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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

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Of Kings and Beasts - Nine

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

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

Word Count: 2.9K

A/n: Another chapter is finished!! I’ve got an idea but it’s SO DANGEROUS AND Y’ALL MIGHT HATE ME IF I DO IT BUT ITS SO TEMPTING AND I THINK I’M GONNA DO IT ahem anyway I hope you guys enjoy this!

A/n 2: I’m posting this before work so I’ll reply to asks and comments when I get home tonight! Also, I’ve got the next part of Gangsta written up if y’all want that.... hehe

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“How have you been adjusting to this new home?” Thor asks one morning, a smile on his face. You grin back at him, the weight of Acadia lifted off your shoulders as you take a sip of your tea.

“Quite well. Although Loki has been an interesting addition.” The raven-haired man looks up from his book momentarily and gives you a look, to which you only smile.

From the moment you entered the cottage you knew it would be good for you to stay here.

“Well, we are at your disposal. I will have to go back to Asgard within the weeks to come, but Loki and the Valkyrie shall remain here should you need or want them.” You nod gratefully, looking out the window and pursing your lips as you watch the women spar outside.

“What? What is it?” Thor asks, following your gaze.

“I want to learn to defend myself. To wield a sword and fight off an attacker.” Loki scoffs from where he sits, his nose still buried deep in his book.

“For what reason should a queen wish to learn to fight? You will always have men for that.” Your defence is up in an instant, and you clench your jaw before composing yourself enough to reply.

“I do think that considering both my upbringing and the way I have been treated in my new kingdom, I have every right to want to learn to defend myself. I have many reasons to want to defend myself, none of which concern you, however, if you had the slightest idea of all that I have endured in my short time as queen you would not question me wanting to learn to defend myself. I have been shunned from my palace because my husbands fear someone will kill me. My own husbands have brought me far more pain than I would like to admit. I have every right to wish to learn how to defend myself and I will not hear a word from you about the subject!”

His brows raise to nearly his hairline and he looks between you and his brother before burying his nose back in his book, which elicits a chuckle from the blond king.

“If the situation is so severe that I need be sent away for my own safety, I need to learn to defend myself.”

Thor nods, a strong hand patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“I knew there was a fire in you. I could see it in those eyes when you spoke of running from the Kings. I just needed to find it.” He rises to his feet and straightens his clothing. “Loki does have a special talent for pulling the fire from even the most docile creatures. But I will go speak with the valkyrie. They will be delighted to have a student to train.”

He leaves the cottage to interrupt the sparring outside, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the first piece of control that you will have over your life.

~*~

“If that will be all, You are dismissed,” King Steven says, his voice low and exhausted. The royal adviser bows then heads to the door, hesitating for a moment.

“Forgive me, Your Majesties, but I cannot help but notice the absence of the Queen. Where has she gone?” It’s not the first time they’ve gotten the question in the week that you've been gone, therefore they already have their excuse rehearsed and perfected.

“We simply have no use for her. If she cannot even bear our children then what use is she to us?” Comes Steve’s practiced response.

“We were instructed to find a queen who could produce strong heirs. Our wife cannot. So she is no longer of use to us,” James adds, his voice dripping in boredom as he looks over a document on his desk.

The royal advisor nods then excuses himself, bustling to his own office with newfound haste and purpose.

“It’s been a week and we are no closer to finding who it is than we were when she was here,” Steve murmurs after a long moment of silence, his shoulders heavy with the weight of their decision.

“I’m beginning to question whether it was a good decision to send her along with Thor. Especially after he threatened to make her a queen of his own. What if she were to agree?” James stands up and walks over to his husband, taking his shaking hands in his own and sighing.

“I would not blame her if she were to agree. We have treated her like a prisoner. I have... brutalized her and beaten her and I will never be able to repent. If she were to want him I would in no way blame her. He has provided her with a safe haven. She can confide in him and trust him in a way that she may not be able to again with us.” Steve sniffles and squeezes his eyes shut.

“We need to find who it is that has caused this and we need to make them pay.” James nods, smoothing his thumbs over the back of his husband’s hands.

“We will. But until we do, we must remain strong. The Doctor is recovering and when he is fully recovered we will ask him who it was that attacked him. We will find who is behind this, but we must be patient.”

~*~

“Again!” You raise your sword just in time to block a blow from one of the Valkyrie, grinding your teeth together as you push her back a step then swipe your own sword at her throat.

She hops backward, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You are learning, Your Majesty. But you still hold back. Why? You cannot be afraid to hurt us,” The Captain says, walking forward and looking at you closely.

“You must show no mercy. Not when you must choose between your own life and the life of someone who means to do you harm. You will fight and you will fight to the death.”

Your entire body is burning with the exertion but you hold your ground, raising your sword and ready to go again.

“That’s what I like to see! Now, we go again!” Brunnhild exclaims, a grin on her face as she takes her fighting stance.

It’s just over two weeks since you began your training and everyone is surprised at how quickly you’re picking up on what’s being taught, but none more than you.

You’re just stepping out of the bath, muscles aching with a new type of strength that the Valkyrie have been beating into you, when your eyes catch a glimpse of movement at the window to your bedroom. A figure clad in all black is moving swiftly away from the cottage and disappearing into the darkness of woods, the setting sun aiding in the camouflage of the person.

Thinking that it’s none other than Loki going to wreak havoc on some poor defenceless wanderers, you don’t question it. Instead, you get dressed into a soft Asgardian gown and start preparing yourself for bed.

You’re just about ready to settle down with a book when a flash of white catches your eye from the window. You hesitantly investigate, heart hammering in your chest as you see a letter tucked securely in the window.

You open it and snatch the envelope before it can be taken by the wind, then shut the window again.

The seal on the envelope is that of Acadia, and your heart is in your throat as you realize that this could very well be a letter from the Kings. You’ve no idea what it may say, and cannot decide if you are more nervous or excited as you open it.

The script is not one you recognize, but your eyes greedily devour every word, the smile fading from your face at what lies on the page in your hand.

Thor finds you sometime later seated on the floor, the letter gripped tightly in your hands and your eyes focused on a point on the wall.

“(Y/n?” He asks softly, knocking against the doorframe to try and get your attention. You make no indication that you’ve heard him.

He enters the room, brows furrowed as he sees what you’re holding. “What is that? What does it say? Is it from the Kings?”

It takes a very long moment, but eventually, you find the strength to speak. But even then your voice is a weak rasp.

“Did you know the truth? Did you hide it from me as well?” Thor is beyond confused as he approaches you, taking the page from you and reading through the contents quickly.

‘Your Majesty,

Do not ask who I am nor how I know where you are, just know that you need be more careful who it is you call your lovers. They have sent you away, not for your own protection but because you failed at the task they wanted you for. They have sent you away because you failed to bear their children, this I promise I have heard with my own ears. I know not what they have told you but it is what I have witnessed. They have said this directly and I have heard it with my very own ears. You would do well to stay away from them, for they are dangerous. But I am certain that you and your late child are more than aware of that.

Consider this a warning, your majesty, for I know you are unsafe. You must take care and be far more careful of who you allow in your court.’

“Loki!” The prince is in the room within the same moment, his eyes full of confusion.

“Have the Valkyrie secure the area and find me the man who sent this! Travel to Acadia and alert the Kings. The Queen is no longer safe here.”

You’re confused. If the kings have directly told someone this, why then is Thor responding in such a way?

Loki is on horseback heading towards Acadia only moments later, and Thor is leaving the room as soon as the Valkyrie enter.

Brunnhild crouches next to you, a frown on her face as she glances at the note on the floor, its words echoing in your ears.

“Do not allow this to scare you, Your majesty. Do not give them the satisfaction of that.” You scoff and shake your head at her, “it is far easier said than done. All my life I have been punished for ever speaking, much less standing my ground. I have perfected the art of cowering, for men wish to do nothing but hurt and maim all so they can gain power.”

She sits down and shakes her head, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.

“You forget that we are all brought into this world through blood and through pain, your Majesty. We are the daughters of savage women. We are their savage daughters and we will act like it. We will bite and scream and we will take up space. We will not conform to their ideas of what women should be.” Her words are whispered into the still air of the room as if she were hiding them from any listening ears.

“Do not lower your voice for any man. Do not cower beneath them. You are a powerful being. One that can create life and you can also take it away, never forget that.” She pulls a dagger off of her belt and hands it to you, curling your fingers around the hilt before she continues speaking.

“You have the blood of goddesses and witches flowing through your veins. You hold a power that men could never understand. With every step we take, every time we refuse to cower... we honour our mothers, our grandmothers, and the ones before them. The ones who stood and fought and were torn to pieces. We will not be silenced. You will not be silenced. You are more powerful than that. You must remember your strength and your power. Do not let the men convince you that you are anything less than what you are.”

Your eyes sting and your throat gets tight, but she only hugs your shoulders and continues speaking.

“Your power is what scares them. Why else would they try to assert their dominance in such a way? But you will not fall. You will not allow them to treat you like that because you are the daughter of a savage. You are yourself a savage woman and you will act like it. Royal title be damned.”

You sniffle once, twice, three times, then nod, wiping your eyes just as Thor re-enters the room.

The Valkyrie take their leave and the King sighs, crouching down next to you and gently stroking your cheek.

“I’m so very sorry, Petal. You are no longer safe here. If someone was able to bring you this letter then I fear you are in far more danger than we had thought. The conspiracy against the Kings runs far deeper than any of us could have anticipated, and if we are to keep you safe then we must act quickly.” He pulls you to your feet and bustles around quickly, covering your shoulders in a thick cloak and packing a bag of your belongings.

“Wait, where do you mean to take me? If I am not safe anywhere?”

He tosses your bag over his shoulder and grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“The only place you will truly be safe.” You’re still quite confused.

“We make for Asgard.”

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thejustmaiden · 4 years

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Heyo, fellow Inuyasha fans! Happy Friday! This particular blog will serve as a collection of random thoughts I’ve been mulling over lately. Hope you’ll consider giving it a read. By the way, it’ll specifically pertain to the Sessrin ship. If that’s not something that is of interest to you, then no need to read any further. Whatever happens, I wanted to get this out before the sequel. Alrighty, let’s go!

I’m not sure many of us realize just how much fiction sparks public dialogue and shapes culture. There have been countless studies and research done to prove it, therefore this really isn’t up for debate. What the real question here should be is have we taken the time to fully contemplate and assess just how much fictional experiences are able to change or influence our perspective on real, everyday life? The visual arts are just one of many evolutionary adaptations that serve to give us more insight into one another’s mind. If our outlook on fiction contrasts with said insight, then perhaps some re-evaluating is in order.

Powerful works of literature such as 1984 and the beloved Harry Potter series are just two examples. George Orwell’s book contributed strongly to how readers viewed government and politics during that time, and to this day it’s a book that resonates with many. As much as Harry Potter is cherished all across the world, there are religious and academic institutions that condemn it or have even gone so far as to ban it. I may not agree with the extreme measures taken, but it’s fascinating nonetheless to witness the extent to which fiction can move and mobilize people for a cause.

The takeaway is that indicating fiction doesn’t have the power to create change in our everyday lives is misleading to say the least. So how exactly then can fictional stories that are, after all, completely made up affect society in such profound ways? It all lies in the power of the psychology of fiction. According to cognitive psychologist and novelist, Keith Oatley, who’s been researching the psychological effects of fiction for over a decade, he states that engaging with stories about other people can improve empathy and theory of mind. When we identify with these characters’ struggles, we begin to share their frustration for societal problems that plague them. These types of stories tap into our emotions more so than- believe it or not- nonfiction, and thus their effects inspire us and even have the ability to alter our worldviews.

I’ll be returning to that specific topic a bit later, but moving on for now!

It’s safe to say that I speak on behalf of the majority of antis. That being said, I first want to add that we are aware that sessrin shippers claim to agree that there was nothing inherently romantic that took place between Rin and Sesshomaru during their travels together. The thing is we have trouble believing you guys when you time and time again provide contradictory statements to defend your stance.

Voicing things like, “all signs point to Rin” and “it’s been foreshadowed” sends the exact opposite message of what you supposedly stand for and, if anything, confirms that you’ve had romance on your mind long before it would’ve been acceptable to come out with openly. You can’t just go along with what we say when it’s convenient to your argument and then back it up later with “who else but Rin.” How can the relationship you’re imagining be so obvious if they didn’t hint at it for the whole duration of the original series like we agreed upon? Elaborate on how we could’ve possibly come to such wildly different conclusions when we started AND left off with the same views for and throughout the series.

On top of that, making the excuse that we don’t speak for adult!Rin and that she has the right to make her own decisions once she’s old enough is a weak defense. Firstly, because we haven’t even met her. Secondly, because it’s unfair of you to assert that you know what’s best for Rin and then say we’re not allowed to just because it doesn’t align with your beliefs. I get that you feel protective over her character, but do recall that this adult version of her none of us have actually met yet. We have no idea what kind of woman she’s become, what her dreams or aspirations may be, and whether she’s married or even wants to be. I’m not against the idea of her falling in love, I just don’t think it’ll be with Sesshomaru. I guess I’m also a fan of the idea of her following in Kaede’s footsteps, because if anyone can grow up to be an independent, trusted, and wise leader of the community like her it’s Rin.

To make matters worse, way too many of you continue to celebrate the drama cd and profess that it was sweet that Sesshomaru basically promised he’d wait for Rin all while somehow ignoring the glaring grooming implications. Why do you only see what you want to see and fail to acknowledge that actual child grooming scenarios do in fact play out like this in real life? A high percentage of people who have been victims of grooming can attest to this. If Sessrin does go canon, all the sequel succeeded in doing to avoid the direct correlation with grooming was skip over the more questionable and dodgy portions of it. Take out the time jump, however, and you no longer have a loophole to cover up the scary unmistakable truth, which is that Sessrin and grooming are essentially one in the same.

No one case is identical to another so please don’t come to me with your “but how is it grooming if Sesshomaru didn’t manipulate Rin” refutes. Nobody knows what the hell went on during those years between The Final Act and this upcoming sequel. Based on everything exhibited so far- that is if we decide to recognize the drama cd like so many of you choose to do- Sessrin’s dynamic is eerily reminiscent of real life child grooming. Why else do you think a lot of us fans have a huge problem with it? It’s triggering for a reason.

Let’s be honest, Sesshomaru’s supposed love confession could’ve just been the first of many gestures like it. Who really knows, right? According to you shippers, a major shift in their relationship took place sometime during this critical period none of us got to watch unfold. I’m sure you all have explored the various ways this would’ve gone down in fan fiction and through other creative means of expression. Not to spoil the fun, but all I can’t help but wonder about is just how many of those supposed “cute moments” would’ve been as creepy and cringey as that proposal. Hundreds of thousands (possibly millions?!) of fans would undoubtedly agree with me, too. It seems to me this ain’t due to a mere difference of opinion. Taste is one thing, ethics a whole other.

By the way, in case you didn’t know, groomers don’t necessarily need to plan out every single move in order for their behavior to constitute as grooming. What we should be paying attention to instead is the fact that Sesshomaru made a conscious decision to act on his own selfish desire for a young girl who couldn’t have possibly known in that moment the magnitude of what he was asking of her. Why is it that a vulnerable Rin is put in a position that forces her to be the one responsible for making such a big, life-changing decision for the both of them? Yes, Sesshomaru gave her the choice and, yes, she doesn’t have to make it till later, but why on Earth is he coming to her with this well before a child her age is ready and mature enough to handle it? Even if his intentions are good (broadly speaking of course), his what you shippers probably call “innocent acts” are incidentally coercing Rin into reciprocating his feelings. Whether he planned for that or not, he’s at fault. Period.

That’s one way the power imbalance works. A child wants nothing more than to please the adult they look up to and adore, because they’re impressionable like that. Maybe Rin processes this like she’ll want whatever he wants, so that’s what she trains herself to believe- either right then and there or over time. Plus, if you really think about it, why wouldn’t she trust him if in her eyes he’s been nothing but good to her and that’s all she’s ever really known? (Psst! Charm is integral to the manipulative nature of grooming so it’s deceiving AKA manipulation can come off as praise or flattery.) Bottom line is that Rin is too young to have to think about this kind of deep stuff at all, and Sesshomaru shouldn’t have taken advantage of the power he had/has over her to influence a decision she was by no means prepared to hear about much less decide on. Your headcanons seem to imply that she’ll eventually have to choose though, and Idk about you but I rather not push my own fantasy agenda onto a underage girl regardless of how much I want it. Idc if she’s fictional, it wouldn’t feel right so why would I want to see that? My principals couldn’t ever allow for it.

Even if it wasn’t an official proposal, per se, it’s still disturbing to me that so many of you find joy in the thought of a grown adult male essentially waiting for a young girl HE KNEW to become old enough before pursuing her. I know this drama cd ain’t technically canon, y'all, but since this is literally the only source we have that may foreshadow a potential Sessrin to come, and it’s referenced a lot, I figured it still should be called out for exactly what it is- Grooming: 101!!!!

Just as I demonstrated above, fiction has the ability to make even the most inappropriate and uncomfortable situations be viewed in a favorable light when you put the right spin on it. *cough* Lolicon culture, need I say more? *cough* Despite what you may believe, the strategies fiction utilizes to explain themes/concepts can genuinely lead to how we perceive them, and ultimately to how we come to make sense of a similar event presented to us in real life. Especially if we have no prior experience with any of it and have nothing to compare something to, these perceptions can be dangerous yet still persuasive to certain fans- young ones in particular. The more narrative consistency across stories and different mediums, the more likely they’ll influence social beliefs. Minors don’t possess the same capacity as adults to think critically about the content they consume, and if we aren’t more careful about what we put out there then all of us will continue to face serious repercussions.

This is precisely why it’s crucial we persist in our fight against the rabid phenomenon of glorifying young girls in every sexual context imaginable. Just look at what something as seemingly harmless as fiction has the power to do. The scope of fiction is broad and far-reaching, and it’s about time we stop denying that fact and actually do something about it if we have the means to.

The truth of the matter is that we’re in desperate need of proper education and training programs on this issue in our communities. Families need to ensure their children have access to the necessary resources, but it isn’t just on them. ALL of us gotta do our part and ALL of us should be up for the task. It takes a village, right? If we do not properly discuss and address child sexual abuse (CSA) with our children and in public forums, including the internet, then we’re ultimately accepting incidents of CSA should they arise. Consequently, that also translates to indirectly accepting that the predators among us stay untreated and/or unpunished. That’s how the generational and societal aspect of the abuse can continue, and we must do everything in our power to secure our children’s future. Yes, even when it comes to fiction.

If you still somehow don’t think the Sessrin pairing has anything to do with grooming, allow me to break this down for you one more time:

1. If some of your fellow sessrin shippers say that a relationship like this in real life is harmful, then that should be pretty telling in and of itself.

2. Piggybacking off #1: if your only defense to that is “well it’s just fiction,” then you should ask yourself why you can’t ever come up with better reasons. Same goes for history and culture, so please stop using those to justify this relationship. None of the above can or should be applied since it’s already been established that fiction pervades our lives and vice versa.

3. If fellow shippers who are victims of grooming say they are drawn to Sessrin because it allows them in a way to “take back control” from their abuser so that they can better cope with past traumas, then they’re inadvertently admitting that Sessrin does possess qualities associated with the past child sexual abuse they underwent. AKA Sessrin is relatable for its abusive dynamic.

I have to ask by the way, but why do you get so offended when we don’t support your ship anyway? Is it because we interpret it to be controversial and you don’t like your ship getting a bad rap? Is it because it would be insulting to admit that antis actually have a point in it being problematic and you rather double down instead? Or is it because you’re projecting yourself onto Rin and prefer to not go into detail about why that is? Maybe it’s too personal, or maybe it’s because deep down you’re ashamed. Of course that doesn’t mean you’re bad people, but suppressing these kind of negative emotions can’t be healthy for anyone. A little awareness and self-reflection on your part can benefit not just you but all of us in the long run. Cognitive dissonance can suck, but it’s also part of being human.

I recently came across a comment I’d like to share with you. Unfortunately, this is not the first time nor will it be the last I see the likes of it. Anyway, in it a fan stated how embarrassing it must be being an Anti in this fandom when an episode like “Forever with Lord Sesshomaru” exists. Guys, this shipper and all those who liked their post are showing their true colors. Perpetuating and/or anticipating these sexualized images of young girls is a grave issue in both our society and media alike. I think we can all agree on that, or at least I hope so. It’s remarks like these that prove we still got a long way to go in terms of progress, and if we ever hope to effectively reverse some of our backwards way of thinking. So serious question for ya in regard to this: Why is it too much to ask that grooming be portrayed for what it is? Grooming. To clarify, grooming is bad and needs to be painted in a bad light. It’s as simple as that. If only we could all acknowledge it for what it is, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.

Historical accuracy and cultural differences aside, it appears the crux of the matter between Sessrin shippers and Antis is our acceptance and/or denial of fiction’s influence on real life. If we can’t agree on this, then we’ll never agree on anything else. As mentioned earlier, there is more than enough evidence to support the idea that fiction impacts our lives in extraordinary ways. I, for one, believe in the transformative power of stories. I think they do more for us than many of us give them credit for and/or are inclined to admit.

This is partially why I believe that the majority of sessrin folk are missing the point most of the time. All they do is focus on insignificant and irrelevant information that accomplishes nothing but more gaslighting and strawmanning. Whether it be an intentional or unconscious decision, whatever we argue goes right over their head. All they do is throw around deflections and antagonizing remarks that serve no real purpose other than to make Antis out to be the unreasonable and irrational ones. Making connections between our own lives and our stories is a completely natural and normal occurrence. If those particular shippers insist on denying just how interconnected real life and fiction both are, what that tells me is they’re either out of touch with reality or deliberately choose to be.

Just to be clear, I am of the opinion that most if not all antis aren’t real life predators. If they say they aren’t, I honestly take their word for it. Speaking to Sessrin shipper directly: We know it’s not Sesshomaru you want to be but Rin. No, we’re not calling you pedophiles or groomers. None of us think you are using a fictional ship to attract underage fans to be the Rin in your life or anything of the sort. We are well aware that many of you are self-inserting yourself as Rin, so please don’t feel the need to tell us yourself because that would be stating the obvious.

I learned from a few of you since this sequel was announced that the Sessrin relationship isn’t just a ship but an opportunity for you to confront the person who used and abused you. So there’s two issues with this I’d like to raise. (Sorry if I’m repeating myself, but it’s urgent I stress this again!) This is what I have to say:

If fiction does not affect real life or have the ability to normalize anything as you claim to believe, then why does “fixing” what happened to you via your preferred choice of coping associated with these two characters in the first place? Why bring your past abuse into this at all if at the end of the day it’s “just fiction” and nothing more to you but a source of entertainment?

By confessing that you use Sessrin to cope with your past trauma, you therein reveal that Sessrin does in fact resemble an adult-child relationship with a grooming dynamic. So why then would you want other fans to be exposed to a pairing that brings to mind the very abuse you endured? We’re supposed to stop this toxic cycle- NOT find more ways to manifest and relive it, much less subject other fans to it.

You may think that Sessrin doesn’t fit the textbook definition of what child grooming is, but that’s not to say it doesn’t embody it or that it doesn’t at the very least have traces of it that stand out.

“Antis are miserable people who don’t know how to enjoy a good story. It’s just fiction, stop ruining it for other fans!”

Well, no, it’s not just fiction or just a story. Some of you evidently went and proved that yourself, and without my help, by revealing how you relate Sessrin to your own life and apply it to cope with past abuse. Past abuse or not, as far as I can tell we’re all equally invested in these characters. That speaks volumes and just goes to show that fiction touches our lives in long-lasting ways.

I have something I want to say concerning some of who believe that it’s inconsiderate of antis who have been victims of grooming or another form of child abuse to tell other victims who ship Sessrin how they should cope with their trauma. Now as much as I respect the various means victims discover to deal with their painful pasts, there’s always an appropriate time and a place for these things to occur. We must seek out better ways to safely cope with the abuse we lived through (if any) without running the risk of hurting and endangering others.

There are plenty of fans in other fandoms who don’t try to defend their ships going canon, because they’re able to recognize an unhealthy or toxic pairing when they see one and won’t try to justify it. A Sessrin romance simply does not belong on a show geared towards teens, and I really don’t need to go into detail about why we shouldn’t support it, at least canon-wise. Shipping Sessrin is your right, but if you don’t keep it to yourself and your corner of the fandom then you really shouldn’t be surprised by the opposition. All we ask is you respect that their specific dynamic falls under the category of child grooming (or very close) and should be treated as such in public. The world of fiction may be wider than the world we live in, but that doesn’t always mean “anything goes.” In the creative spaces our minds occupy we must still adhere to the same fundamental and moral guidelines we live by in life. There’s nothing wrong with exploring new terrains and experimenting with ideas, but we must also remember that our stories are all about communicating and connecting with people. So let’s please be more mindful of the sort of messages they’re sending.

Besides, this isn’t only about you and what makes you feel safe, it’s about all of us. I don’t know how much more I can stress that really. How can thoughts endanger our children, you ask? Well, it’s not like we’re suggesting that our thoughts can jump out of our tvs, materialize themselves, and place kids under mind control. The forces behind fiction are a lot more complex and nuanced than a “monkey see, monkey do” approach, so don’t waste any more time trying to describe that to us. You’re taking this argument in the wrong direction.

Take the “violent video games breed killers” theory. I’m afraid you’re misconstruing what we’re saying and then taking it quite too literally. Please stop twisting our words, because nobody on our side is saying that just because you play violent video games that you’ll become a violent person. The Sessrin equivalent of that would be if you ship them then you must be a pedophile or turning into one. *sigh* I know you guys are feeling attacked, but I’m afraid your defensive nature is keeping you from thinking straight. Clearly, there are always exceptions (I’d recommend reading up on the Slender Man case), but Antis aren’t saying you’re one of them.

You see, it’s not so much about the content as it is the notion of the content. Kids and teens who are playing these video games have been informed that killing is wrong, because they grew up learning that early on like the rest of us. No sane person would advocate for violence and nonsensical killing in real life. Since they fully understand the severity of the consequences of killing a person in real life, they are able make a clear distinction between the two. When it comes to killing there is hardly any ambiguity. Sadly, that is far from the truth when it comes to sexualizing girls. It should immediately be perceived as wrong leaving no room for interpretation, and yet here we are still putting up with these inaccurate and demeaning female representations.

Most children who have been groomed don’t realize it till years down the road. If they aren’t ever taught the telltale signs to properly labeling grooming situations, how do you expect them to make sense of and relate to a fictional version? Let’s think of about it from a child’s perspective. Yes, this includes teens who rely pretty heavily on adult guidance and the content we put out there for them. Put yourself in their shoes for a moment and picture that you’ve never had child grooming explained to you (because that’s just the reality for so many unfortunately). Wouldn’t you say it’s possible for them to deduce that what they see on their screens is how they come to discern something in real life, especially if they have little to no experience with it? Perceived realism is plausible, y'all.

What it comes down to in the end is that the ideas and emotions we cultivate behind these stories leave an impression on others. Impressions are capable of influencing the way we see the world, which in turn affects us and beyond just our imagination. The way I look at it, stories contribute to how and why we normalize certain beliefs and trends. If fiction reflects real life like most of us tend to agree, then wouldn’t you say Sessrin is a (in)direct result of this world’s tendency to place young girls in overly sexual or romantic environments? Where do you think fiction draws its inspiration from? Sure, some of it originates from our imagination, but most of what drives us to create these stories is the real world and the people who live in it.

Fiction is meant to mirror reality, but it’s ridiculous to suggest that it’s only a one-way street. That fiction in no way, shape, or form influences our reality? Or that it only works the other way around? With all due respect, that’s simply not true. No productive discourse can be had if we choose to ignore the truth and don’t come together (at least halfway) to tackle the real issues at hand.

Okay, I think I’ll leave it off there! Thanks so much for reading. I expect this to be my last blog on any topic regarding Inuyasha in the near future. As much as I’ve looked forward to answering all of your asks and writing all the blogs I have over these past almost 5 months, I think it’s best if I spend some time away for now. With the sequel fast approaching, I’m doing what I always do: hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. I’ve met some amazing people along the way, that’s for sure. And who knows, maybe you’ll see me active in the tags sooner than we think. Until then, it’s been an absolute pleasure! Enjoy the sequel, all of you. 💜

#inuyasha #hanyo no yashahime #anti sessrin #it's been real y'all #catch ya on the flipside #(which I hope is in a promising sequel 🤞)

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isis-astarte-diana · 4 years

Text

But None, I Think, Do There Embrace (Part 2)

Part 1 ‖ Part 2

Summary: “The sight of Missy, conscious and walking, shakes loose a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding.” The conflict isn’t over when the gun goes off.

Warnings: None? Unresolved tension, mostly!

Word Count: 1815

NB: The promised continuation of “The Grave’s A Fine And Private Place”!

“Please, please work!”

The TARDIS hums softly in an inarticulate but clear expression of disagreement. The screen you clutch at with shaking hands remains a blurry mess of jumping pixels, the sound a warbled static hiss. You have no insight into what’s happening on the bridge.

Before you’d even glimpsed the creatures in the lifts, the ship had slammed her doors so hard that you were knocked backwards and off your feet, landing painfully on the metal floor. When you’d scrambled back up and tried to open them again, they wouldn’t budge. You still know precious little about how she functions, but it’s apparent that she’s determined to keep her human cargo safe from whatever wants to take them away.

“Siege mode,” Nardole points out unhelpfully, still fiddling with the console. “Hostile life forms detected on the bridge. No communications in or out. Your life signs are shielded, at least.”

White-knuckled on the handrail, you glance around desperately for inspiration. “We can’t just wait here!”

“I know,” Bill groans, head bowed and cradled in her hands. She sits on the stairs, catching her breath, steadying her racing heart. “I know, but what can we do? The TARDIS won’t let us outside and even if she would I don’t think we could help, I mean - we’re human! Whatever these things are, we can’t fight them.”

“I don’t think we need to.”

You scowl at Nardole. “What do you mean?”

“If they really are only interested in you two, then presumably, once they realise you’re no longer on the ship, they’ll just... wander off, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” Bill sounds quite convinced. “I mean, that blue guy was there for, what? Days?”

At the mention of the armed alien, you wince. You’ve been trying to distract yourself from the image of Missy’s limp body, slumped in the navigator’s chair. “Days,” you agree flatly.

“Exactly. Just try and keep calm, and I’m sure they’ll be back very-”

The doors tear open, flooding the room with the colony ship’s bright fluorescent lights.

“-soon.”

“Chair! Now!”

Any relief you might have felt is drained immediately by the sound of the Doctor’s voice, sharp and furious and full of pain. He has one arm around Missy, supporting her weight, half-dragging her alongside him as he staggers through the doors. Even from across the console you can see the smouldering burn mark on her coat. It’s bigger than your hand and still smoking.

The sight of her, astonishingly still conscious and walking, shakes loose a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding. You’ve grown to quite like Missy; her quick mind and deadpan black humour had endeared you to her when you visited the vault, and she’s proven herself a useful ally more than once with her effortless navigation of the TARDIS. In truth, despite Bill’s understandable trepidation, you’d been excited to see her at the helm of a new adventure.

Be careful what you wish for.

He drops her unceremoniously in the nearest seat and she lets out a heavy, pained noise at the impact. It makes you wince in sympathy. “Watch it! I’ve just been shot, or hadn’t you noticed?” She falls just short of her usual sardonic wit, too much strain seeping into the words.

“Shut up.” There’s no kindness in it. He works urgently at the buttons of her coat, pulling it open to expose her blouse and the wound left by the laser-barrelled weapon. He’s muttering angrily under his breath. “Missed all the vital organs.”

“Yes, well, if you want something done properly,” she mutters. Then, so sharply that you jump, “oi! What the hell are you doing, man?”

The Doctor has both hands poised over the injury on her side. At first you think it’s a trick of the light, an optical illusion triggered by stress and exhaustion, but as you watch they begin to glow in a vibrant, sickly shade of orange. Light pours from his palms and drenches her abdomen until the scene burns your eyes. It feels like staring into the sun.

“Be quiet,” he says calmly, ignoring her protests. “You’ll take weeks to heal on your own. You’re no use to anyone in this state. I’m just speeding things up a bit.”

You’ve heard of regeneration, of course, but this is the first time you’ve witnessed it. Despite the blinding intensity of it you can’t seem to look away. You move around the console as if in a trance, seeking out a better view. It is, at once, the most beautiful and most frightening thing you’ve ever seen, and you know with every fibre of your being that it is wrong, a violation of physical laws that you take for granted. What unfolds between the Time Lords in front of you spits in the face of everything you know about the universe.

Your normal Saturday has been resumed.

“Oh, for- get your hands off me!” She reaches down to knock him away but he’s already moving, stumbling slightly and bracing his hands on the back of the chair to steady himself. It’s clear that he’s expended some energy.

“Not quite good as new,” he observes. “You may actually have a scar.”

“I always fancied one of those.” She twists experimentally in her seat, testing the extent of her recovery. The only evidence of what should, by all rights, have been a mortal wound is a single low hiss through her teeth. “Consider it a touching memento of my full rehabilitation.”

“Rehabilitation?” He scoffs, cold and bitter. “Do you think this was a success?”

“I saved the humans, didn’t I? At tremendous personal cost, might I add.” She gestures to her side. “This is my favourite blouse, as well you know, and now it’s ruined.”

Provoked by her arch lack of repentance, he raises his voice. “You tried to kill a man! A frightened man, who asked us for help!”

“A stupid man, with a gun,” she bites back. Her hands are tight on the arms of the chair.

“I had the situation under control until you-”

“No you didn’t!”

You almost leap out of your skin when Bill interjects, her voice whip-thin and deafening even from across the room. All eyes turn to her. She’s a beacon of rage, practically vibrating, still fuelled by mortal peril and righteous fury.

“You had no idea what you were doing,” she seethes, pointing an accusatory finger at the Doctor. “You were just chatting away like an idiot, like you always do, thinking you’re so clever, and it nearly got us killed!”

He doesn’t take it well. “I was defusing the situation! It was a negotiation. I knew that-”

“Just shut up! You were negotiating for our lives!” At her side, one hand clenches into a tight fist. You can hear the angry tears making her voice waver as the adrenaline rush begins to fail. “D’you know what, Doctor? You made the wrong call. I never thought I’d say it but Missy was better than you today.”

She turns on her heels and heads deeper into the TARDIS, leaving her scathing words to hang heavily in the air. Shrinking in the face of conflict, you stand stock still, mouth agape, staring at the space she’s just vacated; Nardole makes an apologetic face and hurries after her. For a moment, you consider following, but think better of it. If it were you, you would want to be alone.

Face thunderous, the Doctor moves over to the console, manipulating switches and levers too forcefully until the ship dematerialises with a familiar mechanical screech.

“I think there was a compliment in there, somewhere.”

Missy stretches out in the chair, apparently unfazed, folding her arms behind her head. You don’t miss the slight flinch as the change in position tugs at her newly-healed wound. He ignores her, working his jaw in silent fury. “Oh, do try and cheer up, Doctor. I’m sorry that your softly-softly approach wasn’t up to scratch today but if you’re waiting for me to apologise for saving-”

“Don’t.” His voice is low and dangerous. “Don’t pretend to care about my friends.” His eyes dart over to you for a moment and you look away, removing your earpiece and inspecting it as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. “You’ve never cared about anyone but yourself. You haven’t changed at all.”

Not waiting for a response, he stalks out of the console room, brushing past you on the way. One hand skims lightly over your shoulder as if to make sure that you’re really there. You allow it. After the day’s events you’re drained, eager for peace and reconciliation that seems far out of reach. Even this gentle touch is almost enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Well?” Missy fixes you with her gaze and you blush, setting down the earpiece you’ve been fidgeting with. “Aren’t you going to run off, too?”

“I can if you want.” You’re aiming for jovial, but the words come out small and you wince. She raises an expectant eyebrow and doesn’t speak. “Actually, I wanted to say thank you. For saving us.”

“No need. It was all part of my devious plan.” She adjusts a stray lock of hair. Despite the flippancy in her voice it’s clear that his words have wounded her. You frown.

“He’s an idiot. Time Lord or not, I know a man with a bruised ego when I see one.” She chuckles wryly, looking down at the ruins of her blouse. Her hand uselessly attempts to smooth the fabric out. You move closer. Your pulse races when you reach out to touch her; she doesn’t pull away, watching from the corner of her eye as you rest your palm gently on her forearm.

Something changes in her posture. You think of the Doctor, of Bill’s hand crushing yours as you both waited to die, of how every living thing needs to be touched sometimes and your fingers wrap around her slender arm, the slightest pressure, your thumb sweeping back and forth over the thin cotton of her sleeve. She draws a sharp breath and turns to look at you again and you see a thin mist of tears glistening in her bright eyes. For the first time it occurs to you that she must feel as weary as you do.

“Thank you,” you say again, heavy with sincerity. “I’m pretty sure we would have died if you weren’t there. He’ll come around.”

Her face hardens almost imperceptibly and she clears her throat, blinking away the vulnerability with surprising ease. “The Doctor can do what he likes. I didn’t do it for him.”

“You didn’t?” Surprised, your fingers fall still. Her free hand leaves the armrest, coming to cover your own, and she looks up at you with something so akin to hope that your throat tightens.

“No,” she says softly. “I didn’t.”

#mine #missy x reader #request #the master x reader

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mytwilightimagines13 · 3 years

Text

Amnesia (Book Two)(Part Twelve)

The witnesses

Two things happened at once. Caius's eyes focused on Aro, and the tiny cruel smile came back. And Edward hissed, his hands balling up in fists so tight it looked like the bones in his knuckles would split through his diamond-hard skin. Carlisle glanced anxiously at Edward's face, and then his own face hardened. While Caius had blundered through useless accusations and injudicious attempts to trigger the fight, Aro must have been coming up with a more effective strategy. Aro ghosted across the snow to the far western end of the foe’s line, stopping about ten yards from Amun and Kebi. The nearby wolves bristled angrily but held their positions. “Ah, Amun, my southern neighbor!" Aro said warmly. "It has been so long since you've visited me." Amun was motionless with anxiety, Kebi a statue at his side. "Time means little; I never notice its passing," Amun said through unmoving lips. "So true," Aro agreed. "But maybe you had another reason to stay away?" Amun said nothing. "It can be terribly time-consuming to organize newcomers into a coven. I know that well! I'm grateful I have others to deal with the tedium.” Aro said and many took a quick glance at Maeryn before returning their attention back to Aro. Alec grabbed Maeryn’s hand and squeezed it lightly. Maeryn returned his gesture by stroking his hand with her thumb once. “I'm glad your new additions have fit in so well. I would have loved to have been introduced. I'm sure you were meaning to come to see me soon." Aro continued. "Of course," Amun said, his tone so emotionless that it was impossible to tell if there was any fear or sarcasm in his assent. "Oh well, we're all together now! Isn't it lovely?" Amun nodded, his face blank. "But the reason for your presence here is not as pleasant, unfortunately. Carlisle called on you to witness?" "Yes." "And what did you witness for him?" Amun spoke with the same cold lack of emotion. "I've observed the child in question. It was evident almost immediately that she was not an immortal child - " "Perhaps we should define our terminology," Aro interrupted, "now that there seem to be new classifications. By immortal child, you mean of course a human child who had been bitten and thus transformed into a vampire." "Yes, that's what I meant." "What else did you observe about the child?" "The same things that you surely saw in Edward's mind. That the child is his biologically. That she grows. That she learns." Maeryn still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Bella and Edward had intercourse when she was only human. Maeryn had to admit she was impressed by Edward’s ability to restrain himself. But she was also disgusted by it at the same time. She couldn’t ponder on the fact how he could bring his mate in so much danger. Not just by having intercourse, but also by impregnating her. Overall, she found it foolish. "Yes, yes," Aro said, a hint of impatience in his otherwise amiable tone. "But specifically in your few weeks here, what did you see?" Amun's brow furrowed. "That she grows... quickly." Aro smiled. "And do you believe that she should be allowed to live?" Hisses escaped multiple mouths on the foe’s side, once Aro’s words had been spoken out loud. Half the vampires in the foe’s line echoed in protest. The sound was a low sizzle of fury hanging in the air. Across the meadow, a few of the Volturi witnesses made the same noise, including Maeryn. Edward stepped back and wrapped a restraining hand around Bella’s wrist. Aro did not turn to the noise, but Amun glanced around uneasily. "I did not come to make judgments," he equivocated. Aro laughed lightly. "Just your opinion." Amun's chin lifted. "I see no danger in the child. She learns even more swiftly than she grows." Aro nodded, considering. After a moment, he turned away. "Aro?" Amun called. Aro whirled back. "Yes, friend?" "I gave my witness. I have no more business here. My mate and I would like to take our leave now." Aro smiled warmly. "Of course. I'm so glad we were able to chat for a bit. And I'm sure we'll see each other again soon." Amun's lips

were a tight line as he inclined his head once, acknowledging the barely concealed threat. He touched Kebi's arm, and then the two of them ran quickly to the southern edge of the meadow and disappeared into the trees. Maeryn was sure that they wouldn't stop running for a very long time. Smart move. Aro was gliding back along the length of our line to the east, his guards hovering tensely. He stopped when he was in front of Siobhan's massive form. "Hello, dear Siobhan. You are as lovely as ever." Siobhan inclined her head, waiting. "And you?" he asked. "Would you answer my questions the same way Amun has?" "I would," Siobhan said. "But I would perhaps add a little more. Renesmee understands the limitations. She's no danger to humans - she blends in better than we do. She poses no threat of exposure." "Can you think of none?" Aro asked soberly. Edward growled, a low ripping sound deep in his throat. Caius's cloudy crimson eyes brightened. Renata reached out protectively toward her master. And Garrett freed Kate to take a step forward, ignoring Kate's hand as she tried to caution him this time. Maeryn watched the scene closely, holding her hands out, ready to weaken Bella’s shield at any moment. Siobhan answered slowly, "I don't think I follow you." Aro drifted lightly back, casually, but toward the rest of his guard. Renata, Felix, and Demetri were closer than his shadow. "There is no broken law," Aro said in a placating voice, but everyone on both sides of the meadow could hear that a qualification was coming. Bella was becoming furious, and hurled the fury into her shield, thickening it, making sure everyone was protected. Maeryn smiled and used her gift slightly, giving Bella some resistance. Not enough to break the shield, but enough for her to lighten up Bella’s fury even further, and use more energy than originally asked for. "No broken law," Aro repeated. "However, does it follow then that there is no danger? No." He shook his head gently. "That is a separate issue." The only response was the tightening of already stretched nerves, and Maggie, at the fringes of their band of fighters, shaking her head with slow anger. Aro paced thoughtfully, looking as if he floated rather than touched the ground with his feet. Maeryn noticed every pass took him closer to the protection of his guard, and felt more relieved with every pass he took. "She is unique... utterly, impossibly unique. Such a waste it would be, to destroy something so lovely. Especially when we could learn so much .. ." He sighed, as if unwilling to go on. "But there is danger, danger that cannot simply be ignored." No one answered his assertion. It was dead silent as he continued in a monologue that sounded as if he spoke it for himself only. "How ironic it is that as the humans advance, as their faith in science grows and controls their world, the more free we are from discovery. Yet, as we become ever more uninhibited by their disbelief in the supernatural, they become strong enough in their technologies that, if they wished, they could actually pose a threat to us, even destroy some of us.” Aro said, his face looking troubled. "For thousands and thousands of years, our secrecy has been more a matter of convenience, of ease, than of actual safety. This last raw, angry century has given birth to weapons of such power that they endanger even immortals. Now our status as mere myth in truth protects us from these weak creatures we hunt. This amazing child" - he lifted his hand palm down as if to rest it on Renesmee, though he was forty yards from her now, almost within the Volturi formation again. "if we could but know her potential - know with absolute certainty that she could always remain shrouded within the obscurity that protects us. But we know nothing of what she will become! Her own parents are plagued by fears of her future. We cannot know what she will grow to be." He paused, looking first at the foe’s witnesses, and then, meaningfully, at his own. His voice gave a good imitation of sounding torn by his words. Still looking at his own

witnesses, he spoke again. "Only the known is safe. Only the known is tolerable. The unknown is... a vulnerability." Caius's smile widened viciously. "You're reaching, Aro," Carlisle said in a bleak voice. "Peace, friend." Aro smiled, his face as kind, his voice as gentle, as ever. "Let us not be hasty. Let us look at this from every side." "May I offer a side to be considered?" Garrett petitioned in a level tone, taking another step forward. "Nomad," Aro said, nodding in permission. Garrett's chin lifted. His eyes focused on the huddled mass at the end of the meadow, and he spoke directly to the Volturi witnesses. Maeryn raised an eyebrow, wondering what this nomad could possibly say to still put an end to this tension. A tension of a starting battle, waiting around the corner to blossom like a deadly flower. "I came here at Carlisle's request, as the others, to witness," he said. "That is certainly no longer necessary, with regard to the child. We all see what she is. I stayed to witness something else. You." He jabbed his finger toward the wary vampires. "Two of you I know - Makenna, Charles - and I can see that many of you others are also wanderers, roamers like myself. Answering to none. Think carefully on what I tell you now. 'These ancient ones did not come here for justice as they told you. We suspected as much, and now it has been proved. They came, misled, but with a valid excuse for their action. Witness now as they seek flimsy excuses to continue their true mission. Witness them struggle to find a justification for their true purpose - to destroy this family here." He gestured toward Carlisle and Tanya. "The Volturi come to erase what they perceive as the competition. Perhaps, like me, you look at this clan's golden eyes and marvel. They are difficult to understand, it's true. But the ancient ones look and see something besides their strange choice. They see power. I have witnessed the bonds within this family - I say family and not coven. These strange golden-eyed ones deny their very natures. But in return have they found something worth even more, perhaps, than mere gratification of desire? I've made a little study of them in my time here, and it seems to me that intrinsic to this intense family binding - that which makes them possible at all - is the peaceful character of this life of sacrifice. There is no aggression here like we all saw in the large southern clans that grew and diminished so quickly in their wild feuds. There is no thought for domination. And Aro knows this better than I do." Maeryn watched Aro's face as Garrett's words condemned him, waiting tensely for some response, a sign to end this nomad. Who does he think he is? Questioning her Master like that?! But Aro's face was only politely amused, as if waiting for a tantrum-throwing child to realize that no one was paying attention to his histrionics. "Carlisle assured us all, when he told us what was coming, that he did not call us here to fight. These witnesses" - Garrett pointed to Siobhan and Liam - "agreed to give evidence, to slow the Volturi advance with their presence so that Carlisle would get the chance to present his case. But some of us wondered" - his eyes flashed to Eleazars face - "if Carlisle having truth on his side would be enough to stop the so-called justice. Are the Volturi here to protect the safety of our secrecy, or to protect their own power? Did they come to destroy an illegal creation, or a way of life? Could they be satisfied when the danger turned out to be no more than a misunderstanding? Or would they push the issue without the excuse of justice? We have the answer to all these questions. We heard it in Aro's lying words - we have one with a gift of knowing such things for certain - and we see it now in Caius's eager smile. Their guard is just a mindless weapon, a tool in their masters' quest for domination.” Maeryn frowned at his words, but quickly shook them off. This Garrett is a liar, nothing more, nothing less. "So now there are more questions, questions that you must answer. Who rules you,

nomads? Do you answer to someone's will besides your own? Are you free to choose your path, or will the Volturi decide how you will live? I came to witness. I stay to fight. The Volturi care nothing for the death of the child. They seek the death of our free will." He turned, then, to face the ancients. "So come, I say! Let's hear no more lying rationalizations. Be honest in your intents as we will be honest in ours. We will defend our freedom. You will or will not attack it. Choose now, and let these witnesses see the true issue debated here." Once more he looked to the Volturi witnesses, his eyes probing each face. The power of his words was evident in their expressions. "You might consider joining us. If you think the Volturi will let you live to tell this tale, you are mistaken. We may all be destroyed" - he shrugged - "but then again, maybe not. Perhaps we are on more equal footing than they know. Perhaps the Volturi have finally met their match. I promise you this, though - if we fall, so do you." He ended his heated speech by stepping back to Kate's side and then sliding forward in a half-crouch, prepared for the onslaught.

#alec volturi #volturi #volturi imagine #vampire #twilight imagine #twilight

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mytwistedhome · 4 years

Text

Pomefiore and Ignihyde when they find out you have Anorexia

Trigger warning to anyone who suffers with an eating disorder!!

I decided to write these headcanons because I've been having a really tough two weeks, and thinking of the twst boys makes me happy...

I hope this can maybe bring comfort to someone else, or at least provide some bit of entertainment. My intention is not to cause harm or trigger anyone. That is the last thing I want.

Other dorms will be coming as well! I already started working on all of them, but I just haven’t finished them. They will most likely be posted the next time I have a bad day //

One more quick thing: I will be posting requests this week! I’ve already broken several promises that I made in regards to the time I’d post, and I feel horribly guilty. I’m sorry for the wait. I know I shouldn’t tell you to expect something on a certain day and then delay it for weeks. I should be honest about my efficiency, and I am sorry.

I'm also sorry for not responding to message (this applies to all my blogs...) I see them, but then forget about them, and then cower away because I feel like I'm already too late. I hope this little apology is enough to suffice... I'll apologize properly to every person when I find the courage. I know I shouldn't be doing this to people who've been kind to me just because I feel unwell. Please know that I am very sorry, and I'm trying to be more responsible and less careless to those around me.

💜

Vil Shoenheit

So that's why your skin is so dry and you have bags under your eyes

He scolds you at first. He believes that you’re starving to get a good figure, and he tries to inform you that doing so is unhealthy and that being malnourished actually makes a person quite ugly.

As if you haven’t already heard all this before

You try to tell him that you’re not doing this to look good. At least, not anymore. Sure, it started out as a way to lose weight, but it soon became an obsession much more meaningful than beauty or weight-loss.

He doesn’t understand. Why would you deliberately hurt yourself like that? Especially when you’re aware of all these negative outcomes?

Nevertheless, he is still very worried about you

He wouldn't normally concern himself with such a personal problem, but he would feel so guilty if he just stood back and watched you whither away

So, he does, indeed, go out of his way to try and help you

He finds a psychology book about eating disorders in the library, and he reads it in its entirety

He is... quite disturbed. He never imagined that you could be suffering so badly.

He's smart enough to realize that he, himself, can't do anything to make you better

He encourages you to seek professional help, and he even searches for phone numbers you can call and therapists/counselors close by of whom you can see

You are really touched by his efforts to find help, and you promise him that you will see one of the counselors he recommended

But... several weeks go by, and you haven't done anything

Vil grows furious. Don’t you want help!?

He takes your lack of seeking help rather personally... He went out of his way to provide with the things he felt that you really needed. Don’t you appreciate that? Don’t you care about yourself? What more do you want him to do?

You try to tell him that you don’t want him to do anything, that you’ll find help when you’re ready--

Vil isn’t buying that

What does “ready” mean, anyways? When you’re already in the grave?

He’s a bit harsh on you... He points out the patches of dry skin along your neck and chest, the way the hairs of your arms always stand on end from goosebumps, the metallic taste in your mouth...

Are you happy with those things? Do you really want to live this way?

You try and try to explain to him that it’s hard to get help and go back to eating normally

It spirals into an argument...

Vil is done with this. He did what he could and got you the resources you need to begin recovery. Once you decide to get help, he will be there for you. He will be there whenever you reach out for support, comfort, or care. But, until then, don’t talk to him about it. Don’t complain about your misery until you have sought proper help. It’s your fault at this point, isn’t it?

Rook Hunt

He had noticed that you were very quickly losing a lot of weight

He was concerned, but he never imagined that the problem could be something so serious

You're actually surprised with just how much he's concerned. You thought that if there was anyone to romanticize such a disease, it would be him

But he seems to know more than you thought about such disorders

He begs you to get professional help, and he is quite a bit more pushy and earnest than Vil is...

You try to explain to him that no doctor or therapist could ever help unless you were READY and WANTED to be helped

Well, he doesn't understand why you don't want help

He's pushing and pushing you... begging you to seek a professional

You get so frustrated that you turn and leave. He just doesn't understand!

And now Rook is even more distressed. How will he ever get through to you? How can he ever help you?

Now, every time he sees you, he looks at you with such sorrow

He sadly remarks upon how your beauty is fading... and how he fears that your life may be fading as well

Your heart aches to hear such sincere worry... Your chest feels tighter than it normally does as you crumble with guilt

You promise yourself you'll get better... Just so you won't have to see Rook with a horribly sad expression whenever he passes you

You start eating more in front of him to ease his worry, which does work a little bit

You add about 400 more calories to your usual intake--enough so that your "recovery" becomes visible through the way you bounce with energy

But you stay up late at night, running laps and doing situps to burn off some of that intake

And you keep losing weight

In fact, it's worse now because your body is aching from the unfamiliar intake and exercise...

Well, at least you look better

At least you have Rook fooled

Or so you think. It'll only be a matter of weeks before he catches onto your schemes and grows so distressed once again

He tries to sit you down and have a talk with you... He just really wants you to get help

Epel Felmier

Poor Epel finds out after he witnesses you collapsing in the middle of the hallway when no one else is around

He panics and rushes to your side, trying to see what is wrong and how he can help you

You blacked out for several seconds, which is why you collapsed, but even though you have your vision back, everything is still very cloudy and you are too weak to stand up

This makes Epel panic even more

You try to calm him down, despite your weakness

"it's okay, Epel...! Just get me something to eat. Please, I need something to eat. Hurry!"

He is a bit confused, but he does what you say, and he rushes off to find you some food

While he is gone, you try to stand, but to no avail. Your stomach aches with hunger and you are cold all over. Your body just feels so miserable

He rushes back to you with an apple and places his hands on your shoulders in concern as you quickly eat it down

That apple... It's the best thing you've ever tasted, but it's gone too quickly, and your mouth waters for more as the last bites slide down your throat

Although it was small, it still gives your body such a blissful burst of energy. All your senses are ignited now that you have finally eaten something after such a long fast, and your head is hurting far less

You stand up and smile at Epel, thanking him graciously before turning to leave

Uuuhhhhh.... What was that?

You suddenly collapse on the ground and then are all better after eating a simple apple?

No way is Epel going to let you go just like that. He holds you back, demanding an explanation, for it surely seems you know quite a bit about this bizarre thing that just happened

You try to tell him it's nothing, just a strange thing that happened this one time

Well, then, how did you know how to fix it by eating something?

You quickly lie and tell him you get dizzy sometimes and fall due to low blood sugar

Well, now your story is inconsistent

He presses you for the truth, growing rather angry

His harsh tone begins to scare you, and you tell him... You tell him that, sometimes, you go days without eating, and it of course causes you to grow so weary that you faint

You watch as all the frustration quickly rushes away from Epel's face, leaving his eyes wide and mouth hanging open in shock

"That... That's really unhealthy..."

Oh, great. Not this speech again

But, it actually isn't a lecture about how this is such a "dangerous diet"

Instead, Epel pours out all his concern with a sad look upon his face

He knows that he can't do much, but he assures you that you can come to him if ever things become too tough to handle

You're touched by his offer, and you thank him for his understanding

But, now, everytime he's around, he watches you with care to see if you're doing alright and to make sure you don't fall over again

You hadn't expected him to worry this much...

If Epel ever thinks that things are getting out of hand, he will likely go behind your back to someone who can help for your sake

💙

Idia Shroud

He really wishes that he hadn't found out because now he can't stop worrying

This is the kind of thing that would just be easier to ignore and shut away from his mind

But how could he possibly ignore something as serious as this?

He keeps telling himself that this isn't supposed to be his issue

But... It is his issue, isn't it? If you ended up dying and he knew all along about your suffering yet did nothing to help, than that would mean that he aided in your death, right?

He's really starting to panic. He doesn't what you dead. Not at all

But... What is he supposed to do???

He calms himself down and tries to think

Perhaps if he built you a mechanical body that didn't need food this whole thing would seize to be a problem...

No, bad idea

Well, that will be his last resort if nothing else works...

He messages you and tries to plead with you to please just eat and take care of yourself...

You message back, explaining to him that it really isn't that simple

He decides to ask why you're doing this, and he tries to show through his words how much he really cares

You feel comfortable enough in telling him some of the reasons why you think you started, and why it's now so hard to stop and all you want is to continue with it...

Idia is happy that you were able to open up to him this much, but what is he really supposed to do with this information? He's no therapist...

Well, being vulnerable with you emotions and talking about the problem is at least one step in the right direction, isn't it?

Idia continues to try to be a source of comfort for you, while also encouraging you to seek proper help

Ortho Shroud

Oh, no... He can’t help you with this, can he?

Why can’t he help you? Why won’t you get better?

Surely nii-san programmed him with something that could help you...

Right...?

RIGHT!?

Why aren’t you better?

Why are you doing this to yourself!?

Ortho is a mess... so distressed. He can’t understand--he doesn’t have the capacity to understand such a disorder, and he is so frustrated that nothing he does is helping!

And he does everything

He exhausts himself trying to “fix your mind”

His eyes are wide, yellow irises shaking with misery

Knowing that you are willingly hurting yourself actually traumatizes him...

He can't wrap his head around such an awful mental illness. To him, it looks as though you're really trying to harm, hurt, and even kill yourself by your own accord

Something must be wrong with your brain, but he just doesn't know what!

The poor child is so upset. He's panicked and worried sick

And now you feel even worse

Sorry for ending on such a horrible note... I was originally going to have all the dorms, so Diasomnia would’ve come and saved the day, but I just didn’t finish them.

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doctor-rainbowfoxey · 3 years

Text

Renegades Chapter 4 Part 4 The Wheel Part 1

Previous Parts: HERE

Cyclops gasped a breath but instead of a human sound it came out as a squeak. Cautiously he opened his eyes and to his bafflement found his world had turned to shades of grey and he could see much farther around himself than he was accustomed to being able to do. His hands and feet had become small paws. Cyke’s ears were much larger and to his surprise he had gained a slim tail with a tuft on the end. Long thin hairs stuck out in front of his face that tingle at the slightest reverberation. Most alarming of all, was the perception that he had been either dropped into a world of giants or perhaps into the body of a small rodent.

Knowing the best respite from his unease was obtaining more information about his surroundings Cyclops carefully ventured forward. The floor beneath him was hard cold concrete. Near him was what looked like the leg of a bed. Across the room he saw another similar bed, the columns of the legs rising like great trees to his eyes.

To his surprise a human hand descended from the heavens and Cyke felt the mouse's heartbeat accelerate in fear at the sight. His mind cried out to flee but despite it all he found himself frozen unable to move a muscle. To his profound relief the hands only seemed to be to feed him a small morsel of something edible. On instinct, Cyclops carefully smelled the offering as the mouse's hunger made itself apparent. Cheese!! In an instant, he reflexively snatched the cheese from the man’s palm and fled to carefully devour the food in relative safety. In response to this behavior, he heard a low chuckle that sounded familiar. Logan?

Despite his animal instincts Cyclops crept closer and dared to climb onto the man’s hand. Even though his heart trembled Cyke allowed himself to be raised for closer inspection in exchange for more cheese bribes. The stalwart mutant found himself entranced by kind ocean deep blue eyes so sharp with wit that they seemed to pierce through him.

Abruptly Logan’s attention turned away from Cyke towards outside of the room which looked to be another jail cell much to his annoyance. Not again the seasoned hero couldn’t help but mentally opine, not this again. Not only was he in the body of a mouse but he was once again behind bars with Logan. Upon hearing the sound of approaching steps Logan gently set his new dormouse back to the safety of the ground.

A waifish young police officer nervously fumbles with the lock as two of his superiors dragged something cumbersome between them. To Logan’s displeasure their burden is revealed to be someone, a man in fact. A growl of discontent comes from Logan unbidden at the sight of the young man being toted in such a haphazard manner, being treated as little more than an irksome burden as he lay limply by his arms in their grasp.

“Hey, Wildman!! We got a playmate for you! Try to be gentle!” The cops laughed derisively as they carelessly tossed their limp cargo to land with a thud onto the hard concrete floor at Logan’s feet. The dark-haired mutant scowled his displeasure at being used as an object in their sick joke. He glared with quiet violence simmering at the officer’s backs as they continued to laugh. Oblivious of the danger, the higher-ranking officers left to go about their business with no scruples. The rookie, on the other hand, swallowed nervously upon observing the feral man’s quiet menacing presence, shut the cell door with a jarring clank, and beat a hasty retreat.

“Fuckin pigs,” groaned the young man as he gingerly gathered himself to a sitting position. The man was slim with tousled brown hair of the longer style that so offended the older generations in the 1960s. He was wearing only a bright badly torn paisley shirt and trousers. Most concerningly he looked to have been thoroughly thrashed and beaten.

Ever prepared to assess a threatening situation Cyclops took inventory of the man's wounds automatically storing the information away for future use if necessary. Most shocking to the eye was his cut lip, a bloody nose on what would otherwise be a handsome face. A slash on his forehead that was bleeding precipitously staining the brightly coloured fabric crimson. Add to that the ripped clothing, the numerous bruises and it painted an unsettling picture.

Regardless, the man was unfazed by his injuries and seemingly unrattled by his poor treatment by authorities. All in all he seemed to be taking the whole affair in stride. When the man looked up Cyke was again struck by the strange deja vu at the experience of seeing an alternate version of himself. What was most surprising Cyclops was the man’s eyes were amber-brown, not red, and safely hidden by a visor. Perhaps this version didn't have powers, Cyke mused. Yet the way his keen eyes were scanning and tactically assessing his surroundings made Cyclops question his theory.

Memories of cornflower blue eyes and strong supportive hands came to the other Scott’s mind automatically. “Information is power Scotty and that clever head of yours is your greatest ally. Take in your surroundings, assess any potential threats, take inventory of yourself and any resources that may aid you. Prepare yourself to act in an instant if necessary.” The peaceful man tensed and the itch to prepare for defense or a rapid strike surfaced unbidden within him, years of training fitting like an unwelcome instinctual glove. Memories that once brought comfort now like shattered glass under his skin unmendibly bitter and dangerous in what their sharp edges may awaken.

Despite himself Scott could hear the distant baying howls of despair on heels of the hounding nausea of self-hatred the trained reflex triggered within him. Memories, like the spring-powered sharp steel jaws of a trap threatened to catch him in their grasp. Only thanks to years of practice was he able to wrestle himself free, close it's jaws and bury it once again. He could not afford to show weakness here. Another day the beast could have its way but not today.

The man in black looked his new cellmate up and down with schooled casual interest. ‘Be cold like ice, little bear’ sage words came to the feral mutant’s mind. Warm like alcohol on the tongue,’ but be fluid like the spring mountain stream.’ With a half nod towards the stranger he drawled a lazy inquiry,“so kid, what’d yah get?”

“Get? All I got was marinated in tear gas and the tender mercies of the fuzz’s billy club brigade,” answered the visorless Scott with rhye humor as he gainfully raised himself from holding court on the floor and re-established his dominion on the bunk across from Logan, with a sigh.

“What were you arrested for?” Inquired shorter man opting for a more direct approach this time. The man in paisley exhaled and looked skyward as if mockingly looking to a higher power for wisdom.

“Hell if I know,” scoffed the groovy Scott. For a man of such a drab fashion he sure is curious. Almost too curious, interesting. Two could play at this game and he would give as good as he got.

He continued, “Probably some trumped-up charges,” the alternate Scott stretched, stopping with a wince when the action aggravated his injuries. He looked chagrined like a fox that had been discovered out in the open, self-conscious at the thought of giving the other any sign of weakness. With the practiced iron-clad nonchalance of a believer committed to the struggle he elaborated, “stand up to the man, try to stop the wheel and they’ll take you away.”

“You were part of the protests today? Do you think a crowd of hippies with signs can stop the state's military industrial complex?” probed Logan with the sort of boring affect that took years to perfect.

Protests? Thought Cyclops his nose twitched and his whiskers vibrated with excitement as he listened to this universe’s counterparts with avid and shameless curiosity. Everything he had seen so far reminded him of the 60s. The garish outfits, the antiwar protests the pieces were slotting into place in the strategic mutants mind.

The other Scott leaned back and raised an eyebrow sagely. So completely at ease did the man look that the steel and cotton bunk he reclined on could have been mistaken for a plush throne. He wants to know about the protests huh? Interesting. He wondered who the man he was dealing with, was a cop or a bribed informant.

Logan raised an eyebrow surprised by his cellmate's overtly friendly demeanor and seeming sincere openness despite the young man's battered aspect “ah yes. Victory. From the looks of she’s a real devil and demands a sacrifice,” said the dark-clad man with a scowl and lowered brows.

“This? This is nothing, don't sweat it old man,” laughed the man in paisley as he gestured vaguely at his person. What’s with this man, thought the ex-avenger, does he think I am some kind of naive cub in need of shelter? As if on cue, his nose started bleeding again.

“Hrmph,” grumbled the shorter man getting up with a huff, stalking over to the other man to glower down at him, “nothing you say huh?” The other man meets his gaze with curiosity and a fearless blood-stained grin. Bring it on, thought the stalwart musician, he’d handled far worse.

For the briefest moments, Cyclops was wary for his counterpart, but he quickly realized that he needn't have been worried when the feral mutant deftly tore two strips from his cotton undershirt and threw them at the younger man before returning to his domain. “Take care of that, bub. Yer making a mess,” command the darkly clad man curtly.

“Right on. No need to, hacked-off old man, but thank you,” admitted the lanky man, slightly muffled midway through as he put a piece of the cloth to his nose as he tilted his head back to stop the bleeding. The hippie supposed he had a point and accepting some help couldn't hurt.

After a spell he straightened up, the bleeding having been halted to his satisfaction for the time being. Rubbing his brow in the same manner Cyke himself would often do when a migraine was beginning to settle in earnest, he looked at the dark-haired older man with his sensible earth tones and non-flamboyant fashion with dropped pretenses and tired eyes.

“I figured they would make an example out of someone, so then it might as well be me,” explained the young man closing his eyes tiredly. He continued, “I’ve had worse. Honestly, I’m more concerned about my guitar.”

Curious, the feral man entreated his companion for further elaboration, “your guitar? You're a musician?” Scott stiffly shrugged eyes still closed and looking like he was trying to take a nap.

“Huh. They are throwing musicians behind bars now or somethin?” Mused Logan stroking his chin scruff thoughtfully.

Upon hearing this, the peace-loving man opened one eye despite his aching head, “Seriously?”

The man in paisley queried and in response, the man in black nodded.

“Heh imagine, that,” mused the auburn-haired man. “Two star-crossed musicians thrown in the clink together. That's way out man. Unreal.”

“It is odd,” agreed the man in black. The two sat for a time in comfortable silence. Cyke could see his counterpart was stewing on something, the gears turning evident to even the untrained eye.

“You’re an informant aren’t you? Who’s your baker? The local police?” The flamboyant man looked pointedly at his cellmate with an intense suspicious glare while maintaining a lazy confident facade that never faltered. Worryingly Cyclops thought his counterpart’s eyes looked to have a ghost of a red glow to them. Logan on the other hand looked gobsmacked upon receiving such an accusation.

“What? I’m not a cop. Nor am I working for the fuzz,” denied the feral mutant with a scowl.

“FBI then,” Scott countered.

“No!”

Qq his life had become.

Signing in annoyance and in an effort of tempering his own molten ire, Logan rallied his patience and looked at the other man with eyes that tried to project as much honesty as possible.“I am not a spy,” he declared sincerely as if praying this would put a pin in the matter.

His lanky companion, however, was ignoring him in favor of trying to make the cat's cradle with the bandages he had still neglected to use. He hypothesized dryly “If I was a spy I’d probably deny it if questioned.”

“I am not working for your government,” the douir man spat looking disgusted at the notion. The nerve of this American surfer wannabe thought the bear like man as he hunched his shoulders as if prepared to deliver or defend from a blow.

The man in paisley leaned forward like a fox waiting to pounce on the mole it hears moving about under the snow, “So who are you spying for then, old man?”After this salvo his witty counterpart grinned, his enjoyment of their verbal sparring match clearly evident in his demeanor.

The dark haired man stood up again hovering over the slighterman and glowering down at the other like a wet bear that had been whacked on the nose. “I. Am. Not. A. Spy,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

The other Scott locked eyes with his stern companion for a few minutes, his amusement and lack of intimidation despite the efforts of the other plain to see. However, when the angle of his regard further triggered his migraine the Logan’s groovy opponent retreated from the staring battle. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, in a futile attempt to ease the growing pressure.

With a sigh of false surrender, the hippie breathed a reply with a pacifying tone as if he hadn't been the provocateur a split second before,”no need to flip your wig ol’ man. Keep your secrets.” The youthful musician mused worriedly that the power suppressors must be wearing off. The burden of being a danger to all around him like a vice like muzzle, an invisible cage of exhaustion and fear that never opened no matter how long he paced.

Seeing the other man had still neglected to make adequate use of the bandages, the shorter man sacrificed a completely decent shirt for, he snatched the cloth bandages from the other man now sufficiently distracted by his aching head. Cubs are always the same no matter the century, Logan growled mentally, cute as they were foolish.

“Give me those, yah fool kid,” demanded the older man.

“Hey!” Squeaked the other Scott indignantly.

“Budge over,” commanded the man in black, an order which the lanky man obeyed instinctively much to his chagrin. The feral mutant sat on his bunk then pointed at the floor between his spread legs.

“Come. Sit. Now,” urged his cellmate to which the colorful man looked back at him askance.

“Pardon?” Hesitated the man in paisley. He was not opposed to the idea, in spirit, but honestly his timing was far from optimal.

Logan said with exaggerated slowness making his opinion of the groovy fellow’s sensibleness clear. “I need to look at your head wound. This is the most optimal method. Ok?” Requested his shorter companion. Oddly Scott swore he could almost hear a faint hint of an accent.

Wearily the younger man did as requested and although the cold hard floor bothered him; he gave no indication. Both Scotts were surprised when the feral mutant pulled a small flask from a secret pocket in his jacket.

“How’d you manage that ol’ man?” Asked the hippie, astonished.

It was Logan's turn to grin, “after what I did to the other guy in the barfight the authorities thought it wise to keep their distance.”

Raising an eyebrow Scott looked up at his cellmate, “What’d the other man do to provoke such a response?”

Asked the other man, his earlier unease seeming to have vanished.

“He was coming on to one of the waitresses at the bar in an inappropriate manner. I politely asked him to leave. The man was a bad listener,” ebony haired gentleman with a nonchalant shrug.

“Right on. That's a completely understandable response to such a pickle,” noted the colorful hippie as he looked up at his feral comrade, his head practically resting in the other man’s lap. The other Scott’s eyes had a noticeable red glow as they gazed up into concerned blue eyes.

Logan seemed to be awkwardly trying to remember a name he never asked for and the other had never provided one so instead went for a suitable alternative.

“Um...uh …….kid?”

“Hmmm?”

Hummed the man in paisley.

Worried the animalistic man noted “your eyes? They're glowing red….”

“Ah that it's nothing. It's fine. I wouldn’t worry about it,” dismissed the lithe mutant who was by all appearances cavalier about his powers manifesting. Hopefully, it would be nothing, rationalized the ex-hero. Sparky or someone should be along soon to try to rein him in, a true dreaded necessity.

“Somebody should be coming to bail me out soon and they can spring you from the clink but only” elaborated the peaceful hippie blithely as he put his finger to the other man’s lips in the shhhhh gesture.

“But only if you can keep a secret uh….” The man in paisley tilted his head trying to remember the name of this charming acquaintance of his. Sensing his predicament feral mutant interrupted.

“Logan.”

“Uh right, Logan. If you can keep this little secret,” whispered the other Scott with an air of fondness. In his tone there was no trace of real concern or fear should the other man reject the offer as he continued,” then you can have your ticket out of this hell hole.”

“You have a deal um…” the shorter man replied haltingly since he still didn't know the other's name. I like this cat, contemplated Scott. He may be a bit gruff but he was easy on the eye and a mystery thoroughly worth unraveling.

“Scott but you can call me kid, hey you or whatever you want, ol’ man. I don't mind, “ the peaceful young musician confessed softly and almost seductively. To Cyclop’s surprise, this other Logan seemed to have blushed for a moment before gruffly handing his flask to his cellmate.

The feral mutant gruffly prompted, “Erm Scott is fine, kid. Here drink a sip of this.” When the other man looked questioningly at him he continued, “I’m going to clean your wound. The taste will help distract you from the pain.”

“You think so?” doubted the injured hippie skeptically.

“I do,” stated Logan with concrete certainty.

“Right. Sock it to me,” entreated the flamboyant man gamely.

The dark-clad musician handed him the flask, from which the adventurous man took a good sip, grimaced, and coughed. The dark-haired man deftly took the flask back dipping a part of the cloth in the alcohol and quickly went about cleaning the cut. Before the lanky man could finish processing how bad the brew tasted his head wound had been cleaned and bandaged.

The fashionable young man gasped, clearly not accustomed to such coarse fare, “oh God!! What was that? Paint thinner?”

It’s a favorite from my hometown,” divulged the dark-clad mutant. Logan's hometown vibes as unmistakable as his amusement at the other’s reaction,” it’s good eh?”

“I feel sorry for your liver. Say where is your hometown?” Wondered Scott.

“Canada,” answered the stockier mutant vaguely.

Before the man in paisley questioned his compatriot further, the rookie cop’s approaching hastey nervous gait made his return apparent. This time he was joined by a man wearing an expensive dark brown gold striped suit and gold dress shirt in tow. A minute later Cyke recognized him as a somewhat older Tony Stark complete with greying sideburns. Strange, mused Cyclops, uneasy at the Avengers presence. From his experience, nothing good came from Avengers becoming involved in Xmen's business.

To be continued Part 2 HERE

#scott summers #xmen #fanart #scogan #x-men #logan howlett #x men #retro #xmen fanfiction

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chimswae · 4 years

Text

BTS Caretaker CH20

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 4,714

- Author Note: I think i am going to change the time of my update, it would be around Sunday or Monday (MYT) , i am so busy with works :< and not to mention i have finished this fic since it is an old fic of mine ^^ so i dont have to worry about writing block ,(that answers my cliche writing, this was written in 2017 ) thank u for reading :(( idk that there are people reading this, but thank u <3

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Chapter 20

“WHAT THE HELL MIN YOONGI? YOU- OH GOD-ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?” Seul yelled as soon as they were inside Yoongi’s room. His eyes stared boringly into hers indicating how he was not affected by his earlier action even a bit.

Seul paced back and forth in front of Yoongi while raking her brain to make sense out of this. Her first curled up into a fist as she tried to contain her anger inside “YOU MUST TAKE RESPONSIBILITY OF YOUR CARELESS ACTION!” she grinded her teeth together with a dangerous glare at his way.

“Responsibility? What kind of responsibility?” his brows quirked in amusement and soon a devious smirk spread on his face. The tone of his voice was mocking her. Yoongi would never leave her alone, that’s for sure. He had gone through to this length just to ignore his feelings for Seul, yet it came to no avail. It was best to be himself, because after all that was his new year revolution.

“And it is not a careless action” he argued.

“THEN WHY ARE YOU KISSING ME WITHOUT MY PERMISSION? THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME! We still haven’t talked about the kiss that you stole from me before?” she was boiling inside, and he could see her cheeks were tainted red.

Yoongi cleared his throat “I don’t have the answers with me right now” the answer got Seul ticked off even more. Rude, Min Yoongi.

“Are you being serious? People don’t kiss just because they feel like it. You are crazy Min Yoongi!” she snorted.

“I swear I don’t have the answers with me right now. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I KISS YOU!” Yoongi defended himself eyeing the younger girl intensely.

Seul had a disbelief look “YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY, AND YOU STILL KISS ME?”

“Need I to remind you... this thing started because of you. You were the one who sexually harassed me first, or can I say in polite way... You kissed me” he rolled his eyes.

“Right, I kissed you because I need to save my ass unlike you. You kissed me for what? Revenge? Or do you have feelings for me?” she rubbed her temple easing the tense on her forehead. To Seul, Min Yoongi is confusing as hell not that she could read through him. He was too mysterious. His blank expression was not helping at all, only add to the pain throbbed on her head.

Flustered Min Yoongi clenched his teeth together getting annoyed over Seul’s little interrogation “If I have feelings for you so what?” he snorted sarcastically.

“IT IS WRONG!”

“WHY IS IT WRONG? You out of all people have no right to question my feelings”

“BECAUSE WE DON’T EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER FOR GOD SAKE. WHY WOULD YOU LIKE SOMEONE LIKE ME AT FIRST PLACE”?

“I didn’t say I like you. I said If I have feelings for you which appear to be none” his words stabbed her heart making her glowered in annoyance. “Then good, because you are annoying me” she flailed her arms to her side with a soft huff.

Yoongi hissed under his sharp breath, letting the anger inside him to subside “Look, we really have to stop meeting like this” he murmured.

“You have to stop kissing me first, then we will stop meeting this way” she sassed.

“I told you I don’t have the answers to why I am kissing you god, why are you so pushy?” Yoongi deadpanned. Watching how persistent Seul was to get the answers to her equations, he did not want to give stupid reply just yet or else everything would turn upside down over night.

“I am not being pushy, I have the right to know. You are kissing the lips that owned by me not by someone else. It is only logical to question your motive. So, tell me Min Yoongi-ssi” Seul straightened her body as she built her confidence to look straight into his eyes “Are you making a move on me because if you do, I will reconsider it. That is if you ask nicely and being bluntly honest to me” she raised her brows waiting for Yoongi’s reply.

This girl really…Why am I getting cornered. Yoongi groaned in frustration.

“I am not making any move on you”

“Then, first explain the kiss” Seul was determined to settle this shit between her and Yoongi. The things had been circulating for months, and his unexplainable actions after the first mistake that she committed only bring more harm to her heart. She no longer wanted to live her life this way.

“Do you want me to kiss you again? Why are you intrigue by the kisses!” Seul clasped her hand over her mouth instantly upon afraid that Yoongi might make any move on her again. She was not ready to feel his lips hovering over hers again. That sinful mouth of his brings more harm than good.

He smirked unknowingly at her reaction, giving him an upper hand to win this mouth battle. Much to his surprise Seul caught up too soon when she fired him back “Just because you are a horrible kisser” she lied. Yoongi is a good kisser even better than her. She just did not want to admit to it because by admitting to her subconscious it simply mean she’s accepting his action.

And, it would be a bad move.

“What a foul mouth for such a tasty lip”

Her eyes rounded with sheer embarrassment. “Tell me or I am going to scream and let everyone know you are trying to take advantage on me” she threatened to cover up her embarrassment.

“You won’t dare”

“Don’t push me” her eyes now meeting his again into an intense staring competition. None of them wanted to back away since it will only taint their egos.

“Then do it” crossing his arm, he kept his gaze on her as she moved backward with a playful smirk before opening her mouth ready to scream. Pinching his eyebrows together, he looked displeased by her determination and he knew Seul would not back down that easily.

Yoongi hated the idea of attracting unnecessary attentions from the members outside considering the stunt he pulled in front of Taehyung and Hoseok moments ago. Seul is a real troublemaker. “SHUT IT BEFORE I KISS YOU AGAIN” scowling angrily, Yoongi made his way to where she stood.

“STAY AWAY OR I SCREAM!”

To her surprise, her empty threat put his stop at halt. Yoongi was standing still holding back his anger as he rubbed his hair making him 100 times sexier than he was.

“Fuck..Fine..You are different, it triggers my curiosity” she tilted her head demanded more answers from him only to receive a death glare from Yoongi. He continued nonetheless “The kiss is not just a kiss. I might.. I repeat, I might feel something else whenever you are around. Ugh fuck, ever since that day I couldn’t get you off my mind. I tried but the thought of you and the kiss that we shared was affecting me” he shoved his hand inside his pocket coolly. It sounded like he was professing his love for Seul, however he did not want to sound desperate and creepy.

A heavy lump on her throat made her breath hitched for a moment, as Seul responded changing the tone of her voice “You might, and it doesn’t mean anything right” she mentally screamed with the possibility of superstar Yoongi fall for her.

He glared “I made it clear earlier. I don’t know” Yoongi blurted out with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“When will you know?” she chewed her lower lips nervously.

“Stop asking question! I DON’T KNOW”

“THAT IS WHY I AM ASKING DUH”

“This so-called talk is not working. Now, out you go” Yoongi motioned Seul to the door with his hand. Never in his life to feel this affected by a simple girl like Seul. Barely did nothing there only to tease him with her sassiness that equally good as him tainted his ego. Before he succumbed into this rainbow thoughts that he had for Seul, this girl must be push away from him for the time being.

Her dominant side was severe.

For the first time in his life, he was intimidated by a girl.

“Are you chasing me out?” she gasped dramatically.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “I am so done with your shit” he turned her body facing the door as one of his hand twisted the door knob, lightly pushing the girl outside. Seul almost tripped on her own feet, however Taehyung encircled his arm around her waist swiftly making sure her face would not kiss the ground.

A loud slam from the door behind them made her eyes squeezed tight until Taehyung’s not so angelic voice but still angelic to her ears brought Seul out of her dreamy state “Are you alright? What happen to you and hyung inside?” he asked worriedly.

Seul balanced herself with the help of Taehyung and sighed heavily “I am fine. Thank you. Your hyung is not keen of having people inside his room, doesn’t he?” she chuckled nervously to ease the awkwardness between them.

“Mmm…. I think he can be pretty aggressive when it comes to protecting his personal space”

“Right..” she muttered weakly after using the last ounce of her energy fighting Yoongi, she felt her mouth dried from the dreadful banter she had. Thankfully, she was so close in finishing her task for the day. Seul wanted to leave as soon as possible. The presence of Bangtan’s members in the house were suffocating her. Neither Hoseok nor Taehyung dared to bring up the things that they witnessed earlier which was a good thing.

They should ask Yoongi but not her.

Seul was not in the right mood to digest anymore Min Yoongi issues in her mind.

“Are you sure hyung did nothing to you inside?” another angelic voice almost similar as Taehyung but only this guy had a soothing smile on his face. His smile alone helped to calm down her racing heart.

Seul returned his concern with a warm smile “Thank you Hoseok-ssi. Nothing happen so don’t worry” Hoseok nodded.

“Hoseok” he corrected before continued, “This formality makes me feel uncomfortable. By the way, I still have to thank you for taking care of me last time. Thank you, Seul-ah,” his friendly tone was so welcoming and Seul grew fond of Hoseok’s presence in the room.

“Don’t be, I really hope you feel much better Hoseok. You look pretty worn out that time. Don’t overwork yourself. My mother really flipped out upon hearing the news” Hoseok chuckled gleefully, pressing his lips together showing his gratitude once again. “Oh, can I continue doing my job? I had enough dramas to deal in one day so allow me to complete my job before I leave” she glanced at Taehyung and Hoseok as if seeking for their permission.

Taehyung finally broke his silence “I will do my own laundry so go straight to your last task” he suggested.

“Are you sure? I am paid to tend this job. That is not good idea Taehyung” she found herself calling his name a little too friendly and dropped the formality without she realized. Not to sound overly confident, by the end of the day everyone would make her call them by either their names or ‘oppa’. Therefore, instead of going through the same process all over again she would gladly do it to avoid any problems in the future.

He shook his head frantically with his cute signature smile once again taking her breath away. Why is he so unreal? Seul complimented mentally. She had decided to comply to Taehyung’s words and went straight to clean Jungkook’s room. The maknae shared it with no one but still the room was in huge mess.

Jungkook owned two computers and there is music equipment at one corner filling up the room. A small space for him to sleep had clothes scattered messily on it. Seul made a mental note to place a small laundry bag next time so the youngest of the group could store his dirty clothes inside it. She wondered if he even slept on the bed, it seemed to her Jungkook would be the type of guy whom fell asleep on his chair after some long dreary game sessions. After making sure Jungkook’s game controller were placed neatly on the table, Seul made her way straight to the kitchen.

Jimin told her in advance to not cook today since Jin and Jungkook would come back with groceries. The eldest man in the house insisted to cook them good food today therefore Seul took out the side dishes like kimchis prepared by her mother this morning into their fridge.

Smiling to herself, she was relieved to see everything was in order and squeaky clean. Seul decided to leave since she’s late to work already. Stood in the living room was Jimin with his stupid cute dorky smile, “Are you leaving already?” he whispered almost inaudible, yet she managed to catch it.

“Yes I have to get to work. I will see you around Jimin”

“Seul wait” Jimin pulled out a cute box from his pocket and handed it to her.

Confused, she took it hesitantly “What is this Jimin?”

“A Christmas present, I wanted to give it to you but I didn’t get to meet you..I hope you like it” he exclaimed shyly. Jimin put a lot of thought in purchasing the gift because knowing Seul, she might feel burdened by it. To see her beautiful smile as she admired the presents in her hand made this thing less awkward.

“Thank you.. I don’t know what to say. It is…wow..Thank you Jimin” her cheeks felt hot over this simple gesture by a guy like Jimin. Do not overthink, he is a nice guy. He did this because he feel indebted that I am cleaning their place. She assured herself to not get ahead of herself.

“Your welcome”

Human emotions are funny and can be pretty confusing. In his case, Jimin was unsure of himself. Did he do this to befriend Seul or for his personal gain? What was his personal gain again.

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

A day without phone meant the death to Seul. She thought she left it at home even though after a thorough search, it was nowhere to be found. She looked for it everywhere at her home and workplace, well except the boys’ place. Would it be possible that she dropped it there yesterday?

As much as she wanted to check her phone at Bangtan’s place, she feared the boys would be home at this time. Even though by having one of the members contact gave her an advantage, but she could not remember Jin’s number at all. How’s she going to contact him?

Groaning in frustration, Seul rested her chin on the table murmuring unclear protest in process. She screwed up big time. This was as frustrating as the night Mr JK left her hanging with the new year kiss. It had been a month since the incident, yet he’s nowhere to be seen.

She put a false hope on him.

Seul planned to confront him the next day after the incident, however to her dismay he did not show up like he usually does. She waited and waited until the shop was about to close, only to disappoint her even more. Shut it. Her main concern was supposed to be for her lost phone not the lost Mr JK.

The sound of the bell from the main door rung diverted her attention towards the next customer. She stood up getting ready to give a deep bow but instead she’s welcomed by the sight of familiar figure. The infamous Mr JK stood before her in his black sweater, black coated jeans and black snapback completing his fashion along with his signature black mask making him to appear like a fugitive.

Their eyes met, and it rendered her speechless. He lost so much weight in comparison to the last time they saw each other and for an odd reason her heart ached in response upon witnessing this. She had been missing him to be honest, however she tried not to overthink about it since it only pain her.

Jungkook took few slow steps towards Seul not breaking their eye contact, his feelings were raging inside. Day by day he wished to see Seul again just one more time to tell her how much he missed her. As if the world stopped for a moment, Seul found herself was drawn into Jungkook’s intense gaze.

She felt small and was a little conscious over the look that he gave her. Her heart pounded against her chest raging to come out by anytime soon. Within a second, Jungkook was standing in front of her like a perfect sculpture gazing down at her face making her squirm a little due to the intensity. His arms were soon wrapped securely around Seul tugging the shorter girl into his warm embrace.

Her lips agape in wonder, embracing her own thought. Seul small hand found her way to his chest, as she clutched onto it, burying her face in his chest. “I miss you” he murmured lowly. His hand moved up to her torso then, holding her in place at the waist as he took a moment to enjoy holding Seul in his arms.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, and it gave her a roller coaster feeling. Yes, she missed him. Yes, she was mad at him for leaving her just like that. Yes, she was happy to see him again. Yes, she was confused of herself.

How’s she going to survive 2017 if she failed to sort her own feelings?

Jungkook pulled away after a moment, running one of his hand to give a soft caress on her fluffy cheeks “I am sorry for disappearing. I should have come sooner. I was too caught up with my job, I couldn’t find time to see you” he confessed.

“Why..are you doing this to me. You left me without any words. Do you think that is funny” she gulped the heavy lump on her throats as she was aching to bawl her eyes out this instant.

“I really wanted to see you Seul, I am sorry for leaving you without any word. That night was overwhelming I pondered upon it hard these past few weeks. I started to question us” his whispers were genuine giving some sort of conformity to Seul.

Seul blinked her tears away, looking straight into Jungkook’s eyes “You cant just barge into someone’s life, make them feel special and then leave” she looked as if she would cry, shaking her head again as her lips quivered piteously.

Jungkook looked on her tears with eyes full of regret, he had hurt his woman, and this was not right the thing to do when it was started to fall to its own place. He glanced around the store making sure there was no one there since it was almost 2 in the morning, luck was on his side. There was another part time worker with her, to their sheer luck he was cleaning the kitchen behind leaving only the two of them there.

“I am not barging into your life just to make you feel special and then leave Seul. You are special and important to me. I want to make things real between us” he exclaimed while one of his free hand loosening the mask covering his face.

His determination really got him, and this was the perfect time to reveal himself to Seul. If he’s planning to take this thing to the next level, firstly he must unravel the secrets and started sharing it with her. This girl deserved the truth.

Daringly, he leaned forward, left hand stroking her cheeks lovingly as he finally pulled down his mask revealing his face to Seul. Her mind froze as soon as her eyes landed on Jungkook’s face trying to decipher the image once again. She could not bring herself to say this aloud even though she was confident it was the same person that she assumed it to be. Even without his makeup, she remembers the details on his face. From that perfect jawline aligned beautifully along with the scars near his cheekbone was the real evident to feed off her curiosity.

“Jungk-“ Jungkook didn’t need further encouragement as he reached for her face, caressing his thumbs over her pouty bottom lips, before locking her lips with his. Seul’s grip tightened on his shirt, allowing herself to melt into his kiss.

His tongue probing and stroking her inner warmth dizzying Seul. The kiss with Jungkook has always been so intense as if he’s pouring his heart and soul into it. Even though after learning the truth Mr JK was Jungkook all along, she couldn’t help but wonder how an introvert guy like him had the courage to make a move on a stranger especially a woman this way. He stepped out from his comfort zone just to convey his feelings.

Jungkook gentled his mouth, softly nuzzling her lips before finally pulling away. She stroked his neck, breathing softly against his lips as she opened her eyes once again meeting his sparkling gaze. Seul would never be tired staring into that innocent doe eyes.

“I am Jeon Jungkook, nice to meet you” his soft chuckle was adorable.

Seul still couldn’t believe that Mr JK is the Bangtan Sonyeondan’s Jungkook. Now that really messed up. Technically, she had a short so-called fling with one of his members, would it be bad to kiss two best friends at one time though she was still unclear with her own feeling for any of these guys?

“Jungkook…I think we need to talk” she threw him a worried glance caused the latter to shift uncomfortably. He despised that look, it meant he was about to get rejected. That was the sole reason why he was hesitated to reveal himself to Seul. He did not want to push her away from him. Due to his glamorous life, some people in his life included his best friend started to drift away from him because of his fans. Some fans could be a little too possessive making it hard for him to appear in one photo with his friends without hurting the other party.

Therefore, it was rare to see him being photographed with others other than his members. Jungkook would only appear in a group photo and in rare occasion he would post his personal selfie for the fans. Other than that, he lived his life under the radar.

“Jungkook…Seul…” the familiar voice caught them off the guard shifting their attention toward the individual who had a solemn face at the door step.

“Jimin hyung…” averting his gaze from meeting Seul, Jimin felt the anger bubbled up inside of him. Rather than anger, he would call it as jealousy. Seul face hardened as she cursed in her head not liking this thing a bit. Crossing her fingers, she hoped nothing bad happened today.

“How long have you been standing there?”

Jimin scoffed as a sign of disapproval “Long enough to witness your romantic adventure” the tone of his voice confused the latter.

“Hyung.. do you know Seul?”

His eyes fell on silent Seul, as he strutted slowly to their direction “She is our caretaker, Jungkook. Does Ji Seul even rings a bell in your head” Seul did not dare to look at Jimin knowing his nasty glare was basically ripping her sanity, full of hatred and anger.

Jungkook gasped “WHAT? SHE IS OUR CARETAKER?” his pitch raised an octave higher. “How can I not know this?” he mumbled to himself registering the information that he heard.

“Of course you don’t. She is sly as fuck. Alluring everyone into her own little world, making us liking her one by one” her head snapped, looking at Jimin with a disbelief look. His accusations were contradicting to his action toward her previously.

How can someone change so drastically?

What change him?

Bewildered Jungkook was alarmed by Jimin’s choice of words. The hyung that he knew would never use inappropriate words unless something ticked him off. In this situation, he did not know why Seul’s presence angered the older guy.

“The lips that you just kissed was the same lips that kissed Yoongi hyung” Jungkook face contorted in pain, everything that he heard today overwhelmed him.

Jungkook croaked softly “Hyung…what is this all about” he inquired.

“I heard from Tae and Hobi hyung. Yoongi hyung and Seul have kissed before and apparently it isn’t their first time” Seul felt tears in her eyes. What did she get herself into? The soft and sweet Jimin was no longer there.

“So Jungkook tell me, will you let yourself being fooled by a bitch like her”

“HYUNG! DON’T SAY THAT! She doesn’t even know my name and face until today! I made the move on her first”

“Does she not know you? Really Ji Seul?” Jimin chuckled bitterly.

“If I had known it is Jungkook, I would never get involved with him” Jungkook heart was stabbed by her words though he knew she didn’t mean it. She was hurting. It was crystal clear.

“All you woman says the same thing. Lies after lies”

“Tell me what do you want me to do Park Jimin! I don’t want to be dragged into your stupid world, I am doing this for my mother. My crappy luck brought me to you guys and it never stop since then. I wish for once everything works normally just the way it used to be. I live a decent life before all of you come into the picture. I made it clear that I wanted this relationship to be strictly professional. But you guys were pushing me to the edge leaving me no choice” her tears slipped. Jungkook watched her with a heavy heart and his urged to pull Seul into a hug topped his loyalty for Jimin.

“I learned to accept all of you. I made new friends from this, Jin is a good friend so does Namjoon. Yoongi is confusing but it never dawns on me to plot any mischievous plan to seduce him. I enjoyed Jungkook’s company because for once I have someone real to talk to instead of my family and best friend. I may not know Taehyung and Hoseok that well, but they make me feel welcomed and appreciated. And you Jimin…I thought we could be friend…Guess I am wrong” she choked on her own tears, tearing Jimin’s heart apart.

What have I done. Jimin clenched his fist.

“Seul…” Jungkook was about to utter something but was cut off by new presence in the room.

“You fucking screwed this up Park Jimin” Seul mustered her strength to look up searching for the source of the voice. Jungkook and Jimin followed her gaze to the welcoming sight few metres of them.

The squad is here. All of them.

Yoongi’s eyes flared up in anger, and his expression was unexplainable. Obviously, he was displeased to see his girl got hurt. Now, he’s referring her as his girl, this need an explanation. Stood beside him was calm Namjoon and Jin, throwing their sympathy glance at Seul. Not to mention, when their eyes collided with Jimin it turned into a hyena glare making the younger guy to shrink in fear and guilt.

On the other side was Taehyung with an unamused face, shaking his head mentally judging his best friend for taking such rash decision. He was not supposed to tell him about the kisses, he did not expect Jimin would act thing crazy.

To answer that question, the only possibility would be Jimin had a feeling for her.If that is the case, his action was an act of jealously.

“What are you guys doing here…” Seul grumbled.

Hoseok retorted “We heard everything. We are here to clear up the mess”

“And this is will be a long night. Pack up, you are coming with us” the leader ordered with a stern voice.

#btscaretaker #bts fluff #bts romance #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #btsfanfic #jungkook x oc #yoongi x oc #jimin x oc #taehyung x oc #jhope x oc #bts x oc #yoongi fluff #jungkook romance #jungkook fluff #bts idolau

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tlbodine · 4 years

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What Zombie Movies Teach Us About COVID-19

As I write this, it is April 20, 2020, and 42,514 Americans have died of COVID-19, the disease caused by a deadly novel coronavirus first discovered in late 2019. South Korea has just 237 deaths from the disease.

The two countries learned about the virus at roughly the same time, and had the same amount of time to respond to the disease. But the responses took wildly different paths, with vastly different outcomes -- as you can see.

But I’m not here to talk about that, not exactly. I’m here to talk about zombies.

Train to Busan (2016), directed by Yeon Sang-ho, tells the story of a zombie outbreak in Korea, with the action focused predominantly on the passengers of a train. It’s one of my favorite zombie movies, in large part because the flavor of its zombie narrative is so different from the types of zombie stories we see in America. It’s a fresh spin, driven by cultural influences and the director’s vision, and it’s a movie that’s been at the forefront of my mind since watching the vastly different responses of South Korea and the USA to the current pandemic.

Train to Busan is a film concerned with the morality of classism, a theme repeated in many South Korean exports (see 2019′s Parasite for another example). Innate in that premise is a moral statement about collectivism, cooperation and kindness that runs contrary to everything American zombie fiction holds dear.

Train to Busan’s main character, Seok Woo, is a fund manager, a white-collar businessman who operates in the financial sector. In his introduction, we see him reviewing reports of the biological leak that we the viewer already know is responsible for zombies; he advises a concerned investor not to sell his shares, as the reports could be false or the worry is premature -- and then, a moment later, hangs up the phone and sells his own shares. It's implied later that his role in financing the company may give him some moral responsibility in the disaster -- ie, he invested in a company, knew that it was harmful, and reacted not by blowing the whistle on that harm but instead by selling his ownership and thus profiting.

The film treats this as morally reprehensible. Indeed, Seok Woo's storyline is a tragedy: We will see him brought low by his flaws, struggle to overcome them, but ultimately fall short.

This is quite different from American zombie narratives, which more often than not place the hero as a working-class underdog who finds himself suddenly uniquely equipped to deal with the threat at hand. Consider police officer Rick Grimes (and, for that matter, hillbilly archer Daryl) in The Walking Dead, or retired U.N. investigator Gerry Lane in World War Z. Perhaps the best example of the type is Zombieland's Tallahassee, a quintessential "Florida Man" -- rough around the edges, crude, eccentric, socially inept but good with a gun and a willingness to adopt the role of patriarch in the post-apocalyptic found family narrative.

Implicit in American zombie fiction is a promise of role reversal, of a social upheaval in which established ruling classes will no longer matter and in which new lines of power can be drawn -- and that power rests squarely on a foundation of guns, violence, and a small but tightly knit family structure united against external threats both human and supernatural.

Of course, guns can’t serve as a currency of power or survival in Train to Busan because there are no guns. South Korea has some of the world’s strictest gun laws, and nobody riding on a passenger train would have a firearm at the ready. This makes for a much more thrilling narrative thanks to the balance of power shifting heavily in the zombie horde’s favor; it also forces characters to work together for survival, relying more on wits than strength.

Like many zombie film protagaonists before him, Seok Woo is a father -- a disengaged, overworked father, but one who’s trying his best. But unlike some horror movie kids, his daughter Su-An is more than a victim-in-waiting; she’s the moral centerpiece of the story, an external conscience who serves to gently remind her father of his misplaced priorities and call him on his bullshit.

Fleshing out the rest of the cast are more unlikely heroes: a high school baseball team, a homeless man, a pair of old ladies, and a middle-aged man, Sang-hwa, traveling with his pregnant wife. Sang-hwa is an especially important character, holding up a mirror in some ways to our protagonist: he has a successful, loving marriage where the hero's has failed; he is a doting, patient father where Seok-woo is out of touch.

It is hardly coincidental that this core group of characters is comprised almost exclusively of vulnerable people. And once the zombie disaster strikes, it becomes clear that the job of the less-vulnerable is to step up and protect the most vulnerable, even within a group where no one is especially skilled, heroic, or well-trained to deal with this.

Self-sacrifice is the recurring theme of Train to Busan, delivered with a bludgeoning regularity -- but each death is valorized, the narrative making it clear through its storytelling techniques that these sacrifices are meaningful and heroic.

It’s worth noting, too, that the self-sacrifice that drives the narrative is made necessary by the selfishness of others. Sang-hwa is bitten and stays behind to hold back hordes of zombies only because another group of survivors locked them out of their car.

Those exclusionary survivors -- a group spearheaded by a rich businessman who declares himself early on to be too important to risk his life -- receive their comeuppance soon enough. Here's the clip in all its satisfying glory:

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All of which is not to say that self-sacrifice is not a trope that shows up in other zombie media as well. But I have never seen it the focus of a film with such brazen commitment before.

In Hollywood storytelling, self-sacrifice all too often comes in two flavors. The first: The only righteous path a fatally flawed anti-hero can take. The second: A heroic cop-out, where the character sacrifices him/herself but fails to actually die thanks to unexpected circumstances -- suggesting, thematically, that willingness toward self-sacrifice is all that is required, and that good things come to those who deserve them.

In a lot of zombie media -- and post-apocalyptic media in general -- storylines often flirt with the morality of sacrificing other people for the greater good. Heroes will grapple with the decision, and the one who pulls the trigger may ultimately succumb to guilt or plot karma (Shane and Otis in The Walking Dead, for example), but the discussion is given serious weight and consideration.

Train to Busan makes it clear that such cold calculations aren’t just villainous, they’re cowardly and pathetic.

Other popular zombie tropes that fail to make an appearance in the film include:

A self-appointed leader calling the shots and telling others to get in line

The asshole pragmatist arguing with the self-appointed leader

The untrustworthy outsider and/or villainous mole

The weak or cowardly idiot who gets people killed by virtue of being useless and/or careless

Utterly useless or corrupt government/military/authority

In many zombie stories, man is the real monster, and this holds true in many ways for Train to Busan. But the focus is different. Rather than the monster being the outsider who comes for your supplies, or the stranger who you trust only to be stabbed in the back, the worst humans in Train to Busan are those who act with distrust and selfishness.

Declaring yourself the leader, securing a perimeter, and making a difficult choice to turn away strangers at the gate in order to protect your own group is the action of heroes in a show like The Walking Dead. In Train to Busan, those same actions are villainous and ultimately lead to ruin.

On the flipside, soft-heartedness in American zombie films is often both foolish and disastrous. Consider, for example, Hershel’s barn in Season 2 of The Walking Dead, where walkers are corralled in dangerously high numbers out of an optimistic belief that they can be cured. Just as heroic self-sacrifice becomes a recurring theme in Train to Busan, an endless cycle of trust and betrayal is the signature of The Walking Dead, and the show routinely rewards its moral centerpieces -- like Dale and Hershel -- with deaths that are treated not as valiant but as senselessly tragic.

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But let’s get back to my central thesis. What does any of this have to do with COVID-19?

When South Korea first became aware of the threat of the novel coronavirus, its government immediately launched a response called TRUST: “Transparency, Robust screening and quarantine, Unique but universally applicable testing, Strict control, and Treatment.”

The heart of the program was testing, not just of obviously sick people but of those without symptoms or known exposure -- and then carefully tracing the contacts of those found to have a positive result and isolating anyone who was infected. But the price of this widespread testing goes beyond the monetary needs of dveloping and administering tests; it comes too at the cost of certain freedoms. The South Korean government is able to track down and contain its citizens through credit card records, cellphone data, security cameras and other Orwellian security devices that would make most Americans' skin crawl. Add that to a cultural norm of wearing medical masks in public and obeying social distancing as a matter of course (less casual touch and physical contact, greater personal space) and South Korea’s spread of disease has been quite slow.

Meanwhile, in the USA, people across the country are breaking social distancing rules in order to gather in public and protest the quarantine measures that have left many without jobs and which, some say, infringe upon civil liberties. Mixed messaging about the efficacy of masks, and a long history of masks being associated with crime, have also made it hard to win Americans over to mask-wearing in public -- even though if we could get 100% of people wearing masks, the spread of disease would drop dramatically (and the economy could open sooner).

Countless political, historical, and socioeconomcic factors are at work differentiating these two nations, and the situation is infinitely more complex than any movie. But I do think viewing the coronavirus through the zombie apocalypse lens helps to make sense of these wildly different responses to the disease.

Time and again, America’s zombie media has hammered home certain essential lessons:

When times get hard, you will be called on to step up and take decisive action

Difficult decisions will need to be made, and the people who are too soft-hearted or cowardly to make those decisions will put others at risk

The safety of your own family (or found family) is paramount, and any threat to the family must be immediately destroyed

Survival will be a matter of strength, guns and resources

Institutions like the military, government and police are useless at best and often corrupt or downright murderous; you can trust only in yourself

Viewed in that context, it’s hardly surprising that the United States response to the pandemic has involved hoarding supplies, buying guns, distrusting scientific authorities, and even staging protests.

By comparison, the take-home lessons from Train to Busan are quite different:

No one person is above or more important than anyone else

If you have power, it is your duty to protect those who are more vulnerable

Selfishness invites trouble

Self-sacrifice is heroic and sometimes necessary for the greater good

All of which is not to say that there is no value in the American lessons. There are times when the values of individualism, decisive action, self-sufficiency and suspicion may well be exactly what is needed for survival.

But during a pandemic of a disease that overwhelmingly affects the already-vulnerable -- the elderly, those with disabilities, those living in poverty -- it seems self-evident that values tied to protecting the weak and working together to protect public safety are the values that will prove most successful.

At the end of Train to Busan, the survivors of the ordeal is not the strongest, best-prepared, or cleverest of the people on the train. They are young Su-An and Seong-Kyeong, the film’s most vulnerable characters -- and also its kindest. In an ending reminiscent of Night of the Living Dead, they emerges the sole survivors to face the path of armed military men who at first mistake her for a zombie. But Train to Busan is, for all of its tragedy, a film devoid of cynicism. The soldiers stop just short of shooting when they hear Su-On singing and realize that she’s alive.

In the end, it is quite literally her humanity that saves her.

Living in a time of coronavirus means making self-sacrifices, including personal liberty and livelihood. And while none of our sacrifices are likely to be as dramatic as those made by characters in Train to Busan, they are no less heroic or necessary.

And that is, to me, a lesson worth remembering.

#long post #horror movies #train to busan #the walking dead #zombies #covid 19 #horror analysis #film analysis

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harlot-of-oblivion · 5 years

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A Rose of Unconscious Beauty (Part 6)

When Vergil arrives at your garden, he did not foresee having to deal with a horde of demons or his nosy little brother. Nor was he expecting his lovely rose to be caught in the middle.

It’s finally finished! Hope ya’ll enjoy. ❤❤❤

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part. 🌹🥰🌹

Chapter 2: Dealing with Dante

Vergil has always taken pride in being calm and collected at all times, especially when he wields the Yamato. Extreme emotions can cloud one’s mind and cause amateur mistakes on and off the battlefield. He has mastered the ability of supreme focus. He thought nothing could shake him out this state once he has put the flame into the void…that is until he witnesses a Fury demon hurling itself straight at you.

The flame within the void bursts into a roaring fire as he quickly jumps into action. Dealing with demon is an easy task, but he is still fuming as he inspects you. His eyes roam all over your body, frantically checking for any sign of injury. The very thought you getting hurt turns the flame bright blue as his body starts to hum in rage, so close to entering Devil Trigger. If he had not been here at this exact moment to protect you…he cannot help but to think about that day long ago…

I almost lost you, my lovely rose. Just like-

“Vergil!”

The sound of your sweet voice breaks him out of his tempestuous thoughts and pulls him away from the brink of Devil Trigger. “Y/N.” His feet move of their own accord towards you as he examines you again, noticing your glistening eyes and gracious smile. “What are you doing out here?” he demands as he also takes note of the bloody gardening tool in your hands.

Your hands lower from their defensive stance as he gets closer. “I was gardening and helping your brother when- Ah!” Your explanation is cut short by Vergil swiftly picking you up into his arms as he heads for the backdoor of your home.

“Get inside,” he orders as he puts you down. “I’ll take care of the demons…and my foolish brother.”

You do not argue with him as you open the door and step inside. Before he can turn to go, your head peeks out of the door. “Be careful, okay?” you implore, voice full of concern and eyes gleaming with worry.

Vergil nods and you give him a small comforting smile before shutting the door. He turns away and reigns in his rage, putting the flame back into the void as he stalks over to the neatest demon beyond your garden. Dante’s rowdy taunts echo throughout the street as he slices his way towards his brother. “What a nuisance,” he mutters as he cuts down demon after demon, taking out his anger at this entire situation on them. He knew Dante was up to something when he came back to an empty shop after his weekly sparing session with Nero. His son actually gave him a bit of a warning before he left…hinting that he should introduce you to Dante.

But of all the ridiculous scenarios he ran through his head…he did not foresee you out in the open, left alone, and in grave danger while demons run amok on the streets. And his little brother, being his usual daft self, not taking anything seriously. Vergil growls harshly as the image of you bravely holding up your gardening tool in defense as the Fury lunges at you pops into his head. The demons may be getting the brunt of his ire, but when he gets to Dante...his body begins to hum lowly again as he finally catches up with his brother and joins the fray, dispatching the remaining demons with ease.

When the last demon falls, Dante laughs as he holsters his guns and turns to face his very irate brother. “Hey! Fancy meeting you h-”

Vergil teleports in front of Dante and skewers him with the Yamato. “That is for being nosy scum.” Dante grunts in pain as he withdraws his blade, making sure it to twist it a bit as he dislodges it from his chest. “And that is for not ensuring Y/N’s safety.”

Dante kneels down in agony as he clutches the fresh stab wound on his chest. “What’re you talking about?” he hisses. “She was on her way-”

“A Fury almost cut her down!”

“Oh shit…is she okay?”

“Yes,” Vergil replies, barely containing his anger as he summons his swords. “No thanks to you.” Dante rolls out of the way of the first sword and continues to dodge the barrage of blue blades coming his way. He tries to talk his older brother down from his wrathful onslaught, but Vergil is having none of it.

“What in carnation?!”

Both of the brother’s heads snap over at your punny exclamation as you jog towards them. When you come to a halt a few feet away, Vergil ceases his attack and takes the time to double check for any injuries upon your person. He notes your very simple gardening attire: green overalls, gardening hat, and well-worn black boots. The bloody gardening tool that you used to defend yourself is still in your hands. Your face is aglow with a light sheen of perspiration and your brilliant eyes are wide as they look between him and his brother in amazement. Seeing you standing there safe and sound quells his white-hot anger down to a low simmer.

Dante brushes off his clothes before breaking the silence. “Weed it and reap!” he bellows, spreading his arms wide as he gestures all around the street.

You blink and tilt your head thoughtfully. “Hmm…perhaps you really are a hoe!”

Vergil’s brow furrows in confusion at your strange observation as Dante’s boisterous laugh rings out through the air. Your mouth curves into a small grin as your eyes track over from his little brother to him. Those alluring lips that constantly haunt his thoughts widen into a wondrous smile. The last ember of his smoldering anger is snuffed out as you approach him. “Are you okay?” you inquire softly, making a familiar warmth bloom within his chest. “I still have the first aid kit if either of you need it,” you add while pointing back towards your garden.

Dante speaks up before Vergil has a chance to respond. “I don’t need it, but Verg has this nasty cut on his back.”

Vergil scowls at his brother’s interruption. “I do not have-”

A sharp sting slashes across his back, causing him to growl in pain as he stumbles forward and bumps into you. His annoying little brother must have taken the opportunity to set up an ambush while he was distracted by your approach. You drop the gardening hoe as you try your best to stop his fall. Vergil glares at Dante’s retreating back he continues to talk. “I’m gonna put the petal to the meadow and ride ‘round the block,” he informs as he summons Cavaliere. “Gotta make sure there aren’t any more demons that need a good hoeing. And if there are…” He reaches into his jacket and dramatically puts on a pair of aviator sunglasses. “I’ll dill with it.”

Vergil snarls in response as he summons his swords again. Dante quickly hops onto his fiendish motorcycle and speeds away, successfully escaping the cascade of blue blades. You peek around his body and softly squeal in astonishment. “Does the power of Sparda also include fast healing?” you wonder aloud as you pat his back, trying to feel out the slash wound that should be there.

“Yes,” he huffs as he straightens himself, doing his best to divert his attention away from the warmth of your hand pressing firmly against his back.

“Huh…” You glance up at him and clear your throat as you take a step back away from him. Your cheeks turn pink as you crouch down and pick up your garden hoe, quietly repeating your offer of first aid. Vergil’s scowl softens as you stand back up, touched by your concern for him. He declines first aid as he extends his hand to help you up off the ground. You smirk coyly as you take his hand. He gently wraps your arm around his before escorting you back to your garden. When both of you get to your gate, he opens it and gestures for you to go through first.

Your eyes sparkle with curiosity as you enter your garden. “Do you and Dante always stab each other?”

“It’s how we bond,” Vergil lightly jests with a soft chuckle as he steps through the gate and closes it behind him. “What feeble excuse did my wretch of a brother use to intrude on you?” he queries, his own curiosity getting the best of him as you take off your gardening hat.

“He wanted burgundy roses for his desk,” you answer as you begin fanning yourself with the hat. Vergil stares at you inquisitively, subtly admiring your disheveled hair as it blows away from your lovely face. “He also Dad-teragated me,” you tack on as you start to wander off. His brow scrunches up at that statement, perplexed by the phrase “dad-teragate” as he follows close behind you.

You pause in your tracks and scan the ground, eyes lighting up when you find whatever it is you are searching for. “Then the demons attacked and one tried to burn down my apple tree!” you exclaim excitedly as you trot a short distance away and pick up a garden hose. Vergil quirks an eyebrow as you spritz the air with misty water. “I gave it good smack though!” you beam proudly as you hold up your bloody gardening hoe and clean it off with the hose. A grumbling growl escapes his lips as he pins you down with an intense stare. “But then Dante shot it down!” you quickly add as you finish cleaning off your gardening tool.

You wouldn’t be my lovely rose if you didn’t drive me mad, Vergil muses to himself as he sighs and pinches his brow in slight irritation. He hears you rustling around as he takes a moment to collect his thoughts. For once in his life…he is grateful for his brother’s interference into his private affairs. That still does not excuse him from running off and leaving you alone though.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

The sound of your endearing catchphrase shakes him out of his broody ruminations. You have put away the gardening hoe and your hands are wringing the gardening hat as you gaze up at him. The buzzing irritation rumbling around his head dies down as he stares deeply into your worried eyes. His mind grasps for the right words to explain…that seeing you any kind of danger makes him feel…

Vergil takes a deep breath. “As much as I admire your courage to take up arms, you should’ve sought safety as soon as possible,” he rebukes softly as he steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder. “You could’ve been seriously hurt…or worse.” His vexation starts to grow as he recalls other times you could have been in danger. “And must you be friendly with every stranger that happens upon your garden? Or go harvest berries in the middle of night? Demons could show up anytime and-oof!”

He is taken aback by your body crashing into him. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his chest. Vergil stands stock-still as the heat of your embrace washes over him, melting away all his aggravation. He feels light-headed as your intoxicating scent floods his senses, breathing you in with every breath he takes. The familiar warmth in his chest grows and rises up to his cheeks. He sighs indignantly at himself, annoyed that you once again managed to make him blush like a besotted buffoon.

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” you murmur against his chest. “I’m not used to having somebody around…looking after me.” You look up at him, adoration shining through your eyes as you gift him with your vibrant smile. “Thank you, Vergil.”

Your soft words of gratitude ease the tension throughout his body within your tender embrace. “You don’t need to use a promiscuous gardening tool to defend yourself,” he affirms softly while placing a tentative hand on your back, mentally noting the subtle hitch of your breath at the contact. “Not while I’m around.”

“You sure?” you giggle. “My hoe is pretty formidable!”

Vergil laughs as a soft smile tugs at his lips. His thumb begins to gently brush small circles your back, trying to prolong your presence against his body. You take a shuttering breath as your cheeks flush crimson and he grins in victory as your arms squeeze him tighter. Vergil feels a strong desire take ahold of him. It compels him to keep you as close as possible while he gazes down upon you. He cannot help but wonder if your lips feel as velvety as they appear…

The sudden sound of distant upbeat music drifts through the air. Both of you flinch and look around in confusion. You consider for a moment before suggesting that the tune is probably blaring from a nearby car parked on the street. Vergil’s eyes narrow in suspension as they survey the surrounding area. Your body shifts away from him as you announce that you need to get something. He reluctantly loosens his grip around your waist and watches you disappear into your vast garden.

Vergil carries on investigating the intrusive melody’s origins, walking further into the garden until his keen eye finds the source of the romantic music. Dante is standing some distance away, failing miserably at hiding behind some tall bushes as he holds up a boom box stereo. Vergil glowers at his brother, silently warning him to cease whatever foolishness he is up to, but Dante just gives him a cheeky wink and an encouraging smile.

The rustle of dainty footfalls softly approaching Vergil from behind stops him from forcefully ending his idiotic brother’s antics. He turns around and sees you standing by the garden fountain. As he walks over to meet you, he notices your hands are behind your back, undoubtedly hiding some flowers. You glance up at him nervously when he comes to a halt in front of you. “I just want to, umm…” you mumble quietly, pausing to clear your throat before going on. “When that demon came at me, all I could think about was you and…” You bite your lower lip as you swing your hands around to reveal a bundle of small yellow flowers.

“I think you’re dandy, and I’m not lion!” He quirks an eyebrow as he tilts his head at your curious pun. “Ah, sorry!” you say, shaking your head as you bring the flowers up to your chest and stare straight into his eyes. “What I mean to say is I care for you…deeply.”

Vergil’s heartbeat quickens at your open and honest admission. He recognizes the flowers in your hands to be dandelions. If memory serves him correctly, they are presented when someone believes that the recipient will bring happiness to their life. It also represents a promise of total faithfulness. These particular flowers, along with your tender words, rocks his very soul as he puts all the pieces together and interprets what you are trying to say…

You’re the only one for me.

His stunned silence must make you anxious again as you hurriedly hide your face behind the dandelions. “I uh…probably shouldn’t have told you that while wearing dirty gardening overalls.” You peek between the flowers as you brush your unkempt hair behind your ear. “Not exactly the epitome of charm and grace right now, huh?”

While you are busy turning pink behind the small yellow blooms, Vergil summons his swords and swiftly cuts Dante’s meddlesome music short. He distracts you from his brother’s quiet yelp of pain by stepping up closer to you. “I have something for you as well,” he admits while reaching into his coat. “Hmm…it seems only one survived the battle,” he notes as he reveals a single cabbage rose. A pile of pink and white petals from the other ruined roses rain down from his coat. You smirk and bend down to grab a handful of the petals off of the ground before throwing them into the air with a playful giggle. He hums in amusement at your impromptu flower shower before presenting you the lone pink and white cabbage rose.

“You have never looked more ravishing than you do at this moment,” he marvels as his eyes blatantly admire every inch of your body. “Dirty garden garments and all,” he adds with a small grin, hoping that you hear the sincerity of his words, spoken and unspoken.

You set my heart aflame.

Your radiant eyes gaze up at him as your hands lower the dandelions away from your face, no longer hiding the delightful crimson blush currently spreading across your cheeks. The strong desire to pull you close comes back in full force as you reach for the cabbage rose. “Will you allow me…to put this lovely rose in your hair?” he hesitantly requests as your fingers wrap around his hand.

Your eyes widen in surprise as your blush spreads all the way up to your ears. “Yes,” you utter quietly, looking absolutely adorable as you gently nod your head. Vergil smiles softly as he steps up closer to you and rests the Yamato against the garden fountain. You lower your hands and turn your head slightly, presenting him the side of your hair you wish the flower to go.

With steady hands he brings the rose up and carefully places it just above your ear. Your scent ensnares his senses once more as his fingers sift between your lustrous hair, making him feel pleasantly dizzy as his body hums in contentment. He feels the need to talk, but his mind struggles to come up with proper words. So, instead of putting himself at risk of sounding like a graceless galoot, he relies on his memory and recites a poem that reminds him of you:

The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple's a rose, And the pear is, and so's The plum, I suppose. The dear only knows What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose - But were always a rose.

Vergil successfully secures the cabbage rose in your hair just as he finishes his recitation. He drops one hand down to the dandelions still in your grasp while the other hand lingers down slowly, letting the back of his fingers tenderly caress your soft cheek. You shiver at his touch, slightly turning your head to gaze up at him in awe. He gently clasps both of your hands as he realizes that you are very much like the burgundy roses sticking out of your pocket: unconscious of the beauty you hold within yourself.

“Uh,” you breathe out, your eyes flickering down as he begins to brush a thumb across your skin. “I think a stray petal may have gotten into your hair,” you point out sheepishly. An annoyed grunt escapes his throat before he can stop it. You laugh lightly at his reaction before speaking again. “May I?” you urge sweetly, raising one hand up towards his hair.

Vergil smirks as the memory of you plucking petals from his slicked back hair comes to mind. He would be lying if he said he did not like it. In fact, he finds the feeling of your delicate fingers brushing through his hair oddly soothing. He leans his head down, accepting your gracious offer as you stand on the tip of your toes. Your head tilts to the side as your hand reaches up, but he does not feel it touch his hair.

Instead, your hand gently cups his chin as you lean up and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. Searing heat flares throughout his body from the affectionate touch of your lips. It only lasts a few seconds, but he still feels just enough to decide that your lips feel more satiny than velvety…like the silky petals of a lovely rose. You settle back down on the ground, soft lips grazing his skin as you pull away. He can feel his own faint blush tint his cheeks as you grace him with one of your magnificent smiles. He does not even feel annoyed as he realizes that your power must include enrapturing him with your rustic beauty and gentle gestures.

The intimate moment between you two is broken when Dante’s voice starts singing from behind the bushes. “Vergil and Y/N sitting in a tree…” Vergil glares harshly at the greenery as he summons a single sword, hoping to stop his foolish brother from further embarrassing him.

“K-I-S-ugh!”

Dante’s howl of pain brings a satisfied smirk to his face as you stare quizzically at your bushes. “My shrubs must be quite the hang out spot, huh?” you quietly quip.

Vergil chortles as you hand him the dandelions before going over to inspect your very vocal shrubbery. The immediate string of gardening puns has him shaking his head as he places the small yellow flowers inside his coat. He informs his brother that they have taken up enough of your time as he grabs the Yamato. Dante agrees as he steps out of the bushes, cradling the now beaten-up boom box close to his chest. His little brother has the gall to shoot him a wide grin, probably believing that his musical interference actually helped him in some way.

With a sad sigh and a little pout, you lead them back towards the garden gate as you thank them again for saving your life. Dante responds with his usual foolhardy rabble, making Vergil roll his eyes when he brags about being the biggest hoe in town. You giggle at his brother’s crassness as you hand him the burgundy roses still in your pocket, apologizing that it is not a full bouquet. When Dante suggests dropping by whenever he feels like it to receive the proper number of flowers, Vergil forcefully shoves him through the gate as he chastising him for not at least setting up an appointment with you first.

You laugh and close the gate behind them. “Take care, guys! Don’t be a stranger!” you chime happily, giving them a farewell wave as they set off back to the shop.

Dante waves back at you while Vergil nods his head in your direction. When they are some distance away, Vergil decides it is the perfect time to really lay it on his brother. He vehemently expresses the extent of his displeasure at Dante's snooping and disturbing you at his expense. Dante just sighs and nods along, letting him vent out his frustration for a couple of blocks. When Vergil is done with his scathing rant a tense silence falls between them for about another block.

Dante breaks the silence when they get to their street. “You got yourself one feisty flowery friend, Verg,” he comments with a chuckle before launching into his own impressions about you. He seems genuinely excited that you know how to make pizza and strawberry donuts. He likes your flower showers and quirky sense of humor. But the one thing that truly amazes him is your knack for clever puns.

The corners of Vergil’s mouth twitch into a smirk as his brother goes on and on with his gushing praise. All of the exasperation whirring inside him fades away as thoughts of you play like a movie in his mind: the heat of your body warming him in your tender embrace, the sight of his gifted rose in your beautiful hair…the feel of your silky lips pressing a delicate kiss against his cheek. He is not aware how long his brother’s ramblings last as he gets lost in thought. He glances over at some point when he realizes that Dante has stopped talking only to see that wide grin back on his little brother’s face...no doubt pleased with himself that he caught his older brother smiling like an idiot.

Vergil scowls and quickens his pace, marching past his brother as to no longer see his self-satisfied smile. His speedy stride helps him reach Devil May Cry well before Dante. He climbs the stairs and unlocks the front door, intending to escape his brother’s general existence by rushing straight to his room...but his hand pauses on the handle as he remembers your retelling of Dante’s disruptive visit. His little brother deserves every bit of his wrath when it comes to his nosiness, but Vergil also acknowledges that he should give credit where credit is due. So, he waits for his brother to catch up with him.

When Dante finally arrives at the shop he begins to explain his ludicrous side of the story, but his words trail off when Vergil calls his name and pins him with a very intensive stare. They both stand there quietly for a moment...until Vergil finally speaks with utmost sincerity in his tone.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, Verg,” his brother replies with a nod as he gives his brother a warm smile.

Vergil smiles back as Dante ascends the stairs and gives him a brotherly clap on the back. They enter the shop together and split off in different directions. Dante goes straight to his desk and places the burgundy roses you kindly gave him in front of the portrait of their mother. Vergil heads up the stairs as he informs his brother he will be back down in a little while to talk. Dante’s eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly nods his head as he takes a seat on the couch. When Vergil enters his room, he cannot help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of today’s events. Your rather chaotic introduction to Dante is not exactly what he had in mind, but he is still glad that his brother approves of the blossoming friendship between you two…even if he will never admit it aloud to Dante’s face.

And as he stores the dandelions in his hidden ornate box with the other flowers you have given to him over time, he vows to always protect the lovely rose that miraculously bloomed among his briars.

Read Part 7 (Ch. 1) here

Read on Ao3

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healthtech102 · 3 years

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After Hours Medical Advice

As you know, and certain have in mind every day, nursing is a career that carries a huge amount of duty. Be sure to guard your self, especially when asked for advice in an informal setting.

No, Uncle Bob has cornered you within the hallway after Christmas dinner. In trying back, I realize that not as soon as during this experience did anyone INVITE me into a discussion of what could be best for my mother.

She spent two nights in the hospital beneath remark, with IV hydration. Now, admittedly, she has varying levels of dementia even on a good day, but she reached the point of getting severe hallucinations and paranoia.

Having a whole remedy group looking out for you and preparing a discharge plan that is going to set you up for achievement. 90 days of therapy allows for the affected person to work via many of the above mentioned considerations and we treat it using an American Society of Addiction Medicine dimensional assessment.

The general size of keep in remedy that is really helpful is often ninety days. Health safety and prevention is the key to staying healthy for the long haul. From easy blood checks and vaccines now to mammograms and colonoscopies later, your doctor might help you turn into the healthiest model of you.

Although it might appear to be a problem now, one hour in a physician’s workplace now can add years of health to your life. When we have well being questions and considerations, it’s easy to show to good ol’ WebMD for answers. And even though the Internet can be a great well being useful resource, reading about your health points online can usually lead to pointless fear and fear. Remember, you might be unique and deserve a customized evaluation.

So instead of browsing the web for a generic, or even worse, incorrect answer, talk to a doctor in particular person to get the total image—and to cease dropping sleep over your questions (see reason number 5!). While I’ll be the primary to confess that a trip to the gynecologist’s workplace isn’t my favourite way to spend a day, annual pelvic exams are a important a part of any girl’s preventative health care.

Will we have to battle the battle of keyword voids at a grassroots degree, wrangling with the asymmetry of passion by tapping folks to search out these voids and create counter-content material? Do we need to arrange counter-GoFundMe campaigns to pay for ad campaigns that promote real science?

Do not rely on a form’s basic remark that “risks of leaving were discussed with the patient,” he says. That doesn't negate the value of those documents, however they should not be the sum complete of the hospital’s evidence displaying efforts to provide care.

First, the hospital must reconcile any excellent diagnostics, as a result of if any checks had been ordered, the hospital is still liable for checking the results to make certain nothing critical was identified, he says.

Despite our protests, she saved making an attempt to pull out the IV fluid line from her arm and the gizmo , and tugged at her gown. The paper-thin pores and skin on her arms was black and blue from a number of blood attracts. Successful treatment begins with an correct diagnosis, and our experts take the time to get it right.

A team of specialists will listen to your needs and evaluate your condition from each angle to make the very best plan for you. Every year, more than one million individuals come to Mayo Clinic for care.

If witnessed by RN, have them doc the time the patient left in addition to the standing of their IV. If an IV is still in place, first try to contact the affected person after which their emergency contact.

From all the information you've gathered from the Internet and your research, it's time for you to go to your physician with this data and get to know the details. It is important to decide on doctors with whom you're feeling snug.

The level of questioning I got in response to my advice was almost insulting at times. In my head, I advised these callers, “If you trusted me sufficient to name me together with your ailment, why aren’t you trusting my opinion?

Our highly specialized experts are deeply skilled in treating rare and complex circumstances. I actually have been put in this identical position so many times, that I lastly, like you, needed to tell them to contact their supplier or go to the ER/Urgent Care.

I owned a small household follow clinic and some would actually present up there quite than going to their PCP or ER. I do perceive how onerous it is to tell them to go to their PCP’s, but I believe that is the proper motion. We love our family and pals and do not need to see them ill or in ache, however we additionally want them to obtain goal care.

I actually have been practicing as a Nurse and APP for over 15 years now and have found, for me, robust boundaries come with time. You don’t have a look at them as patients, but as whomever they are to you.

YOUR ability to want them to be OK and not be as goal as you'd be with a affected person. Another disagreeable facet effect of trying to assist was the pushback I received.

doctor certification, from the Membership of the Royal College of General Practitioners, and checked performance towards historic outcomes from an independent 2015 examine that evaluated several symptom checkers. symptom checker seems as a chatbot that users can work together with by way of an app or web site. When the consumer varieties out their primary symptoms as a quick sentence or phrase, the symptom checker asks questions about possible related signs.

According to the NIH, 30-40% of Americans report having occasional symptoms of insomnia and 10-15% report persistent issue sleeping—with ladies representing nearly all of those affected.

While you could assume that a poor night’s sleep simply means you’ll need an extra cup of espresso in the morning, chronic sleep problems can actually improve the lengthy-time period threat of hypertension, melancholy, and diabetes. treatment medical disclaimer A physician’s visit can help identify attainable underlying causes for your restless nights—and get you the help you should truly get some zzzs.

Does your family have a history of diabetes, excessive cholesterol, heart disease, cancer, or another significant illness? If so, you could be at risk for these conditions, too—and there are likely issues you can do to decrease that danger. A doctor may help you find out and work with you to determine which screening exams you want.

"Casual" could exit the window, if the individual you advise feels you have triggered them harm; together with your recommendation or deeds. State legal guidelines differ greatly and litigation can truly change the legal guidelines as time passes. So as a nursing skilled, even if your action or advice was justifiable, there isn't a safety from being sued . You might prevail and be discovered "not liable" if sued, but by then you'll have gone by way of plenty of wasted time and pointless stress.

They might help detect vaginal infections, together with sexually transmitted ailments , and should often embody a PAP smear for cervical cancer screening. Although you might have heard about some current adjustments to screening recommendations, the U.S. Preventative Services Task Force nonetheless wants women between the ages of 21 to 65 to get a Papanicolaou test (a.k.a. PAP smear) a minimum of each three years (or more incessantly when you’ve ever had abnormal results).

The lawsuit claimed that Dr M had failed to recognize the patient’s skull fracture and improperly released him when he was intoxicated, and that the delay in treating the fracture was attributable for approximately half of the affected person’s neurological deficits. Later that day, a hospital radiologist learn the affected person’s x-ray and famous a markedly depressed left parietal cranium fracture.

Or will the tech platforms where that is occuring start to grasp that giving legitimacy to health misinformation by way of high search and social rankings is profoundly dangerous? Getting excessive-quality, fact-based well being information shouldn’t be dependent on the result of SEO video games, or on who has extra assets for pay-to-play content promotion. few hours of a newborn’s life, medical doctors administer a vitamin K shot.

This is as a result of infants are born with out sufficient of the vitamin, and the child wants a boost to prevent any potential bleeding. The documentation also should detail the discussion with the affected person regarding potential risks from leaving AMA, Merkrebs says.

The reasons for refusing additionally may be wide-ranging, every little thing from worries about the price to concern about ache or dying, or dislike of being touched, photographs, surgical procedure, or drugs. Once a affected person is examined beyond triage and exams are ordered, a departure at that time could be classified as left without completing remedy , Klauer notes.

Patients leaving the emergency room too soon “are intentionally putting themselves at extra danger for morbidity and even mortality,” Polevoi stated — a degree echoed by other physicians. Ko stated the column will proceed as long as individuals want to study totally different health subjects. Connect with a medical skilled everytime you need one, 24/7, for customized recommendation and prescription, if deemed necessary.

At the end, the symptom checker identifies possible causes and recommends a course of action, similar to reserving a video consultation with a human physician or going to a hospital. The patient and his family consulted with a plaintiff’s attorney who agreed to take the case. Dr M was shocked to find out that he was being sued for medical malpractice.

Within each of these kinds of AMA, there may be further breakdowns when it comes to why the person is leaving, he notes. The affected person might not want any care of any type, or the refusal could also be extra limited — refusing the particular kind of care being provided, as an example, but still willing to be handled.

That's to not say all of the internet is unhealthy, it is okay to make use of Google for health questions when you use a credible supply and if it prompts you to go to your doctor should you could have considerations. Without limiting the generality of the foregoing, the Author makes no representations or warranties with respect to any Information offered or offered within or via the Site relating to treatment of medical circumstances, motion, or software of treatment.

“When sufferers convey themselves into the ED, they are seen in about 5 minutes by a qualified registered nurse and, on common, are seen by a supplier within 30 minutes of arrival,” Thomas mentioned in a press release.

From 2012 to 2017, the variety of emergency room encounters in Fresno County elevated by nearly ninety five,000, or 37%. At Fresno’s Community Regional Medical Center, about 9% of ER encounters ended with a patient leaving too quickly, greater than 3 times the statewide fee.

If no success, contact the police non-emergently to aid in finding the affected person. In this situation, the patient has not but interacted with a doctor. There isn't much to do here as long as the provider by no means met the patient, if so, they might be in a different category.

There are no known instances the place the ED, or ED Providers, have been sued and located to be at fault or responsible for an end result. We recognized people ages with International Classification of Diseases, 9thRevision prognosis codes for infective endocarditis within the National Inpatient Sample, a representative pattern of United States hospitalizations from January 2010 to September 2015.

We plotted unadjusted quarter-year developments for AMA discharges and used multivariable logistic regression to establish elements associated with AMA discharge among IE hospitalizations, evaluating IDU-IE to non-IDU-IE.

The police were notified, and the patient was taken from jail back to the hospital. At the hospital, he was monitored for a number of hours and then taken to surgical procedure where the depressed fracture fragments have been elevated. However, Mr G ended up suffering a brain injury from the fracture which affected his cognitive talents, and which prevented him from with the ability to hold down a job. The police knowledgeable Dr M that the patient, a 24-yr old named Mr G, had been the perpetrator of an assault and in the process was hit within the head with a blunt object by a bystander.

The police had been called, and found him mendacity on the street, clearly intoxicated and with a bloodied head. They took him to the ED, however Mr G was uncooperative and initially refused any treatment. When most individuals hear these words, they're whispered by an overcoated stranger on the bus or a counterfeit Prada peddler gesturing towards the trunk of a car.

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sometimesrosy · 5 years

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Personally, what bothered me about the season 3 Bellamy massacre of the grounders was not the fact that it happened, or that it was OOC (it was very much in character IMO) but that a) it was too rushed; Bellamy required little to no convincing, b) it resulted from a lack of communication between Polis and Arkadia more than anything else, and c) it was never really addressed much after it happened. Bellamy isn't punished at all for what he did, besides being beat up by Octavia.

I disagree with your assessment of Bellamy’s lead up into the massacre and the results after.

There was a CLEAR development of Bellamy being pushed too far by the grounders and swallowing it and accepting it because Kane told him he should. Because Octavia did. Because Clarke did. He had a break when MW blew up, when Gina died, when Clarke turned her back on him. It triggered his trauma from MW, and since all of s3 stems from the trauma of s2 (caused by Lxa I might add,) it is in NO WAY rushed. It is sustained.

In fact, it goes back to season ONE. But Arkadia decided to be allies with the grounders because that was the “right” thing to do. Except the grounders kept BETRAYING them. Lxa SOLD them to MW. And then kept them confined to Arkadia, not allowed to travel, trade or even use MW as a resource or residence, despite it NOT being the grounders, and THEIRS by fair right of victory. What right did Lxa have to keep them from living in a perfectly sustainable mountain that no one else claimed? Arkadia had no FOOD. They had no defenses. And here was MW, and they weren’t allowed? And when they DO go to use it, the grounders attack. And that wasn’t even JUST the Azgeda, because there was a whole discussion about how they would attack if sky crew USED too much of the mountain they won.

Go back and watch again and pay attention to the way the grounders were oppressing sky crew. To keep them weak. And defenseless. And THEN Clarke, who has been KIDNAPPED and held as a hostage, and Kane, who has been making concession after concession to the people who betrayed them and left them all to die, decides that everything is okay, including the attack on MW and massacre of farm station, because she and Lxa took care of it?

What did they take care of? Lxa’s political problems. What she did for sky crew was make life MORE dangerous for them. She set up an armed and dangerous army right there. Within easy reach. The only way it’s safe is if they can trust Lxa not to betray them and turn on them again. Which they cannot. ALL the grounders agree that Lxa has no honor, has treated sky crew badly, and is making poor political decisions. ALL of them. Warriors, villagers, ambassadors, counselors. Every grounder with an opinion thinks Lxa is wrong and not trustworthy in season 3.

When have the grounder alliances NOT ended up in grounders trying to kill sky crew. No really. When did the coalition not try to destroy their people. NEVER. They never stopped doing it. And they started when Jasper swung across the river. BEFORE any signal flares caught fire. They hung him up. As bait. As a trap. As a message?

So when you say Bellamy’s decision was too fast and he needed no convincing, I have to think you’ve forgotten the narrative where grounders, the coalition, trikru, and Lxa KEEP TRYING TO ELIMINATE THEM. You also ignore the psychological manipulation of Pike, which is actually so obvious you could call it grooming. Pike WORKED Bellamy, who had just had a terrible shock. Pike wanted vengeance, and he wanted Bellamy on his side to get it.

And when you say he was’t “punished” for his actions, oh yeah except for being vicuously beaten, because well that doesn’t COUNT apparently, you aren’t paying attention to the narrative which keeps bringing up Hakeldama, far more than it brings up Lxa betraying Clarke and the delinquents at MW, or their attack on the dropship. No one even MENTIONS how they poisoned Arkadia’s watersupply, along with blockading them. Season 3A is like, completely shadowed by grounder attempts to wipe sky crew out of existence. And it’s like you don’t even notice. But instead say BELLAMY wasn’t punished for the TERRIBLE act of following Pike in the Hakeldama massacre.

We even have a witness, Indra. Who says that Bellamy actively tried to stop it and keep Pike from going so far, and saved her life, and you’re still blaming BELLAMY like he had no right to defend his people against the people who were trying to kill him and whose presence felt like a threat.

YES. He was wrong. YES. There was no communication between Pike and Polis, but part of that was because when Kane WAS in communication, he ended up conceding EVERYTHING. Pike made the point that the brand that they got in joining the coalition was a lot like the brand you give cattle before slaughter.

Kane messed up. He didn’t consider the fear and stress of his people. He spent too much time wanting Lxa to like them and accept them and gave up too much of their power. Arkadia voted Kane OUT, by a landslide, because they wanted to stop being at the mercy of the grounders, WHO WERE ACTIVELY WEAKENING THEM AND KEEPING THEM TRAPPED.

I would say that the narrative didn’t tell you this so you missed it BUT THE NARRATIVE DID TELL YOU THIS. We heard it with the boundaries they weren’t allowed to cross. We heard it with the limits place on using MW. We heard the dangerous decision they had to make to use MW to save Nyko or let him die. We heard about when Farm Station started living in MW and they were concerned about how Polis wouldn’t like it. We heard about it when Bellamy and the delinquents were off on a mission and they had to be careful about crossing boundaries and they were worried that the incident where they killed the grounders who attacked them might cause another war. We heard about it where the grounders had a price on Clarke’s head. We heard about it when the grounders killed arkadians and brought their heads back as messages. We heard about it when the lake was poisoned.

So, when you act like Polis were the good guys who wanted peace and Arkadia were the bad guys who just wanted to kill the good guys… WHO are you listening to? Lxa may have wanted peace, but her peace required domination of everyone else. This is not actual peace. It’s OPPRESSION. Her solution of killing Nia was for HER benefit. She got rid of her rival. It did NOTHING for Arkadia. It did not make up for what they did to Farm Station or what they were doing to Arkadia, or what they did to the delinquents. Clarke wanted Lxa’s help. She wanted Lxa to stop killing her people, to be friends. Lxa was NEVER going to be real allies with the sky people because she wanted them to remain without power. THAT’S why she didn’t let them take possession of MW, even though it would have solved territory problems. It was because the stability and technology of MW would have given the sky people POWER over the grounders. Lxa was not a peacemaker. She was a tyrant. And Kane and Clarke were trying to make nice with her and it did not work.

And then you say that Bellamy was somehow the one responsible for Hakeldama?

That was PIKE. IN CANON. First of all, the grounders ALWAYS give credit and blame to the leader. Thats why Clarke is given credit for defeating MW, not Bellamy. Because she’s the leader. Credit and blame. Bellamy was a soldier in Pike’s attack. Pike is the one who was punished. He was the chancellor and he was the general leading the attack. He was REMOVED from power… by Bellamy, I might add, and given to the grounders and imprisoned and tortured by Indra (who, I might add, has come to terms with Bellamy in s3 s4 and s5 and has now forgiven him.) He was also killed by Octavia. So, I mean, if you’re going by the grounders’ view point, since it was a crime against the grounders, then you should be following the GROUNDERS’ rules for it. Pike. Not Bellamy.

I don’t understand why you’re acting like Bellamy had no reason to do what he did. Held all the blame for the hakeldama massacre, and hasn’t been punished for it, despite an actual on screen, brutal beating, capture, blame from Niylah and another slap, condemnation by Kane, his mentor, clear and continued regret and active decision making from then on out where he is not only determined to make amends for what he’s done, but to change his behavior, be a better man, and MAKE SURE OTHER PEOPLE DON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE.

He had a scene in s3 where he learned his lesson and tried to impart it onto Octavia. He had a scene in s4 where he tried to impart that lesson onto Riley and succeeded. ANd a scene in s5 where he taught Madi that killing and vengeance was not how you made a better world.

I mean, the grounders run around blaming sky people for EVERYTHING. Even things that are their own fault, like the attack on the drop ship leading to the ring of fire. Like they want to wipe out all skypeople because of something that was created 100 years ago, by their first commander even. Sky people come up with solutions to a global catastrophe, and they’re still like, no we’re going to kill all of you. But you think BELLAMY doesn’t get punished enough.

So wait. You think blood must have blood should be the way it works. Although Hakeldama was retaliation for MW. So it WAS blood must have blood. ONly. If you believe in blood must have blood, what you will have is a never ending cycle of violence. Because you’re ALWAYS trying to get retribution.

What I suggest is actually, instead of trying to understand why Bellamy was so wrong, you STOP trying to place blame on one person or another, stop trying to decide who the bad guy is, and start trying to understand what the cause of Hakeldama was, and what the results were, and what that string of events led to.

And then you might notice Bellamy trying to halt that string of events, whose causes went ALL THE WAY BACK to the first apocalypse and before, and continue ALL THE WAY into the season we haven’t seen yet.

Blood must have blood is NOT a good philosophy. It leads to destruction. Doing it for your people is not a good philosophy. It leads to xenophobia, war, and dehumanization of the other. I bear it so they don’t have to is not a good philosophy. That leads to people refusing responsibility for their own actions. Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two different things is not a good philosophy, because it means you believe the ends justify the means and your current evil actions do not define you. ALL WRONG.

And Bellamy learned that in s3, because of Hakeldama, and he’s been trying to change the world since then. And in season 5 we see him succeed, and set the world on a BETTER path.

So.

You actually need to think deeper, I think. Because what personally bothers you comes from a shallow reading of the essential meaning of this show. It IS about doing the right thing. And it’s about taking responsibility for your monster. And it’s about making sure that humanity deserves to survive, and at this point, only Bellamy has managed to learn that lesson and influence other people to change the world around him.

#the 100 #bellamy blake #is the hero #i mean i go into the narrative political and psychological reasons for bellamy's actions in s3 #and i don't even touch on the literary or symbolic elements which are WHY you tell a story like this #that's like doylian right? as opposed to watsonian? i'd be a terrible academic i can nnever remember which philosopher is which

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roseate7 · 5 years

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Any words of consolation about what’s probably going to happen tonight? It hurts so much and it hasn’t even happened yet. You seem to have good perspective and I could use some.

I’ll answer this one because it’s very sweet and must’ve come in right before I switched anon off.

I can very easily and confidently say to you that this indeed shall pass, because unlike many a swift rout in which a team and fanbase must cast about in bewilderment for what went wrong, the enemy has shown himself and it is within. For all that the superstars were gassed with overwork by the time the playoffs arrived, and for all that the eventual lineup were too bewildered to pull out a cohesive performance by the end, the man responsible for all of this - and I mean all - is Jim Rutherford.

A lot of folks understandably held out on my level of bolshiness toward him this year, but from day one of this playoffs series the truth of the entire season’s mess and muddle and hasty plastering-over had shown itself in rapidly coming undone beneath playoffs pressure. And he’d done the same botched jobs before in Carolina.

I know most folks don’t agree with me on this point especially but the Hags trade set the tone of Rutherford losing the team’s confidence in him entirely. The bulk of the work was done then. His “point was made” but the point was both a misfire and an eventual backfire. But whatever difficulties the Pens had at the start of the season, we only ever got to see them just beginning to repair the longer the team got to bond and gel… only for trigger-happy-trader Jim to come and throw it all into disarray again.

There’s no way of ever knowing which of the trades were truly any better because there was no time the crucial identity to be formed with any of them. He lucked the fuck out with the Florida trade, but what good are two solid players in isolation on a disjointed team they barely know and may not even stay with past the summer? Where is the hunger and fight for them? To lift a Cup with men they’ve known a matter of months? They’re not Black Aces, they’re key players who felt rushed in and did their best which is honestly a waste of talent in the end. Certainly no way to form that team identity. All it did was help keep the Pens on life support.

That’s the theme of Rutherford losing this season: what good are solid players in isolation? Do they make a defense? Do they create goals? Do they give his superstars space to work while leaving the speed up to the younger and lighter, or even just faster…. oh yeah those are all gone. So, no. No they don’t. They add up to a first round sweep and have done ever since the late fall.

It might seem like strange comfort to know that the season was ultimately jeapordized by a man who we can only see the back of if pressure mounts outside and in, but ironically when you look at all of the good that he has wasted in either neglect or over-work, it is reassurance.

Because it’s very good to know that the Pens have a core on the other side of thirty who are hitting and breaking franchise and league records and are still able to overcome major mid-season injury and reignite the team’s playoffs hopes. They’re not the Hawks or the Kings. Their core leave ample cap space in their salaries and more importantly, the problems aren’t scattered all over the locker room and the coaching and the management. It’s down to one man getting into a job using more talented colleagues and then reverting to type once left to his own devices. Hell, even Sully being out-coached wouldn’t have led to a first round exit if the team had formed the kind of identity and drive that it should have. 87/71 can lead a motley crew of a roster to the second round just fine, so long as they can get to know them before March.

And 87/71 being what they are - an isolated and rare organism - and having veteran status, none of the past two seasons will be allowed to remain when they return to Pittsburgh in the fall. They’ve proven how fearless they are in doing what is right for their team and that they’ll run up against any level of front office to fight for glory again. Hell, just look at Geno’s post-games after tonight! He is already planning on the upturn of all they’ve settled into that doesn’t work. I truly do not think Rutherford has the clout, especially after these past two years on his own, to stand up to what those two want. They’ve got the ear of the owners far more than he has. I doubt he’ll be gotten rid of, but his workload could easily become much ‘lighter’ and the purse strings taken out of his hands.

From my hockey perspective, this exit honestly feels like a logical turn in direction for a team who have needed to be wrestled out of the jaws of victory rather than the other way round for most of one dynasty. The years between 2009 and 2016 were such twists and turns, and they’ve all faded into normal and natural lows and suffering that happen to absolutely every club - especially to ones who have had success so frequently. The past two seasons aren’t at all unusual for a much older club whose legs have largely never bounced back from a gruelling back-to-back and an unbroken succession of playoff appearances.

All of Rutherford’s botched work needs to be either undone or removed. I’m sorry folks, I know it’s extremely unlikely and most don’t agree with me but getting Hags back would restore heart and identity to a team that couldn’t bear to have lost it in the first place. But even if not him, then a team assembled and left to actually find itself next season. I’m also not convinced that dropping Horny makes sense, it feels way too much like the overly-reactionary trades of the entire season and yet more loss of identity. Bringing in youth and speed is doable without disintegrating the core even more. We all love Olli but he’s sadly become disposable (I don’t really know why) and I say it’s far wiser to shift a younger player who is already showing signs of slowing than a teammate who brings much needed heart to the locker room.

Anyway, all of this can be done. There is now time, room and with intelligence there can be money. Geno will rest and clear his head and be Russian and Miamian for a while, Sid will go off with trainers like last summer, and they’ll both return of one mind: to never, ever allow their ship to be steered so wildly off course ever again.

So when it comes to the pain, the bitterness, the feeling of desolation and confusion of tonight I really can promise you this will be a kinder loss in the long run. It didn’t drag on, it was against a team who had the jump and the desperation on the Pens, and there were no cruel twists of the knife to age-old wounds. The Isles were better and wanted the win more and they won. It’s clean, if still gutting.

I can say all of this because I was baptised by fire and blood into hockey. I saw Bloody Wednesday and I had seen the previous season’s lead-up to it, all of which is told best by Kris Draper himself. I saw hatred and cold-bloodedness and rage that transcended ‘just hockey’ between the Avs and Wings of those days. I can safely say that no one will ever experience transcendent agony and ecstasy of the like ever again because the sport is now more about... well, the sport, rather than the spectacle.

And as I soon realised, all that gnashing of teeth from the players represented the most pathetic side of a game that was already on it’s way to losing it’s audience precisely for a lack of substance. It all stopped being satisfying when the enforcers were no longer made invisible in their traumatized retirement and the gladiatorial was proven to be ultimately almost as fatal and cruel as the old coliseums. We all got sick of games halting for the latest wild man to do his bit and to have teams hoarding up talent in ways that even refs could tilt the balance in their favor so well. The rivalries are boring younger fans now that testosterone flare-ups no longer run the show, and instead look like weak distractions - or downright dangerous in ways that are no longer considered acceptable - from letting your hockey speak for itself.

And well, as Draper and Nick Lidstrom proved to me many years later when they both went belly-aching that a 21 year-old Sidney Crosby wasn’t prompt enough to shake Lidstrom’s hand after the 2009 final. I will always respect those guys as players, but hoo boy the irony of their childish sore loser attitude in calling Sid immature and unprofessional still looks terrible for two men who won four Cups in their time. Same with the fans and journalists who saw fit to bemoan this perceived slight from Sid due to nothing but sour grapes over the fair loss of yet another trophy to add to their groaning coffers. Especially targeting a kid charged with rescuing his sport and his franchise, who had returned to the Joe after a bitter disappointment the previous season, and at last gained the achievement that had been expected of him since he was between fourteen and sixteen.

For shame on two men I had witness do battle and perform so valiantly, even after some of the glory of their days had begun to tarnish, to gang up on a boy because their days of domination were fading. I still love those first seasons I watched, but I am glad the days are gone of two men knocking forty launching a PR campaign to damage the image of a kid only just realising the dream they had many times repeated themselves before he was even in the draft combine.

Why did I take that trip down memory lane, you could well ask if you’re still even reading this, anon???

Because while players like the 90s Red Wings represent the last of the old dynasties, the post-2004/5 lockout effects on hockey haven’t been felt in full effect really until the Penguins back-to-backs. You know, the team who won using speed and cohesion? The team who set the standard which all other teams were not-so-secretly rushing to copy? That was a core of existing champs who dictated their own identity and who had two leaders with their eyes wisely on the future-present style of hockey.

The Kings and Hawks days of glory had one foot very much in the past. They are both in different stages of trying to work out the puzzle of a league whose playing style has been flipped even more on it’s head in just the past three drafts. Forget McDavid: how does Mitch Marner weigh what he weighs and do what he does and bounce back up every time old-style defense tries to knock him down? How do you get more of those little nuggets of your own to find gaps and evade muscle and create chances? That’s the question the Pens already know they have to get back to answering as they had before.

But Jim Rutherford has fumbled his two years unsupervised, this is resoundingly true, and his old ‘grit and size’ tendencies are coming up against a Pens core who have far more knowledge of what it takes to return their team to being champions because they have seen the sea changes taking place in their franchise from day one.

Ol’ Jim’s can come and go. But Crosby and Malkin are neither petulant veterans who would moon about over their losses and angrily deflect onto the youngsters who beat them, nor are they superstars existing in a bubble and bemoaning the slow decline of their team after each short or non-existent post-season. Neither of them will mind handing over some depth work to speedier youngsters. Neither of them will mind adjusting their roles to accommodate the next generation of Pens, because it’s what they’ve been doing for a good few years now. No clashing of egos or sense of grudge over age and perceived superiority to stop these two from doing whatever it takes to keep the club on the right path.

The Pens will always have a shot at being champions so long as Sid and Geno are on the thrones in Pittsburgh. And the more they come into their age and embrace their sway over a franchise that knows it owes it’s existence to them both (even if fucking nobody else seems to remember that Geno’s throne sits in every way equal to Sid’s) the more chance there is for more Cups.

At the very least, and it’s still a wonderful least, seasons like this one will stand as nothing but a stark but isolated reminder of how close to disaster their ship has ever sailed.

I have absolutely no doubt that they know what to do in the wake of it, and I have no doubt that they would gladly fly in the face of front office if it meant a more harmonious locker room.

They’re two heroes who won’t complain about the young bucks coming in and the league changing around them, and trust me when I say Pens fans should take endless comfort in that, even in the toughest years. And the natural order of things in hockey absolutely dictates that you’ve gotta at least have some of those.

#inbox #lmao sorry for the fucking epic #wow do I talk a lot when it's late #Anonymous

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scripttorture · 6 years

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So, I’m writing a fanfic and in the show, people with powers are forced to join a Mafia. One character talks about helping to torture enemies. Eventually, they stop torturing and do see what they did as wrong (among other crimes they committed before defecting from crime). How might someone differ if they’d been forced to harm others as opposed to starting it on their own? And eventually they see violence as necessary in the Mafia but don’t thrive on it. How would I make this realistic?

I’ll help as much as I can, but I think sometimes source materials canleave fans in a pretty awkward position.

Ifeel like that review of the use of torture in Captain America: The WinterSoldier is relevant here.

By which I mean that sometimes, if we’re choosing to write fanfiction orcreate fanworks, we need to engage with and deal with problematic elements inthe source material. I can cover that in more depth if I know the sourcematerial (it’s worth mentioning a name but also giving details of the situationin case it’s something I haven’t seen).

There are elements of this canon that seem…if not unrealistic then‘dubious’. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that there might not be a wayto make this totally realistic because of the canon you’re working within. Butthat’s really not on you. How you engage with it in your own work is.

I don’t think there’s necessarily one ‘right’ way to approachproblematic canons. As with any writing it depends on the story.

Some people just ignore or rewrite the canon for their story. Somepeople stick to it and change their story around the canon. Some peopletechnically stick to it but twist it as much as possible to support the storythey want to tell.

None of those are ‘bad’ approaches in and of themselves though I thinkthey can be ‘bad’ for particular stories.

The thing that’s standing out for me is the idea of someone being forcedto torture. Because from the details you’ve given……..it sounds like a narrativecop out. It gives me the impression that the creators wanted people tosympathise with this character andhave them do horrible things so they wrote a very lazy abuse narrative where thecharacter doesn’t have moral responsibility because they ‘had to’.

I don’t think attempting a cheap sympathy grab for a torturer is ever a good idea.

No ever has to.

The idea that this character needed to be forced but at the same time didn’t regard tortureas wrong seems especially off kilter to me. It seems to come with theimplication that participating in torture ‘made them’ think it was OK. Andthat’s not how torture works.

You really can’t force someone to change their mind. We can’t be forcedto think that something we find abhorrent is ‘alright’.

People can be pressured but ultimately they make a choice. That choicetells you something about what they value. Some of those choices might be moreunderstandable to society at large: a great many would probably empathise witha character who choose to do something horrible because their own life or thelife of someone they loved was threatened.

Do attacks like that happen? Yesbut they’re usually one off incidents within a larger context of torture, abuseand genocide.

That’s because this is a really badway to have an organisation operate. If you need to threaten or torture yourtorturer every single time you want them to do something you may as well lockthem up and just employ the person you usedto threaten them.

There’s leeway here, though it partly depends on the character andhow…wedded you are to the idea that they’re a good person ‘really’.

The first thing that comes to mind is removing the element of force.This doesn’t necessarily mean the character decided they wanted to torturepeople. They were put in an environment where torture occurred regularly. Theysaw this and they realised that theythought they were less likely to end up as a victim if they became a torturertoo. (In reality this isn’t really the case but that’s another subject-)

The character then managed to escape from that environment- defectingfrom crime. They’re no longer in such a threatening situation and suddenlytheir past actions might be a problem. What previously kept them ‘safe’ nowputs them in danger. So they twist the truth and say they ‘had to’, they wereforced.

It’s not their fault ‘because’ they were afraid too.

You could also probably write it as them making a conscious choice, notout of fear but because they thought joining the torturers would allow them toescape more quickly. That’s a smart and ruthless decision which, if it fits thecharacter, could also easily be tied into them outright lying about their rolein this ‘Mafia’.

Another possibility is using the idea that they were threatened or hurtthemselves before attacking others. That they chose to torture to avoid beingtortured. But I think then you should stress just how useless that would be.The character would be less physically capable of torturing because of theirown injuries. Other character would have to ‘waste time’ doing this repeatedly.It would take a massive toll on the character’s physical and mental health-

I wish I could come up with more scenarios but I feel as if the canonhas hobbled you in that regard.

As for the effects- well this does come back to issue of ‘force’.Because realistically the more likely scenario isn’t ‘forced’ but ‘pressured’.

There’s less scientific study of torturers generally. And torturersaren’t, as a rule, ‘forced’ to do what they do.

If there are differences I don’t have any sources that cover them.

I suspect that there wouldn’t be a lot of differences though. Theunderlying mechanism that we think causes symptoms in torturers would act regardlessof whether the torturer wanted to torture. It would act on someone who wasn’ttorturing but had to stand in the same room while the torturers were there.

We think that torturers areaffected for the same reasons that people who witness traumatic eventssometimes are. Witnessing violence against human beings repeatedly istraumatic. It creates an automatic response in our brains that we can neithercontrol nor reduce. And no amount of belief changes the way we’re wired.

So- perhaps predictably- the effects are going to be exactlythe same ones discussed in the Masterpost here.

And looking at the Masterpost again has actually given me one finalidea.

Memory problems are incredibly common in torture victims. They’re rarelyportrayed in fiction and when they are portrayed they’re not usually used accurately.

Victims often have trouble remembering new information in an everydaycontext (forgetting appointments, keys, tasks at work etc). They sometimes havememory loss surrounding their torture (this is not commonly of the tortureitself but events immediately before and after though forgetting the tortureitself can happen). They often have intrusive memories, very vivid memories ofbeing tortured that are triggered by everyday things causing great distress.

But the last major category of memory problems they experience is false memories.

One of the experiments I’ve read on pain and memory really highlightedthis. They had a ‘high stress’ interrogation group who were asked to identifytheir interrogator the next day. Between 51-68% of them identified the wrongperson (the variation is down to which methods was used to id the interrogator).

They were pointing to the wrong person and completely convinced theywere correct.

In a torture context this effect can cause a lot of problems forprosecutors. Victims are oftenconfused about timings and about who exactly did what. They might also givecontradictory accounts of things like the rooms they were held in or really anydetails surrounding torture.

So my suggestion is this- if this character chose to torture and was thenabused by someone within this organisation it’s perfectly possible that theymight come away believing their abuser ‘forced’ them to do it.

It would be unusual, but this sort of memory problem can operate in thisway.

You could suggest it in your writing by having the character giveinconsistent accounts of what happened to them, or by having what they saycontradicted by other people who were there.

Discovering that they have false memories would be incrediblydistressing and the character might insist that their memories are all accurateand that other people are lying, or that video evidence etc ‘didn’t happen’.

Whichever option you chose to go with (including just accepting thecanon, which is not particularly realistic but is a valid choice for fan fiction) the character would havesymptoms associated with being a torturer.

Pick somewhere between 3-5 from the Masterpost and try to show themconsistently throughout the story. The character would probably learn to copewith and navigate their symptoms over time but that’s not the same thing as thesymptoms vanishing.

For a fanfic I’d look to the canon to see if there’s any suggestion ofparticular trauma symptoms, however poorly handled. For instance if I waswriting a Marvel fanfic I’d probably choose to give Tony Stark addictionproblems because multiple canons have him struggling with alcoholism. If I waswriting Voltron I might choose to give Keith mood swings and show Shirodissociating, because again that seems to fit what the canon shows of thecharacter’s reactions.

Beyond that my advice is the same as for any other fiction: choosesymptoms that you feel add something to the story or character. Things thatfurther the narrative and provide interesting challenges.

I hope that helps. And if you’d like to discuss this story in moredetail feel free to send in more questions when the ask box reopens. :)

Disclaimer

#tw torture #torturers #effect of torture on torturers #torture apologia #fanfiction #problematic canons #pain and memory #memory #Anonymous

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