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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 years

Note

I'm an American reading your Boris Johnson posts which I think are so interesting and hilarious. I don't know a lot about UK politics and was wondering if you wouldn't mind doing a quick rundown of the Torys and labour parties (mostly bc I want to read your version) but if you don't have the time or inclination I will do my own research! Thank you!

Sure! Okay this is SUPER BRIEF, like I cannot stress enough how brief this is but:

Labour

The red ones. So Labour began in the early 1900s at the point when a lot of workers rights and voting reforms and all that stuff was gathering steam as we moved out of the Industrial Revolution. It was basically a bunch of socialists, trade unionists and others. Then after the last Liberal government in 1923 which was a bit of a disaster, they took over as the main alternative party to the Tories, and have held that position ever since.

Their most notable era was after WW2, where they created a metric fuckton of nationalised infrastructure - the NHS, rail, water, national parks and countryside access rights, etc. At that point there were two generations massively scarred and traumatised by war who had fought for the country, and now wanted the country to take care of them in return. That was the prevailing attitude of the working class of the day, and Labour (PM was Clement Atlee, but the NHS was the brainchild of Welsh boy Aneirin Bevan, he's a good boy is our Nye) cashed in.

Second most notable era, though, was the late 90s - Tony Blair. Our Tony was of Tory stock but changed his mind because he loves Poors. He decided that, to get a Labour government again, the party needed to be more moderate to convince voters, so he should create the more right-leaning New Labour. This has dramatically shrunk the Overton window and moved Labour to the centre-right. It worked - he was the one who took us to war in Iraq, supposedly for those pesky WMD that never seemed to materialise, but like, a few years ago he went on a bland daytime TV chat show and Fern Britton asked him if he'd have done it anyway even without the rumour of WMDs and he said yes. So, uh. There's that. It was all very dramatic, and journalists started demanding to know how this TV presenter had wrung such a confession out of him, and she was like "Well... I don't think anyone had actually asked him before." He’s a full on war criminal, anyway.

And then, recently, we had Jeremy Corbyn in charge. He was remarkable because he's actually a left-of-centre politician, though fairly unremarkable by those standards, but the Overton window is such that everyone promptly accused him of being a communist for saying we should have free internet. In the 2019 General Election he produced a fully-costed manifesto for new public services, and the Tories just said the words "We don't have a magic money tree to pay for all of this, guys, look at our manifesto in which we promise stuff without explaining where the money will come from," and that actually worked because British people are criminally fucking stupid. Meanwhile the Labour party itself hated Corbyn so much it kept trying to ban new members who wanted to vote for him in a really quite dazzling display of corruption. The BBC let a Tory donor publicly announce that Corbyn was an antisemite because he was pro-Palestine, and then that fell into hysteria and became a whole thing on all sides, and then after the General Election he stood down as party leader and Labour promptly kicked him out of the whole party. The whole thing was honestly an absolute fucking shitshow.

Now we have Keir Starmer, ex-lawyer. Sometimes he does okay, but mostly he has all the oppositional abilities of an ice cream wafer.

The Tories

The blue ones. So the Tories are older than Labour by a considerable margin. The original party to have the name (it's Irish and means "outlaw/robber") were a bunch of tedious royalist dickhead Jacobites who wanted to stick with the system of Let The King Rule in the late 1600s, at the point when Let The King Just Be a Figurehead was now the system. In the 1800s they became the Conservatives and Unionists, and then the modern Conservatives around WW1, but oddly and appropriately the Tory nickname has still stuck.

Anyway they are very right-wing, and really rose to power during both world wars. Churchill was a Tory, and he did such wonderful things as sending in the British army against striking Welsh coal miners, and intentionally causing a famine in India during WW2 so the supplies would come to Britain instead. Classy lads. In the 70s/80s Margaret Thatcher took over, and spent her time aggressively undoing all the socialist stuff that Labour did by privatising water, rail, etc, and beginning the sell-off of the NHS. She also decided she hated British working class industry, including the coal mines, and so shut them all down without remotely trying to replace them. This has done untold damage to the working class and poor areas of the UK, chief among them Wales, where two thirds of the working population worked in the mines. We now have areas where unemployment is in the fourth generation, and entire ghost towns in the countryside. Plus, she was BFFs with Reagan, which should tell you all you need to know about the rest of her tenure.

In the modern day, they took over just after the recession under David Cameron, who promptly instigated austerity measures that have dramatically widened the gap between rich and poor and crippled the economy. David Cameron was also revealed to have fucked a pig once while in uni. He held the Brexit referendum to try and convince people to keep him in charge because he thought we’d vote remain, and then when we didn’t, he promptly quit so he wouldn’t be held accountable for the fall out. Theresa May took over and tried to produce a Brexit deal, but couldn’t, because it was literally impossible to get the deal that Brexiteers had promised, so no one liked her offerings. She was voted out via vote of no confidence. Boris Johnson took over and legit tried to force through a No Deal Brexit, which would have destroyed the country but made him a billionaire, and he even tried to shut down Parliament to stop people from blocking him. Fortunately, that was considered illegal, so he had to back down and get a deal.

And he did! It’s way worse than Tessie May’s, but it was, by then, the best option available. Now Brexiteers think he’s a hero who can do no wrong.

And then the pandemic happened, in which he mis-managed it so badly Britain has the second worst death/infection rate in the world, and then... Partygate. And we’re caught up!

Others:

The Liberal Democrats. The yellow ones. The third choice. In theory socially left-wing, financially right-wing, but in practice they’ve been a bunch of tedious power-grabbing turds. Under the leadership of Nick Clegg they entered into a coalition with the Tories and David Cameron a few years back and basically sold out every principle they had, and therefore kind of... provided a buffer against the worst Tory excesses while also enabling other worst Tory excesses, to be honest. No one trusts them anymore, but they are suddenly stealing Tory seats in by-elections throughout the land, because hardcore Tory voters would never go Labour but they MIGHT vote yellow.

Greens. About the only true left wing party available in England specifically, because an English nationalist party (right-wing) is a very different thing to a Celtic nationalist party (left-wing). They have a single MP, I believe, but in areas with a strong following they do have good sway. Primarily environmental, very socialist.

UKIP. Nazis. Only cared about Brexit. Then Brexit happened and it turned out they didn’t actually have a plan for it. They have since lost all their voters, pretty much, it’s very funny. Their leader has never actually managed to get elected to MP.

SNP. The Scottish National Party, and I believe the ruling party in Scotland. They seem tidy enough. Generally left-wing, though not so much about the military, weirdly. Led by Nicola Sturgeon overall (who seems pretty cool, although with the usual politician caveats and also the addendum that I know little about Scottish politics in detail), but their leader in Westminster is Ian Blackford, who has been yelling at Boris Johnson about parties a lot.

Plaid Cymru. The Welsh nationalists! Easily the most left-wing party in Wales - only the Greens really give them any trouble there, and Plaid are actually a little further left. Very socially progressive. They have a fair bit of influence in the Senedd (Welsh Parliament) but are not actually the ruling party. Used to be led by Leanne Woods, who is fab, and was the only person before the last election to tell Nigel Farage on TV that he should be ashamed of himself during a leaders’ debate. Now led by Adam Price, the Westminster leader is Liz Saville Roberts.

DUP. Democratic Unionist Party. A Northern Irish party which, as the name suggests, is pro-Britain and pro-union, very socially conservative. I will not go further into detail here because we really aren’t far from the Troubles (I’m old enough to have grown up with car bombings being a not-uncommon news item) and it’s very, very complicated and I am not Northern Irish, so I’ll leave it there. Currently led by Jeffrey Donaldson.

Sinn Féin. Irish Republican and democratic socialist party, in both Ireland and Northern Ireland, and the opposite number of the DUP; and again, I will leave it there, as I am very much the wrong person to go into those details. In fact they only had one seat fewer than the DUP in the 2017 election, so it’s hotly contested. Generally left leaning I believe, but with some big exceptions like the topic of abortion. Led by Mary Lou McDonald.

There are also a shit ton of others, like, but those are probably the main ones to be honest. But, like America, it’s really a two-horse race in Westminster.

(I should also add that the Celtic nations are all partially devolved to a greater or lesser extent, which adds quite a bit of complexity.)

#politik

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hood-ex · 4 years

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I feel like I can trust you with Dick's characterization, unlike every dc writer; how do you think he'd react to what the fam did to Damian? And how'd he react to what Damian did? (it's the most terrible character assassination, but it still happened unfortunately)

The interesting thing about Dick’s situation is that he was there when Damian blamed himself for Alfred’s death (for people who don’t know, Dick had amnesia at this point). He knows how Bruce did nothing to actively comfort Damian or to offer him reassurance. Babs was the only one who stood up for Damian and told Bruce to go after Damian. Bruce, of course, didn’t.

This is such a huge contrast to how Dick reacted when Damian blamed himself for the whole Selina and Talia situation. (Yes, I’m aware that the two situations are wildly different from one another.) But instead of allowing Damian to stew in guilt, Dick comforted Damian and asked how he could help him. Then, instead of letting Damian go off to Khadym by himself, Dick went with him. Something that Damian was extremely grateful for.

Because of this (as well as other times where Dick is the one who’s there for Damian), I think that if Dick had been his usual self during all this, he definitely would have done something similar to Babs and given Bruce a verbal lashing for not going after Damian. I also think it would have been in character for Dick to go after Damian to talk to him about his feelings (or to say something comforting to keep Damian from leaving in the first place).

We’ve seen before that Dick and Bruce’s methods of dealing with Damian are different. When Damian disobeyed Bruce, Bruce easily gave up on the idea of working with Damian, and he told Damian to keep working with Dick instead.

On the flip side, when Damian disobeyed Dick, Dick quickly realized that Bruce’s method of “demanding” Damian to do as he was told wasn’t going to cut it. He tried a new approach instead. He pointed out what Damian failed to do, but he also praised Damian for what he did right.

Dick turned a negative into a positive. He also reinforced the idea that he would be there for Damian because they were partners. This was something Damian realized when Dick saved his life while dealing with Professor Pyg.

It was basically Dick’s silent way of saying, “Hey, you’re not getting rid of me, and I’m not getting rid of you. We’re in this together. I’m here for you.”

Bruce’s message to Damian was the exact opposite. It wasn’t, “Hey, I’m still going to be here for you even when you mess up.” Bruce’s message was to essentially say, “You’re too difficult to work with. I don’t want to try and make it work.”

Dick, knowing exactly how infuriating Damian could be, and knowing how hard it was to work with Damian, ended up defending Damian in that moment.

Dick knew Damian’s struggles. He knew Damian was insecure about the idea of Bruce taking Robin away from him. Damian had told him about it, and while Dick had tried to brush it off as a joke at first, he quickly became serious and tried to understand what was bothering Damian when he realized how upset Damian was.

That was such a key difference between Dick and Bruce’s interactions with Damian. Dick was not only Damian’s mentor, he was also his confidant. Dick was there to reassure Damian in ways that Bruce wasn’t. He was there to say, “I can tell you’re upset. What’s wrong? I want to help you with it.”

Generally, Bruce’s approach at comfort is not to really ask what’s wrong. It’s not talking about feelings. He’s more of an “actions speak louder than words” kind of person. That’s why he wasn’t able to resolve his issue with Damian earlier. He couldn’t make himself open up in the same way Dick could.

With a change in morals, the absence of Bruce, the loss of Dick, and the death of Alfred, too much had changed by the time Bruce finally tried to talk about things with Damian. Damian felt abandoned by Bruce at that point. He felt like Bruce didn’t care about him as either a partner or son. He no longer had Alfred to care about him, and he had a brother who didn’t even remember he existed. Bane and KGBeast took away the love and support in Damian’s life, and Bruce’s late attempt to try and fill those holes was rejected.

That being said, I think Dick would be upset to know how Bruce had been absent in Damian’s life for months on end. He’d sympathize with Damian because he knows what it’s like to be shut out by Bruce. I think he would also feel guilty about this as well. Guilty for the path Damian went down, guilty for not being there, guilty for letting Damian go back to live with Bruce in the first place.

It reminds me of how he felt guilty over Jason’s death. He felt responsible in some way because he gave Jason his Robin costume. I think he would feel similar in regard to the situation with Damian. Not so much guilty because of the fact that he gave Damian the Robin costume, but more so because Damian was on the right track when he was Dick’s responsibility. Dick was always there to lead Damian by example and was there to praise him for doing good.

He was even part of Damian’s subconscious and acted like the morally good “angel” on Damian’s shoulder, which showed that Damian kept Dick’s teachings in mind. So, y’know, Dick’s influence went deep.

Now would Dick be upset by the path Damian has taken? Yeah. Damian had his own prison, wiped villains minds, killed Brother Blood, and he intended to kill KGBeast for shooting Dick in the head.

Back when Dick and Damian were partners, I think Dick wouldn’t have been totally surprised if Damian had ended up killing someone. He once expressed his fear of needing to get to Damian ASAP because he was worried Damian would kill the Joker. I think he also expressed a bit of surprise that Damian restrained himself from killing people at times. That might factor into how he would react in the present knowing what Damian has done.

In the past, Dick had to deal with a lot of inner turmoil when he was dating Kory because he was worried she was “reverting” to murdering people like she used to before she lived on Earth. He made it extremely clear that he wasn’t okay with that. (For the record, Dick was being mind controlled at that time, so his reaction to that situation may not be an accurate indicator of his character.)

Dick also had to decide what he was going to do with Jason when Jason was killing people. Dick offered to help him reform on two separate occasions.

He tried to put aside the terrible things Jason had done because he not only believed that Jason was worth saving, but that he was also capable of change.

I think this is the same approach Dick would take with Damian. He would want to help Damian reform. He would want Damian to choose to be good. He did it before, and yeah, it was hard. But he helped show Damian that he didn’t have to be the killer the League of Assassins raised him to be. That he could choose to be better than the villains and murderers he was surrounded by.

Whether we’ll get to see Damian feel remorse for what he’s done or, at least, stop what he’s doing so he can be accepted by his family... I have no idea. Before DC shot his character development straight to hell, he wanted to be a good person. We’ll just have to see if Dick, Bruce, or some outside force has any impact on his future morals.

#Dick Grayson #Damian Wayne #Bruce Wayne #meta #anon

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ficforce · 3 years

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Asakusa Crush Part 2

Shinmon Benimaru x Reader SFW / NSFW No set timeline New relationship

Y/N had to hide a giggle behind her hand as she brought more sake over to the table, she had heard that Benimaru had been lured into drinking tonight and was pleased it was in her grandfather’s bar. A few people from the market, a couple of Company 7 and Benimaru sat around the table, a serious game of Cho-Han going on with a large wager. She knelt down at a space on the table and collected up the empty bottles before putting out full ones, she looked at Benimaru’s face again and held in her laughter - he was smiling so cutely. Apparently, it was something that happened when he drank, it was something he had no control of and it changed his usually sullen face completely.

“He’ll get grumpy if you laugh at him, Y/N,” she hadn’t realised that Konro was to her left, he was drinking quietly in comparison to the others, seemingly there to watch people lose their money rather than his own.

“It’s not like he can do anything but smile right now.” Y/N liked the Lieutenant, she had heard he used to be a real terror in his teenage years but had mellowed out to become a protector of Asakusa, even risking his life for it. She swapped out his usual Sake for a premium bottle and put her finger to her lips with a mischievous grin, “Snitches get stitches.”

With that, she went about serving the other tables and cleaning up between, it was nice when it was busy but she was going to be so tired in the morning when she had to get up for restocking. It had to be done in the morning and she had foolishly offered thinking it would be an afternoon job. A loud cheer from the corner made her look back to Benimaru’s table, the man was losing and all he could do was grin about it. “If only you were that cute all the time…” Every time they crossed paths it ended in a challenge, people said they were flirting and Benimaru would get quiet and stalk off. She just liked to pick on him, there was nothing like winding a man up to see what they were really like. He kept his cool most of the time but he wasn’t going to back down and surrender for a second.

Only the strongest could run Asakusa and he wasn’t about to let her knock him down a peg or two in public.

Benimaru wasn’t completely oblivious to Y/N serving, between games and drinking he kept an eye on her, she was a pretty good hostess. No one was left waiting too long, she kept the other servers in check and was doing a pretty good job at avoiding drunken, wandering hands. He was struck again by how at home she was despite being an Empire girl. The twins had given him their low down of her - despite him saying he didn’t care - they said she made tasty food, that she wasn’t a follower of the Sun God and that she thought that the Empire couldn’t care less about people they couldn’t profit from. The girls kept going on about her ignition ability being cool and that she hated mornings.

Every time he saw her before noon she would look completely different from the tidy, cheerful woman with an attitude. She walked around like an old school Yakuza brat. Y/N would leave her hair loose, she would wear a flowery yukata that was thrown on and too open at the front, she seemed to always be wrapped in bandages from her chest to at least her waist - the yukata was always done up properly from the belt down. Y/N walked around like a zombie and was pretty moody if she was still sleepy. He kind of liked that.

At closing time she politely but very firmly kicked everyone out, Benimaru felt like refusing just to see what would happen but Konro practically dragged him out before he could do more than just think about it. He did hear that she had to be up early in the morning and his grin was a little too big at that.

—

“Waka, you’re up early.” Benimaru nodded and pulled on his boots as his Lieutenant gave him an exasperated stare, “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Konro gave him a jab in the side with his foot, “Some people buy a woman flowers or invite her to festivals - not try and start a brawl with her.” It was like dealing with kids, they were both eager to punch the other rather than just hold hands as a normal person would. “It’s obvious you like her, why you gotta be such a brat, Waka?”

“I can’t have some outsider challenging me the way she does.” He wanted to know how strong she was, he didn’t want to like someone who was all bark and he wanted someone who could look after themselves if things went to shit with the White Clads. “I won’t hurt her too bad.”

He figured she’d be on the edge of town to make a restock order, it was easier to tell one of the guys what was needed and have them deliver later. Sure enough, he spotted her sleep-deprived face through the crowd of vendors and stockists. Somehow, Benimaru still found her pretty that way, he remembered how she punched that guy’s lights out with no effort what so ever and even then she was still sweet to Hinata and Hikage. He watched her turn around and begin walking toward him, unaware that he was in her way until she was right in front of him. Y/N’s eyes travelled up from his collar bone to his face and she sighed, her hand coming up to rub at her eye, “I’m too tired for this, what do you want?”

“Fight me.” She snorted at him and laughed, moving to pass him and get back home for a quick nap. Benimaru reached out and caught her upper arm, “I’m serious. You keep pulling my hair and I’m gonna react.”

It was a metaphor she was tempted to act on, yanking his hair and punching him in the face was looking rather appetising.

“I’m not challenging your authority or whatever, I’m just asking you to have some damn manners, you bump into someone you should just apologise. Why are you always so fired up when you see me? Just go cool your head and get out of the way!” Y/N didn’t care who he was or how strong he was - she deserved some respect too. She watched him cross his arms and then he had the audacity to smirk at her, Y/N’s eyes lit up and she acted without thinking. Her fist flew forward and Benimaru caught it easily, already prepared for her counter but not her foot connecting to the side of his calf.

Why did she have to like this conceited man child?

Why did her heart flutter in her chest and he body heat up whenever she saw him?

Love, at first sight, was a gross cliche and she refused to be a victim of it. She liked Benimaru but she wasn’t going to swoon at his feet like every other girl in Asakusa.

People got out of the way as they got physical, Benimaru taking advantage of her lack of basic fighting to push her toward the centre of the street. He had to admit her defence was good, he Aikido helping her just keep up with him and give her openings to hit him square in the ribs and then get a little distance between them. The man pushed off his sleeve and took up his stance again, watching her carefully in an attempt to figure out her next move - she really was just trying not to get hit and it made her unpredictable. If she found a decent teacher he figured Y/N could be a pretty good fighter.

Y/N watched him too and she realised that his style usually involved a sword or two, Iaido. She searched her memory for whether she had ever seen him with a weapon and came up blank. He had seen her moment of lost concentration and advance with an elegant swipe of his arm, his index and middle finger concentrating his flames into something similar to a sword.

So that was his style… She was so fucked.

Though that wasn’t going to get her to back down.

He sliced through her sleeve and Y/N took the chance to counter with fire. Benimaru didn’t know where the explosive little fireball had come from, he thought maybe from her sleeve, but he staggered back as it blew up in his face. The ball reformed itself and he just managed to bat it away and into a nearby wall. He waited for another, watching Y/N get ready for her next move, her hands coming up as if to form a new attack and when he took a defensive stance she took the opportunity to run in the opposite directing and into an alley. “What the… Oi!” Benimaru gave chase immediately.

He ignited baskets and debris around him and launched them into the alley after her, there was a plume of orange and red as they struck something and then it was quiet. Benimaru frowned and walked toward the mouth of the alleyway, concerned that he might have gone too far and hurt her, she was a fire user, right? That meant she had some defence against the flames and he hadn’t made his particularly hot this time. The hair on the back of his neck prickled and stood up all of a sudden, his senses told him something was coming and as he stood between the two houses he was startled backwards by what he had first thought to be a fireball. It flew past him, elongated and as he looked he could almost think that the yellows, reds and oranges looked like scales.

Benimaru flipped back onto his feet, barely dodging as the head of the fire aimed at him, “That’s…” Red eyes widened as he saw the full effect of her ability, twenty feet of serpentine-like flames rose above him, Y/N came out of the alley, her yukata singed and smoking as she moved her hands. Each subtle movement formed the flames into a stronger shape until it resembled a serpentine dragon. It dived down at him and he avoided the hottest part, it was like it wanted to swallow him whole, it’s mouth was blue and he figured it was best to keep away from that. He felt his heart hammering against his chest and it was more than the excitement of a good fight, she was sloppy and untrained and her ignition was visually impressive and right now she was angry at him and looked like she would happily let the dragon devour him.

The tail of her attack took out a stall to the side, her control wasn’t as tight as it could be and he saw potential ways to fix it. The Captain ignited a ring of flame and in three quick steps, he extinguished her attack, standing ready for another. “You’ll have to do better than that, send a bigger one!”

Y/N glared at him and waited for him to set something else on fire.

They both stood ready, seconds and then minutes passing by until he figured it out and relaxed his body, “You can’t make your own flames. Second generation, huh?” He pulled his sleeve back onto his arm and gave a satisfied nod to himself, “You’re pretty good, Y/N.”

“That’s it?” She yelled after him angrily, “You…” Was he teasing her? Was he just going to go about his day like nothing had happened?

“That’s it,” Benimaru raised his hand and waved as he headed back toward the guardhouse.

—

Konro swept the entrance of the guardhouse quietly, Benimaru had headed for his room for a nap as soon as he had gotten in half an hour ago and the twins had run off to terrorise some of the new recruits. He looked up as Y/N stepped into the guardhouse, “Hey Lieutenant Konro, can I borrow that candle?”

“Y/N?” He looked her up and down, she was panting as if she had been running and her clothing had burns on it, “Uh…Sure.” He picked the candle up and she stole the flame from it, making it grow into the size of a tennis ball and then walked past calling for Benimaru.

Benimaru opened the shoji door with an annoyed grumble at being disturbed, the words were barely out of his mouth before she launched the fireball at his face and shoved him back inside.

The Lieutenant snorted to himself and shook his head - Maybe he should go out after all.

#shinmon benimaru #reader #fire force #enen no shouboutai

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mowulf · 3 years

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You Gotta be Kitten Me

CH 2: It's only a flesh wound

A note on cat breeds, because I don’t feel like spending an absurd amount of time describing them. (Also only Spy would have any idea what the different breeds are because he’s fancy like that.) From largest to smallest:

Heavy - Blue maine coon. He’s the largest by weight and length and has the cat equivalent of resting bitch face.

Sniper - Savannah cat. He’s the tallest, but he’s lanky and not nearly as long as Heavy.

Demoman - You know those cats that are so black they’re basically walking black holes? Yeah, that’s him.

Spy - Tuxedo cat. Primarily black with white fingers, white chin, and a white triangle on this neck and chest. When he sits up straight he does, indeed, look like he’s wearing a tiny, furry suit.

Soldier - Siamese. He’s loud. He’s obnoxious. And he makes sure you know he’s there.

Scout - Egyptian Mau/DSH mix. Egyptian Maus are the fastest domestic cat breed, reaching up to 30 mph, and can leap absurdly high. While he’s got the build of a Mau, the DSH shows in his calico coat.

Pyro - Ruddy Abyssinian. They look vaguely burnt and, like Scout, are quite small. Yes, they wear a sock on their head. No, you won't be able to convince them to take it off.

-----

“Gentlemen, we have a situation,” Spy said as he looked around the room. The other cats stopped what they were doing and approached. No point delaying the conversation.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Scout said as he trotted over to shove Spy. “How come y’all get ta be so much bigger ‘n’ me? ‘S not fair.”

“That is beside the point, Scout.”

“That is exactly the point!”

”Scout.” Spy planted a paw on Scout’s head and pushed him away. Sniper got the hint and gently but firmly shooed Scout to the opposite side of the forming circle.

Demoman took a seat next to the awkward pair while Sniper attempted to figure out a way to gently pin Scout without accidentally crushing him and casually curled his tail around his paws. “It’s not all that bad,” he said casually. “We’re smaller, so we’ll be harder to hit. Pro’ly faster, too.”

Spy folded his ears and sighed deeply. “Really? Really? That’s what we’re going with? ‘It’s not so bad.’ Are you listening to yourself?”

Sniper flicked his tail and snapped, “Yeah, mate, we heard him just fine. What’s your problem?”

“My problem is a distinct lack of thumbs. Or did you forget?” The group fell silent as everyone examined their hands. Once he was satisfied that enough time had passed, Spy continued, “We didn’t just lose a few inches. Sniper is, at best, as long as his rifle, I can’t even hold a knife let alone stab anyone, and I’m reasonably certain the intelligence is twice Scout’s size.” He straightened up and settled a glare around the group. “We’re useless at best. Hell, Medic and Engineer would likely have an easier time in the next mission if we all just stayed at base. Especially if they have Heavy.”

A heavy silence descended on the circle. After a few moments Soldier stood up and yelled, “That’s still no excuse to not fight! We have claws! We have teeth! We’ll just have to fight them the old fashioned way!” His tail lashed as he spoke and at the end he reared back and swiped at the air.

Sniper was quick to shut that down by yelling, “That’s assuming we can even get close to anyone!” He puffed up and growled, high and deep. “We’re too small. We might catch someone off guard the first time, but then everyone will know to look out for us. Alone we stand no chance. As a group, we’re too obvious!”

“‘Sides, we need to get their intelligence back to base. Mission doesn’t end until someone has someone else’s briefcase,” Scout snapped, ready to jump up only to be pressed back into the floor when Sniper stepped on him.

“Those are the words of a coward! There are no cowards here! Or do I need to remind you maggots of that?” Soldier took a step forward, legs stiff and tail lashing in anger.

Sniper lowered his head and curled his lips in a snarl. “If you think I’m going to just throw myself into enemy fire with no hope of walking away, you’re a fool.” Scout squeaked as Sniper stepped on him to approach Soldier. Scout wanted nothing to do with the fight that was about to break out. While Sniper had the upper hand in terms of size, Soldier more than made up for that in crazy.

On the sidelines, the other mercs chimed in trying to break up the fight before it began, but no one was willing to actually get close. Even human, Soldier was not a force to be reckoned with. Once Sniper was no longer standing on him, Scout joined the rest in the safe zone.

Sniper and Soldier approached each other stiffly until there was only a few inches between them. Soldier’s tail continued to lash dramatically while Sniper’s only twitched at the end. For a long minute the pair simply glared and growled.

Soldier made the first move. Sniper flinched back when Soldier lunged forward, allowing the smaller cat to latch onto his neck and shoulder, back legs tearing at whatever they could reach. Sniper shrieked, swatted a couple times at Soldier, before running toward the nearest wall and throwing himself Soldier-first into it. Yelling broke out from everywhere, a combination of cat howls and human shock.

The impact didn’t knock Soldier loose and only seemed to make him more aggressive. The cat twisted and sank his claws deeper into Sniper’s shoulder while pulling with his teeth until he felt something give. Sniper responded by slamming into the wall three more times in quick succession, finally stunning Soldier enough to make him start to lose grip. That was all Sniper needed to finally stick his foot under Soldier and rip the other cat off.

He stumbled back a couple steps before lunging forward with a yell, only to be slammed into the ground by Medic. One hand grabbed the scruff of his neck and the other a fistful of loose skin near his rump and hauled him back, spitting and screaming. Engineer scooped Soldier before he could launch back at Sniper.

The two spit curses and profanities at each other until Demoman leapt between them and bellowed “SHUT UP!” Silence. “Soldier,” he turned to face, “this is not cowardice or abandonment. Think of it as a tactical retreat until we can figure out how to get the upper hand back.”

“That’s true,” Spy said. “We’re at a disadvantage. We need to figure something out.”

“But-” Soldier flinched when Demoman trotted up and bopped him on the nose. “We can’t-” Another bop. “Would you-” Bopbopbop Demoman stopped and hopped away when Engineer waved him off.

Once he was sure that Soldier had shut up, he turned his attention to Sniper. “And you!” Sniper bristled but remained silent. “If yer gonna fight, take it outside. You know th’ rules.”

More silence. Everyone waited tensely until Sniper finally sighed and Soldier relaxed. A collective sigh was released and the tension finally drained from the room.

“I’m going to need the medigun,” Medic announced. “I’ll be right back.” With that he released Sniper and left the room.

Soldier wriggled out of Engineer’s grip and the man made another grab for him but stopped when he saw the cats regather into the circle. Scout made a couple laps of the malformed circle, chirping in distress until Sniper finally dragged himself into their original spot, at which point he tucked himself firmly into the larger cat’s side. He made a few more distressed chirps as he eyed the mauled fur and flesh but was silenced when Sniper lay a paw across his back.

“Establishing communication should be our top priority,” Spy said once the circle had been properly reformed. “We can’t do much if Medic and Engineer can’t understand us.”

The other cats nodded and made various sounds of agreement only to fall silent when a deep voice rumbled, “Da.” Everyone turned to see an absolutely massive maine coon staring down at them. Even Pyro did a double take before scooting to the side to make space. There was a moment of reshuffling before Heavy finally took a spot and lay down, careful to tuck his lugs beneath him. “Doktor is dangerous. Keep distance and avoid his room.” He paused for a second, then added, “Avoid medbay, too. Anywhere he keeps birds.”

The circle gave another chorus of agreement. If Heavy was giving the warning, then extra caution needed to be used. Right as Spy was about to resume the conversation, Medic reentered, paused, and said, “Heavy?” Heavy looked up, flicked his tail, and then pointedly looked away. Sniper looked between the two before deciding they needed space. “I’ll be back,” he muttered before pushing himself to his feet and limping over to Medic.

Spy coughed to draw everyone’s attention. “As I said before, we’ll need to establish some form of communication. Does anyone have any suggestions?”

“What about morse code?” Soldier asked.

Spy hummed. “Not a bad idea, assuming either of them know any. I know a little, but not nearly enough.”

“Do you know enough to get food?” Scout whined, stretching and rolling onto his back dramatically. “I’m dyin’ over here!”

“Scout-”

“No! Shut up!” He hopped onto his feet and puffed. “I didn’t eat supper on account of I wasn’t feelin’ good, and we ain’t had breakfast. I can smell bacon an’ I’m starving!”

“Mmph! Mr hnng trr,” Pyro chirped, also jumping up and circling in place. Spy smacked his face and groaned, knowing that there was no hope of getting the impromptu meeting back on track. Not with Scout and Pryo now feeding each other’s energy. Best to get them both fed before they worked each other into a frenzy.

“What’d I miss?” Sniper asked as he returned to the circle.

“Somethin’ somethin’ marsh code an’ Spy’s gonna get us food,” Scout announced before anyone else could speak. Pyro hopped over, muffled chattering displaying their excitement over the prospect of finally getting to eat something. The rest of the mercs were eagerly discussing breakfast as Demoman took the lead toward the cafeteria.

Medic and Engineer watched as the cats all began filing out of the room. As Heavy passed, Medic leaned down to try and grab Heavy, only to jerk back when the cat whipped around and snapped at him. Heavy gave an angry huffed before ambling after the rest.

“Well,” Engineer said slowly, “That was… interesting.” He stood up from his spot on the floor and stretched. “What do you recon they’re up to now?”

Medic ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and hefted the end of the medigun off the floor where he’d set it after treating Sniper. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Keep an eye on them. I’m going to call Miss Pauling.”

“Good luck with that.”

Engineer trailed after the small army of cats while Medic heaved another sigh and made his way back to the medical bay. The medigun was easily put away and he took a moment to pet Archimedes before he left in search of the base phone. If he was lucky, Pauling would be free enough to swing by the base. She could wrangle everyone under control and figure out what to do next. Or at least give him some pointers on how to take care of cats. Then he’d have to run to town and get cat food.

Fun.

#tf2 #Team Fortress 2 #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 demoman #tf2 pyro #tf2 sniper #tf2 soldier #Hdfjksdjkl why are there so many characters to keep track of #I can barely handle 3 #let alone 9 #absolute chaos

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archiesoniconline · 3 years

Text

QnA: Zone Cop Briefing

Zally: Hello there everyone. I’m Zally, Head of Communications for the Zone Cops. Joining me today is our top officer Zonic...

Zonic: Hi there! Zally: And his protege, Zails. Zails: Uh, hello. That’s a lot of people w-we’re talking too. Zally: The staff at Archie Sonic Online have received a lot of questions about Zones, Zone Travel, Time Travel, and several covering some combinations of these topics. And so, they have asked us to give this briefing, to hopefully explain some of the basics about Zones and Time Travel, and with luck we’ll answer your questions as we do so. Just before we begin however, it’s important to say that, while what we will say today is the case for… hmm…. At least 9 out of 10 situations, there are several exceptions. Zonic: Not to mention Nega and that Genesis Wave messing everything up… Zally: Ahem! Going into all of them would take far too much time, so we’ll just say for now that ‘exceptions to these rules do exist’ and start the briefing. To begin, most Zones fall into two distinct types. There are the True Zones, such as say the Prime Zone and the Sol Zone, complete universes in themselves. Then there are the Pocket Zones, which have limited internal dimensions, can often be found within a True Zone, and can also be disrupted by tremendous emissions of energy. The Special Zone, formally the Zone of Silence, was one such Zone, as was the Pocket Zone destroyed when Super Sonic and Hyper Knuckles from the Prime Zone fought. There are multiple ways that Pocket Zones can be created, natural and artificial. But for True Zones, they are only created when a Triggering Event occurs in the Prime Zone. Other Zones cannot split to form new Zones. It might help to think of the Multiverse almost like a tree, with the Prime Zone as the trunk, and other Zones the branches growing from it. Triggering Events have a few requirements. There has to be a number of likely possible outcomes. And the different outcomes must have fundamentally different effects on the future of the Prime Zone. For example, Prime Sonic choosing how many chilli-dogs to eat might have several different likely outcomes, but none would result in any fundamental change, so it would not be a Triggering Event. In the opposite way, Prime Robotnik debating whether to use the Robotizer certainly had a massive effect on the events in the Prime Zone, but the chances of him choosing to not use the device were so slim, no new Zone was created. A Triggering Event need not be a single decision made by one person. It could be several smaller decisions made by a group of people that nevertheless results in a different outcome. It could even be the results of a natural occurrence. When life was reforming after the Gene Bomb in the Prime Zone, there were so many different directions it could take, that this is where the vast majority of Zones were created. Numerous Zones were also created when the Prime Zone first formed, some with wildly different laws of physics. When a new Zone is created, it is completely duplicated. The entire timeline is copied, not just from the Triggering Event. Though on that subject, the passage of time can be different between Zones. Time runs faster in some Zones compared to the Prime Zone, such as the Zone Robo-Robotnik hailed from. In some, it runs slower, such as in the Twilight Cage. And in others, it can run at the same rate as the Prime Zone, but the point where the Prime Zone and the other Zone meets are at different points in their timelines. That covers the creation of Zones. So moving onto Zone Cop operations, I’ll turn to Zonic. Zonic: Thanks Zal… uh, Zally. As I’m sure most of you are aware, the Zone Cops monitor activity within the different Zones, as well as travel between the different Zones. Different units of Cops have different roles, from general monitoring, to patrolling the Cosmic Interstate, to protecting against threats to the Multiverse. For me, my job means I’m called in when direct action is required in another Zone. This is… a difficult job. You could well ask why don’t we help out whenever something bad happens in the other Zone. Truth is, that could cause a horrible imbalance, and lead to more disastrous consequences further down the line. It’s not easy sitting on the sidelines, but sometimes we have to. But then, there are times we do need to act to make sure a greater threat doesn’t rise. You’re likely aware of some of those times, as that’s when I’ve brought in Prime Sonic. Why him? Well, the Prime Zone is only a step away from all the other Zones, even wildly different ones like the Sol Zone. And Prime Sonic is, in all honesty, one of the most capable Sonic’s in the multiverse, so I know it’s in good hands. We could send in a squad of Zone Cops instead, but one Sonic can do, with very little disruption, what it would take several squads to accomplish. This has all gotten a lot harder recently, with Eggman Naga swarming over the Multiverse causing massive disruption, and the recent damage inflicted to Zone Jails. Alright, there’s a bit more to cover, but that’s for the end. Right now, I’m gonna turn to Zails. He’s still training to be a Zone Cop, but as one of his training projects, he’s done a Case Study on Silver the Hedgehog, so he’s here to talk about time travel. Take it away Zails. Zails: Uh… Alright *deep breath* You can do this Zails. Silver the Hedgehog is a time travelling Hedgehog… That’s redundant, isn’t it? Uh… so… Silver has travelled through time, but there have also been incidents where he’s interacted with different Zones aside from the Prime Zone, known as Light Mobius and Dark Mobius. So, er, Time Travel and Zone Travel do share many similar principles. Travelling between Zones is easy, as No-Zone and the Cosmic Highway connect all Zones. Even travel that doesn’t use the Cosmic Interstate, such as Star Posts, tend to make use of that connection. Time Travel is much harder, though it is easier to travel forwards, going with the flow of time, than backwards, working against it. This means it’s very easy, if you don’t know what you’re doing, to accidently move between Zones when Time Travelling. Er… *checks notes* Jani-ca from Dark Mobius did this, accidentally travelling to the Prime Zone when she went back in time. It’s easier to do when you are going back before the Triggering Event that created your Zone. And so, if you know how to Time Travel, it is much easier to travel to other Zones. Which leads us, uh, to the next question. ‘Does time travel create new Zones?’ The answer is ‘it depends’. Keep in mind, looking at Silver, given the chance it was unlikely he wouldn’t go back in time. And when he found out about Mecha-Sally, also unlikely that he wouldn’t stop her. So his actions changed the future, without creating a new Zone. On the other hand, King Sonic of Light Mobius. Once, it was the future of the Prime Zone. But when he went back in time, his actions created such wild changes, that Light Mobius became its own Zone, and the future of the Prime Zone was shifted away from it. Which then leads to a bigger question. *takes a breath, checks notes* ‘If you change the future, doesn’t that create a paradox where you wouldn’t have gone back to change the future?’ Okay, when someone goes back in time, they become part of the past, as if they always existed there. So when they return to the future, they’ll still remember their old life, even if their actions have created massive changes. We think. This is partially theoretical, based on observing Silver. There is one last question: ‘Why are some things from Light Mobius seen in Silver’s future?’ This is because of the way Light Mobius was created. There is still a connection between Light Mobius and the Prime Zone. Sometimes, things leak through. Maybe just objects, but at some point, even Tikchaos, or part of her, was able to slip into the Prime Zone. *looks over notes* Uh… that’s everything from me, so, er, back to Zonic. Zonic: Thanks Zails, you did great. *gives thumbs up* Our last topic is on Zone Numbering and Naming. There are countless Zones, and each is given an ‘official numbering’, based on the date and exact time of its creation. These numbers, as you might expect, are VERY long. So instead, we usually refer to the ‘Case File’ Numbers. These numbers, after the first 100, are based on when we start to take an interest in that Zone. The first 100, well, we were trying to rate the Zone’s by importance. We really messed that up! *chuckles* For naming a Zone, that honour is given to the team who first open a Case File on a Zone. *communicator beeps* Oh, that’s right! Just one other thing to note. We've heard rumours of another 'Sonic Prime'. We don't know any details yet, but we're investigating.

Okay, I think that is everything. Zally? Zally: Yes, we’ve just about covered everything. I hope we’ve managed to answer most of your questions. But before we leave, we’ve had numerous requests for knowing the name and designation of a number of Zones. So we’ll leave those with you. Thank you so much for listening. Now, here’s the list:

#001 – The Prime Zone – This is the zone where all others originate from, where Sonic and the heroes of Mobius fight against the tyranny of Dr. Eggman.

#017 – The Stealth Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where the superhero Stealth the Hedgehog fights villains such as Professor Egg.

#059 - The Serene Zone - This Zone features a Mobius where Julian Kintobor never managed to gain control after the Great War, and the Kingdom of Acorn stood strong.

#100 – The No Zone – Our Zone, from here the Zone Cops organization strives to maintain order across the multiverse.

#109 – The Legal Zone – This zone features a Mobius with a city called Litigopolis where law and order are the way of the world.

#196 – The Freedom Zone – This zone features a planet Freedom which is divided into two realms – the Land of the Sky and the Land of Darkness.

#199 – The Underground Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Prince Sonic and his siblings, Manic and Sonia, seek to find their mother, Queen Aleena, and become the Council of Four to overthrow the dictator Dr. Robotnik.

#220 – The Lightning Zone – This zone features a planet Earth where Sonic has traveled and been adopted by a police officer named Tom and stops the plans of the overzealous scientist Dr. Robotnik.

#372 – The Anti Zone – This zone is a mirror reflection of the Prime Zone, where our heroes are bad and their villains are good.

#403 – The Earth X Zone – This zone features a planet Earth with a city called Station Square. It is the home of Chris Thorndyke and his friends and has been protected by Sonic the Hedgehog.

#492 – The Image Zone – This zone features a planet Earth that is protected by heroes such as Spawn, Savage Dragon, and The Maxx.

#496 – The Dark Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius nearly purged of life from a corrupted Knuckles the Echidna who became Enerjak.

#589 – The Discovery Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius resembling a gritty film noir.

#593 – The Boomer Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Sonic and the Freedom Fighters; Johnny Lightfoot, Porker Lewis, Tails, and Amy, face various foes including the evil Dr. Robotnik.

#623 – The Real Zone – This zone features a planet Earth where Sonic the Hedgehog is a video game character.

#905 – The Mobius X Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Sonic and his friends call home. Sonic and his friends have been transported off this planet into the X Earth Zone.

#1054 – The Kaiju Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Dr. J Kintobor uses a super sized mecha, Giant Robotno, to fight enlarged mutants.

#1072 – The Sentai Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Sonicman and the Chaos Ninja Team fight the villainous Sallactor.

#1084 – The Cyborg Zone – This zone is home to a planet Mobius that has been left a ruined wasteland thanks to it’s Dr. Robotnik. This is the zone from which Dr. Eggman hails.

#1100 – Maginary Zone – This zone is where the dreams of all other zones are born from. It is entered via the Precioustone and is guarded by the powerful Illumina.

#1103 – The Light Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius very similar to our heroes’ world. King Sonic and Queen Sally rule the Kingdom of Acorn in this zone.

#1105 – The Sol Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Blaze the Cat guards the Jewelled Sceptre and the Sol Emeralds.

#1114 – The Boom Zone – This zone features a planet Mobius where Sonic and his friends live on Bygone Island and deal with regular shenanigans from Dr. Eggman.

#1241 – The Archie Zone – This zone features a planet Earth with a town called Riverdale. It is the home of Archie Andrews, Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and Josie and the Pussycats amongst others.

#1291 – The Luna Zone – This zone features a Mobius that is protected by the pretty guardian Sally Moon and her crush Tuxedo Knux.

#4235 – The Galaxy Zone – This zone is the home of the Freedom Fighters of the Galaxy, a group that patrols their universe facing cosmic threats such as Robolactus.

#archie sonic online #character ask #ask #zonic the zone cop #zally the zone cop #zails the zone cop #zones #time travel #light mobius #dark mobius #Silver the Hedgehog #prime zone #sonic the hedgehog

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wavesofinkdrops · 3 years

Text

Extempore, Ch. I

Read on AO3

Fenris/Dorian (Dragon Age), Rated: T (may get bumped up)

“Maybe Magister Pavus can take a holiday to clear his lungs at the summer home.”

Dorian flashed him a glare. “I don’t take holidays. I don’t get sick, I don’t leave, I don’t take random breaks when the Senate is in session.”

“You also don’t usually find yourself having been replaced into a different body, I presume?” Fenris asked, his voice unamused.

(Magister Pavus, bodyguard Fenris, and a bodyswap thrown on top. All of this promises hell.)

A/N: I do not have an explanation for this fic. It started off as an AU of an AU of an AU that a friend and I were joking about at 2 in the morning. So of course I ended up writing it. This is probably one of the most random fics I've ever written, and I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: No warnings as of now, some warnings MAY apply in the future for Fenris' or Dorian's traumas that may get covered (this may also bump up the rating). Other than that, none that I can think of!

Chapter I: Opening Act

The starting point:

Magister Dorian Pavus woke up much like any usual morning, albeit entirely on the wrong side of his bed. At the time, this was not such a pressing issue.

Fenris, the elf that the Inquisitor had managed to convince into becoming the Magister’s bodyguard, sank further into the bed that felt like pure silk clouds that morning. This was definitely not a problem.

This all, however, did become a problem when Dorian noticed the flare of pain every slight movement brought in him, as he stretched himself out against the rough cotton pillows and sheets. It became a pressing issue when Fenris sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and noticed the distinct lack of white lines against his skin and the lack of any sort of nightclothes on himself.

The progression:

What followed could briefly be summarised as mayhem. The realisation that somehow, through unknown forces, they had wound up in opposite bodies. Fenris now was trapped in the form of an Altus, a Magister at that, while Dorian inhabited an infamous walking lyrium experiment. It had led to a very interesting confrontation in the “Magister’s” chambers.

There was an incessant sensation that made Dorian feel like crawling out of his skin every passing second. The lyrium lines tugged and tingled at best, the feeling from the Fade strong particularly near Fenris—or rather, the body of a powerful mage, despite the fact that Fenris likely had no idea what to do with the magic at his fingertips. And he knew the familiar tug of the Fade, the way it was just within his reach—how he just wanted to reach out to it, and yet whenever he tried, it just brought a fresh stinging wave through the markings.

Fenris, on the other hand, felt oddly blank. There was no pain, there was nothing constantly on his mind and trying to take over his senses if he just let the chronic pain ever overwhelm him. There was just the presence of the Fade, devoid of its usual sting, and now merely… there. Peaceful, waiting for him. Wanting for him. He was curious to try reaching out in there, to see what it might do, but he was worried about what inexperienced magic use might cause. Both for him and Dorian, who already was laying seemingly in clear discomfort—Fenris doubted that adding to that a mage’s reach into the Fade would help the situation.

So their time that morning progressed with locking themselves up inside the room, Dorian trying to find a way to move past every thought and feeling swarming him like he was stuck in the middle of a wasp’s nest, while Fenris spent time trying to draw a plan and getting used to the moustache tickling his upper lip every second. It also was spent among various bickering arguments, one blaming the other for strange mage magic causing problems on purpose, the other blaming disturbances in the Fade from a breathing magical lyrium battery.

And the current situation?

Their disastrous morning had progressed into a sulking noon, the sun high in the sky. Dorian had taken some elfroot to temporarily ease the pain, since Fenris was not keen enough on trying any stabilising or soothing spells for the markings. They’d settled, Fenris in an armchair, casual robes draped over him, Dorian rubbing his temples in the chair behind the desk in their office.

“Well, we can’t appear like this,” Dorian finally snapped.

Fenris looked up, wanting to make a snide comment at the most obvious remark he’d heard in a while. Instead, he held his tongue, knowing that perhaps arguing with an already-irritated Dorian was not a good idea.

“Maybe Magister Pavus can take a holiday to clear his lungs at the summer home.”

Dorian flashed him a glare. “I don’t take holidays. I don’t get sick, I don’t leave, I don’t take random breaks when the Senate is in session.”

“You also don’t usually find yourself having been replaced into a different body, I presume?” Fenris asked, his voice unamused.

At that, Dorian paused. “I suppose this may be some… extenuating circumstances. I suppose it’s better than showing up and being accused of blood magic by the entire Magisterium.”

Admittedly, he wasn’t the first fan of the idea of losing his unbroken reputation of attendance at the Magisterium, but there was very little that was up to them, if they didn’t want to get discovered. He knew he was far too arrogant to act the appropriate part usually played by Fenris, and he knew that in return, Fenris disliked the Magisters and entire higher government enough to be unwilling to attend any sessions.

Dorian leaned back, eyeing his desk with disinterest. That was, until he noted the sheets of paper neatly stacked in the middle of the desk.

The bill of reforms.

Maker, he’d forgotten about that.

“Fenris,” he turned to the elf with wide eyes. “Fenris, you have to attend the next session.”

Fenris looked up at him, clearly considering Dorian insane.

“You cannot mean that.”

Dorian lifted the first page of the bill. “This bill is being debated on the floor of the Magisterium in five days’ time. I’ve already proposed the bill, I’ve coddled and promised and sweet-talked support for it. I need this reform to pass. Slaves need this reform to pass, Fenris,” Dorian emphasised, as realisation spread vividly onto Fenris’ features. Well, really, they were Dorian’s own, very handsome features, but with a distinctly Fenris expression.

“Fasta vass, I can’t debate the bill.” Fenris stood crossing over to the sheets and eyes skimming through them. “I don’t even understand it.”

Dorian waved him off. “You know the basics of the bill! I consulted you enough when I wrote this that you know what it’s about and what it’s meant to do. We’re perfectly settled on that end. The end we need to work on is getting you to argue it to the Magisters. Many of them see only their own advantages, so it’s just a question of making it seem like this is to their benefit, too.”

“You’ve already got all of this figured out when I haven’t even agreed to do it—can’t we just trust this with Maevaris? Call the Inquisitor, surely she’s seen all kinds of strange magic, including switched bodies?” Fenris picked at something at the end of a sleeve of his robe, the only one he’d been willing to put on.

Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you want this bill to be doomed? If it doesn’t pass, it will be either forgotten or purposely blocked by another regulation that they’ll pass in its stead to prevent anything similar coming to the floor again!”

Fenris chewed on the inside of his lip. “I don’t know how you think I’m ever going to speak with the Magisters, let alone convince them of anything. I don’t debate. I prefer to solve things with a sword, it’s much cleaner than the poison in those silver-tongued words.”

“You cannot start a duel in the middle of the Magisterium, Fenris, I have a reputation and policies to protect!”

Fenris eyed him, not as amused as Dorian had seemed to hope that comment would make him. “Your reputation goes above your policies?”

“Of course, the second is nothing without the first. How do you think I would gather support for the bills without my undeniable wit and charm?” He tried for an equally charming smile, but it fell somewhat flat at Fenris’ look.

At that, Fenris scoffed.

“Listen,” Dorian continued, “we don’t have a plethora of options. We have five days from today to figure out what to do.”

“And you want to teach me how to act like a Magister.”

Dorian’s grin turned ominous as his machinations began working. “Oh, I can make you the perfect actor in two days! All I need is a day to cover the bill, really, and then after that, it’s more about making sure you preserve my impeccable reputation!”

Fenris considered the idea for a while. Finally, he leaned back in the chair, arms crossed. “I’ll agree to that.”

“Fantast—”

“ If you agree to train with my sword and act the part of my bodyguard. You’re not the only one with a reputation, and I can assure you, I won’t have a prissy Magister start ruining it.”

“Just who are you calling prissy —”

“That tone is exactly an example of what I mean.”

“I’ll have you know everyone considers my bodyguard a ruthless killer and it wouldn’t do him any harm—”

“That’s my condition, you take it or leave it, Pavus.”

Dorian glared at him. He mulled over it, before sighing as dramatically as he could manage. “If I must!”

#fenris #dorian pavus #dragon age #dragon age ii #dragon age inquisition #fenrian #my writing #fanfic #bodyswap au #i have no explanatuin for this #other than being fenrian trash #extempore

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sibillascribbles08 · 4 years

Text

Cinnamon and Ginger

Wrote some more Lloyd and Queenie, mostly just talkin... mostly

Lloyd wasn’t sure what he expected to find in this ancient temple, but this certainly wasn’t it.

For one he was surprised the temple was even in the labyrinth, as he didn’t remember seeing it when he came in here with his father. It was old, crumbling, covered in vines, but the interior seemed to be in better condition. There were carpets and tapestries along the walls. Hand carved chairs, plush cushions, and torches. Lloyd stared at it all along with the carvings in the stone. It reminded him of oni, but why was it here?

“Was this an oni temple?” Lloyd felt bold enough to ask. By now it was just him and the Oni Queen. Pythor and Machia, under orders, left the two of them alone. Despite the queen’s presence, Lloyd didn’t feel very threatened by it.

“It was.” She glanced back, smiling at him. “Back then the forest wasn’t nearly so overgrown, however. I suspect the first master of nature had a hand in that, but I wasn’t here to witness it.”

Lloyd frowned. “But why?”

“To hide things. Why else build a labyrinth?” She turned all the way around, arms out. “Hiding a mask, a realm crystal, a few other things.” She led him into a room on the upper level. The sun poured in from the center, lighting up the entire space. There were lush carpets and cushions all along the floor and a small stone oven in the corner. On top of it sat a teapot and a set of cups.

“Please, sit.” She pointed. “Would you like some tea?”

“You have tea?” This felt stranger and stranger by the minute. “Uh… what kind?”

“I’ve collected some jasmine, oolong, peppermint… Oh! And I make this wonderful mixture with cinnamon and ginger.”

Lloyd didn’t want to admit that sounded nice. Everything about this felt so casual. He always expected if he did run into the leader of the oni there’d be some massive invasion, or a battle.

Not tea time.

“I guess… whatever you’re making.” Lloyd mumbled and sat down on a few of the pillows. They were much softer than he expected.

The Queen made the tea in silence, or mostly silence. All while she worked she hummed a strange tune, and Lloyd could feel it having some kind of effect on him. His muscles relaxed, the tension left his jaw. He watched her light the fire with some flint. She opened a jar where she poured the tea leaves into the cups one by one. When the water in the pot boiled she took it off the heat, waiting a bit.

“Why aren’t you pouring the water?” Lloyd asked.

“Too hot and we’ll scorch the leaves. Surely your uncle taught you this.”

Lloyd had never actually seen his uncle make tea. He just always seemed to have a new pot in hand.

Finally the Queen poured the water in the cups. She waved a finger, the cups levitating and following her as she came over to the cushions.

“How are you doing that?” Lloyd had to ask. If they got some details about her powers maybe it’d be easier to fight her later, if it came to that.

“Not all of the elements you humans have came from dragons, you know.” She let the cups gently sit on the ground before she sat next to Lloyd. “Gravity is one oni reside over. So is sound,” she hummed, “and light.” With a snap of her fingers, small glowing orbs danced around her hands. “And more.”

Lloyd just stared back at her. Why were they never told that? “I thought oni could only destroy, not create.”

“As I said before, there’s so much you don’t know.” She picked up her cup, breathing in the steam from it. “I guess I can’t entirely blame your teachers for the slander on our names. That war was not one of my better decisions.” She took a gentle sip.

“Um…” Lloyd picked up his own cup. “Which war, exactly?”

“Goodness, did they not even give you a basic history lesson?” She sneered. “Then again I doubt my son liked to talk about it much.”

“Mistaké told us that the dragon and oni fought over my grandfather but…” Lloyd thought for a moment. “She was there wasn’t she, during the war?”

“Putting two and two together huh?” The Queen smiled. “Indeed, her gift with form made her a valuable spy, but I assume spending so much time among humans made her fond of them. She wasn’t the only one. Many members of my army defected.” She stared into her cup. “Again, I don’t blame them, but I best start at the beginning.”

Lloyd blinked when the room went dark. Where did the sun go? Before he could move to look at the sky lights snapped through the room, forming little figures in the dark.

“I’ll keep it short.” The Queen said as dragons and oni popped up on opposite sides. “In the first realm, before the others came into existence, our people were at odds. The dragons, while creators, could never manage the resources that we needed to survive. The fighting caused casualties on both sides. Eventually I grew tired of it, and tried to form a peace treaty by proposing a marriage with the queen of the dragons.”

One of the oni and one of the dragons moved closer to each other in the center.

“Wait.” Lloyd said. “You two actually got married? That ex-wife comment wasn’t a joke?”

“I don’t joke about things like that. At any rate, relations between our people actually heavily improved, but that sadly all fell apart when our son came into the picture.”

A smaller figure appeared between the oni and the dragon. All the lights in the room turned a violent red.

“I’m sure you heard about what happened after that. First there was the war between the oni and the dragons. My rage was fueled by the fact that my son sided with the dragons. But after some time in that war, he fled into this realm. My army chased after him.”

The lights swirled in the room before reforming. Lloyd didn’t recognize the shape they took in the center. Was that supposed to be Ninjago? Tilting his head he realized it was, just how it looked before it split.

“Sadly, my goal at that point was mostly vengeance. I decided if I couldn’t build a life for my people in the first realm then we’d take over this one. I’m sure you know how that ended up.” Her sigh was long, sad. “I lost my generals. So many of my people ran and hid. Eventually those who still remained had no choice but to flee the realm.”

“But you stayed?” Lloyd tried to read her expression in the dark, but he could only see her eyes.

“My goal has not changed, though I refuse to approach it as foolishly as I did in the past.” The sunlight came back as she turned to look at him. “My people can’t thrive in the departed realm. The first realm is no longer an option. This is the best place for us to put a foothold. And now I have the opportunity to try again.”

“But I’m the only thing standing in your way.” Lloyd glared. “So you’re trying to convince me otherwise.”

The Queen studied him. “While it’s true that you hold just as much power as your grandfather, I’m not really concerned about you being in the way. You’ve hardly scratched the surface of your capabilities.” She sipped her tea. “But I would much rather us not be at odds. Family is an important thing to me Lloyd.”

“What?” He stood up. “Are you kidding me? You sent an entire army after your son.”

“You didn’t know him.” She sneered. “And I regret not approaching Garmadon or Wu, but with your father always around there was never an opportunity.”

“I don’t want to destroy anything.” Lloyd mumbled. “I don’t want to be responsible for that, I don’t…” He looked down in the mug, at his eyes that had turned red ever since that snake bit him. “I don’t want to end up like my father.”

“Are you ashamed of him?”

“He used to be evil.” Lloyd snapped. “And he’s evil now, ever since Harumi brought him back.”

The Queen clicked her teeth, then drank her tea. “That wasn’t your father.”

Lloyd blinked. “What?”

“That wasn’t your father, that was another oni. His name is Efri, in fact. I sent him here to get hold of the realm crystal, but then we discovered the realm crystal was shattered. Not long after that he just… goes off on his own, blocks out my orders.” She sighed. “What is it about this realm that makes my soldiers leave? Then again he was very young.” She tapped her chin.

“That… wasn’t my father?” Lloyd mumbled. “But she summoned him!”

“No, she summoned an oni.” The Queen chuckled. “A fancy spell I rewrote to suit her desires. Honestly now, using oni masks to summon a dead human? Does that sound quite right in your mind?”

“Then what about my hair?” Lloyd pointed to his head. “And my mom?”

“Your mom wasn’t necessary, but oni DNA is.” She looked into her now empty cup. “And normally it takes three other oni but the spirits of them would work just as well.”

“Spirits? The masks?” Lloyd put a hand on his head. This was starting to become too much information at once.

“Yes! Do you know where they are actually? I would like to talk to my generals.”

“Uh, two of them broke.” Lloyd cringed, not sure how she would take the news.

The Queen didn’t flinch. “Two of them? What of the third?”

“I don’t know where the mask of vengeance went. We haven’t seen it since.”

“Ah, vengeance, Odol.” She smiled. “Well he’ll be delightful to have back when I find him. But no matter, not the topic for now.” She pointed at Lloyd’s cup. “Drink some tea, you haven’t touched it.”

Lloyd watched her get up and head over to refill her cup. He took a sip, the smell of cinnamon and ginger hitting his nose before it entered his mouth. It had a bit of spice to it, but was still soothing.

“You say you don’t want to destroy.” The Queen poured the hot water in the cup. “But I wouldn’t ask you too. Besides, Little Prince, Creation and Destruction are one in the same.”

Lloyd lowered the mug. “What do you mean?”

“To create a house you must destroy some trees. To create a blanket you must shear a sheep. To create parchment you have to skin a beast.” She flashed a bit of a morbid smile at that comment. “Things don’t come from nothing. That’s why Creation and Destruction are balancing powers. Take something away, make something new, you understand.”

Lloyd kept drinking tea, thinking about it.

“Let me ask this, how did the first realm look when you visited?”

He blinked. “I didn’t but um… Kai described it as a wasteland. Like a desert.”

She nodded as she came back over to sit on the cushions again. “Dragons can create all their resources, so they never bother to maintain it. I figured, since my people left, the balance was destroyed.”

“But you won’t go back.”

“Heavens no.” She put a hand on her chest. “And get into another war with the dragons? Absolutely not.”

“But you’ll go to war with Ninjago.”

“There doesn’t have to be a war if you help me.” The Queen pointed at him. “Think about it, this could be the new peace treaty. We could recreate that balance.”

It sounded so good in theory, but Lloyd had trouble believing her that it was that simple. If the oni came over the citizens would panic, no doubt. If anyone lashed out, how would the oni take it? The oni were so much more powerful. People would die.

“I can see your doubts.” Those circles on her horns were glowing again. “Mind is another element that stems from us oni.”

Lloyd flinched and took a step back.

“Can I at least show what we’d be capable of?” The Queen grinned. “No citizens involved. You have my word.”

“Forgive me for not fully trusting that.”

The Queen put the cup down and put her hands together, bowing. “You have my word, Little Prince, no one will be harmed during this.”

Ugh, he hated how convincing she was. It had to be a trick. Oni were trickers, right? But damn, how could he argue with it. Arguing would just put more people at risk, wouldn’t it? And hey, if she showed him this maybe he’d get more powerful. Maybe he could fight back.

“Okay,” Lloyd mumbled. “Fine.”

“Grand.” She stood. “Then first thing is first, we have to get rid of these shackles.”

Lloyd frowned. “Huh?”

She tapped her sharp nail against his chest. “You cling too tightly to your humanity, Little Prince. You’re so much more than that.”

Lloyd could hear his next heart beat. It shook his entire body and made his ears rings. He didn’t get the chance to figure out why it happened. Everything felt warm, like his blood was boiling. Sharp pain bloomed in his forehead. He gritted his teeth to try and alleviate the pain in his jaw. What the hell was happening?

He glanced at his hands to see his skin turning black.

#scribbly fics #uh oh sisters #ninjago

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newstfionline · 4 years

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Headlines

A wobble lessened Laura’s devastation (AP) Hurricane Laura was a monster storm that could have, even should have, wreaked much more destruction than it did, except for a few lucky breaks and some smart thinking by Gulf Coast residents, experts say. Just before striking Louisiana, Laura wobbled. It wasn’t much, maybe 15 miles (24 kilometers) for a Category 4 storm that was nearly the width of two states. But it was enough to move the worst of the storm surge east of Lake Charles and into a far less populated area. And even before that, Laura threaded a needle between well-populated New Orleans, Port Arthur and Houston and came ashore in Cameron Parish, which is the second least-populated county along the coast. The population of the average Atlantic and Gulf Coast county is 322,000 people. Cameron Parish has less than 7,000. The storm was still devastating, but not quite as catastrophic as it might have been.

Hurricane Laura cleanup starts (AP) The angry storm surge has receded and the clean up has begun from Hurricane Laura, but officials along this shattered stretch of Louisiana coast are warning returning residents they will face weeks without power or water amid the hot, stifling days of late summer. The U.S. toll from the Category 4 hurricane stood at 14 deaths, with more than half of those killed by carbon monoxide poisoning from the unsafe operation of generators. Across southwestern Louisiana, people were cleaning up from the destructive hurricane that roared ashore early Thursday, packing 150-mph (240-kph) winds. Many were deciding whether they wanted to stay in miserable conditions or wait until basic services are finally restored. Simply driving was a feat in Lake Charles, a city of 80,000 residents hit head on by the hurricane’s eye. Power lines and trees blocked paths or created one-lane roads that drivers had to navigate with oncoming traffic. Street signs were snapped off their posts or dangling. No stoplights worked, making it an exercise in trust with other motorists sharing the roads.

Weather slows California wildfires; thousands allowed home (AP) California wildfires were slowly being corralled Friday as cooler, humid weather and reinforcements aided firefighters and tens of thousands of people were allowed back home after days of death and destruction. In the past two days, evacuation orders were lifted for at least 50,000 people in the San Francisco Bay Area and wine country, officials with the state fire agency, Cal Fire, said. Around the state, hundreds of wildfires—coming months earlier in the season than expected—have killed at least seven people, burned more than 2,000 square miles (5,200 square kilometers) and pushed firefighter resources to the breaking point. Two are among the largest wildfires in recent state history.

1 killed as Trump supporters, protesters clash in Portland (AP) One person was shot and killed late Saturday in Portland, Oregon, as a large caravan of President Donald Trump supporters and Black Lives Matter protesters clashed in the streets, police said. It wasn’t clear if the shooting was linked to fights that broke out as a caravan of about 600 vehicles was confronted by protesters in the city’s downtown. An Associated Press freelance photographer heard three gunshots and then observed police medics working on the body of the victim, who appeared to be a white man. The freelancer said the man was wearing a hat bearing the insignia of Patriot Prayer, a right-wing group whose members have frequently clashed with protesters in Portland in the past.

Rival Themes Emerge as Race Enters Final Weeks: Covid vs. Law and Order (NYT) As a weeklong Republican offensive against Joseph R. Biden Jr. ends, the Democratic nominee plans to resume campaigning in swing states and has released a multimillion dollar barrage of ads attacking President Trump’s handling of the coronavirus. The moves come as the presidential campaign barrels into the critical last 10 weeks. They represent a bet by Mr. Biden that a focus on Covid-19 will prevail over Mr. Trump’s “law and order” emphasis and his attempt to portray Mr. Biden as a tool of the “radical left.” The question of which argument feels more urgent to the American people is likely to play a critical role in determining the outcome in November.

Dreading the School Year? Some Parents Are Taking It On The Road (Bloomberg) When the novel coronavirus began spreading across the globe early this year, Bridy and Kurt Oreshack were so concerned that they pulled their children out of school three days before it officially closed. Their anxiety quickly gave way to other emotions. “We thought, there’s never going to be an opportunity like this in our careers,” says Bridy, a wealth advisor in San Diego. She and her husband, an attorney, had hoped to someday spend a year traveling with their kids, who are now 5, 9, and 10. When Covid-19 disrupted schooling and made it not merely acceptable but desirable for the Oreshacks to work remotely, they decided to make the leap. Instead of attending their normal bilingual private school, the three Oreshack children will “roadschool” for the 2020-21 academic year, stringing together a series of road trips to national parks and the Pacific Northwest, with a stretch in Hawaii in the mix. “We’re only on Day 2 of homeschooling,” Oreshack says from her home in San Diego, where the family is temporarily recovering from summer explorations. “But so far, it’s been rad and wonderful.” Combining homeschooling and travel—an approach often known as “worldschooling”—isn’t new. But it has been a very rare phenomenon, limited to families willing to trade stability, structure, and conventional education for adventure. Now, “roadschooling” is emerging as a Covid-19-era alternative for Americans who are limited by border closures but not by commutes.

Coronavirus cases in some European countries are rising again, but with fewer deaths (Washington Post) Coronavirus cases are surging again in Europe after months of relative calm, but the second wave looks different from the first: Fewer people are dying, and the newest and mostly younger victims of the pandemic need less medical treatment. Unlike the initial hit of the pandemic this spring, which overwhelmed hospitals and turned nursing homes into grim mortuaries, the European resurgence of recent weeks has not forced as many people into medical wards. But the increase is widespread, and it is unsettling societies that had hoped the worst was behind them. Paris on Friday joined some other French jurisdictions in imposing a citywide mask requirement, with cases spiking. France, Germany, Spain and others posted caseloads in recent days that had not been seen since April and early May. Spain has been hit particularly hard, with per capita cases now worse than in the United States. And with almost every European country planning a return to in-person schooling, many starting next week, public health officials are holding their breath for the impact.

Riots in Sweden after Quran burning by far-right activists (AP) Far-right activists burned a Quran in the southern Swedish city of Malmo, sparking riots and unrest after more than 300 people gathered to protest, police said Saturday. Rioters set fires and threw objects at police and rescue services Friday night, slightly injuring several police officers and leading to the detention of about 15 people. The violence followed the burning Friday afternoon of a Quran, near a predominantly migrant neighborhood, that was carried out by far-right activists and filmed and posted online, according to the TT news agency.

Turkey to hold military exercise off Cyprus amid Mediterranean tensions (Reuters) Turkey said it will hold a military exercise off northwest Cyprus for the next two weeks, amid growing tension with Greece over disputed claims to exploration rights in the east Mediterranean. Both sides have held military exercises in the east Mediterranean, highlighting the potential for the dispute over the extent of their continental shelves to escalate into confrontation. Two weeks ago Greek and Turkish frigates shadowing Turkey’s Oruc Reis oil and gas survey vessel collided, and Turkey’s Defence Ministry said Turkish F-16 jets on Thursday prevented six Greek F-16s entering an area where Turkey was operating.

Russian city holds eighth anti-Kremlin protest (Reuters) Thousands of people took to the streets on Saturday in Russia’s far eastern city of Khabarovsk to protest against President Vladimir Putin’s handling of a regional political crisis and the suspected poisoning of his most vocal critic. “Putin, have some tea,” protesters chanted as they marched on the city’s main thoroughfare, in a reference to the case of opposition politician Alexei Navalny who fell gravely ill this month after drinking a cup of tea at an airport cafe. Residents of Khabarovsk, about 6,110 km (3,800 miles) east of Moscow, started holding weekly rallies after the July 9 detention of Sergei Furgal, the region’s popular governor, over murder charges he denies.

Surge in South Korea coronavirus cases sparks hospital bed shortage concerns (Reuters) South Korea recorded its 16th consecutive day of triple digit rises in new coronavirus cases on Saturday, extending a second wave of infections that is fanning concerns about a shortage of hospital beds in Seoul. The spike in cases has depleted hospital facilities, with the health ministry reporting that just 4.5% of beds in greater Seoul were available for critical cases as of Friday, down from 22% a week earlier.

Zimbabwe’s ‘keyboard warriors’ hold protests off the streets (AP) Unable to protest on the streets, some in Zimbabwe are calling themselves “keyboard warriors” as they take to graffiti and social media to pressure a government that promised reform but is now accused of gross human rights abuses. Activists use the hashtag #zimbabweanlivesmatter to encourage global pressure on President Emmerson Mnangagwa’s government. Tens of thousands of people, from Jamaican reggae stars to U.S. rap and hip-hop musicians, have joined African celebrities, politicians and former presidents in tweeting with the hashtag. But some analysts say online protests might not be enough to move Mnangagwa, who increasingly relies on security forces to crush dissent despite promising reforms when he took power after a coup in 2017. Tensions are rising anew in the once prosperous southern African country. Inflation is over 800%, amid acute shortages of water, electricity, gas and bank notes and a health system collapsing under the weight of drug shortages and strikes by nurses and doctors. Revelations of alleged corruption related to COVID-19 medical supplies led to the sacking of the health minister and further pressure on Mnangagwa. His government has responded to the rising dissent with arrests and alleged abductions and torture.

#headlines #news

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rohanrider3 · 5 years

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Nefarious Fiend (A Good Omens ficlet)

“Thisss entire meeting could have been a bloody email.” Crowley muttered, head tilted downwards on his chest and facing towards somewhere between his shin and the floor. “Pointlessss wasssste of time.”

“Time,” Gabriel said sternly, “is not something beings like us take into account.”

After what happened at Tadfield, Gabriel isn't happy with Aziraphale. Or Crowley. He pulls them into one of Heaven's Conference Rooms to...talk things over with them. That sounds fine. Right? Right. (It's not.)

“I suppose you’re wondering why I called this meeting.” Gabriel said in his usual sanctimonious manner, fingers steepled before him.

Aziraphale swallowed hard and sat up even straighter, determined not to make a misstep. Gabriel had set aside one of the Conference Rooms for this very meeting. Which meant that he—they—that both of them—were treading on very, very, VERY thin ice here.

Gabriel did not like missteps. And Gabriel especially did not like—well. Missteps involving “fraternizing with the enemy”, as he’d said. More than that, Gabriel did not like—

—did not like—

Crowley.

Crowley, who’d helped avert a pointless Apocolypse. Crowley, who despite his prickly behavior and literal devil-may-care attitude was the best being on Earth, in Aziraphale’s six-thousand year opinion. Crowley. Who happened to be a demon.

Gabriel did not like demons.

And he especially did not like Crowley. Apparently averting a pointless battle where thousands of innocents died horrible deaths counted as “bad” and “fraternizing with the enemy” in Gabriel’s books.

Puzzling, really.

Be that as it may, Gabriel did NOT like Crowley. He never had, but his dislike had turned into outright hatred after that…that incident at Tadfield. And what had followed after.

Judging from Crowley’s glare across the conference table (the glare which was all but burning holes into Gabriel’s stylish suit), the feeling was mutual.

Aziraphale’s best friend snorted and purposely slouched even further down in his chair, as far as the icy chains holding him in place would let him. He still managed, despite the thick restraints holding him in place—and also despite his very stylish black suit, shoes, ever-present sunglasses, and ruffled coppery hair—to somehow embody the image of a very sulky snake.

“Time,” Gabriel said sternly, “is not something beings like us take into account.”

“Clearly.” Crowley retorted. “The humanss will have started actually usssing solar power by now, and I wouldn’t be sssurprised if there are self-driving carsss when we get ba—“

“Shut up, snake.” Gabriel said offhandedly, and Aziraphale winced when Crowley outright hissed at the opposite archangel, bared fangs and all. He’d tried shapeshifting into a snake when they were both captured, but the restraints weren’t letting him. Didn’t stop him from hissing again, though.

“It’s really all right, my dear.” Aziraphale broke in, putting on his best (false) smile. “It’s quite all right. Just a little bit of—of, of fraternal correction, from, from my superiors, and I’ll improve my—my performance with helping humans see the, the light, and—and everything will be—er, balanced, as usual, and as right as rain. Again.”

He’d hoped Crowley—that clever, quick-witted, absolutely maddening very best friend of his soul since time had begun—would take the hint and read into the words he dared not say aloud. Truthfully, he meant something more along the lines of For pity’s sake, don’t make things harder on yourself and just let me take the heat this time, it’ll be fine, they won’t do any—permanent—damage—I don’t think—and then I should be able to come up with a reason for them to let you go that they’ll accept, and—NO CROWLEY STOP MAKING THINGS WORSE FOR YOURSE—“

“Fraternal CORRECTION?!” His best friend had shouted, all but lunging out of his chair. The icy chains holding him in place creaked and snapped as they kept reforming, and Aziraphale’s stomach dropped as he saw the cracked and swollen skin on his friend’s wrists and throat. But Crowley wasn’t paying attention. Oh, typical. He was too busy raging at Gabriel—at GABRIEL—who, Aziraphale nervously noticed, seemed to be enjoying this. Oh dear. Oh dear. He forced himself to stop spiraling into an anxiety attack, good heavens, he’d nearly lost track of what Crowley was saying—

“—BULLYING!!” Crowley was shouting. “I SSS—SHOULD KNOW! I’M A DEMON, FOR—FOR EVERYTHING’S SSSAKE!! YOU LOT DON’T HELP HIM, OR NOTICE WHEN HE’S DONE SSSSOMETHING GOOD, YOU RANDOMLY SSSNATCH HIM UP HERE WHEN YOU NEED SSSOMEONE TO KICK AROUND, AND JUST BECAUSE HE’S KIND AND OBLIGING YOU THINK YOU CAN JUSSST—“

Gabriel raised one hand. And Crowley’s voice cut off.

“Oh, really!” Aziraphale cried. “Gabriel, you needn’t—you don’t have to—for, for Heaven’s sake, don’t—don’t—Gabriel, stop that!”

Gabriel turned his head slightly so that he was facing Aziraphale, quirking an eyebrow in feigned confusion. “Stop what, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale spluttered for a moment, his horrified eyes flicking from Gabriel’s hand.

From Gabriel’s hand to the ice muzzle currently smothering Crowley.

It had all happened so fast.

The chains around Crowley’s neck had just—just sharpened, and, and sort of—well, parts of them had melted, and remolded, over and over and over, icy fingers stretching up and coating over his friend’s chin, and mouth, and nose, and then covered the entire lower half of his face, and then—then just frozen solid over it, layers and layers of thick, clouded ice cutting into his best friend’s skin and turning it almost blue in seconds.

Crowley couldn’t breathe. He’d jerked in surprise at the suddenness of it all, and then jerked his head again, side to side to side, as if that might make things right again. Behind the chair back, his hands curled into fists as he fought to break free. Wasn’t going to happen, though. Gabriel had made those chains. Gabriel didn’t leave weak links.

Aziraphale felt his own chest tighten.

Crowley couldn’t breathe.

Crowley—Crowley couldn’t—

And Gabriel was just sitting there, doing nothing—Aziraphale realized, almost numbly, that he himself had been trying to miracle the ice away ever since it had appeared on Crowley’s face, but whatever Gabriel had done, it was too powerful for him to undo—not fast enough, at least—

“Gabriel!” Aziraphale said again, breathless with shock and horror. “You can’t just—he—you can’t do this, he needs to—“

“He doesn’t need to breathe.” Gabriel said, as if explaining basic matters to a very small and stupid child. “He’s not a human. Time on earth doesn’t change celestial—or infernal—beings that much. Breathing’s just something he’s used to. Isn’t that right, demon?”

The muscles around Crowley’s eyes tightened, and Aziraphale knew his expressions well enough to know that even though Crowley was currently banging his own head against the headrest behind him, striving to get free, he was also glaring daggers at Gabriel. Who seemed to be enjoying this. A lot.

Aziraphale licked his lips, thinking quickly. What could he say, what could he do—he could, he could try turning Gabriel’s ire on him. Yes, yes that would work.

“Gabriel,” he began, but the archangel held up a hand and cut him off too. “Shut up.” Gabriel said cooly, and Aziraphale swallowed hard as he felt the icy tendrils spiraling harder around his own wrists and pinning him where he sat. He had to stay calm. He had to get Crowley out of here. He had to get free to get Crowley out of here. He racked his brains for a plan. Think. Think. Crowley can’t breathe. Think. He doesn’t need to breathe. Does he? Oh no, what if he does now? Besides, he’s a snake. He can’t handle cold. It’s bad for him. It’s so bad for him. Remember that time in Tibet? No, no, no, DON’T remember that time in Tibet. That’s not helpful, not now. CROWLEY CAN’T BREATHE. Think. Think. Think think think think—

All this time, Crowley hadn’t stopped trying to tear his chains apart, but his weakening efforts only seemed to make them grow thicker, the thin mist coming off the freezing links intensifying along with his efforts.

Gabriel abruptly stood up and made his way over to the other side of the table, leaning against the edge and looking down on the struggling Crowley, his usual, casual smile on his face. The cold, meaningless one that Aziraphale absolutely hated.

“I asked you a question, demon.” Gabriel said quietly, but his eyes were hard. With a sudden motion, he reached out and struck Crowley hard across the side of the face. The blow sent Crowley’s dark glasses clattering to the floor, skidding and sliding into a corner where they smashed against the wall and cracked into multiple pieces.

Crowley blinked a few times, then glared back up at Gabriel, vertical irises narrowing in their pools of yellow until they were mere dark slits in a blazing sea of anger.

Gabriel grinned at that.

“So the snake-eyed demon can hear, at least.”

He leaned down, closer to Crowley’s glare. No. No. No. Gabriel paying attention to Crowley could not be good. Azirphale realized he’d started speaking now, almost babbling in a desperate attempt to draw Gabriel’s attention away from his friend.

“Gabriel!” He shouted, pulling against his own restraints. “You—you don’t have jurisdiction over him. It’s me. You wanted to speak with me, isn’t it? You were—you are—you are still angry about the averted Apocolypse, aren’t you? I’m the one you’re angry with, so talk to me! Get angry with me, not him!!”

Crowley shot Aziraphale a shocked look and made a half-angry, half-something-else sound behind the ice muzzle.

Gabriel smiled at that, then spared Aziraphale a glance over his shoulder and a small—a very small—smile.

“Oh, I think you’re getting the message just fine.”

He turned back to Crowley, considered. Slapped him again, a full backhand this time, hard enough to leave a red mark across one temple. Then he stepped back, considered his work. Studied the way Crowley’s movements were slowing now, slowing…rather a lot, actually.

“Hm. Maybe I was wrong.” He drawled. “Maybe you do need to breathe.” He leaned down, getting far too close to Crowley’s face again.

“Well, then, demon. You want to breathe so badly? You have something to say for your…friend?” Gabriel’s voice dripped disgust at the word and he nearly physically pulled back, then thought better of it. He smiled into Crowley’s eyes. “Well, then, demon. Fight for it.”

Crowley’s already gray face went nearly white, and Aziraphale heard rather than saw the steam hissing away from the ice coating his friend’s face.

They waited. Nothing happened. The ice continued to reform, despite Crowley’s best efforts.

Gabriel’s eyes were glacier cold.

“Fight. Harder.” He suggested, and Aziraphale felt something in his chest crack as Crowley outright screamed behind the muzzle, jerking and struggling in a last, frantic attempt, steam rising as the ice melted away from his eyes, rolled down the ice ridges like tears until—finally—finally—Crowley managed to breathe again. Just through his nose, but that at least was a start. It was something.

But—

Azpiraphale’s rush of relief quickly faded as he realized Crowley wasn’t breathing right. His breaths were coming in raspy, awful sounding huffs, and the skin underneath his strained eyes and around his face was—

—red. And white. And…and awful.

The marks weren’t from the ice. Not just the ice, at any rate.

Burns.

Crowley’s…face…is…burned. Badly. So badly that Crowley is shuddering as if he’s suddenly come down with a violent fever, and he doesn’t look—right, and he doesn’t look at all well—and his usual tough-as-nails-attitude is gone, cracked and crumbled down right now in front of everyone, and he just looks so—so lost—and so—so hurt—and afraid—the ice had hid all that until now—

How—how had that��

“You…” Aziraphale heard himself saying from a distance, almost as if someone else was using his voice. “You…froze…you froze holy water. To make the chains.”

Gabriel’s smile reached his eyes. “Yes. Yes I did. Rather clever, don’t you think? To use that purifying water on something so…” he shuddered artistically. “Disgusting.” Gabriel leaned forward, an earnest expression finally shining out through his eyes. “Don’t you see, Aziraphale? The error of your ways? Stop fraternizing with the enemy, making excuses, pretending you have anything at all in common with this…with this fallen one. He’s corrupting you. Can’t you see? He’s twisted, dark, malicious—he only wants to hurt you, Aziraphale. You can’t trust him. No one can.”

Aziraphale blinked owlishly, once at Gabriel, then turned back to look at Crowley.

Who’d shrunk into himself at Gabriel’s words and didn’t dare look at Aziraphale.

“Well?” Gabriel said pointedly. He grabbed Crowley’s chin and dragged it upwards, ignoring the cut-off whimper and ragged breathing that worsened as he did so. He forced Crowley to look him in the eyes, sneered at what he saw there, and forced Crowley’s head around to look directly at Aziraphale.

“See? Fallen. Corrupted. Weak.” He released Crowley with a disdainful thrust of his hand, and wiped it off on his pocket handkerchief afterwards. “Not even his own side wants him. So why on earth—or anywhere else—would you want to fraternize with this, this snake?”

Aziraphale stared at his friend.

Crowley’s eyes were glazed and only-half focused on him, but there was something else there too. Pain. And something worse than pain, something the torture and Gabriel’s words had laid bare at long last, shivering, hiding just under the surface.

Fear.

Fear that Aziraphale would believe Gabriel. Would side with…with Gabriel. Would leave him.

Damn Gabriel. Even on their worst days on Earth, Crowley must know—surely he did—that Aziraphale would never be capable of leaving him behind, not in a hundred thousand millennia.

But Gabriel knew how to hurt people. How to play on old fears and insecurities. And he’d dragged Crowley here, taunted him with not being able to help Aziraphale, and then, without any warning whatsoever, tortured him almost beyond the limits of endurance. Then twisted the metaphorical knife in to the hilt of the emotional wound. They’d dealt with threats before, but they’d almost always had time to plan.

But like this—like this—taken off balance, blindsided by agonizing pain and callous reopening of old wounds, Crowley would be scared, afraid, and lost. Who wouldn’t?

All of this rushed through Aziraphale’s thoughts in the time it takes to blink. With the briefest of side glances, Aziraphale noted Gabriel’s smug, holier-than-thou expression and grimly stored it away in his mental files of “Reasons To Smite Gabriel: Later”.

He’d had to add the “Later”. Because right now he needed to get Crowley out of here. And fast. He kept his focus on the cuffs binding him to his chair. Get out. Get Crowley. Get Crowley out.

But he also couldn’t let Crowley dwell on those horrid lies for one more second.

“Crowley, darling.” He said gently. “Please listen to me. What he said is not true.” Crowley’s eyes flicked to him for a second, then unfocused again, drifting back to staring into the middle distance. Aziraphale felt his own teeth begin to grind. DAMN Gabriel and his malicious tricks.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale repeated himself, even more gently than before. “He’s lying to you.” Although Crowley still seemed too lost to hear, Gabriel certainly did.

Gabriel swelled at that statement like an insecure pufferfish. “I do not lie!” He snapped.

Aziraphale spared him a scorching glance. “Oh, I beg to differ.” He said coldly. Snippets of what Crowley had shouted before at Gabriel echoed through his mind, and he finally connected some of the dots that had been bothering him for centuries.

“I think you like to say you fight for the truth, when really, you do the opposite. You like to fight for what’s comfortable. For you. And everyone else can jolly go to…well. Jolly well fend for themselves. Which, if I recall anything correctly, was not the reason we were put here.”

He leaned forward, almost unaware of the way the ice encircling his wrists had begun to steam and melt, sending mist flaring up into the harsh light of the Conference Room.

“And if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s bullies and—and liars.” He snapped.

The icy manacles snapped too.

Aziraphale was never quite sure how things happened next. He remembered The Incident in pieces. One was quite a clear snapshot of Gabriel’s horrified face. The next (after a series of blurry, hard-to-distinguish-images) was also Gabriel’s (still horrified) face, but now it (along with the rest of him) was embedded several yards away in the glass and marble wall of the Conference Room.

Time seemed to slow as Aziraphale reached Crowley, and then it crept and crawled in maddening wingbeats until he was able to tear his best friend free from the burning restraints and what remained of the muzzle. Getting across Heaven’s insane floor plan (really, what was the POINT in so many windows and glass walls?!) to the Globe only took a few moments, but it felt like all the ages of the world.

They vanished just before Gabriel’s bloodied fingers closed on Crowley’s blistered forearm. The foiled archangel gnashed his teeth at the duo’s narrow escape and roared out orders to the legions forming behind him. He knew where that traitor’s hidey-hole was anyway. And what kind of bookstore barely sold books, anyway?

He’d burn them out if he had to.

But none of that was on Aziraphale’s mind at the moment. From the moment he snatched Crowley up and away from that dreadful room, all the way back to the bookshop, Crowley—his best friend in the entire created and non-created cosmos—Crowley, his brave, brash, loud, dramatic, always-had-a-quip Crowley could only whimper the whole way home.

“Ah—ah—Azirahphale.” He slurred, somewhere between the stratosphere and London, his first words since Gabriel had—well. Started. “—h—h—hurts, Angel. Hurts, hurts, hurts. Hurtsss.”

Aziriphale gave him a somewhat hasty, but nevertheless earnest kiss on the top of the forehead as they broke the sound barrier over the western half of Europe. “I know, dear. We’ll fix it.”

As they neared the bookshop, Aziraphale barely heard Crowley’s next whispered word over the blaring sound of London evening traffic. “C-c-c-caaan’t.”

“Oh!” Azirphale exclaimed, materializing in the center of his—their bookshop, the backdraft from his wings sending loose papers swirling across the floor. “Why ever not?” He asked, only just managing to sound worried instead of irritated. He was just so—so flustered. He’d never seen Crowley hurt this badly so quickly. And Heaven was on their way. To FIGHT them. He—very gently—set Crowley down on the nearest couch, made sure his head comfortably settled on the nearest pillow, then bustled around the shop, locking the doors, closing windows and drawing shades. THEY weren’t getting in here without a fight. THEY were NOT getting Crowley that easily. Not again.

He turned in time to see Crowley hiding his burned face and slitted eyes in the corner of the couch, ginger hair barely showing between the arm and the back of the comfy, worn furniture. “ ‘m…bad.” Crowley rasped, voice barely above a whisper. “F-f-fallen. You heard what he s-s-s-said. I’m…not right. Not good. Not anymore. Good thingsss can’t help me. An’ bad things w-w-w-won’t even try. ‘m….’m bad. And I…can’t get b-b-better.” His voice, if possible, got even quieter. Smaller. “I, I tried. F-for a l-l-long time, angel. I—c-c—can’t.” It broke on the last word.

Aziraphale left off securing the last window latch and was hovering over Crowley in a flash. He resisted the momentary temptation to summon his flaming sword and lay waste to Gabriel and all his ilk, and instead laid a careful, comforting hand on his friend’s head. “Crowley, my dear. Enough of that. We are going to have this conversation right now so both of us can then focus on your much-needed healing. You are not evil. You are not bad. You simply ask questions. You think for yourself. And goodness—well, I mean to say—in any case, everybody who isn’t a moron knows those are not bad things. Besides, do you think a—a—“ Aziraphale searched his mind for Gabriel’s words. He stumbled over them, but repeated them nonetheless. He had to destroy Gabriel’s false argument word for word, or he risked losing Crowley to the lies altogether. And he’d let himself be literally damned before he’d let that happen.

“Do, do you think, my dear, that a—oh what’d that twat say—that a, a “fallen, corrupted, and weak” demon would voluntarily risk the wrath of his superiors to stop a pointless Armageddon?”

The little he could see of Crowley’s face tightened in pain. Then his friend barely turned, just enough so that one yellow, slitted eye could peek open to peer back up at him.

“Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm.” Crowley said, his voice weak and unsure. “…n-nnnn…no?”

His answer was more of a question, but Aziraphale thanked his lucky stars for what he could get.

“Correct.” He beamed, and carefully reached out for the side of Crowley’s face. Crowley winced, almost instinctively, it seemed, and Aziraphale forced himself to keep looking unworried, collected, and competent. He’d be bawling his eyes out over what Gabriel had done, probably with a bottle or four of wine in the backroom sometime after this was over. Once Crowley was properly asleep and resting, of course. But now was not the time to indulge in personal hysteria.

However justified.

He concentrated on beginning to heal the wounds, on keeping infection and contamination and goodness-knew-what-else out and away from his friend. He’d suffered—and would suffer—enough already without all of that additional…well. Without all of that.

“How’re you feeling now?” He asked, unable to keep the hope out of his voice. Crowley made a ragged sound deep in the back of his throat. The burns had started to heal, but painful-looking blisters had developed over most of the skin, and Azpiraphale felt his own throat close up in sympathetic pain.

“S—s—still h-h-hurtsss, angel.” Crowley whispered. Aziraphale swallowed hard and—very, very carefully—kissed the top of his head again.

“I know.” He said sympathetically. “I know. But I promise, it will get better.”

Bursts of harsh light flashed across the windows of the bookshop, and Aziraphale felt the blood drain from his face as familiar winged figures, all in crisp, perfect suits, filled the street outside. Crowley winced at the sudden flares of light, and his dulling eye shut tight against the angry pulsing lights.

“Ah.” Aziraphale said, far more calmly than he felt. He stood up. Summoned the flaming sword into his hand.

He wasn’t afraid.

Furious, yes. Probably going to get disintegrated? Absolutely.

But they were NOT taking Crowley AGAIN.

He started making his way towards the door. Felt a pressure on his hand. Looked down to see one of Crowley’s badly burned ones latched onto it, mangled fingers painfully holding on to his own.

“Don’t go.” Crowley croaked, trying to get up. “Don’ be ssstupid, aaangel. I’ll…I’ll go.”

“You certainly shall not!” Aziraphale squeaked, eyes widening in horror as Crowley actually tried to sit up. He tried shaking Crowley’s hand off, but the demon’s grip only tightened. “I, I won’t let you get obliterated!”

“Sss—same goes…goesss for you.”

“Oh, bother!” Aziraphale huffed, feeling—of all things—somewhat peeved. They were both probably going to get painfully incinerated by some means or another in the next thirty seconds, and here they were squabbling about who would die in an agonizing manner first.

Typical.

A shadow at the door, blocking the harsh light. Gabriel’s stern profile. His voice, calling out.

“Aziraphale! Hand over the demon, and your punishment will not be prolonged!”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Aziraphale snarled, right as Crowley’s equally impassioned, if slightly weaker and raspy “SOD OFF!” rang out simultaneously through the shop.

Aziraphale looked back down at his friend. Bleary-eyed, shaking, pale as a—well. Almost pale as a ghost. If you didn’t count the weeping third degree burns. Damn it. He couldn’t leave him like this.

He put the flaming sword away. It wouldn’t have helped. Not against Gabriel, at any rate. And then he sat down on the chair next to the sofa, keeping Crowley’s hand in his.

“Well.” He said, far more briskly than he felt. “They’ll have to just come and get us both, then.”

Crowley looked at him with wide eyes, almost the same way he’d looked at him all those eons ago back in the garden, when they’d first met. Incredulous. Surprised.

Aziraphale smiled brightly at him. He would not let Crowley see how scared he was. Besides, he realized, he wasn’t really scared. Just…resigned.

He hadn’t thought it would end this way. But, he supposed, if it had to end, being with Crowley was not a bad way to go.

Epilogue the First

How hard, Gabriel was later heard to scream at the mustered choirs of angels under his command, was it to “—PUSH A BOOKSTORE DOOR OPEN? HMMM? WAS IT REALLY THAT HARD?!! HAD ANYONE, BESIDES HIMSELF, EVEN THOUGHT OF TRYING TO PULL IT OPEN?!! ANYONE?!!”

It was almost, a minor angel had offered, timidly, in the echoing silence that had thundered through Heaven’s halls after Gabriel’s outburst, as if something—or SomeOne—hadn’t…allowed it to open. No matter what they’d done. They hadn’t been able to do a single thing to the tiny little bookstore. It had been…strange? Unexplainable?

Ineffable. Someone murmured. Gabriel whirled to find the voice, snarling, fists clenched and eyes wild, and only managed to redirect his searing blast of holy fire upwards and sideways through the already damaged glass ceiling at the last possible minute.

The Celestial Choirs had all found Somewhere Else To Be after that, and Gabriel was left alone, scowling, holding his bruising face in the middle of a completely ruined Conference Room.

Ineffable. He glowered to himself. As if the Almighty had taken those two—THOSE TWO—under their protection.

Surely not.

Epilogue the Second

“—so I think, in the end, my dear, if you stop hating yourself, at least a little, you might be able to resist the unpleasant effects of sanctified water! It’s not like you’re all evil, you know.”

“Oh, creation help us.” moaned Crowley from his sanctuary on the sofa, surrounded by gently waving plants and cushioned by far more pillows than the couch could reasonably expect to hold.“You’re babbling on about angels—fallen or otherwise—and self-actualization?” He fought for a moment, managed to get himself up on one still-bandaged elbow, pointed an accusing finger at his friend. “In short, you’re telling me your idea to speed up my recovery is to follow an idea you saw on the telly?”

Aziraphale shrugged, finished arranging the overflowing tea tray, and came round towards the sofa with it, a pile of biscuits wobbling precariously on the edge. “I don’t know, but it is quite a good show. You should try it.”

Crowley’s voice went higher. “AMERICAN!! TELLY!!” He roared, and the houseplants near the couch trembled as if caught in a high wind.

Aziriphale hid a smile. Cantankerous Crowley meant a healing Crowley. Besides, anything to get his spirit back up.

“I don’t see anything wrong with it taking place in Los Angeles.” He said cheerily. “Besides. I thought you liked the American West Coast.”

“DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO CAME UP WITH THE PITCH FOR THAT SHOW?! LISTEN HERE, ANGEL, I’LL TELL YOU EXACTLY HOW I—“

“Oooh, look, new episodes!” Aziraphale burbled happily. “Huzzah! And here I thought it’d been cancelled before its time!!” He readied the remote.

Crowley dramatically tried to smother himself with pillows, but was unsuccessful. “Uuuuuuuggggghhhh.” He moaned. “There’s no way this is going to be quality entertainment.”

Aziraphale smiled as American rock music and a jaunty, cocky television theme began emanating from the television. “You’d be surprised, my dear.”

#I'M WRITING AGAIN #HOORAY #good omens #hurt/comfort #also on ao3 under same title #crowley #aziraphale #hurt crowley #protective crowley #BAMF aziraphale #Gabriel is a dick in this one #torture #emotional hurt/comfort #whump #kind comments are always appreciated!#messages too!

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Name Calling (40)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU, DEADPOOL & X-MEN

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -

Vernichtung - Destruction, Annhialation.

It was what you were named and what you were supposed to be but the only thing you wanted to destroy was Bucky Barnes.

The ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on enjoying it quite so much.

But when your past catches up to you in the form of the mad scientist who made you, Bucky might be one of the only things that can save you from yourself. You can’t run from what you are but with his help, you can fight back.

Current Word Count - 114,250

MASTERLIST or Read on Ao3

Moodboard by @talesofakindredspirit

Chapter Forty - Growth

“What do you remember about the last couple of days?” Bucky asked you quietly.

“It’s all fuzzy, like it really happened when I was a kid. I can remember pieces. I remember there being lots of bubbles in the bathroom and my dad laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes, I remember Sam wearing a tiara and drinking fake tea from a teacup and Wanda and Vision taking me for a walk. I remember feelings more than actual events I think.”

“I know it was barely two days but it felt like a whole childhood. There was so much love. Everyone made it so special.” You said, your eyes shining.

“Except me. I avoided you.”

His face was heavy with guilt and you didn’t have the words to make it better so you stood on your tiptoes and gently kissed him. He didn’t respond straight away but finally his lips parted slightly as they moved in sync with yours.

“James you’re allowed to be weirded out by seeing me running about as a toddler. It’s not a failure, you didn’t let me down. Besides, I replaced you pretty easily.” You told him, mischief dancing in your eyes.

“You did what?” He growled.

“Didn’t you hear about Bucky Bear? I’m definitely keeping him.”

“You didn’t.” He groaned.

“Everyone loves Bucky Bear.” You laughed.

“I don’t.”

“That might be a problem.” You admitted.

“Doll you have the real thing, you don’t need a bear.” He said, wrapping his arms around you to illustrate his point.

“But I love him!” You protested.

He released you and pushed you away with a scowl and you laughed loudly at his reaction.

“I love you more.” You promised.

“Hmmph” Was the only response.

“Alright, I’m going to go see everybody else. Let them know I can legally drink again.” You said, still laughing.

“Wait.” He asked and you paused at the door.

“I love you too. And I’m tired of something getting in our way when we’ve barely started. Run away with me for the weekend.”He asked.

Your jaw dropped.

“I know a place where we...”

“Yes.” You interrupted.

“Really?” He looked as close to deliriously happy as Bucky ever did, it was all in the eyes.

“Really.”

He smiled so brightly then that you couldn’t breathe at the beauty of it and just surged forward to wrap your arms around him and let him kiss you until you couldn’t think. It wasn’t until you heard Tony yelling from your room in a panic you pulled away.

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

When you had reappeared as your adult self your dad had hidden the flash of disappointment on his face behind a grin and dragged you to the lab.

“Bruce!” He called.

“Tony if she sneezed again I swear... Oh.” Bruce was startled to see you waving sheepishly at him.

He shook off his startlement and hustled over to you, and in his eagerness to make sure you were ok practically ended up making you deep throat a thermometer.

“This is fascinating. To have the chance to study the effects of rapid de and re aging on a human.” He said to himself as you gagged.

Tony was hovering like the overly concerned parent he was. Bruce rolled his eyes at you and you stiffled a snort of laughter.

“Is she ok? Do you feel ok? Does anything hurt?” Tony asked.

“I’m ok, I feel fine, nothing hurts. I actually feel really good.” You assured him.

“I’d like to run some basic tests, just to be sure.” Bruce told you and you nodded your assent.

“Go for it Dr Banner.”

“Are you hungry? Shall I get you some breakfast?” Tony asked, already heading for the door.

“I’m not a toddler I can get my own... actually yeah, can I have coco pops?” You responded as he strode away and he shot you a thumbs up.

“Don’t start.” You murmered at Bruce who was giving you a look of wry amusement.

“Before Tony comes back, do you want me to give you a booster shot on your contraceptive? Just in case?” Banner asked you subtly.

You nodded meekly.

“Can I take some blood?” He asked.

“Banner, I trust you. You are the only scientist in the world I will ever let study me, you don’t have to keep asking. Just tell me what you need.” You reassured him with a kind smile.

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

“You’re back!” Sam crowed, picking you up and spinning you around.

“Aww, I’m going to miss having little you around.” Clint pouted.

“Clint I’ll still come with you to toy stores. And I’m keeping the lego sets you bought me.” You told him.

“So you remember everything?” Natasha asked.

“Not everything. It’s all childhood memories to me, I remember stuff but not it all and it’s fuzzy.” You admitted.

“Ok, so what do you remember?” Wanda pushed.

“Stop fishing guys.” You sighed and they looked at each other.

“I know you’re all soft, I know you all adore me and I know that Friday has all the proof.” You said smugly.

“Well now that you’re back, we need to decide what to do about Loki.”

“Little one, I can not apologise enough for my brothers actions but I swear he did not mean to harm you.” Thor said, his eyes imploring you to forgive them.

“I’m not mad. Not anymore. As far as I’m concerned it was just a really good prank.” You admitted.

That announcement didn’t go down well with anyone.

“He’s still evil.” Tony insisted.

“Is he though? He had the power to turn me into a child, he could have done something much worse. I think the fact that he didn’t turn me into a slug and squish me kind of proves he’s not evil. He’s just a dick.” You scoffed.

Thor sidled over to stand beside you since you were the only one on his side.

“It doesn’t change what he’s done in the past.” Clint argued.

“He could be telling the truth about that not being his choice. And think about it, he deliberately and carefully pissed off The Avengers. He masterminded his own defeat.” Sam jumped in.

“You weren’t even there.” Tony snapped.

“I’m not suggesting we welcome him with open arms, but we have to at least consider the fact he might not be evil. Put him on probation. I’m sure Strange can cook some way of keeping an eye on Loki up.” Sam rebutted.

“Dad I know you hate him but he wouldn’t be the only person in this room to get a second chance.” You pleaded.

“Really? Do you have a thing for reforming killers? Should I be expecting you to fall in love with Loki next?” Tony scoffed.

“No, I still think he’s an asshole and I fully plan on pushing him down the stairs but he is Thor’s brother, I think we owe it to Thor to try and Loki deserves a chance to show us who he really is. If he screws up then we... I don’t know how you kill a god, fire him at the sun?”

“I trust your judgement.” Sam said, agreeing with you and coming to stand with you and Thor and you felt Bucky move to stand behind you, silently making his allegiance known.

“I was given a chance to do right after I had done so much wrong. I support them as well.” Wanda said, joining your side.

It was you, Thor, Sam, Bucky and Wanda vs Clint, Natasha, Steve, Bruce and Tony.

Vision seemed unsure.

“Logically it is unlikely this situation will end well.”He stated.

“They’re right. Loki might be as evil as we think but he might not. We should be careful but give him a chance.” Bruce sighed heavily and shuffled over to you with an apologetic look at Tony.

“This isn’t a democracy and even if it was, not everyone is here.” Tony sputtered.

“Spiderman’s with me.” You said, holding your phone as you shot off a text.

Tony glared at you.

“Lang will be with us.” Clint insisted.

“Nu uh.” You rebutted.

“Enough.” Steve said calmly.

You all turned to look at him.

“Loki can’t be allowed to walk away from everything he has done. People died, good people. But... If there’s a chance he was a victim in that situation it would be unfair and hypocritical of us to punish him.” The Captain decided.

“So what do we do Cap?” You asked.

“He can stay IF he agrees to our terms. We’ll have Strange help us with a way to moniter Loki’s use of magic while he’s on a probationary period. And nobody outside of this team can know about this.”

“I agree to your terms.”

There were a few unhero like shrieks of surprise (from you) as Loki appeared in the middle of the room.

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

You were sat on your bed flipping through the photo’s the team and Friday had sent you. Your day of childhood was well documented.

“Friday. Can you have these printed out for me?”

“Of course Miss Stark.” She answered.

You stopped on a photo of you squished between Tony and Pepper, all of you mid laugh. Absentmindedly you toyed with your locket, the one Pepper had given you on your birthday and you hadn’t taken off since.

You finally worked up the courage to do something you should have done a while ago and opened Pepper’s contact info on your phone, deleting her name and replacing it. She was no longer ‘Pepper Potts’ in your phone or your heart. She was ‘mom’.

“Kit Kat, can we talk?” Tony asked you, knocking and poking his head through your bedroom door.

“I’m sorry we were on opposite sides of the argument again but you were the one who gave me a chance at life. I can’t deny that to somebody else if there’s even the smallest chance they are innocent.” You told him.

He came and sat on the end of your bed.

“I know, I’m not mad. I let Barnes in, I can let Loki in. That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“Oh, Is this about the accords?”

“No.”

“Bucky?”

“No.”

“Deadpool?” You were running out of guesses.

“Kit Kit I know who your biological father is. I didn’t try to find out, I swear. I just sort of stumbled across the information.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want to lie to you. If you want to know, I’ll tell you. If you don’t, I’ll forget what I know and never bring it up again. Either way, I’m still your dad. No matter what you do or don’t sign or how many psychopath's you adopt.” He told you.

You bit your lip as you tried to stop your eyes from watering.

“Kit Kat I love you, I do. I always will. It doesn’t matter if you’re a child or an adult, you’re my child.”

You gave up on trying to be strong and tucked yourself into his side, letting the tears fall.

“Do you want to know who he is?” Tony whispered.

This was a huge decision and you couldn’t help but feel it would change everything no matter what you did. But you had Tony, you had a dad. Did you really need to know? Did you want to?

You opened your mouth and answered with one word.

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

Even I’m annoyed at that cliffhanger and I wrote it...

Short chapter but it’s setting up a lot of stuff. Yes this means Loki is officially sticking around for a while.

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first @thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat @inquisitor-selvala @the-corruptor @iovher @kendrawr-kitkat @phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat @buckitybarnes @fairislesheets @angieptt @meganjonezzzz @dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty @memanda17 @krystallynx @theonelittleone @piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes @tarastudiesalot @captainamericasbeard @dropthepizza346 @jaynnanadrews @likes-to-smell-books @drdorkus @life-wanderer @metalarmlover @animegirlgeeky @jsmith509

#bucky x reader #hattersmarvelverse #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader

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magibigbang-blog · 5 years

Text

Fic Summaries Post

We apologize for the delay in this post- between people dropping and unforseen health circumstances in the mod team, things were a bit delayed. Thank you so much for your patience! The artist claim form will go up tomorrow at 1 PM EST, so that people have a chance to read over these and decide which fics they are interested in drawing for.

With no further ado, let me present our stories!

FIC 001 Ships: Sinbad/Judar Characters: Sinbad, Judar Rating: M Warnings: Graphic Violence Additional Warnings: Mentions of slavery and abuse Summary: Somewhere between the painful burn of his clogged lungs and the bloody petals falling from his lips, Judar remembers a distant past and a broken slave with exquisite golden eyes. A slave who now is the mighty king of Sindria. soulmate!AU, Hanahaki!AU

FIC 002 Ships: Sinbad/Judal Characters: Judal, Sinbad Rating: M Warnings: no major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: Nothing in particular, I’ll keep you guys updated as I continue to work. The rating might be explicit depending on... how explicit I decide to go with nsfw :’). Summary: In a world with no use for kings nor magi, Judal has never felt more alone. It’s only the rumors of a certain king’s return to the world that reignite his sense of purpose; however, it is the fate he so desperately abhors that brings Sinbad back into Judal’s life, and he finally begins to understand the love of fate.

FIC 003 Ships: Juhaku, background Alimor & Hakuei/Paimon Characters: Hakuryuu and Judal Rating: T Warnings: No Major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: none Summary: Modern Figure Skating AU. Ren Hakuryuu is an up and coming prospect in the figure skating world. He’s been trained all his life by his coach and aunt, former champion Arba, to surpass her and gain prestige for himself in their chosen sport. However, his first attempt to move onto the world stage is soured when he meets Judal, an equally skilled skater who is seeking the exact same thing and being coached by Solomon to achieve it. Much like their trainers, each of them is instantly put off by the other and are determined to leave everyone else in the dust in pursuit of the gold medal. However, as they train for competition, they find their fierce rivalry developing into something much deeper.

FIC 004 Ships: Judal/Hakuryuu Characters: Judal, Hakuryuu Rating: T Warnings: No archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: Does it count as major character death if one of the characters is dead before the story starts? Also mentions of magic bullshit violence/death/ghosts Summary: Hakuryuu stumbles upon a dead amusement park, now inhabited by the ghosts of past patrons, magical creatures, and Judal, a former employee who PROBABLY should have died from all the bullshit he did in the park after hours. Hakuryuu is clued into the world of magic and has run from his mother's magical cult, with plans to gather power and fight back.

FIC 005 Ships: Sinbad/Ja'far Characters: Ja’far, Sinbad, and a small orphan girl... Rating: Not Currently Sure Warnings: Graphic Violence Additional Warnings: I’m not entirely sure what I want to do yet in terms of darker content, but there could potentially be disturbing themes or imagery, as well as physical harm to either an animal or a child... Summary: In the wake of loss, Ja’far finds himself incapable of moving on in his life. Drakon, concerned by his lack of self care, relieves him of his work and insists he travel. Upon heading to the only land untouched by his former fiancé’s legacy, however, Jafar learns he can’t truly outrun his despair. Mistania, instead of a new start, brings him a stranger with the exact face and voice of a man he once thought dead. Now, set into the turmoil following a revolution, he’s on the run with an amnesiac, a dog, and refugee princess. What has his life become... Longer summary/planning document can be found here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Az6dKCZOM3hQkAtzvWo-VsK9MkjiSvqfVkOIE7_N1qE

FIC 006 Ships: Kouen/Judal, Sinbad/Ja'far Characters: Kouen, Judal, Gyokuen, Kougyoku, Kouha, Koumei, Hakuryuu, Hakuei, Sinbad, Ja'far Rating: T Warnings: No Major Archive Warnings Apply Additional Warnings: None Summary: When the only way to access his inheritance is to get married, Kouen has to turn to Judal, his right-hand man. Kouen will do anything to protect his family, but falling in love with his new husband makes it just a bit more complicated.

FIC 007 Ships: Gyokuen/Hakutoku Characters: Gyokuen, Arba, Hakutoku Rating: M Warnings: No Major Archive Warnings Apply Additional Warnings: Some sexual content, unsure of how explicit it will be Summary: Growing up as an orphan, Gyokuen wanted nothing more than to have a family of her own. But being a person who regularly starts fights, it was unlikely for her to get married. That is, until a traveller named 'Toku' expressed interest after she beat him in a fight. But that was just the beginning of her problems as soon, a curse her family had been harboring comes to haunt her, the very same curse why she was abandoned in the first place. And that curse has a name; 'Arba.' As time went on, 'she' claimed more and more of her family's lives and Gyokuen cannot do anything but watch as she killed them with her own hands.

FIC 008 Ships: SoloShe, AlaKou Characters: Aladdin, Kougyoku, Solomon, Sheba Rating: G Warnings: No Major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: none Summary: Post-Final Arc! It shouldn't have been possible, but in front of Aladdin stood King Solomon and Queen Sheba. Something gone wrong with the Rukh, but Aladdin's just happy he gets to meet his parents.

FIC 009 Ships: Gen, with some Badr/Esra Characters: Sinbad, Kil, Yamuraiha, Maader Um Mariadel, Falan, Arba, Ja'far, Badr, Esra, Fatima, Masrur, Mystras Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings apply Additional Warnings: Canon typical violence, abuse, guns, starvation, eating disorder mention Summary: Thousands of years after the events of Magi, Sinbad was reborn and lives his life as a High-school student in New Remano. When he meets a mysterious girl with a link to a past that he cannot remember and discovers a plot against him he must fight to stop history from repeating.

FIC 010 Ships: no ships expected, potential for otome game style harem teases Characters: Kassim, Kouen, Koumei, Kouha, Hakuryuu Rating: T Warnings: No major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort Summary: Kassim lives and stays in Balbadd as it's reformed by the Kou Empire, which has moved in as canon. He approaches the princes to change Balbadd back and ends up working with them (begrudgingly) to aid Balbadd's integration. This allows him to interact with them, his own people, and help work out the hidden scars of the royal family. Now that he's finally talked to his own family, he doesn't want to see the one in charge of his home destroy themselves and everything around them.

FIC 011 Ships: Gen, maybe some ship tease for Ja'far/Masrur, Ja'far/Drakon, and obviously, Ja'far/Judar. I suppose there could also be hints of Ja'far/Sinbad, due to some reminiscing about the past--however, I want the artist to know that I am trying to write Ja'far as a person who is learning to become more independent and self-motivated, rather than motivating himself with Sinbad's goals and pining constantly for Sinbad's return. Characters: Ja'far, Judar, and supporting/somewhat major roles from every ex-general of Sindria. Any other characters would have brief appearances. Rating: T Warnings: Graphic Violence (canon-typical) Additional Warnings: Canon-typical violence Summary: The world has changed and there's work to be done. With the shifted landscape, changes in leadership, and the departure of a certain king, there's a never-ending stream of challenges to be overcome. Oh, and the brat magi of Kou has up and vanished without a word of warning. Well, Ja'far is sure they can do without. Like with all cockroaches, he's a pest that always turns up eventually. And besides--he's far more concerned about the black cat he stumbled upon in the gardens, found wounded and mewling in hunger. Sure, its personality is a bit aggressive, and it claws him every time he tries to pet it, but that's only natural for such a frail, scared little animal, likely separated and lost from its mother. And he's always had a soft spot for cats, as Drakon would say… The first chapter will be from Ja'far's perspective and the rest is Judar begrudgingly witnessing the events through his cat body and getting used to his short bout as a cat. Basically, this fic will explore the changed/re-emerging relationships between Ja'far and the other ex-generals after the end of the final arc, and will attempt to explain how Judar and Ja'far--two polar opposites that fell in hate at first sight some years ago--reach a mutual understanding and tolerance of one another in this new world. I definitely do see this as a multi-chapter fic that will stretch beyond 10k words and the required scope of Big Bang!

FIC 012 Ships: Gen Characters: Hakuryuu Rating: Not currently sure Warnings: No major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: Canon Death, and Canon Violence Summary: Hakuryuu wondered what his place was with his family before his family massacre as he was the youngest son. Even now with his new siblings, he still struggles to find a place among them. With meeting Alibaba and the other he felt as if he had finally gain a place where he can be himself but again he stuggled to find himself accepting the hand he was dealt and goes off with Judar.

FIC 013 Ships: Gen, potential background sphintitus Characters: aladdin, ja'far, scheherazade, yunan, ugo (as a cat), yamuraiha Rating: T Warnings: No major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: this deals w the aftermath of living under the influence of a cult, so certain gaslighting/brainwashing/false worship fall under it. specific ptsd, possibly, and panic attacks, with adjusting to normal society. Summary: modern au. deals with aladdin, after the cult al thamen is disbanded, and the only life he's ever known getting thrown on its head.

#magi big bang #magibb2019 #mod post #fic summaries

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arcticdementor · 5 years

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Four feminist law professors at Harvard Law School have been telling some alarming truths about the tribunals that have been adjudicating collegiate sex for the past five years. Campus Title IX tribunals are “so unfair as to be truly shocking,” Janet Halley, Jeannie Suk Gersen, Elizabeth Bartholet, and Nancy Gertner proclaimed in a jointly authored document titled “Fairness for All Students.” That document followed up on a previous open letter signed by 28 members of the Harvard Law School faculty in 2014 arguing that the updated sexual assault policy recently installed at Harvard was “inconsistent with some of the most basic principles we teach” and “would do more harm than good.”

I recently profiled Gersen and her colleagues in a piece for the Chronicle of Higher Education recounting their effort to defend the “most basic principles we teach” against a movement that is working tirelessly to subvert them. It is significant that they speak from within that movement—the feminist movement—not just because this gives them a margin of credibility within a discourse that tends to assign standing on the basis of identity, but also because their intimate knowledge of the antecedent and ongoing struggles within feminism helps them to understand the intellectual roots of what is happening, and where those ideas are taking us.

Though the four women find themselves opposed to visible tendencies within the movement, no one can doubt their standing within it. They are important theorists and practitioners who have made crucial contributions to historic feminist reforms. They represent a strain of longstanding internal critique that is native to the movement itself. Collectively, they have a stern message about the present course of the movement: As Halley, writing in the Harvard Law Review about a case in which a loud demand for punishment accompanied indifference to the guilt or innocence of the accused put it, “We have to pull back from this brink.”

…

When I spoke with her in her office in Cambridge, Massachusetts, Gertner acknowledged that activists seeking to combat sexual violence had resorted to extreme measures out of a justifiable sense that they were addressing a harm that had been ongoing for decades without remedy. “Exhorting people had not worked, nothing had worked,” she said.

But she also described with astonishment a training session she had attended in which the concept of “trauma-informed investigation” was taught. “There was one slide that was extraordinary—it said that if there is a story with inconsistent details that seem to shift from one telling to another, that reflects post-traumatic stress disorder, period. I thought, oh my goodness. Well, of course it might. It might also reflect lying! That they would present one side without even considering the other was extraordinary to me.”

…

Whether judicial powers to surveil and punish are suitable instruments for the pursuit of an emancipatory feminist vision has always been a hotly contested debate within feminism itself. What has long been debated in theory has now been released into the world through interventions aimed at changing that world through an embrace of such instruments. “Feminists now walk the halls of power,” Halley notes in the introduction to her co-authored 2014 book, Governance Feminism. The movement has transitioned, in Halley’s term, “from the megaphone to the gavel,” and must, Halley argues, take on an ethic of responsibility and scrutinize the effects of what they have wrought.

Together, these professors’ work on the new campus sex bureaucracy, consisting of law review articles, open letters, manifestoes, and op-eds written both singly and jointly, is an exemplary instance of the project Halley proposed. That work looks closely at the empirical reality of what has been wrought and reaches a conclusion about its implications. Taken as a whole, the work provides a kind of Rosetta stone of the broader social justice movement of which its subject is a part. The work is sober and restrained and presented without drama precisely because the story it tells is so upsetting and implausible to outsiders, and thus prone to accusations of hyperbole. The gravamen of their work is that, whatever their stated or actual intentions, Title IX feminists are working to superannuate the meaning of consent and embed within the criminal law a principle, subversive to the foundation of the law, that the feelings of the accuser determine the course of the law without reference to any other material fact. As Catharine Mackinnon, the progenitor of the school of feminism from which this movement proceeds, once put it, “Politically, I call it rape whenever a woman has sex and feels violated.”

Title IX activists, including those operating within the Office of Civil Rights in the Department of Education—from whence they issued a letter in 2011 threatening to cut off federal funds from universities who did not get tough on sexual assault—have put in place a system in which it is “commonplace to deny accused students access to the complaint, the evidence, the identities of the witnesses, or the investigative report, and to forbid them from questioning complainants or witnesses,” as Gersen described it in The New Yorker magazine. Though administrative law proceedings routinely rely on constructions of due process that fall well short of those pertaining to criminal proceedings where the freedom of the accused is at stake, in practice the totality of measures adopted by a great many colleges made mounting a defense all but impossible.

The system promulgated a definition of sexual misconduct so expansive that it “plausibly covers almost all sex students are having today,” as Gersen wrote in an article in the California Law Review. It required investigators to start by believing accusers (rather than starting from a place of impartial neutrality), instructed them against using a “reasonable person” test to constrain their judgment of whether sexual conduct regarded as unwelcome constitutes harassment or assault, and required them to reach a finding of wrongdoing if they felt confidence that misconduct had occurred greater than 50+1 percent. It housed the function of adjudicating individual cases within the same office tasked with ensuring compliance with federal government mandates demanding stronger enforcement—aligning incentives in ways hostile to the accused.

A system so designed is “overwhelmingly stacked against the accused,” as Gersen and her colleagues wrote in their original petition. “In this very large continuum of unpleasant interactions that can happen, at some point you draw a line and say, ‘These are consensual, these are not consensual,’” Gersen told me. “Lots of people disagree about where to draw the line. But most people would want to draw a line so there is such a thing as consensual sex.”

…

Federal judges have left no ambiguity about whether the conduct of the campus sex crimes bureaucracy is “consistent with the most basic principles we teach.” In nearly 200 cases, students suing their universities for violating their due process rights in campus proceedings have obtained favorable rulings or settled out of court, vindicating what Gersen and her colleagues have maintained from the outset would be an inevitable outcome. And yet when Gersen and her colleagues roused 28 of their peers in opposition to a policy that the courts were sure to repudiate back in 2014, they stood alone in all of American academia.

It’s worth lingering for a moment on this bizarre tableau. Here, we had a group of professors at the most prestigious law school in America making standard critiques of reforms whose ends the professors shared but whose means were marred by deficiencies that any minimally informed person could see, and that experts like themselves were authorized to identify. These deficiencies would in practice produce hundreds of unjust rulings and undermine the legitimacy of the effort at reform itself. Those professors said aloud what few of their colleagues would have disputed in private. Yet they nonetheless found themselves isolated, unable to influence the course of events beyond their own subsection of the university and were accused of being “on the side of rapists,” as Gersen put it. Gersen and her colleagues wrote up their own version of a policy that the Department of Education’s Office of Civil Rights found to be compliant with their demands—one that balanced the right of the accused and the accuser in a manner more likely to survive the scrutiny of federal judges—and to actually just be more fair. Harvard University chose to quell their protest by applying this policy to the law school, while retaining the policy that 28 of their law faculty had declared publicly to be in violation of basic principles of law.

…

The story, I will argue in this and subsequent columns, is about the rise and bid for hegemony of a new ideology. This ideology is a successor to liberalism. It brandishes terms that superficially resemble normative liberalism—terms like diversity and inclusion—but in fact seeks to supplant it. This new regime, in which administrative power has been fashioned into a blunt instrument of deterrence, marks off a crucial distinction—between the liberal rule of law, and the punitive system of surveillance rooted in identity politics known as “social justice.”

#tablet #wesley yang #feminism #title ix #read the whole thing #due process #presumption of innocence

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