72). In fact, I think it’d be safe to say that Tecchou is the one that values impartial justice and fairness the most out of the HD, but that's not the focus here.

Parallelisms and which other organizations would suit him and his goals

(p 15-16)

For starters, Jouno appears to be on the side that believes that the ADA is a part of/affiliated with the DOA (if I’m not reading this wrong)

Also, I’d like to highlight him saying:

“ ‘Our tastes match’, if I should say. The abusive nature. To be honest, I’m almost empathetic. If we happen to lose this battle, I wouldn’t mind reemploying to their side. Not to say that we wouldn’t possibly lose.”

Jouno has no doubt in the strength of the HD but also just wants to be on the abusively cruel side dishing out the suffering. If he’s able to use his position to excuse his actions (ie. what he said about Aya just a few pages ago), then that’s even better for him. The ADA has an ability permit and currently ⅓ of the police force is siding with them and believes in their innocence. Joining the ADA next, should the HD lose, would be the most advantageous for him, if the allegations of them being abusively cruel terrorists were true.

In my opinion, his actual next best organization to join, based on his interests and goals so far as well as his own methods, would be the PM. They have an ability permit too and he’d have just as many chances to be either on the front lines and/or work with the interrogation team. With what his goals has revealed about his moral code, he’s just more cut out for the nature and surface level goals of the PM than the ADA. In fact, Dazai has already admitted to the two of them being alike (which we as the readers can deduce is for their methods in manipulation and interrogation) and Dazai has previously mentioned that he’d sometimes have to come in and help Kouyou’s interrogation team with the job (ch 19). Jouno joining the PM could be a very easy transition, should he stop caring about doing things “under the name of the law” (p 10). However, there is a loophole with the PM being a part of the tripartite tactic, of which the whole goal is to protect Yokohama. Both we as the readers and the members of the ADA know that despite their methods, the PM does in fact care about upholding the overall peace and safety of Yokohama. The reason why he jokes about joining the ADA and makes no mention of the PM (at least in my opinion), is because before all of this, to the public eye, the ADA was one of the “good guys” that were upholding the law whereas the PM is quite literally the mafia. (I touch on this part too in my ch 89.5 cover art analysis.)

Back to answering Fukuchi's question now

I feel like Jouno is ever so slightly more likely to form some kind of alliance with Fukuchi as Kamui but not straight up joining the DOA/allying with the DOA as a whole because again, Jouno is very much sadistic but he also specifically tells Aya (a possible hostage and a confirmed supporter of the ADA) that he specifically wants to “to hurt people under the name of the law” (p 10). Fully siding with the DOA and Kamui would mean that he’d no longer be working under the protection of the law, by any extent, unless Fukuchi were to create some kind of excuse as the commander of the HD (ie. Jouno was under the control of the vampirism). He might work with Fukuchi but I don’t think he’d work with or for Kamui. Either way, I think that overall it’s a very close tie.

In short:

If he says yes then he’d risk not having the law to protect him any longer, which is a part of what he clearly wants to have. The only way around this is some sort of agreement where Fukuchi will create a believable excuse for Jouno helping or he does it in a very indirect way that won't be noticed by others or can easily be played off as some sort of coincidence.

If he says no, he’d likely have to go up against Fukuchi and Bram and risk getting turned as well. I doubt he’d be killed since that would raise too many questions with Tecchou and Teruko, and thanks to Tachihara’s fight, I’d say it’s all been explicitly stated that still being alive is a part of the requirements to be turned into a vampire. When Tachihara tried to off himself as a last resort, specifically to stop Fukuchi and Bram from turning him into a vampire, Fukuchi personally prevented that from happening (ch 90).

Jouno has established that he just wants to hear the sound of people suffering (which Fukuchi would probably have learned of or figured out by now, considering that he’s the commanding officer here), which can be achieved from quite literally any side. However, his condition to this is doing it "under the name of the law", so being on a side that has the law’s protection and works on the front lines is where he’d be closest to achieving this with minimal risk (so realistically the HD or ADA). I doubt Jouno would have any interest in joining the Special Division because I doubt he’d get to do much interrogating or front-line work there, in addition to him having less of an excuse for his cruel methods, and I've already gone over why he'd rather join the ADA than the PM.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd analysis #bsd spoilers #bsd theories #bsd jouno #bsd 92 #bsd chapter 92

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soulmate-game · 4 years

Text

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 5: Overprotection

Disclaimer: Dick was adopted when he was 12 in this fic. Just for math’s sake.

—*—*—*—*—*

“What.”

Damian stared at his father, face carefully blank. Bruce grimaced, shifting.

“I said, you have a half sister. Biological.”

Four sets of eyes bored into him, from all of his sons. They were gathered not in the Batcave for once, but just one of the sitting rooms in the Manor.

“... and what, Father, does that have to do with the French class visiting Gotham?” Damian asked again, posture steadily growing stiffer and more and more stone like. He was trying hard to suppress emotions, but not even he was quite sure what those emotions were yet. Anger? Fear? Resentment? Probably. He might have detected some excitement there too, deep, deep down. Bruce took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for this.

“Well. I’ve kept up with her life, but last time I checked she had no idea that she was adopted. When her birth mother died, it was right around the time I adopted Dick. She was still an infant, and I knew I was not equipped to handle taking care of a baby—“

“Father,” Damian interrupted again. “You sent her off. Have her up for adoption,” he said slowly, as if realizing that that would have been his fate had his father known about his existence earlier, as well. It was almost ironic, considering how Bruce seemed to have a problem with adopting other children nowadays. Bruce nodded.

“She was adopted by a couple in France. Paris, to be exact. I’ve kept up to date, asking them to just send me a letter or email once or twice a year about the general stuff she’s been up to. Nothing too invasive. A few pictures. And last time I asked them, they said that she had no idea about being adopted or that I was her father,” Bruce sighed again, running a hand over his face. “But I think she does.”

“Why?” Jason asked, confused as everyone else to the change in subject. Except Tim and Damian, who seemed to be quickly connecting the dots.

“Oh boy,” Tim breathed. Bruce just nodded.

“Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She is the one who organized the trip for her class to come here, to Gotham. She is the one who entered and won our international internship competition, and turned that into an excuse to get her entire class to come here for two weeks. To get to know the place she will be living for her internship next year, after she graduates Lycee, France’s version of highschool essentially.”

Tim winced. He had been in charge of the internship competition, and Bruce had given him free reign. He had chosen the winner without even thinking to run it by his adoptive father.

“Bruce—“ Tim tried, but the man just held up a hand.

“I don’t blame you. I haven’t been paying too much attention to her life, and I didn’t expect her to do something like this. But we know now that, if she does know and this isn’t a giant coincidence,”

“Unlikely,” Dick agreed, wincing. “Possible, but unlikely.”

Bruce huffed in agreement. “Then, we know she is very resourceful, determined, and has skills that impressed Tim enough to choose her out of tens of thousands of contest participants worldwide.”

“The minimum requirement for a Wayne,” Damian finally managed to bite out, still coping with this proverbial slap in the face but doing his best to handle it. He was seventeen damn it, and had come a long way from who he used to be. He could handle this. He could. He would.

Bruce rolled his eyes, and then leaned forward with his hands braced on the table. “Okay. So now we need to make plans.”

“Plans?” Jason asked, frowning. “For how you’re gonna tell her without getting your faces plastered over every tabloid in the city right?”

“No,” the older man shook his head. “Plans to keep her alive, unharmed, and unaffiliated with us until she leaves. I will not be making any public appearances unless absolutely necessary, so trips to the Tower are out of the question—“

“Are you…” Jason’s eyes were wide. “Trying to keep her out of our Shitshow? Because yeah, kudos to you even if it took you way too long to learn, but if she went through all this trouble to come here then it's probably too late.”

Dick nodded. “If she’s anything like you and Damian, there’s no way she’ll back off easy. Avoiding her will only make it worse on you, and probably the rest of us too.”

Damian stared straight into his father's eyes, glare sharp and searching. “What is this about, Father? You have not worried this much about any of us—“

“Because none of you were as naive!” He barked, quickly catching himself and taking a breath. “You all had a way you could benefit from this life. A way I could help you. But Marinette has both of the parents she has known her whole life, they treat her wonderfully. They care. She’s never had to worry about constantly moving, or fighting, or going hungry. The only deaths she has ever experienced have been from afar and due to natural causes. She designs as a hobby and has no problem with socializing or handling emotions in a healthy way— introducing her to our life holds no benefit for her. The only thing it can give her is unnecessary danger and risk and secrets.”

“Yeah, well. I guess Batman doesn’t know everything, does he?” A new voice startled them all from the doorway, making everyone's head whip over to see who had managed the near-impossible and snuck up on all of them.

Standing there, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, was a short part-Asian woman in her late teens. Her midnight black hair was cascading down her back in one thick braid, tied off at the end with an indigo ribbon. Her eyes were a piercing cobalt blue, matching those of Bruce perfectly. Her jaw was clenched, and the infamous Bat-glare coming from her was directed right at the person who made the expression infamous in the first place.

“Marinette,” Bruce breathed, shoulders squaring. “Your plane isn’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow.”

“It won’t,” she agreed. “I took a portal here. You see, my extensive research into Batman’s known habits and tactics, which I started after I figured out about your alter ego last year, informed me that you tend to go to the extremes to protect people you deem incapable of protecting themselves, and are also prone to idiotic self-sacrificing behavior in the form of purposely making yourself look like an ass.”

Jason chuckled. “She’s got you down to a T, B,” he quipped with a grin despite the caution still in his eyes. “But let’s back up a bit, little Spitfire. What’s this about a portal?”

Marinette pushed off the doorframe, walking closer to the scattered group. Tim and Jason were spread across one sofa, Damian on the other with Dick, and Bruce was occupying an armchair. Marinette just walked until she stood where she could easily be seen by everyone, but also had nobody at her back.

“The portal is part of a bigger story. Like, the fact that father dearest wanted to protect me so badly that he placed the JLE in Paris, but didn’t realize that relations with that branch were so bad that the JLE never informed him or the JLA about getting kicked out of France and reassigning themselves to Italy. Bruce never kept a close enough eye on the city, because he wanted to keep emotional distance, and therefore was completely blind to when a supervillain showed up and terrorized Paris for almost five years,” she continued, her glare never leaving Bruce’s face.

“I found out about being adopted when I was eight. I found out who my biological father was when I was thirteen. Last year, I finally put in the work to connect Bruce Wayne to Batman. And yeah, I never told Maman and Papan, because they have never completely understood me. They wouldn’t have understood that I was fine with having no contact with you, back then. That my snooping had nothing to do with being unhappy with them as my parents. They would have immediately assumed they were inadequate when I am merely curious by nature. But then I ended up being chosen to be one of the child heroes that fought said domestic terrorist that showed up five years ago. And I sure as hell couldn't tell them that a magical artifact showed up on my desk one day and that the god inhabiting it told me to fight the monsters the villain made and just, just go with it. I couldn’t tell them when I went from being one of two Parisian heroes to being the leader of a team. I couldn’t tell them when my elderly mentor, unable to fight by our side but who had at least provided emotional support and knowledge, passed away and gave me his title and responsibilities. I’m sick and tired of being protected, Monsieur Wayne,” Marinette didn’t seem to notice the tears that had begun to fall.

“I’m sick of it. I know you were trying to keep me safe, but I fought a war I wasn’t prepared for. I died, thousands of times. But my own powers and the powers I have my partners brought me back to life. Over and over. I don’t need protection, damn it. I don’t need you to distance yourself, because you're the only fucking person I can call a parent who might understand,” she held out a hand, her scowl turning into a gentle smile. “I have so much I need to talk about. Before I drown under all these secrets. Please. I’ll go back through another portal before my parents notice I’m gone, but I’ll be back in town tomorrow when my plane lands. Just. Please, don’t push me away. That’s all I ask. I want to get to know you, all of you. I… I need family who understands.”

“Thousands.” Bruce repeated, all of them still recovering from Marinette’s very sudden, info-dumping speech. “You died… thousands of times?”

Marinette laughed, but it was a sad sound. No mirth there. “I gave my friend a magical artifact that reverses time, and the artifact that gives me my own powers can reverse any damage from a fight I use it in. Even death. Sending untrained teenagers to fight a villain three times their age makes some kind of failsafe like that kind of necessary.”

“Fuck,” Jason cursed under his breath. “Well. You’re welcome to join the living Zombie club,” he offered. The girl snorted, giving him a watery grin in thanks.

“I’m sure you know about my stance on powers and metas,” Bruce decided to say, wincing immediately after. That wasn’t what he meant to say. At all. He earned another brief glare for it.

“I’m not a meta, and I only have powers when I use the artifact to transform, thereby borrowing powers from the miniature god that the artifact houses. Think of it like doctor fate, but my gods are actually not parasites and my powers are much more… specialized. I had to learn combat on my own, and I was able to train in my sleep with the past users of this artifact. That includes people like Fa Mulan, Joan of Arc, and someone you actually know— Hippolyta. I’ve mastered more fighting styles by now than I care to remember, and I’ve done gymnastics since I was three. I don’t know if my parents told you that in their letters. I even won the gold in the nationwide France gymnastics competition two years ago. I assure you, I don’t rely on my powers nearly as much as you might think.”

Bruce swallowed. “I can… greet you when your class arrives.”

Marinette grinned. “Well, that’s a start.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Idk what happened, I don’t know if I like this at all but oh well. I’m posting it anyway. Maybe one of you will like it. I… couldn’t really find any other way to do this so oh well. Also, I think Mulan was a past Dragon..? But I put her as a Ladybug because I Can.

@momothefemur @ladybug-182 @starlightshield @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @sam-i-am-0222 @bluesimani @ruelukas22 @acoolspacegirl @iamablinkmarvelarmy @meme991001

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #b!dbwm2020 #bio dad bruce wayne #platonic daminette #platonic brucinette #day 5 #not my fave at all

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

Text

HASO, “Take Me to Your Leader.”

I hope you guys are all having a great week, and I hope you enjoy the read.

Captain Kell sat in his room's boots up on the small desk space as he watched the news report filtering in from over the feed.

“Early this morning the chairwoman of the UN has announced a state of emergency and launched a formal investigation into the attempted assassination of the GA’s Admiral Vir. This all comes in response to the announcement by UN president late last night that they were unable to identify connections to any internal terrorist organizations after a woman was caught attempting to assassinate the Admiral during one of his speeches two months ago. The failed assassination was thanks to 25 year old marine Angle Ramirez who dove in front of the bullet for his commanding officer, and is now (as his family claims) fully healed and back to work. Since the incident, GA and UNSC leaders alike have encouraged Admiral Vir to stay away from earth as much as possible and remain on his ship until further notice. At a request from one of our journalists yesterday morning, he agreed to a statement from his ship the Omen.”

There was a flickering on the screen as a face appeared on the news feed. It was, somewhat from a distance, and the lens seems grainy from radiation interference, but the man seen was tall and blond and had one green eye though he was wearing an eyepatch. Captain kell thought he looked a little more lean than the admiral, but it was hard to tell with all the distortion.

When the man began to speak there was something missing in the voice as well, but it would hardly be noticeable.

There was a knock at his door and he quickly threw his feet down from the desk walking over to throw the door open and step outside into the hall. Angelo was waiting for him there and without saying a word the two of them walked down the long hallway and to the planning room.

Mace was still discussing with some of the other men and women there., and Geea and Beatrice were still loitering at the back.

Captain Kell couldn’t keep the distaste from his thoughts as he looked at the two of them. There was a prime example of toxic love if he had ever seen it. The two were clearly partnered or, at the very least, dating, but he had never seen two people who enjoyed pissing each other off as much as they did. WIth them there was plenty of jealousy and mistrust to go around. And as for Geea’s views on Drev religion, well they were backwards to say the least.

He had seem the same sort of fanaticism in certain shamed drev generals after the war, radical, and suicidal almost in nature.

She had no real idea what the meaning of the new law was.

As soon as he walked in the two women turned to look up at him, their arms crossed over their chests. Beatrice was playing with some big ass knives like that was likely to impress anyone, but really all he saw was some crazy asshole whose parents probably didn’t give her enough attention when she was a kid.

He sad down at the table.

Geea leaned forward expectantly.

“Setting course/”

He turned his head to look up at her, “Yes, setting course to whatever cesspit of corruption spawned you.”

Geea pulled back, “Excuse me, but we hired you for a job, not for insults.” One of her hands reached for the weapons on her belt, but Noble stepped forward spear at the ready. He was a good foot taller than she was, and he knew for a fact he was probably a better warrior. He had a natural talent for it.

He leaned back in his seat, “You hired me for a job and now expect me to fling my dead corpse at the Omen like my ship is going to be able to handle that.” he shook his head, “You hired me which means we are going to do this MY way, which means we are going to do it quiet, and we are going to do it proper. That means NONE of this comes back on me. If we show up at the omen right now and bust down their doors, we are going to get atomized by two platoons of marines and an entire clan of Drev. LEts not also forget that the Admiral Isn’t exactly going to be easy to just kill.” Captain Kell waved a hand wildly, “He has a fucking Drev SAINT on his crew, that is hardly something I think I want to deal with.” he shook his head, “No no, this is going to take me a lot longer to plan, and it is going to require a lot more material that I don’t already have.”

Geea bristled in impatience and indignation.

“I am not going to throw my life away for this mission, and if you want to push that, than I will throw you out of the airlock faster than you can say, “please captain, please I was just being a whiny little bitch.” The room was silent around Geaa’s seething, but he paid her no mind. She didn’t exactly scare him.

She was a minor player in the black market at best, and the way she moved told him she was no great shakes as a warrior either. Probably used to fighting humans so developed a habit of using brute force to overcome them with her height. As for Beatrice, he had a feeling that she made up for skill mostly in unpredictability and sheer fury.

Anyone can look scary if they scream real loud and flail their knives at you.

The way their crew behaved was enough to tell him as much. No one on the ship really respected them, and Geea ruled mostly out of ear, her men were not as loyal to her as she thought they might be, and he had a feeling that, for the right price, he could buy them off if he wanted.

He rested his palms flat against the table before him, “You understand if I am going to do this I am going to need all the right equipment. You want the man gone but I want it to look like some freak disappearance The last thing my crew needs is the long arm of the GA down on our heads.” he shook his head, “No we need to do this strategically, and we need to do this quietly, and we are going to start by getting the tech we need to pull this off without being seen.”

He turned to look at the two of them, “I am assuming that you two know where I can get those sorts of things…. Under the radar.”

Geea crossed her arms over her chest, “And YOU don’t. You are a pirate after all.”

“Yeah, I generally tend to STEAL from other people and sell it to middle men. I don’t generally tend to buy any of the goods.”

Geea stood, waiting for a long moment before finally uncurling her hands in annoyance, “Fine, Fine, but we make this quick.”

He nodded his head once and motioned her to continue on following her up and to the bridge where he watched her set a course.

He tried to make it look like he wasn’t watching her, but in the back of his mind he was quickly memorizing the coordinates that he saw appearing on screen. Granted he did have a bot installed that should copy it for him, but you can never trust technology to do exactly what you expect it to do.

When she was done, he moved forward and slid into the Captain’s chair, familiar with the machine as he prepared it for a warp sequence.

Despite him being very familiar with this ship, more than one time he found himself accidentally reaching for controls that weren’t there. He cursed his muscle memory, though he forced the ship into doing what he wanted, alerting the crew to the imminent warp before he could accidentally kill one of them by sheer freak accident.

Geea watched him from behind.

He knew she didn’t much like him.

That was fine by him. She wasn’t exactly the kind of person that he would want to be liked by.

They came out of warp a few moments later with a hard lurch through the internal dampeners were doing their job to avoid smearing him across the front windscreen like window pizza.

She walked up to stand beside him and rested her hand of the chair, the gesture reminded him of someone else, and it felt wrong to have her do it, though he tried not to show his discomfort.

“Just beyond that asteroid.”

Captain Kell raised an eyebrow. This was all very interesting. Here he was thinking they would end up back on Noctopolis, for he had been sure that that was the hub of all pirate activity in the universe, but he guessed not. As they came around another asteroid, his eyes fell on a large chunk of rock that must have been over ten miles wide in his shi[s estimation, and from here he could already see the hive of docking ports and extending protrusions built into the rock.

He blinked in awe at the glittering blue lights and the hive of activity surrounding the massive asteroid.

Ships flew in and out through open docking bays landing here and there on extending arms. Good were moved by silent crane arms through space as add ons were constantly being made by men in space suits scurrying over the rock. The palace was…. Amazing at the same time it was an absolute disaster of engineering. You would never see something like tat made by the GA or UNSC, but from here he could see plenty of influence from all parties.

As they flew closer, they were absolutely dwarfed by the massive rock, and it’s protruding arms. All around him he saw human building techniques, and Tesraki logos stamped on almost everything as they moved forward. Massive viewing screens were all around them doing advertisements on things would would never have seen on a location run by UNSC or GA interference.

The one to his right was some sort of bootleg pill for weightloss, while, on the other side, someone was advertising some kind of flamethrower. The screen above that was giving the specs for the newest design in railgun technology.

His eyes were wide as he stared at all of it, and his heart began to race fast inside his chest.

Now THIS was awesome.

Being a space pirate sure did have its perks.

Over the radio feed static rolled in and out as the broadcasts from the different advertisements tried to pick up his frequency.

But one voice came in clear and crisp above all others, “Unknown aircraft. Identify yourself.”

“This is the Infinity requesting docking.”

There was a momentary pause over the other end of the line, as their ship was likely scanned before, “Docking permission granted, please proceed to hanger E docking space 6.”

He did as ordered, flying his ship down to the entrance of the docking bay, where he was ordered to slow, and then a large mechanical hand grabbed them around the hull and pulled them further into the asteroid.

They were dragged inside a ways, though he could definitely have flown in himself, and eventually sat down on E6.

There was a sharp jolt as they made connection with the airlock, and he stood rom his spot, turning and walking past Geea and towards the cargo bay where his men were waiting. He looked at them each in turn, making slow eye contact with them.

“You know what to do?”

There was a nod as they recognized the true words behind his eye contact, and they quickly moved into pairs of two discussing which piece of “equipment” they were looking for. It likely wouldn’t take them long, but he didn’t expect that part of their mission to take that long anyway.

Following after them, he was accompanied by Geea, Beatrice and Noble as they walked out into the tube and finally, into the absolutely massive atrium of the hidden Pirate city.

He had to stop, he just couldn’t help it, it was like nothing he had ever seen before, and his mind just couldn’t wrap itself around the massive room full of people and billboards and holograms. There were railed transports on the floor, and there were vendors selling strange food at every turn. It might have been any normal metropolitan area if it weren’t for the sort of advertisements for weapons, and strange illegal creams.

There was one place that was advertising body modifications….. With a ten percent discount if you got the limb removed with them as well.

On another wall someone was advertising a new mechanical eye. The technology hadn’t been released to the public yet, but the features…. Well the features were amazing. He found himself dragged in and rendered mostly stunned. They had him hooked by the first demonstration.

He wanted a cool new mechanical eye.

But Geea grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him, “Aren’t we supposed to be doing something.”

Angrily he frowned and held up a hand turning on her with his eyes narrowed.

He prodded her in the chest in a show of dominance towards her. Letting her know that he wasn’t afraid of being insulted or intimidated by someone like her. To him she was nothing.

“Look, I’m not stupid. I know that this genius little assasination attempt wasn’t your idea, so right here and right now, you better take me to the asshole who set you up for this is you can color me gone. I don’t work through third parties.” He prodded her in the chest again with one finer, “I don’t trust them.”

The Drev stared down at him with absolute rage and consternation.

“Don’t touch me.” She hissed.

He prodded her again, “Just try and stop me.”

She reached for his hand, but he caught her by the wrist and twisted it. He knew the way Drev joints worked, so he knew exactly what NOT to do. She howled in pain and Beatrice moved forward to help, but a spear to her throat by Noble was enough to stop her in her tracks.

“Show me your boss, or your girlfriend becomes a kabob, your choice.”

There was a sharp growl and finally Geea agreed, taking her hand back with some measure of pain and annoyance, “Fine, fine…. Follow me.”

She stalked away grumpily and Noble kept an eye on beatrice as the were led further into the station.

The captain kept his head turning this way and that distracted by the bright and colorful ads, advertising things that he wanted, and some things that he didn’t.

To his surprise, more than once he saw advertisements for Iron eye Knockoffs. He would have dared get a procedure done on this back alley asteroid, but it was still quite shocking. This air of shock continued along with him as he was led down through the darkness and into the tight passages and tunnels of the Asteroid.

Eventually Geea stopped in front of a door and knocked once.

The camera above the door whirred and looked down at them. Geea waved to it and with a hiss it finally opened.

They were led into a small waiting room with pristine little couches as if he was expecting to see a doctor at any moment, but after a few minutes of sitting another door opened and they were allowed through into the next room.

Geea told him to stay put as she was led behind yet another door.

Not to be left Behind, Beatrice followed after, giving him the opportunity to slip over to the door and quickly deploy a small circular camera which used technology unknown to him to see through the door.

It streamed directly into his fake eye as he closed the real one, and glanced around the room.

He could hear voices, and enhanced the sound of his implants.

“Did you get the assassin.”

“Yes, but there have been some, hiccups.”

“What might that be?”

“He is insisting on meeting his employers.”

The voice seemed almost bored with the idiot pirates, “Then let him meet someone, he doesn’t have to know. Jerah over there will do just fine.”

He turned his fake eye towards the source of the voice falling on some sort of hologram. He quickly looked up just as Geea was turning back towards the door.

He managed to make it up to the person’s face, a Rundi, how str-

Then he froze in shock and disbelief.

Geea reached towards the door, and it was only with a swift movement he was able to pull his camera away in time an leap from the door as she stepped from the room.

He tried to keep the horror and shock on his face in check as he was led into the room to meet his “employer.”

He didn’t care though.

He knew the truth.

There was plenty of evidence on that camera. Evidence that the chairwoman of the GA had ordered his assassination.

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years

Text

Only Human

Post 5x05. Angst. Riley POV. It’s sad.

*****

Only human. That’s what Jack was.

As a kid, Riley thought he was invincible. Nothing bad could ever happen to him. And if it did, he could always find a way out. Like when Riley busted him for picking flowers from her yard to give to her mom on their first date, or when he charmed his way out of yet another speeding ticket.

As an adult, Riley thought he was invincible. He and Mac pulled off crazy stunts Riley could barely wrap her head around, and they always came out alright. Whatever gods or forces of the universe were looking down on Jack Dalton clearly liked him and wanted him to stick around.

It took the sight of a flag-covered casket for Riley to realize Jack Dalton was only human.

The one man she thought would never truly leave her was gone. For good this time.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

Until there was. Until Mac received that postcard—that last piece of Jack—and suddenly they were flying to Croatia to crack his final clue. Until they were the ones hunting a not-actually-dead Kovac. Until they were the ones stuck in a trap laid by the same woman who murdered Jack.

Riley would’ve snapped that blonde bitch’s neck if Mac hadn’t stopped her.

Rotting in a cell for the rest of eternity was too good a fate for the person who cut Jack’s life short.

Normally, Riley would’ve felt smart for catching a whole taped confession like that, but this time she just felt cold. Empty. No amount of justice would even begin to heal the Jack-shaped wound in her heart.

The flight home seemed like it would never end. Riley didn’t even feel the burn of the whiskey Russ handed her as she knocked it back like a shot. If she had the energy to get up, she would’ve drank the rest of the bottle.

Even Mac sitting beside her didn’t bring Riley any comfort. She wanted to scream at the universe until her voice was hoarse, cursing it for ripping the closest thing she ever had to a dad from her grasp. It seemed like just yesterday they made amends and he was her dad again.

But it wasn’t.

That was more than five years ago, and the few years Riley had with him were the best of her life. Even though half the time they spent together usually involved trying not to get killed.

Riley couldn’t help but think that if she had been there, had been part of that task force, hunting Kovac with Jack, she would’ve connected the dots Jack missed and realized the rescue op was a trap. She could’ve kept him alive.

Because as a team—Jack, Mac, and herself—they were invincible. But alone, they were only human.

Since that first drive with Mac, Riley drove the GTO every day. She drove it to work, to the grocery store, to the gym. She even drove it just for the sake of driving it, wasting gas with no destination in mind. On those days, she usually found herself ordering a brisket sandwich at Jack’s favorite Texas barbeque restaurant. Most of the time, she was so numb her body revolted at the idea of food, but Riley forced herself to eat the damn sandwich anyway, since she had to enjoy it for both of them now.

Driving Jack’s car was the closest thing to feeling like he was with her again.

She even stole one of Jack’s Metallica t-shirts from Mac to sleep in, but the GTO was where Riley felt his presence best.

Presence. Like all that was left of her invincible dad was a ghost, following her around quoting Bruce Willis movies and harassing her about leaving fingerprints on his car.

Soldiers died all the time. So did agents. That was part of the job. But Riley never thought her agents would die. Not really. Not when they avoided death so well. And if they were to die, they’d all go at the same time, doing something incredibly stupid. If you go kaboom, I go kaboom. That was Jack’s promise. The whole team’s promise.

“We were supposed to go kaboom together,” Riley whispered to herself, parking the GTO in Mac’s driveway. She blinked back the tears threatening to escape.

Her eyes caught the old basketball hoop. Mac and Jack used to spend hours playing HORSE right in this very spot. Jack usually won.

Mac had invited her over for dinner, but Riley couldn’t yet bring herself to go inside. A week had passed since Jack’s funeral, but since then, that first step into Mac’s house made Riley feel like she was permanently stuck at the wake, pressed against the wall and choking on tears as fate carved a gaping hole in her chest. Mac’s house—one of her favorite places in the whole world—was heavy with sorrow and guilt.

No matter how many times Mac repeated that they shouldn’t feel guilty, the what-ifs still stuck around like shackles around Riley’s wrists and ankles. She knew Mac felt the same way, even though he hid it for her sake.

Riley barely mustered the courage to go inside.

She made it two steps in when her gaze locked on Mac, standing in the kitchen, a folded American flag in his hands.

Riley thought of Jack's promise again. If you go kaboom, I go kaboom. And suddenly she was furious. Furious at Jack for walking into a trap alone. Furious at him for dying. Furious at the government—the same government she served—that sent a flag home in place of a man. Her hands shook.

Every minute she wasn't crying, Riley was angry. She tried to direct it, use it to make sure that woman never saw the light of day again. Riley refused to even call the woman by her name. She murdered Jack. She shot Bozer. She used her power as an Interpol agent to run a terrorist organization. That bitch deserved every ounce of hatred Riley spewed at her.

But sometimes Riley was just angry at everything, and she sat somewhere quiet and stewed so she didn't take it out on someone who didn't deserve it. Riley still owed Desi an apology after nearly ripping her friend’s head off when she tried to check up on Riley a few days ago.

Mac finally looked up, his expression raw and broken. It pushed Riley over the edge. Her keys fell out of her hand, and Riley’s breathing stuttered. The all too familiar lump in her throat returned, rendering her unable to speak, and the tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over, twin hot streams running down her cheeks.

Mac left the flag on the kitchen counter and strode to her, not stopping until his arms wrapped tightly around her. “I didn’t know what to do when I saw it either,” he murmured, clutching her to his chest like their lives depended on it.

Riley sobbed. She’d cried so much in the last week she didn’t think her body could produce any more tears, but they just kept coming. She weakly returned Mac's hug.

"The hole in my heart just keeps bleeding," Riley gasped. "And I don't know how to make it stop."

"I don't know either," Mac said in a rare moment of honesty. He'd been keeping up a strong front for her sake, she knew. Because if they both let go, there wouldn't be anything stopping them from drinking themselves into oblivion and hurling spite at the world.

A world that didn't deserve Jack Dalton.

Riley didn't let herself think about the fact that Jack died for nothing. Well, not completely nothing, since his death led them to the clues he'd left behind just in case. Jack's death led to Kovac being put away for good. But that would never change the fact that Jack died alone, in a trap.

Mac grunted softly. The sound pulled Riley out of her head enough to realize she'd dug her nails into Mac's back, hard enough to leave marks.

"Sorry," she whispered, barely loud enough to hear.

Mac whispered back. "It's alright, Riles."

Riles. That was Jack's nickname for her, long before it was anyone else's. Mac had picked it up after a year or so, and even Desi sometimes called her that, but above all, it belonged to Jack.

Her knees started to tremble, and Riley let Mac hold her up. Besides her mom, Mac was the only one she felt safe breaking down around. She didn't know why. She was just as close to Bozer as she was to Mac. Maybe it was because talking to Bozer still felt like sympathy and not just someone to be sad with.

"How's your mom?" Mac asked softly.

A new wave of tears, silent ones this time, rolled down Riley's cheeks. She’d spent the previous night with her mom. Riley finally told her about Jack, after receiving clearance to tell her mom everything.

It was the hardest thing she'd ever done.

"We cried a lot." Riley sniffed. "I didn't know telling her would be so hard."

She knew it would suck, but finding the courage to squeak out "Jack's dead" was almost more than she could manage.

"I could've gone with you," Mac offered.

Riley appreciated the gesture. "Thanks, but I needed to do it on my own." She wasn’t even sure which way was up anymore, but she was sure of this.

They stood there for a little while longer before Mac asked, “Are you hungry?”

“No.” Riley’s stomach turned inside out at the thought of food.

Mac’s hands got brave, roaming her body and feeling how thin she was after a week of barely eating. She could hardly manage one meal a day, much less three. Riley tensed at the intimacy of the gesture. His tone was firm. “We’re having tacos. You have to eat at least one.”

“Okay.” She knew it was pointless to argue. Mac would force-feed her if he had to.

Without thinking, she asked, "Can I sleep here tonight?" Realizing what she said, Riley quickly backtracked. "Or if you and Desi want your space I understand, and—"

Mac cut her off. "No. You can always stay here, for as long as you want." After a moment, he added, voice strained, "I want you to stay."

“Thank you,” she said weakly. Riley felt Mac’s strong façade starting to crack. She knew he couldn’t keep it up much longer, that he couldn’t hold her up forever.

Maybe then they could just lean on each other.

Jack may have left Riley and Mac behind, but at least he didn’t leave them alone. They had each other, and while they would never be able to fill the Jack-shaped hole in their lives, maybe each other would be enough to keep going.

Because as it turns out, none of them were invincible, and Riley had to figure out how to staunch the wound before she bled out on the floor.

#beth writes #macgyver #riley davis #macriley #drabble #I'M SORRY #macgyver fanfiction

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Bodyguard - Six

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky X Politician!Reader

Summary: As a young and controversial politician, you face some opposition. After a death threat is made and your security is at risk, you agree to get a bodyguard. You don’t expect him to be the most irritating and attractive man on the planet. With a history so deep and twisted you never thought you’d figure it out, a terrible corporation is determined to take you out of the political picture; using any means necessary. The only question is, how far is James willing to go to ensure your safety?

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Injuries, Violence, Language.

Word Count: 1.5K

A/n: Um hi it’s only been like a year or something haha oops. We’re gonna have one more instalment to this series!

INSPIRED BY THE NETFLIX ORIGINAL: BODYGUARD

SERIES MASTERLIST

~*~

You watch as Bucky, Natasha, and Steve argue over what’s best for you to do. Bucky is adamant that you stay in the safe house, away from those trying to kill you, while Natasha argues that putting you in someplace where they can get you could lead them to get answers about who wants you and why they want you dead. Steve, the poor man, is trying to play mediator between the two hotheads.

“What are they expecting me to do?” You ask suddenly, getting the attention of the three.

Bucky looks at you with pursed lips.

“You tried to come clean on national television and they thwarted that. I assume that they think the message got across.” You nod slowly, thinking that over.

“So why don’t I do something that they wouldn’t expect? If they think I’ll lay low, I should do the opposite, right?”

An idea starts to take shape in your mind.

“I could make a public announcement from the safe house. Take a video and send it to every news station in the country to get my message across. Then, HYDRA will be exposed and I’ll still be safe here.” Natasha cocks her head to the side, eyebrows raised as she ponders it.

“Nat, no,” Bucky says instantly. She holds up a hand to silence him.

“We could have Stark secure the network. Make sure that no one can trace the video back here. She’d be safe and HYDRA would be exposed. It works.” You nod, happy that she’s agreed with you. Bucky sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“There’s no way I’m arguing with you two, is there?” You both shake your heads and he almost cracks a smile. Almost.

“Hello, all. I am coming to you from an undisclosed location to give you an update on the threat to America. It was speculated that the terrorists were from outside of the country, but I can confidently confirm that they are American citizens. They work for a terrorist organization known as HYDRA, and they’ve been operating since the 1930′s. Their goal, as of right now, is to strike fear in the hearts of the citizens and wage a war on the Middle East. We must not give in to them. I have been attacked many times, but I will not give in to fear. HYDRA will be stopped and they will be stopped soon. Do not engage if you see them. This is a message to the citizens of America and the terrorists of HYDRA. HYDRA will be stopped. And justice will be served.”

You rewatch the video one last time before sending it off, a weight lifting off of your shoulders while one settles on Bucky’s.

“It’ll be fine, James,” you whisper, taking his hand in yours. He sighs and shakes his head. “I have a bad feeling about this.” You wave off his concerns and stand up, stretching your legs and pulling him to his feet.

“Well... I think I know how to get your mind off of it.” He’s following you up the stairs to the master bedroom and you can’t help but giggle, all the while Tony Stark and Natasha are taking all preventative measures they can online, not wanting the video to be tracked back to the safe house.

Steve has called back up, to get extra security around the house, and sits in his car outside, watching the surroundings for anything suspicious.

~*~

You climb out of bed, grinning at Bucky’s sleeping figure. Rather than disturb him, you get yourself cleaned and dressed then head downstairs to make yourself some tea. The house, surprisingly, is empty, except for a note on the kitchen table written in Natasha’s neat handwriting.

‘Following up on a lead. Be back soon. Call if anything happens.’ You purse your lips and take a big breath in, hoping that this will all be over soon so that you can come out of hiding.

As you’re pouring the boiled water into your mug, a hand is coming up and covering your mouth. You go to drop the kettle, hoping the loud noise wakes Bucky, but a second set of hands grabs it and places it back on the counter.

You’re silently dragged from the house, tears in your eyes as fear spreads through your veins like wildfire.

Then you’re being shoved roughly into the backseat of a car, hands bound behind your back and a gag in your mouth.

You kick against the windows, hoping to break them and give yourself some way to escape, but one of your captors jumps to the back with you while the other takes off speeding down the road and away from safety.

The drive is long, with too many turns to count, and you feel yourself losing hope.

They finally pull up to a large house in the middle of an upper-class neighbourhood, the car sliding into the garage.

The gag is pulled from your mouth and then you’re being wrestled inside the house.

If you weren’t so focused on fighting the men holding you, you’d take time to notice how beautiful the house is.

Then you’re being pushed to sit down in a chair in the kitchen. You glare at the people holding you captive, angry and slightly terrified.

“You, my dear, are far smarter than you seem. Smarter than your father was.” You recognize that voice, and the fact that you do sends a shiver down your spine.

“President Pierce,” you state, not turning as the man walks into the room. He chuckles and sits down across from you, a smile on his face.

“You know, I thought you were dead for a while. Until that video came out. Stark is fast, but not fast enough. We tracked it down and found you. And look at that, you’re hardly surprised to see me here, are you?” You shake your head. You never had a good feeling about the president.

“Well, I’m not going to argue with you and tell you that I’m a good guy. Women like you can never see the bigger picture.” You roll your eyes at him,

“What bigger picture?! You’re trying to start a war with innocent people!” He chuckles and pats your cheek. “Oil. Oil is money. And money is power. Once we control the Middle East, we can start taking on Africa. And then Asia. Then Europe. Until the whole world belongs to us.” You shake your head, disgusted by his greed.

“You won’t get away with this. Everyone knows it’s HYDRA behind the terrorist attacks.” He clicks his tongue.

“Yes, that’s true. But all I need to do is make a convincing video of you confessing to lying, admit that you’re working for the bad guys, and then kill you. You’re a pawn in a bigger game than you know. And you’ve played your part beautifully. I’ll admit, you’re stronger than I thought, but even you can break.”

You open your mouth to speak when suddenly your phone starts ringing.

One of Pierce’s men hands the phone to him and he shrugs. “It would be suspicious if you left without your phone.” A gun is pressed to your temple and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“You’ll tell them that everything is fine and you just went out to grab a few things from the store,” Pierce instructs, accenting the call and pressing the phone to your ear.

“(Y/n)? Where the hell are you?!” Bucky’s frantic voice asks. You let out a shaky breath before answering.

“I’m fine. I just went to grab a few things from the store. You can chillax. And make sure you tell Sam to chillax too, okay? I know he specifically will worry so make sure you tell him to chillax.” He hesitates for a moment, suspicious and worried.

“I’ll tell him.” You feel your eyes start to sting.

“I’ll be back soon. I love you, James.” This is what really tips him off to something being wrong.

“I love you too.” He doesn’t hang up right away, he waits and listens to see if there’s anything to give away where you are.

One of the goons takes your phone from Pierce as he begins talking, hanging up after he’s spoken a few words.

“Steve!” Bucky shouts, dropping his phone and looking for the blond. Steve, Nat, and Sam hurry into the room, each with matching looks of concern on their faces.

“She’s with Pierce,” He says. The other agents look confused before Bucky turns to Sam.

“She kept telling me to tell you to ‘chillax’. I don’t know what that means but she said it more than once.” Sam’s eyes widen. “I told her that if she’s ever in trouble to say ‘chillax’. As a code word.” Bucky jumps to his feet.

“Fuck! I knew it! I fucking knew Pierce was with them. He’s gotta be.”

“Wait... you think that the President...” Natasha trails off and Bucky nods.

“Pierce is working with HYDRA.”

#Bucky x reader bodyguard au #bodyguard #bodyguard au #bodyguard bucky #bodyguard!bucky x reader #bodyguard bucky x politician reader #politician au #bodyguard!bucky x Politician!reader #bucky x reader au #Bucky Barnes x reader au #bucky x reader

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