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lucytsukii · 5 months ago

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"Angel of the Woods and Viktor"

So it's just a scenario I thought of after seeing this, it's kind of silly but I hope you like it, it doesn't have to be canon anyway. Viktor and Neo is from @dackychansworldofhoshino ( @neosaskblog ) It's quite long, I hope whoever reads it likes it :3 And please, whoever reads it, tell me your opinion, my way of writing is a bit enigmatic and ends up confusing people, I don't want to make it a tiring read, so I would like to know opinions…

Ps: I stopped writing a long time ago, it might be bad, sorry ;w; 👉👈

𝙾𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚣𝚎, 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜, 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 "𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍𝚜".

𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛, 𝚅𝚒𝚔𝚝𝚘𝚛.

𝚅𝚒𝚔: "Here it is, the pleasant garden… It is always an ironic contrast compared to the mansion and its inhabitants... Hm?"

The boy was lost in thought when he heard the rustling of footsteps on the grass.

As you look towards the sound, further ahead of him was a pair of large wings with pearly feathers, which reflected softly with the light that peeked between the leaves of the canopy.

The familiar bearer of these iconic wings, Luck, was found bent over, digging beneath one of these trees.

𝚅𝚒𝚔: "Oh! Good morning Luck, isn't it a beautiful day?"

The angel seems to pause his action a little, not to pay attention to the braided boy, but to analyze and visualize what he needed to do.

After an unsettling silence, the featherhead speaks in a low, soft voice.

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "Morning, yes."

His lack of words was already usual, but that didn't discourage the braided boy, after all, the angel was still polite enough to answer him.

𝚅𝚒𝚔: "Working hard since early huh? Thanks for decorating the garden!"

With a slight nod, the two returned to the isolation of their own thoughts.

As Viktor continued to wait for his companion, Neo, certain memories of their previous conversation haunted his mind…

A new anxiety, which he had always ignored… Or hidden from himself.

The more ignorant, the more apparent these thoughts and worries seemed to wrap around him, suffocating him in a moment of slippage…

Suddenly, like a hand pulling him for support, a voice broke his reasoning, accompanied by a warm and comforting aura.

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "You know… I met a boy in the woods just like you… He got lost in his own thoughts and didn't notice that he was walking down the wrong path… Losing himself."

The angel would now be kneeling before the tree he had previously dug, he moved his hands over its branches, which at his touch slithered as if they were alive, sinking into the ground.

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "He realized his situation only when I called out to him, yet when I guided him back, he hesitated."

As if by magic, black stones, as dark as a starless night, appeared in the hand of the angel who arranged them inside a wooden enclosure around the beginning of the tree trunk.

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "It wasn't because he didn't want to go back, but because he was afraid, afraid of having to face his worries, what haunted him, alone… Fear caused by another feeling… I gave him a shortcut, to go back to his life without going down that path that made him get lost."

Viktor watched the angel stand up after finishing his work, watching him spin a small black stone between his fingers.

Still… Something in the back of the boy's mind told him that this wasn't right… Like a feeling of lack, something hidden in the story.

𝚅𝚒𝚔: "Shortcuts… They are not easy to do, you need to know the way to do it."

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "Not for me I can make them for me… But that's right, in that case I didn't walk his path, so it's not that simple to take a shortcut."

𝚅𝚒𝚔: "Then how-"

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "I took away the path from him, giving him only the end."

Silence settles in front of the two, the day remained the same, but the tension was real now… But again that voice breaks this.

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "Your situation… It's similar to his"

The angel finally opens his eyes, the warm and comfortable aura disappears, giving way to an experience that is deep within Vik, a weight of hostility surrounds the man in front of him.

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "Neither of you two should be here… Especially him… His mind may be strong, yet he was human and acts like one… A thin layer of evil he can become, both to the people around him, to himself, and to you."

Suddenly all the hostility disappears, giving way to a sigh from the feather-head, he placed his hand on his face.

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "Still, you're here, together… You're still together… Now tell me… If he remembers you, will it change anything…? He is with you now by his choice, because he… loves you… Do you think so little of his feeling that you think he'd think it's a lie? I've seen this feeling be the reason for worse things than believing lies…"

Lowering his hand, the angel still looked at the boy, with another tired sigh, he walked towards the boy and placed the stone he was holding in his hand.

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "The lost boy… After I took his path away, he got even more lost, and I don't know how he found "that" path again… He realized that even though it wasn't the same… It was still the same, and this time he followed it carefully so as not to lose it again, even so, he enjoyed the journey this time and didn't waste time worrying about losing it again, but rather in staying close to it."

After finishing speaking, the angel turns around, walking again through the grass in the garden.

𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚔: "Follow the tiled path to find him, he got lost on the way and is waiting for you."

Thanks for reading and sorry for writing so much! ;w;

Tag: @boiling-potato @justafriendlystranger @chipi-chupi-chips @googlyeyes-blogs

#uwu #my art #oc #oc's #my ocs #not my oc #my oc and not my oc #milkshake mansion characters #milkshake house #milkshake mansion #luck mm

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undertheopensky · 1 year ago

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Forging Tired

Whumptober Day 26: Working To Exhaustion

Characters: Four, Blue, Sky

Trigger warnings: None

Read on Ao3!

---

Sky doesn’t realise it until after dinner, but Four hasn’t banked the forge fires.

“I’m not done yet,” Four waves at the admittedly intimidating pile of repair work yet to be done. A couple of plates from Time’s armour probably need to be replaced entirely, they have such large holes in them.

“It’s getting real late. Don’t stay up too much longer, you need to get some sleep.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Body’s not tired.” Four flexes one arm and gives him a grin that looks so much like Wind Sky’s eyes cross.

“Maybe not,” they sure hadn’t done much physical stuff today, just run around the village resupplying and gathering information, “but your brain still needs rest.”

This time Four snorts. “The brain is fast asleep, but that’s okay, we don’t need it for this.”

No one asks any more why Four sometimes refers to himself in the third person or plural. At best, he’ll pretend you didn’t say anything, and at worst, he’ll look at you like you’re the strange one. The closest they’ve gotten to an explanation is an offhanded, sympathetic “Yeah, we get it,” when Time first told them to stop asking about his timekeeping, because it was a holdover from a quest too traumatic to describe.

So, slightly weird, probably a Quest Thing, doesn’t seem to affect him day-to-day.

That said Sky’s a little concerned about him working with hot metal with his brain asleep.

“Are you sure? We can wait another day or two before setting out, I’m sure Time won’t mind. We don’t want you exhausting yourself over this.”

Four makes a rude noise, which is out of character enough Sky blinks. “I think I know my limits well enough, featherhead. Besides, forging’s not that hard. I wanna take advantage of actually having all my damn equipment for once, and goddess knows we probably won’t be here long. Our shit needs a lot of maintenance done. Don’t worry about the noise. The forge’s been soundproofed since we were little. Go away and sleep, featherhead, you need it more than us.”

He shoos Sky from the forge, polite but implacably firm.

Sky can’t exactly argue. Four is the smith here, and he knows himself best. If he says it’s fine, Sky will just have to believe him.

And as promised, as soon as the heavy door swings closed, the sounds of the forge muffle to almost nothing.

---

With Sky finally gone, Blue feels the tension ease out of him. Finally, some peace and quiet. He loves his brothers, and he supposes the heroes they’re travelling with aren’t TOO bad, but sometimes he just needs time alone in the quiet with his own thoughts and his own projects. There’s not a lot of privacy on the open road, or in a head crammed full of four distinct people.

Vio struggles with it, too, Blue knows, as he sets up the next few pieces of metal to heat and shovels fresh coke into the fire. But unlike Blue, the nerd is soothed by late nights spent reading or taking the darkest hours of watch, where Blue needs to do things to calm the itch in his brain. Armour and weapons maintenance is great for that - but it’s not always quiet. And waking everyone up with his activities would very much defeat the point.

Then, once he’s got things set up, Blue sits down at the bench with pliers and wire.

The worst thing about Sky’s mail is that the links are an eighth of an inch larger than standard - than literally everyone else’s. Blue had had to make a winding rod specifically for his damn mail, and has to double check every time before starting repairs to make sure he’s pulling from the right patch of spares.

If he had more time, he’d just make him a mail shirt from normal links. Standardise them across the board, and improve Sky’s resistance to piercing claws. But he doesn’t - they don’t - and besides that when this is all over Sky will be going back to his home in the clouds with its stupid mail measurements and its barely-there monster attacks and he’ll have no use for the close-set rings of modern mail and they’ll never see him again -

The forge fires burn hot enough that Blue can pretend it’s the air making his eyes sting.

Mending mail is busywork, stuff to keep his hands occupied while he waits for things to heat. It needs doing, and if he does it here then he can rivet the rings shut properly instead of the temporary road fixes (shit he needs to check Twilight’s mail he knows he put in a patch at one point but doesn’t remember riveting it in, need to do that before they leave) but some things can only be done at the forge. Like the plates of steel he’s got resting to the side, waiting to be turned into a new piece of Time’s armour.

He should probably get started on that actually so Blue puts aside the mail and reaches for his tongs. A lot of this is just shaping, forming the metal to the exact dimensions and curvature of Time’s body, and then adding buckle straps and point anchors so it can actually be attached. This is the loud part, metal-on-metal ringing and echoing in the enclosed stone room and making his vision swim just a little. He has to pause to blink it away. Does his head actually hurt, or is it just more echoes from the hammer?

Doesn’t matter; he’s got work to do. Blue checks the first piece for fit and moves on to the second; best to get this heavy work done before he gets tired. Working the steel cold takes more effort, but makes it less brittle in the end. Kind of important, that the metal sheets guarding someone’s body don’t shatter under a stiff blow, turning them from a defense into a hazard. You can get away with working horseshoes and stuff like metal fittings hot and then quenching them down, but it’s not worth it with plate armour.

Once he’s got the base curve in place, he checks the lines he drew earlier before his vision started to wobble, then hunts down the blunted chisel he needs. This is the fiddly bit. Blue sets the metal down on the wooden block with the groove specifically for this task, lining it up with the drawn lines, and starts hammering out the ridges.

It’s time-consuming, but the raised metal redirects weapons to less vulnerable points. Blue’s seen a sword swing into an arm then slide off into empty air, instead of an armpit or elbow, because of these ridges. They’re useful.

Time didn’t have any, originally. And while he can’t say for sure - Blue suspects that if he’d had them on his armour that first time a moblin got the jump on him, its spear wouldn’t have slid past the plates into his side quite so easily.

Four’s been quietly upgrading it piece by piece ever since.

The vambrace is harder, more of a curve to force the steel into, but he’s long practised at getting stubborn materials to cooperate. Once it’s done, and added to the pile he’s making of Time’s shit, he pulls the pattern steel Red had spent all day folding and forge welding from the fire. Already the basic shape of it is there: the tapered tip, the length of the blade, the narrow throat and tang. Once it’s finished, it’ll be a dagger for Hyrule. His current one has been sharpened so many times it’s thin enough to use as a lockpick, and they want him to have something good-quality to replace it, something that will last him.

(Will last him beyond this time of portals and black blood, because getting new equipment in his time is so, so difficult and they never want him to go without ever again, and one knife isn’t much in the grand scheme of things but it’s something they can do, and they’ll do their goddess-damn best work on it for him.)

It still needs some more shaping before it’s ready to go under the whetstone, though, so Blue tucks it back in the fire and picks up Wind’s knife, the one with the loose hilt. How the sailor expects to get anything done when he has to hold his entire hand at right angles to keep the thing straight Blue doesn’t know. Apparently he’d been stuffing it with fabric scraps to stabilise it, which, great, now Blue has to dig them all out before he can decide if the hilt is at all salvageable.

It doesn’t help that his fingers are a little shaky. Shit. Maybe he needs a water break.

He sets the dubiously-fixable knife aside while he drinks. He doesn’t feel thirsty. Dry-eyed, maybe, and his throat aches from the forge air, but the water doesn’t really help. Still, hydration’s important.

A sudden clank makes Blue drop his cup, water scattering on the floor as he spins. The fire flares - oh. A coal had - split, or settled, and the still-dull blade of Hyrule’s dagger had shifted and struck the edge. It looks about ready to go again anyway, so Blue grabs it - with tongs! He’s not an idiot! - and starts hammering an edge into it.

As the blade flattens out and becomes more knife than bar of metal Blue takes care to bevel off both edges neatly. He flips it, to make sure he gets both sides, then flips it again to even it out. He wants the balance on this thing perfect, and if it takes a bit of fiddling, all the better. That way he knows it’s good. Blue holds it up, eyeing the straightness of the blade from the side, and then down the length of it, and nods to himself, moving to set it. Good. He’ll let it cool a little before heating it again, and -

Blue stumbles. The blade clangs down on the bench he’d meant to set it on gently, spinning away from the tongs and fortunately not hitting any part of him with the still red-hot metal. Fuck, he’d forgotten to pick up his cup. It’s a good thing it’s so hot in here that all the water evaporated off or he might have slipped. Fuck.

He checks the blade - fuck, he dinged it - puts it back in the fire, then picks up his cup to set it back beside the water barrel. The metal handle is painfully hot under his fingers. Although - he could do with more water. His eyes are stinging again.

Blue drinks, long and slow. The water tastes metallic, or maybe that’s just the forge air coating his tongue. It settles uneasily. Doesn’t matter - his stomach will get over it.

He fixes the dent made when he dropped the half-made dagger, hammering until metal fills the gap and then hammering it out even again to repair the edge. He also spends more time carefully squinting at it to make sure it’s still straight, so long that the metal goes dark and cold.

Then back in the fire it goes.

Blue gets back to mail repairs, working rings into place, then riveting them shut with scraps from broken links. He considers, as he works, if the long-handled riveting pliers could be made to fit into their tool pouch. They can’t bring along the whole forge, that would be silly, but this one thing? They already carry the cutting pliers to make links with so it’s not like they need anything else for the rivets, and it doesn’t need heat treatment -

He pinches a fingertip with the pliers and swears loudly, shaking it and resisting the urge to shove it in his mouth - his hands are covered in oil and coal dust. Squinting at it - no real damage - he shakes it one more time and picks up the mail patch he dropped. It stings a little, to apply enough pressure to hold the metal fabric. Actually -

Checking the dagger, he pulls it from the fire and rests it on the anvil to cool. This is always time consuming, heating and cooling the steel to normalise it before the final edge can be put on. Heat it, then cool it, then heat it again; all part of ensuring the blade isn’t brittle and will hold its shape and its edge for as long as possible. It’s familiar in a way so ingrained he can almost touch it, watching the metal change colour. Fading from yellow, through red, down to the still blisteringly-hot but normal appearance of steel.

Blue blinks, and finds himself sitting on his preferred stool, metal still cooling in his tongs. Shit. When did he sit down? He’s wasting time, here. Back in the fire, back to work, fingertip still throbbing faintly.

Half the plates on Time’s tassets got ripped off during the fight with the iron knuckle, which are fiddly and annoying but not hard to replace. Once he’s got them shaped and punched Blue is tempted to just hand the lot off to Time for the old man to stitch them in place. Teach him to get distracted watching Twilight’s sword form. Shit, there’s so many of them, too. Time’s lucky his leg was in few enough pieces that Hyrule and Warriors could put it back together.

Blue hammers out scale after scale. Get the curve right; adjust the tongs, hammer out the part they’d hidden; set the edge, set the ridge, set it aside, and grab the next one. He piles them up on the metal workbench; they’d be less annoying to work with if he could just pile them in a coal shovel and dunk them in the fire to soften them, but even if they’re small they’re still armour and he needs to keep them as supple as possible.

And speaking of it��s time to pull the dagger again. The tongs grab it, fumble it, dump it back in the coals, then grab it agin. Blue is very careful as he sets it on the bench. He has no desire to set his own boots alight. This is the last cooling phase, though, so he can let the forge fire die down. Finally. His eyes itch and ache in the hot, dry air. He’d rub them if he wasn’t - still - covered in forge leavings.

Punch the holes for Time’s tasset scales; set them in his pile to deal with in the morning. Finally get the hilt off Wind’s knife and decide it is salvageable, actually, if he glues in a wedge of cedar to fill in the split that was letting it get loose in the first place. How did Wind even do that? Rewrap it in leather strips and it’ll be done; another job for the morning. When his hands aren’t so shaky. He’s getting glue everywhere, ugh.

…does he need to pull the dagger again? No, wait, it’s already on the bench. Does it need to go back in the fire? …no, he already decided it was done. He reaches to grab it, half-intending to measure it up for the hilt and crossguard, but hesitates at the heat radiating off it. Right. Fresh from the forge. Doesn’t look hot, but definitely is. He’ll leave it for an hour or so.

Blue shakes himself, hard, feeling the pull of it in his neck and his forehead. His head aches, behind his eyes. There’s a fine grey fuzz at the edges of his vision. Right, with the forge fire dying, he needs a bit more light. Where’s Vio’s lantern…?

By the too-pale magical light, Blue works, and works, until there’s nothing left to do but wind more wire into chainmail rings and weave them into the cuts and gashes left by enemy claws and weapons, tamp down rivets and move to the next section until he needs to wind out more rings -

It’s endless and monotonous and he can feel the screaming under his skin finally starting to cool, as the fire burns itself out.

Something they do need, he thinks as he pulls out the temporary patch he’d put in Twilight’s mail tunic, is a store of fully-finished rings. Hammering out their linking points and punching rivet holes is best done on an anvil. Then, as long as they have a stock of scrap wire for rivets (inevitable, they’re constantly damaging mail), the cutters and the riveting pliers, they can do repairs that are just as strong as the original work itself. Once they run out of wire, well, that’s more of an issue. The drawing plate is much too heavy to bring along with them.

Blue seals up the last ring in Twilight’s mail and sets it aside, then hops off the stool to go in search of the metal rods he needs to make wire. He knows they left a whole stack of them somewhere.

In truth, most forging doesn’t require a lot of raw strength. The weight of the hammer and the drag of gravity does a lot of the work, and all you need to do is direct it. Blue’s got more muscle from wielding a warhammer, honestly. The exception, he thinks distastefully, is wire drawing. That does need some force, since you’re dragging a piece of metal through smaller and smaller holes, not stretching it so much as drawing it out longer and longer and thinner and thinner, and of course it’s metal, it doesn’t want to do that.

Blue finally finds the basket of rods on a low shelf behind a huge box of half-finished nails - Red’s doing, surely - and carries it to the draw plate. There’s certainly no moving the thing to anywhere else. It weighs more than he does at least twice over, solid iron plate set into a heavy stone base.

Choosing a rod, Blue hammers out a quick point, feeds it through a hole that’s just a little smaller than its current size, clamps it, and starts to pull.

His eyes burn. His head aches. His fingers sting, all the little places where slips and cuts and burns have piled up over long hours. Without his mind keeping track of eight timers at once, it’s free to focus on the physical, and oh, he feels so heavy -

Blue breathes deep, metal and coal dust and ash, and feeds the wire into the next hole.

---

Sky is unhappy but unsurprised to find the patch of floor allocated to Four empty.

Weak morning light streams through the curtains. It’s just enough to see by as Sky checks that Legend’s unmoving form on the bed is just due to stiffness and exhaustion, not something more worrying, and tiptoes around scattered bedrolls. Twilight cracks an eye as he’s stepped over.

“A’right there?” he checks, voice low.

Sky smiles. “Just seein’ who’s up.”

Twilight grunts and to all appearances goes straight back to sleep. For all he wakes with the dawn on the ranch, he does enjoy his sleep, when he can get it.

Sky empathises but he’s got a mission.

Through the shop windows he spots Wild outside, running through the carefully prescribed stretches that kept his scars limber. Once he was done with those, he’d be all up in Four’s kitchen, eager to make food more complex than could be managed over a simple campfire. Four even had an oven, which Wild had been very excited about.

Still, breakfast will come later. The forge door still stands closed, just as it had last night after Four kicked him out. Moving slow, Sky eases the heavy door open, hoping to find him passed out in a corner somewhere.

Instead Four is sitting upright at the workbench. The winding rod in his hands is familiar, though he’s moving far slower than usual, and his hands shake when he reaches for the pliers.

“Four, have you slept at all?” Sky asks, disappointed.

“Huh?” Four turns to look at him, and there’s a distinct pause before recognition flickers. “Oh, Sky. I’m nearly done with your mail. Or…” He squints at the links on the table. “No, mail’s finished. Spare rings. We’re always running out.”

“Sleep, Four,” Sky stresses. “Goddess - have you been working all night?” He eyes up the frankly ludicrous pile of mending that now sits on the other side of the bench from where it started, separated into neat piles by owner. And Four is still going - slowly cutting rings off the spiral, one by one.

“‘M fine.”

He changes tacks. “Four, c’mon. It’s time for breakfast. Wild will sulk if it gets cold, you know he will.”

Four blinks at him, visibly hazy with exhaustion, and finally, slowly, drags himself to his feet. He looks worse, upright. He’s pale and a little haggard, swaying slightly just standing in place. Goddess. He’s going to be an utter wreck today, and they’re supposed to head out for the Castor Wilds later. Maybe Sky can convince Time to wait until after lunch and Four will revive some after a nap -

The smith’s feet tangle. Sky lunges to catch him -

Four catches himself with a quick shake of the head. “Phew, close one,” he mutters. He brushes past Sky into the rest of the house, steps suddenly quick and sure. “C’mon, Sky,” he calls over his shoulder, “help me keep Wild from dirtying every pan I own, I do not want to do dishes today.”

He still looks distinctly unwell over breakfast, but the shake in his hands, the sway in his step, the dull slowness of his eyes and responses - all that is gone like it was never there. He even smiles and keeps up with the conversation. Sky doesn’t know what to make of it.

(In the back of his mind, though, he wonders.)

#whumptober 2023 #linked universe #lu blue #lu four #lu sky #lu fic #skies writes #i swear this was supposed to be a whump fic but it turned into 3000 words of me infodumping about blacksmithing

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ditzyredrobin · 8 months ago

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The Knight’s Red Robin - Part 2

AK!Jason and RR!Tim finally start getting along. 😊

“Were you doing anything in particular when you were pulled through? Messing with tech, maybe?”

Jason shook his head, leaning back into the overstuffed couch. “Nope. Unless you count having your ass handed to you by bat-for-brains, I was innocent.”

Tim made a thoughtful noise, continuing his manic pacing. The kid looked unhinged, too long hair half out of its pony, sticking up at all angles, his eyes glazed over, focusing on something and nothing all at once.

His phone going off didn’t even phase him, just pressing the power button twice without checking the caller ID, sending it straight to voicemail. “Interesting. Where were you when all of this happened?”

Jay raised a brow. “You sure you don’t need to take that?”

“Yep,” Tim dismissed with a hand wave, jumping back to the topic at hand. “We should go back tonight to the site of the portal. Maybe there will be some clues as to how you got through or maybe the tech our Jason was involved in.”

With any luck, it might still be there, whatever it was. He knew it was slim to nothing but worth a shot.

Jay grunted, “Don’t you think Dickhead is going to get a little suspicious you’re dodging his calls?”

Tim paused, turning to Jay with an unnervingly nice smile, the kind his mother wore just before tearing into someone. “Whatever Dick has to say is of no consequence to me. He’s had plenty of time to talk up until this point so, as far as I’m concerned, he can take his concerns and shove them.”

Dick wasn’t his brother, he never had been. Tim had just a place holder until something new and shinier and slightly more murderous came along and he decided committing Tim to Arkham was his best option for dumping him.

Jay snorted, holding out his empty palms in the universal ‘I come in peace’ sort of way. “Look, I’m on your side, featherhead. Just thought I’d throw it out there. I thought you wouldn’t like anymore unexpected visitors.”

“Dick wouldn’t come here, not that Damian would let him.” He couldn’t remember last time he had actually seen Dick without the new Robin attached at the hip.

Jason made a noise of acknowledgment and Tim went back to pacing. “So, tonight the?”

”Tonight.” He agreed.

Part 1 , Last

#tim drake #red robin #jason todd #jason todd is the arkham knight #arkham knight #batman #my fics #my writing #dc comics #dimension shenanigans #the knights red robin

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hirsheyskisses · 2 years ago

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It Takes Two. (Prologue)

A Shocking Meet

RORONOA ZORO X READER

Prev. | Next.

Pirates.

They rule the seas, they claim the lands. The elders speak of ruthless men who take what does not belong, of women so cunning and sly they'd take all of your worth right from under your nose.

The mothers spoke of the Captains, who'd hang children and throw them to the seas, who'd slaughter your siblings and take it all away.

The children played games of Marine and Pirate, further settling the idea of what a pirate was.

Scum of the earth, scum of the sea. Some were even rejected by the sea: they'd eaten these magical fruits known as the Devil fruits. 'They have the eyes of monsters.. they have the power of the devil himself. Once you've eaten a devil fruit, there is no sea that will accept you.

So why? Why had you never seen one? Sure, it was unlikely they'd ever find this place, as even a Logue Pose could never lock onto it: this small mass of land was barely more than a hunk of beautiful rock. But surely, there'd be tales of pirates somewhere?

"So this is where you ran off to!"

Your head turned just a bit, smiling at the sight of him. A tall, snow white haired boy stood behind you with a smirk resting on his features.

"Shouldn't have been that hard to find me," you shot back, standing and moving away from the cliffs edge. The sound of the water crashing against the rocks was lulling: you and Killian both knew it.

"So sue me! You switch where you act all deep and wise every other day-"

Killian bumped his shoulder against yours. You raised your hands in defense, grinning. Your thoughts lay forgotten, "act? You forget, I aced the flying tests long before you did!"

"Flying has nothing to do with brains, Featherhead!"

"Oh really? I dare you to recite from memory the proper movements for a barrel twist."

Contrary to popular belief, there were many different forms of a barrel. Sure, the roll itself would always be a tuck and turn, but a twist was erratic. You had to know where and when to pull out and back into it, how fast to do it and how to launch an attack. It was, after all, an offensive maneuver.

"I'll take your silence as an answer, Kill."

"What difference does it make if I can't describe it? I can still do it!"

He glowered, and you couldn't resist a chuckle. "Because we'll have to teach the kids one day. Duh."

"Whatever. I'd make a way better teacher!"

"I'll leave you in the dust!"

"...the usual?"

Your banter quickly turned into the usual: a race. You'd known Killian for as long as you could remember. Both of you being born to a race of halfbreeds - taking on the features of a feathery, winged, tailed beast. There were a few of them on the island: the elders called you Viserons. Long ago, they were known for their speed, being the fastest amongst the dragons. Somewhere along the lines, a devil fruit had come into the picture - Elder Kisu had called it the human human fruit, and thus came fourth the humanoid Viserons.

"Let's go!"

3.. 2.. 1!

Wings flared into the air and a quick snap, both of you dove off the island peak. The wind whipped through your hair as you dove straight for the ocean water, snapping them open the second before you hit it and, with powerful thrusts, came height.

"A second later and you'd be a wet bird!"

Killian came to your side. His wings tips came to touch yours. They were such a beautiful snow white. Your tail curled inwards,

"We'll see who's a wet bird!"

The tufts of feathers in your hair pricked forward, and you continued to gain altitude, Killian hot on your heels. "Going higher won't help you, slowpoke!"

"Oh yeah? Remember that barrel twist?"

The clouds weren't even close to the limit. Breaking the cloud barrier in a puff of white wisp, and then you let your body fall.

Any mind to Killian was lost: falling, falling, falling. It was such a freeing feeling. Tucking your wings in you fell faster. The calculated wing beats not far above you told you Killian was gaining, but that wasn't important, now was it? The wind whipped through your hair, chilled your skin in such a delightful manner: now! Wings snapping open, you caught yourself, right wing extended slightly farther to ensure the real twist. A grin spread upon your features as your body began to even out with the horizon, your other wing snapping out to catch yourself.

"I'm not done yet!"

In a flash of black and white, Killian whizzed past you. A hand was on his hat to ensure it didn't go flying, and the chase was on.

You weren't sure how much time had passed. Could've been hours, could've been mere less than. Usually, the two of you would've turned back by now, but the wind had felt so good to chase away the lingering thought of what truly is a pirate? Your birth island, Shigan, was nowhere in sight. Which was fine- being a Viseron had more perks than just wings - your bodies were drawn to masses of land, and while judging of distance may not always be accurate, the strongest gut feeling was usually the closest island.

Nothing but endless blue water and cloudy gray skies was in your sight.

That was when you realized: where's Killian?

Slowing to a stop, you came to realize: he was nowhere in sight.

"Kill?"

You called out. Now that you'd stopped, you realized one thing. The gray clouds were no longer gray. They were a horrifying dark black. Each powerful pump of your wings was getting met with resistance by the growing wind, the air carrying the scent of rain and the tingle of possible lightning.

"KILLIAN!"

You shouted, head craning as you began to lose altitude. Had he turned back? Had one of you flown so far and lost sight of the other?

No time to worry about that. If Killian was ahead of you, he'd already be in the head of it. If he was behind you, he'd have long seen this so sudden storm.

"Crap.. I can't feel.. any land nearby." You cursed, the wind pushing you off balance. Head for the eye of the storm.

"Got no choice! You've got this!"

As you dove, your body was quickly growing soaked. Thunder roared in your ears, lightning flashed before your eyes.

Dive, twist, rise, dodge. Don't fight the wind, flow with it. Don't become a bigger target than necessary.

Dive away from the strikes of lightning, twist with the wind, rise from the giant waves. There wasn't a moment of peace as you fought against the roaring storm: one wrong move, and you'd be in the sea. It was bad enough trying to fly, with your feathers slowly but surely soaking through.

There was no end to the storm. Your clothes has long since been Soaked through, you couldn't see through the endless torrent of falling water, and to make matters worse, your skin began to tingle.

Well, shit.

You didn't even have time to truly feel the dread before a blinding flash of light sent you tumbling towards the unwelcoming sea.

"She's got wings! How cool!"

"Look at the tail, it's so long."

"She's drenched is what she is."

"I wanna touch her wingsss!"

"Back off, Luffy!"

"Give me some space, please! She's probably suffering from hypothermia.. need to see if there's any other injuries.. sanji! Can you go get some extra blankets? We need to warm her up."

"On it! Oh what a beauty she is.."

I can't recognize those voices. God, am I even awake? I can't feel my body right now.. what happened? I need to.. open my eyes..

It didn't take long for the true unconsciousness to take you once more.

. . .

"Gah.. my head.."

You groaned, hoisting yourself out of bed and rubbing the back of your neck. Shitty didn't even begin to describe how you felt: what happened? Why did it smell so weird in your room, more importantly?

"So you're awake. 'Bout time."

Turning your head, you were met with the intense gaze of a green haired man.

..green hair. Not white hair.

"...WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

It wasn't a face you recognized. In a split second you'd grabbed the pillow and threw it at the strange man's face, wings snapping open as you launched yourself at him.

"woah- HEY RELAX-"

A strong hand grabbed your arm and shoved you against the wall, and you winced in pain, but not hindering your knee to his groin.

Heh.

The man's eye twitched and you could almost see him questioning his very existence, though his grip never wavered. That was fine, you decided, as you clenched your teeth , fangs glinting,

"I'd suggest letting go. I bite."

"Why you little shit-"

"Zoro! Are you manhandling the patient?"

This time, a feminine voice spoke. The man released your wrist and backed away quickly: grumbling something about she attacked first before retreating back to his seat.

"I dunno where I am, but don't think I'll go easy on you! Where's Killian?!"

Your voice was rough, and the female came into view: a rather beautiful young woman with bright orange hair.

"Relax! We're not holding you hostage- we found you drifting on some planks during the storm. You're lucky, aren't you?"

Storm? Right. I remember that..

Your eyes narrowed and you sidestepped to keep both newcomers in your vision, feeling rather trapped. Getting a closer look at the room you were in, it was easy to recognize it as an infirmary. Nursing sheets, medicines, bandages- oh, hey, there's bandages on my head. Didn't even notice until now.

"...I mightve gotten struck be lightning. Or been too close to the strike."

You replied slowly, tail curling around your leg. "That doesn't explain to me who you are, where I am, or why you saved me."

"Of course, where are my manners? I'm Nami, and the brute over there is Zoro. He might be a little scary looking, but he's really just a big idiot."

"Brute? She's the only brute! She kicked me in my nuts!"

You watched Nami inhale a breath, cast a glance at you, and offer the most amused smirk she could. For what its worth, now that you were awake, you felt a little bad. But apologies would have to wait until after you figured out their intentions.

"Of course she did! Waking up to the sight of a strange man can do that. Anyways. You're on our pirate ship, the Going Merry and-"

"..PIRATE SHIP?! YOU'RE PIRATES?!"

You intervened, instantly backing yourself into the wall. Your wings flared open instinctively, feathers Puffing up as you reached for the nearest thing you could throw at them. Currently, said object was a spoon.

"Woah, hey! We're not brutes - well, Zoro is one of the exceptions but- you can calm down. If we were gonna hurt you, wouldn't we have done it already?"

You were completely aware of how fast Zoro had stood and moved closer, and you eyed him warily. She has a point, though.. and you got a strange feeling that if he really viewed you as a threat, you wouldn't have gotten away.

"Hey! What's the commotion abou- GUYS SHES AWAKE!"

This time you were met with a man with a long nose, the door having been thrown open. In an instant, a man with a straw hat and a-

A tiny deer?

"She's awake! She woke up even sooner than you said she would, Chopper!"

The straw hat person practically bounced over to you, and you withdrew quickly.

"HI there! Your wings are so cool! Can I touch them?!"

You pressed yourself further against the wall, wings tucking in protectively. "Touch them, and you're a goner." You threatened, feeling the swordsman- Zoro, Nami said his name was, move closer. You shrank away from him.

"Awhh! No fun!"

"My most humble apologies," you growled, voice dripping with sarcasm, "but I dont trust pirates."

"I guess it makes sense.. you're welcome to leave whenever you like, but atleast let Chopper finish his check-up." Nami stated, offering you a big smile. Your feathers tufts pinned to the side, and your gaze was once again brought down to the little deer.

"If you could.. please sit back down. I'd like to check your vitals!"

Oh my God it's A TALKING DEER- HES SO CUTE-

You couldn't help it. Kneeling down you put a hand on his head, smiling. "You're so cute! You're the doctor?!"

Chopper, as he's been called, flushed. And then started doing.. a weird dance?

"I'm not cute you big dummy! That doesn't make me happy at all~" He was clearly smiling though, and you laughed, shaking your head as you moved to sit on the bed, ensuring you kept everyone within your visual range.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy! The Captain! What's your name?!"

Of course the energetic one is the Captain, you thought, feeling a little weird. Chopper moved closer and began touching and prodding at you, occasionally asking you to stretch a limb or breathe.

"(Name). I'm (Name) from Aero Mountain." You replied, and Luffy, his name was, grinned. "Nice to meet you!"

"...likewise. I think."

"Still though.. why were you out flying during a storm?"

Right.

"I didn't intentionally do it. I was racing my friend and I got caught up in it.. i hope Killian is alright.

"You wouldn't have happened to see him, would you?"

You added hopefully. Nami shook her head sadly, "sorry, (Name). We haven't seen anyone else, in the skies or otherwise. We'll let you know if we do." Your head drooped a bit, but then remembered -

"Hey. Uhm.. Zoro?"

The swordsman angled his head towards you, an eyebrow raised.

"....sorry for kneeing you in the balls. You guys seem.. alright. I guess."

"Tch. Yeah, it was a good reaction. I guess from your point of view it was pretty scary."

Something told you he really only said that because Nami was glaring daggers at him: you also got the feeling she could keep them in line.

"...you guys don't really fit the picture of pirates I've always been told about."

You stated, glancing at the adorable Chopper. You'd always thought if you ever encountered pirates, you'd be met with terror, with large men carrying battle axes and women who'd tear off your head. These guys..

They just felt nice.

They all chuckled at your remark and Nami replied, "these guys really aren't that bad. Rowdy, sure, but bad guys? No. Surely you've met a decent pirate before?"

"Haven't met any, actually. According to the elders, pirates haven't reached our island in almost a century."

"Really? Surely they'd have reached it by now?"

"That's what I thought, too. But Logue poses aren't strong enough to attach onto our island. In fact, the only way to reach it is with a Viseron."

"A Viseron? What's that?"

Luffy perked up and you raised your wings, "I'm a Viseron."

"..that doesn't really answer the question. Besides, having wings and a tail."

Zoro eyed you and, yet again, you shrank a bit under his gaze. Even so, you could see the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Well.. hundreds of years ago, Viserons were dragons. The fastest amongst them, if you will. Elder Kisu said a devil fruit came into the picture, and we eventually became more human than dragon, retaining only certain features." You lifted your wings to prove a point, unraveled your tail, and allowed your feathery tufts on your head to prick back up.

"As far as anyone is aware, the original Dragons went extinct a couple centuries ago. I get the feeling most dragons did."

"Ooooh! So cool! Do you have any special powers?!" Luffy asked, and, with no given warning, his neck stretched. Stretched around your body to look at your wings.

"WH- save that, what are you?!"

"Immm a rubber man!"

"....you get used to it." Zoro stated, and Nami pitched in, "that's everybody's reaction. Including ours."

"Rightttt..."

"..anyways. I can fly pretty fast, I can.. sense- islands? Or rather, masses of land. I'm a Logue Pose that isn't always reliable." You shrugged, "and my feathers are sharp. Don't touch-" you smacked Luffy's hand away.

Chopper finally stopped poking and prodding st you, he'd changed your bandages and took a step back.

"All done! You should Probably take it easy for a bit, the muscles around your wings are pretty strained." Chopper replied, "I don't think you gotta tell me that. ..by the way, how long was I out for?"

"A week."

Zoro stared at you as your jaw gaped a bit, but you quickly righted your expression. "Ah.. Great." I was on a pirate ship for a week. But I guess if they were gonna do something, it would've been done by now..

You stood and bowed, "thank you for taking care of me." You righted your posture as Nami batted a hand, "don't worry about it! I'm glad you're okay." "Yeah! ...so can you carry people while you fly?!"

Luffy asked that. You stared at him and shrugged. "To some extent. I can gain the same altitude or speed, nor would I be able to pull off any offensive or defensive maneuvers. ...but yes, by all technical terms, I can."

"Ohh cool! Take me flying then!"

Luffy practically attached himself to you, and without missing a beat you backed yourself into a wall, though without much force, and crossed your arms.

"I don't give free rides."

"Awhhh! No fun."

Luffy untangled himself from you and backed away, and you shook your head.

"Listen.. if there's anything I can do to repay you, please let me know. Otherwise, I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"Oh please, you're fine! You can always pay us back in berry!" Nami grinned, and you couldn't resist a chuckle.

"Besides, how do you plan on leaving? Chopper said you shouldn't be flying." Zoro questioned, a hand resting on his sword. What was a relaxed posture to him was a rather threatening looking one to you.

"Shouldn't doesn't mean couldn’t." You shot back, feathers puffing indignantly. "You're almost as bad as Zoro with bed rest!" Luffy laughed, and Nami bonked him over the head, "like you're any better!"

"Anyways.. please, you're more than welcome to stay with us. We could even bring you back to your home island!"

Nami glanced at Luffy, who instantly nodded his head in agreement.

"If it's all the same, I'll stay, but I won't be guiding you back to my island. The Elders would exile me for such a dangerous feat, nor do I wish to endanger those I care for. If we settle on the next island, i can fly back to mine for payment. It'll have to be a matter of you trusting me." You explained, part of to you hoped they wouldn't take that personally. The thing is, you just couldn't risk it. You didn't even know if they were actually good people yet, either.

"Thats fair." Chopper piped in, and the other three nodded. "Now cmon! Sanji should be getting done with dinner. You should join us!"

You didn't get much of a choice in the matter, with Zoro herding you out the door and Luffy chanting, meat, meat, meat! All the way to the dining hall.

. . .

It was approaching the middle of the night. Stars lit up the darkened sky, and the sea glistened gently under their shine. Leaning over the Going Merry's railing, you thought on the chaotic events during the day.

During dinner, you'd met Sanji, a .. rather eccentric cook, putting it plainly, and Usopp, the long nose one who'd ran off to inform the others you were awake. He was interesting, and so far, he'd yet to run out of stories to tell you of. Luffy and chopper had been chaotic during dinner, to say the least, and Nami spent quite a bit of her time wrestling them into control, and then laughing along side you. Zoro seemed to spend more time drinking than actually eating, and multiple times he'd gotten into some form of argument with Sanji.

"What a weird bunch.."

"I heard that."

You almost jolted out of your skin at the sound of his voice, coughing as you spun around to be met face-to-face with the crews swordsman.

"GAH! Some noise next time, would ya?!" You placed a hand over your chest, half being dramatic, and half recovering from the fact he almost made you fall over the railing. Zoro snickered, joining you against the railing.

"Pay more attention then, Feathers." Ah, yes. The nickname Luffy had dubbed you over dinner. He seemed to switch between using your actual name and the nickname, which, according to Nami, means he likes you. Not sure what good that knowledge does me, but whatever.

"Oh gimma a break! Traumatic event and all."

He scoffed and looked at the sky, "...any sign of your friend? I'm assuming you're still looking for them."

You nodded your head, feeling a sense of guilt. "Yeah.. I'm hoping I had flown ahead of him and he saw the storm before I did. If he didnt.. well.."

Zoro seemed to understand what you left unsaid, and cast you a swift glance.

"If your friend is anything like you, I'm sure he's fine." He grunted at last, shaking his head. "I don't think anybody can just get struck by lightning-" "don't think I was struck, I was probably just too close-" you intervened, "-yeah yeah. My point is, not everybody just gets struck, and gets saved by driftwood. I bet your friend found some, too, or he didn't get struck at all."

"I hope so."

A silence fell between the two of you, and you leaned farther over the railing, staring down at the water. To some extent, you could see the fish swimming just out of reach, and a smile graced your face as you reached a hand out.

At the same instant, you felt a hand on your back, gently gripping at your shirt.

"Careful now, or you're gonna end up a wet bird."

Huh.. how funny. That's one of the last things Killian told me.

You broke into a fit of giggles, leaning back up to stare at the swordsman. "Wet bird I may be, but I can still swim better than anyone on the crew, I bet."

"Wanna test that?" Zoro responded with a grin, and just as you readied yourself to respond, a rather panicked voice came from across the ship.

"Guys?! Come quick!"

It was Nami. Both you and Zoro ran to meet Nami, while Sanji, Luffy, and Chopper, came a bit slower, still groggy with sleep.

"What's wrong, Nami-swan?"

"Nami?"

Sanji and Luffy questioned simultaneously, while the rest of you waited in silence.

"The Logue Pose.. it won't lock on to an island."

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #x reader #one piece #straw hats x reader #straw hats

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gryphonlover · 2 years ago

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Whumptober 2023 Day 1

Prompt: swooning

Victim: Sky

Words: 994

Notes: I'm hoping this is decently accurate, since I referenced a couple of first aid sites before writing.

I have a headcanon that Wild experiences seizures and the Sheikah have taught him how to handle them. That's why he knows what to do and why he's worried, because he knows that seizures have to do with the brain, which is kind of an important organ. The type of seizure that Sky is having is an atonic seizure, which basically just means that his muscles went slack and he was temporarily unresponsive to external stimuli.

It had been a rough day. They'd been forced to make camp earlier than usual because Sky was having a hard time breathing from all the tree pollen in the air and Wind had walked himself bloody. Again. The little stinker had the strongest pain tolerance out of all of them.

Four had reassured Warriors that he could take care of Sky. It wasn't that different from the times Red had needed to be calmed down due to a panic attack, and he could tell that Warriors wanted to take care of Wind. The two were very close, and while Warriors considered it his duty to take care of everyone, it was best if he got it out of his system sooner rather than later.

Besides, no one was dying, and—

Sky suddenly dropped into Four's lap and the smithy flinched in surprise. Sky had a tendency to fall asleep in the strangest places, but he always asked before using someone as a pillow. Maybe sitting down had been a bad idea, though.

"Sky?"

No response. Okay, that was not good.

Four hesitated, but then rested a hand firmly on Sky's shoulder, giving it a little shake. "Sky, are you okay?"

Still nothing.

Yeah this was bad.

Four pushed down his panic and reached around Sky to press a hand to his chest. He was still breathing and his heart was still beating, that was good.

He shifted a bit, and adjusted Sky the best that he could into the position that Warriors had drilled into their heads just in case someone ever fainted and he wasn't around to help.

He turned to look for Warriors, to see if he was still here and if he could ask him for help when he came face to face with Wild, who was now only 4 inches away from his face.

"Jeeze, Wild, give me a little warning next time!"

Wild blinked. "Sorry. What's up with Sky?"

Four took a deep breath to calm his spooked heart. "I don't know, he just suddenly fell into my lap. I thought that maybe he fainted from not getting enough air, but..."

Wild's gaze shifted over to the still knight, and he scooched over, poking and prodding in a manner that seemed to indicate that he was following some sort of protocol, but Four had no idea what he was doing.

Sky let out a soft, confused sound, and Wild patted his head. "It's alright, you're safe."

Four released a slow exhale. Sky was awake. Things were going to be okay.

Wild watched Sky intently as if waiting for something, then sat back on his heels after a handful of minutes.

"So, I'm going to ask you some questions, and you gotta answer them, okay?"

Four had no idea what he was going on about, so he just ran a hand through Sky's hair, letting the champion do his strange first aid.

"I... okay." Sky still sounded a little breathy, but he was no longer struggling for breath.

"First question, what's your name?"

Sky clearly felt as baffled as Four did, if the silence was any indication.

Wild's brows furrowed. "Come on, work with me here, man."

The silence stretched on and Wild's face grew even more concerned. "Oh crap..."

Four could feel his heart speed up again. "What?"

Wild's eyes didn't leave Sky's face, and he gently tapped him on the cheek. "Come on, featherhead, now's not the time to be having a seizure."

"A what?"

"A seizure, just—" Wild sounded stressed. "There's not really anything we can do until it passes. We're in the middle of the forest and none of us are doctors."

"What do you mean there's nothing we can do!?"

"I mean," Wild snapped back, "that this isn't something that's easily fixed. There is no cure, there is no medicine, there is nothing that can make it better. We just have to wait until it's over and then make sure he isn't confused or hurt or anything."

The little red part of Four's brain continued panicking, so he shoved it back, back, back into a dark corner where it wouldn't bother him as much.

"He won't..."

Wild took a deep breath. "To be honest, I think his breathing problems will kill him before a seizure does. Besides, he's one of us, he's gotta be pretty hard to kill."

Sky shifted, stirring listlessly and Wild's face lit up. "Oh thank Hylia."

Sky stared up at him in confusion. "When... when did you get here...?"

Wild smiled. "Not long ago. You had a bit of an... episode."

"Huh." Sky seemed to process the information. "What are we doing?"

"Well, you are supposed to be resting." Wild wagged a finger chidingly. "But before that, I need you to answer some questions."

"Why? What's wrong?" Sky struggled to sit up properly, still weak from not being able to get enough air. Four helped him up, propping the Skyloftian up against himself the best he could.

"Everyone is fine, I just need to make sure your head's working right now."

Sky squinted at Wild as if he was trying to see through him, then seemed to decide that whatever Wild was doing couldn't possibly be that problematic.

"Okay."

Wild ran through a list of questions that were really simple. He asked Sky what his name was, how old he was, where they were, what they were doing, things like that. Four didn't really understand why he was asking these questions, but he resolved to pull Wild aside later for a discussion on what had happened.

Once Wild was satisfied, he instructed Four to stay with Sky while he went and talked to Warriors and Time about what had happened.

Seeing Sky have that... seizure thing had been scary, but now that Wild had taught him what to do, he was more confident that he'd be able to help Sky if it happened again. Things were going to be okay.

#whumptober #whumptober 2023 #linked universe #legend of zelda #lu sky #lu wild #lu four #fanfiction #gryphon writes

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featherlumina · 1 year ago

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What’s your favorite quirk/habit you give the cc cast when you write them?

(Glad you’re back in this mess :D, also yes everything behind gen SHOULD be on fire)

Thank you so much for the ask! :D I'm going to stick to who I've written so far, but that's still quite a few to think about! I hope you enjoy my silly/angsty/cute snippets. :3 Genesis He annotates the crap out of any book he owns. Don't get me wrong, he's got pristine copies of all editions of LOVELESS reserved for viewing only, but he's also got versions exclusively for scribbling notes and interpretations in the margins. In one particular copy, though, the notes start to get choppier, rougher, more...unhinged, as the degradation drags from months into years and his desperation for a cure deepens, particularly after the Nibelheim incident. Angeal This man can take a nap anywhere. Up a tree, in a rock crevice, in a military truck that's careening into every pothole by a careless driver... Angeal is the king of shuteye in unlikely places. It's very handy on rough missions. Sephiroth Likes to exercise his authority as a First to refuse any SOLDIER missions that even vaguely assist Hojo's research out of sheer spite. Genesis is incredibly proud of him. Zack This guy is a chaos cook, and by that I mean he just throws whatever crap he has available into a pan and just vibes. The 'throw anything together' habit he picked up from Angeal, yes, but he missed the 'think about sensible flavour combinations' part. Cloud He's a nervous fidgeter and has a lot of anxious energy that needs to escape. Drumming his fingers, leg bouncing, fiddling with his earring, picking skin, you name it. This behaviour is more prominent in his infantry days, too. Cissnei She's a collector, and by that I mean a collector of small keepsakes and trinkets found on missions around the world. Being raised in a orphanage meant that she barely had any possessions growing up, so she treasured anything that was hers and hers alone. Sometimes it's silly things from gift shops, or interesting rocks, feathers, scales, etc.

(She definitely kept a feather from that Genesis copy in Sector 8, for example.) Lazard You think this bloke only started embezzling money from ShinRa when Genesis defected? Not a chance. A lot of it gets funnelled to his non-ShinRa relatives, but also gets channelled into charitable projects around Midgar supporting people of the slums.

#genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #sephiroth #zack fair #cloud strife #cissnei #lazard #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #ffvii #crisis core #crisis core reunion #ask feather #featherhead thoughts #headcanons #oh my god it was so much fun thinking about these #of course I had to add in some angst for Gen #I couldn't resist #rivkae-winters

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suchusoid · 7 months ago

Text

Malefactor being themselves

The malefactor are at the table eating breakfeast

Hank marcus/atlas=A

Iguru hagewashi/razorbill=R

Raiden inazuma/teslanaut=T

Tsuru Kinboshi/venus=V

Ningyo furawa/manique=M

Ann mavis/skinwalker=S

A=hey guys, so I've heard about this debate over whether cereal is a soup-

S=oh no, not this again.(she knows whats gonna happen now)

R=hank me matey, it be obvious that cereal is a soup!

M=what? You're a crazier pirate than I thought iguru! Don't listen to that featherhead hank, cereal is not a soup.

R=oh, look whos runnin' their mouth ey lassie? Well ningyo, any self respectin' seabird knows that cereal is a soup!

Raiden notices hank is torn on who to believe and decides to intervene

T=alright you too, thats enough. Look hank, I don't consider myself a soup criteria expert, but soup generally has liquid in it, and cereal can be eaten without it, so therefore, cereal is not a soup.

R=Arrr, this can't be! Tsuru, back me up here!

V=sorry iguru, but I don't think I'll be much help, considering I've never eaten anything before.

Suddenly everyone stopped, and turned to face tsuru, even ann, who has been tuning out the debate, turned over.

S=roll zat one by us again?

V= what? I'm a plant, we don't eat, we photosynthesize.

All: ohhhh.

After that they forgot what they were debating in the first place, and went back to breakfeast

#mha critical #mha oc #bnha critical #horikoshi critical #bnha oc

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silver-inked-quill · 1 year ago

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Broken Promises

Ch.6 Nymos

Words: 1886

Summary: Mc (Nell) goes out with her friends for the first time while Richy's associate is after her while she is with Phil. Is Jake actually there?

Liz POV

I had been studying the past forty minutes each detail of the reports Bloomgate gave me. I had to go in and interrogate the suspect that broke into Roger's garage surpassing all the security lanes we had set. Alan leaned on the doorframe. "I have never seen a psychiatrist stressed." He stated breaking my focus.

"And you won't see today either." I responded reflexively and set aside the notes I had taken. I stood up and walked past him. I didn't like being underestimated. I paced my way to the interrogation room and I opened the door when a my jaw crushed in a fist, I stumbled back feeling the taste of blood flood my mouth. My vision was blurry and I didn't really know how that happened.

Nellie's POV

It had been two hours since I came here and slowly everyone was leaving for the night. The bar was almost empty and Phil arrived at our table, it was everyone but Cleo who left earlier. Phil sat next to me offering me a cocktail. I looked at him and smiled lightly.

"I didn't order anything." I spoke up, he was indeed charming, I loved the way his tattoos laid on his neck, and his elegance was truly something else.

"Its something new, off the menu. I would like the opinion of someone- out of here." Phil spoke and leaned over me, he was much taller than me, almost as tall as Ja- no no no! Not again. I shouldn't compare anyone to him. Phil is here, flirting me.

"Hm, let me see." I spoke and took a sip, the gin burning my larynx as there was nothing to break the acidic taste of the alcohol. "Strong- and heavy but still fruity." I commented breathing in hoping the featherhead the mixed drinks gave me.

"That was the point-Perhaps ill name it after you. You seem strong and fruity."Phil spoke, I half expected comments on this but it was only then that I realized no one was hearing his words. He was close to me whispering.

"Oh, that's nice of you-..." I smiled at him, I couldn't help but notice the shape of his lips, he had pretty lips, so symmetrical.

"You could do something for me too." Phil spoke and tinged my drink with his, whiskey with honey.

"And what would that be?" I asked, I was smirking as I took a greater sip from the cocktail. I was looking into his eyes, they were like Jessy's but more melancholic.

"Play something on the piano"He suggested and pointed at the big piano on the corner of the bar, it had candles on it and I recognized the beechwood from the ray cells that were deleted under the romantic candle light.

"I don't play- not anymore." I smiled and looked away immediately, he must have came close to me as I felt his breath stroke the bare skin of my shoulder and it had me shuddering within seconds.

"Come on, for me..."Phil whispered and his hand slowly caressed my forearm and ended up gripping my hand and bringing it to his lips. "I want to hear your voice sing." He spoe and I turned my gaze towards him.

"I have never had audience before." I revealed and my hand shook in his.

"There is only me." He spoke as his hand stroked my jaw and smiled, our faces were close therefore he didn't attempt to kiss me. I nodded and he was gripping my face gently. I stood up getting out of his grip and I walked in straight line to the piano and I opened the microphone.

It was a familiar feeling having the tiles under my fingers, I hadn't thought much of the song as I started playing automatically 'Heart by Heart' . A song I spent all my teenage years singing it and playing it. And then it was another and another- until I saw Jessy and Phil approach me. He stayed further behind as my friend approached me.

"Hey- we are thinking of leaving." Jessy spoke and my gaze fell on Phil who was standing further behind looking at me he winked. My attention was divided. "Um- Nell, I am talking to you." She exclaimed and I hopped lightly.

"Sorry- uh yeah, go I will stay." I responded and smiled at Phil was looking at me holding his whiskey, it was filled once again.

"Are you sure-?" she asked me. "You are drunk." Jessy pointed out and I only nodded.

"Not drunk enough." I responed and pulled her in a hug. "I promise I am alright." I smiled at her and she looked at me and then at her brother.

"Okay then." She smiled and left. I noticed Dan tell something to Phil, it seemed to disturb the owner of the Aurora bar as they exited, Phil turned and lowered the lights entrance as I started playing the piano again.

I played Bach as I felt his hands on my bare shoulders, I tensed as he was massaging them as my skin shuddered under his grip, I kept tapping on the tiles as I soon felt his breath closer to my skin, his lips followed capturing my neck in a deep kiss as his palm was around the rest of my throat. I paused the symphony and let out a soft moan and he paused his movements.

"Don't stop the music." Phil requested in a slow whisper. "Tell me to stop at any point." He added and his lips returned on my neck as I kept playing the piano. I felt his teeth dig into my flesh as his grip around my neck tightened, my breath was coming out cut and sharp as he was kissing my neck. I do not know how we escalated so quickly and I was never this reckless with anyone, not even Ja-. NOT AGAIN!

"You feeling alright?" Phil asked as he sat next to me, he must have noticed the momentary feeling of hesitance that took me over.

"Yes... Just thinking." I smiled at him, my fingers never stopped pressing at the piano tiles. I hadn't realized how much I missed this part of my life.

"I am a good listener." Phil commented "And I bet that in the following sentence there will be at least one of those words, police, hacker, Jake." He spoke and I looked elsewhere with a slight nod. "I didn't want to overstep but from what I get he left... I am here though." He smiled and took my hand, I looked at him and he placed it over his shoulder.

"I am drunk." I smiled and placed my other hand on his other shoulder.

"I am too." He responded and tugged some hair behind my ear. "I am also feeling reckless." He commented and leaned in kissing me deeply, I was caught aback but I kissed him just as deeply, his hand stroked my thigh upwards, I let him move on, he let out a chuckle feeling the humidity of my underpants. Before I could respond to that his lips captured mine in a renewed kiss as with a movement he closed the tiles and positioned me on them.

I had to admit he knows how to make a woman want him in more ways than one. my legs were rested on his either side of his waist as my dress was pulled up as I felt his hand stroke my core making me arch my body in a way it was fully displayed to him, the layer of my dress being a small obstacle that Phil didn't seem to mind as he pulled it aside and revealed my breast. I gasped as he was in three places at a time driving mad already without doing much.

"You are sexy" he commented as he was sucking the skin of my neck, the only response I could offer him was a moan as my legs were shaking to his hand invading my layers, bringing me a feeling haven't felt in a long time. My ears were buzzing from the pressure that rose in my veins like glass cracking. Wait- there was actual glass cracking-

I jumped putting all the clothing back in place. As a masked man with a gun entered the broken glass to the bar. Phil stood up in front of me and raised his hands lightly with no abrupt movements. "Easy man, what do you want?" He asked and he only pointed at me no voice heard. "Sorry can't do" Phil responded when the buzz in my ears got louder as if the electric intensity was high, the moment I turned my gaze to the speakers and the lights at the ceiling the whole space lit up and the speakers released a high frequency that made my ears bleed I covered them squeezing my eyes closed.

I was completely disorientated, on my knees as I could barely feel my head. I opened my eyes for a moment to see what was going in my surroundings, the moment of the break in replaying in my head all of a sudden. I saw the man no longer holding the gun, he was on his knees as Phil seemed more affected by the blindingly lit thorium lamps and the unbearable noise of the speaker, he was on the ground holding his head, I noticed blood on his ears.

I crawled to the man on the floor the gun no longer in his hands, I reached at took it when he kicked it off my wrist. I looked around for a way to defend myself when the screens all around glitched- an oddly familiar event. The noise got louder. "Stand still and you will not be bidden with further charges other than trespassing and resistance and assault against authority, I am aware of who sent you and dare to move one more muscle and things will not end well for you and I will make sure of it." I was listening to the warnings or more like threats, the screens were no longer glitching they had an eye- reddish one- and the name Nym-os right under.

He was back- he never left...

'Nym-os was created to protect you'

'I will never let anyone close to harm you'

I was pointing my gun at the man but my gaze was staring at the camera. It wasn't hard for Jake to hack into the closed CTV Aurora bar had. "FBI has his tracks, We are aware that Richard Rogers is alive." Jake said, his voice was altered, I was listening the voice he firstly bore.

"FBI?" I exclaimed "We, nice one Nymos!" I added, it was spontaneous, I didn't think to comment that Richy was alive and after me.

"The authorities are on their way."he repeated only, I saw the glass of the camera zoom to me, I wanted to keep my expression straight not to give him the satisfaction to see my smile or an upclose eyecontact when the siren lights arrived.

Hey there,

i know it has been a while and forgive me for that. I hope you liked the chapter and thank you for reading it. I kind of missed Jake too so I decided to make his theamatic comeback.

Please let me know your opinion in any way you feel comfortable (Comment dm or idk wattpad?) It is important to me to be aware of what you would like to see.

Also, duskwood one shots will soon be created so make sure to leave a request down in the comments and i will write about it.

Take care of yourselves,

yours, Silvermist

#duskwood #duskwood hannah #duskwood jessy #duskwood dan #duskwood jake #duskwood richy #duskwood phil #duskwood everbyte #duskwood thomas #everbyte studios #duskwood alan #alan bloomgate x reader #alan bloomgate #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake x player #jake donfort

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riverdale-retread · 2 years ago

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Riverdale S7 E13 (Chapter 130) The Crucible

[Weird little translation note from an international viewer: There are apparently some titles that the Netflix Korea translator refuses to translate into Korean for the international release, and some they will translate. The Crucible is one where the title is sounded out phonetically, which is very funny because the Arthur Miller play actually has a well known Korean title. The other deemed-untranslatable episode titles were Peep Show, Dirty Dancing, Hoop Dreams, Halloween 2, and After the Fall)]

The music is all jazzy film noir-ish at the opening of this episode as we slowly zoom in on Jughead in his very luxurious train car. The sheer beauty of the innards of this thing take me by surprise every time. Jughead is in suspenders, with what for him is sort of his Little Black Dress - a white t shirt under a button up shirt with suspenders over it. He looks upset and wan.

How does a fire start? he asks, or rather, types.

The fire might start with the English teacher, who has thus far paid Jughead’s actual career as a writer zero attention whatsoever (but does Jughead even go to school anymore other than to yell at people about milk or to get yelled at by the principal in the office?) but is cultivating Archie’s gifts as a poet (by letting him come and sit in the classroom to scribble in semi privacy?). It might begin with Veronica Lodge, looking kewpie doll adorable in her perfect hair (that my very valuable mutual taught me was a wig! I somehow never thought about it being a wig!), startled to find a tall clean shaven man smiling down at her in her elevator at home. It took me a long time to realize this was GLEN.

HI GLEN.

Glen without facial hair and in 1950s get up looks disconcertingly like a young Harrison Ford and goddamn you Roberto I refuse to find Glen hot on principle so fuck off.

The fire may begin with Betty coming home to find that her phone has been confiscated (by her mother, most likely). Betty has an ugly little ornamental bear on her bedside table. Is that meaningful?

Or maybe the fire starts in a classroom, where Betty and Kevin are acting out some scene from Tennessee Williams, the themes of which are “Crisis in the South/ Mendacity/ Nihilism.”

The only play they could be doing is of course Cat On a Hot Tin Roof which … this is the one time a Riverdale reference to a classical literature work is actually spot on and it’s making me feel very sour. The teacher sings their praises, calling their performance better than what she saw on Broadway.

(Also scratch what I said earlier about Jughead going to school - he’s there in class in the back, two rows behind Betty). Evelyn looks very pissy about this whole situation. Why am I being made to identify with Evelyn?

Principal Weatherbee bursts in. As a repressed closeted homosexual in denial about his feelings for his best friend and coworker he is likely to be very triggered by Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. He just opens the door with “That’s enough.” He has Sheriff Keller and Clifford Blossom in tow (but not Werthers). In front of all her students, the teacher is led out like she’s done something terrible. Wearing an extremely campy red velvet jacket trimmed in black satin, Clifford Blossom steps into the class to stand right in front of a poster of Oscar Wild. I just now noticed that his hair isn’t red in this. It’s blonde. Why is it blonde?

The mayor takes it upon himself to tell the kids that the English teacher has been fired. Their new teacher is going to be - of all people - Penelope Blossom. Atonal demon music plays as Penelope saunters in right on cue - which means she just stood out there in the all while Featherhead did his bursting in and escorting out - wearing a necklace that looks like it’s made of black scarab beetles. Her outfit is the color inverse of her husband's - black with red color accents. The Blossom children have no idea what is happening but they know it’s really bad, giving each other “Are you seeing this?” type of looks. Archie was the only student to actually speak up in defense of the teacher, and he continues to do so now that the bad news has been announced.

Penelope Blossom just has so much presence! Can’t we have more of her and less of the very boring Clifford Blossom?

Archie continues to be the one to use his privilege for the good (unlike say, Julian Blossom or Kevin Keller, whose fathers are directly involved in this debacle), wanting to know what exactly is going on.

Mrs. Thornton is accused of being a communist! Dun Dun Dunnn~ Penelope intones that “The Red Menace has come to Riverdale.” Right on cue, Evelyn turns around to take a look at the known Lavender Menace in the classroom - Cheryl- as Cheryl realizes that this is not going to go away easily and already feels exhausted by life.

After the class, the core seven (this is um, NO JUGHEAD, but Toni, Cheryl, Clay, Archie, Kevin, Betty and Veronica) convene in the student lounge to try to figure out what is going on. Betty wants to know if Archie can shed more light, since he’s been getting special tutoring from Mrs. Thornton. Archie is in the closet about his poetry, so he sounds sus as he says that Mrs Thornton just isn’t like that. Veronica’s chest ribbon is HUGE and makes her look very very tiny. Cheryl says that there must’ve been some sort of cause, but Veronica says that the Red Scare in Hollywood was terrible. She starts explaining the McCarthy Era to the people who are still in 1955 which is so weird, because the televised hearings started in 1954, so this is another instance when the “1955” of this show has nothing to do with the real “1955” except for the part where Fred Andrews died in Korea.

Anyway, Kevin (because of course he does) staunchly defends his father (indirectly) by assuming that nobody would do anything bad to anyone in America unless they deserved it. (Unlike say, when your father hires a prostitute to force you into having het sex and things like that). Veronica disagrees.

Jughead does not give a hoot what happened to the English teacher. Ethel doesn’t either. They are off looking to celebrate the publication of the comic that Featherstone decided to publish last episode. The friendzoning continues - Jughead calls it “your” first comic to which Ethel corrects, “our” first comic. But her brown checked skirt matches his brown checked jacket! The vendor, who is a crusty old man, says he no longer carries “Pit of the Perverse” at all because it’s “unamerican smut.” All around him are faces of pretty girls smiling invitingly out from covers with titles like “Flash Bulb” and “Women of Today.” The man even yells at the pair to go away.

At Thornton House, Cheryl is being interrogated by her parents about her unamerican public kiss with Toni at the Halloween Party. Red Menace, Lavender Menace (which is a Betty Friedan phrase, the homophobia of which was one the major failings of the initial Second Wave liberal white feminist movement in America) - it’s all the same to Clifford Blossom. He wants it stamped out.

The thing is, the Blossoms are scary, abusive people but I weirdly admire them (no please, hear me out) for not being hypocrites. When they say they want to ‘stamp out’ unamerican (™) activities, they start by torturing their own kid.

Cheryl also has a spine of steel. Though visibly frightened (and fully aware of her father’s homicidal impulses and callousness about his children) Cheryl says she will not be naming names. She calls him a jackal. Bravo.

Sadly, they already have a list of names compiled for the targeting. What they want is for Cheryl to just corroborate. This will allow her to ‘redeem’ herself.

The names on this list are: Cheryl Blossom (as NUMBER 1), Toni, Kevin, Clay, and then a bunch of people we don’t know - Chris Henderson, John Maclean, Jessical Leetola, Connor Rielley, Colin Ellis, and Kathleen Ross.) Cheryl absolutely refuses, except Clifford has her number - he threatens the only thing she cares about, the Vixens. “Anything but that Daddy!” Cheryl pleads, but she is not granted clemency.

At the same time, Veronica comes home to find Hiram Lodge is in the apartment. The number of ways and things that Hiram lies about in his conversations with Veronica are truly very toxic. He says he missed her, to which Veronica is unmoved, so then he bribes her with a Faberge egg, to which she wants to know who he fucked around with on her mom. Infidelity is something he’s very willing to own up to. This toxic dad also knows his daughter’s main weakness - she is very lonely So he says that he wants to meet her friends as he offers her a hug. This, she can’t resist.

The next day, Veronica brings Hiram to school like it’s show and tell. She’s dressed in the most demure, matronly outfit I’ve seen her in to date, complete with a matching pearl necklace-and-bracelet set. So these are her group of friends yes, but like, it’s funny how she’s dated, kissed or wooed or was wooed by the majority of her friend circle. (Betty, Clay, Archie, Julian) leaving out only Kevin, Cheryl and Toni.

Kevin is so horny and shameless. Ugh.

Cheryl pointedly says that the first season of Oh Mija was the best one (hahaha) because it went downhill after that. Featherhead has asked Hiram to be a guest lecturer (because I guess even he knows Penelope Blossom may not actually want to teach the kids anything), especially because this is monologue day at English class.

Julian Blossom is up first!

He does the Hamlet To Be or Not to Be soliloquy. Apparently neither Kevin nor Archie knew that this was a speech about contemplating suicide. Hiram is weirdly macho about it, asking of Julian is a man, because Hamlet was a man. I mean, Hamlet was a man but his whole problem was being emasculated, I thought? He doesn’t really achieve any of his goals, has his place in succession stolen from him by his uncle and does literally nothing about it for months and months other than dither, kill the wrong person, and drive poor Ophelia to suicide.

For some reason, Hiram giving Julian what sound like pretty sound corrections to the way he’s delivering a speech that’s very challenging to sound convincing makes everyone chuckle throughout. Is this supposed to be in reaction to like, Hiram’s star power? They’re just delighted and nervous that a real life sitcom actor is giving their Julian Blossom an acting lesson?

After the class, Betty goes to see the principal, who tells her that the Blue and Gold is going to be defunded with the loss of Mrs Thornton, who was the faculty advisor. Featherhead has already made up his mind, so Betty charges into the newspaper room and liberates the typewriter there.

This is very interesting, that first Archie and now Betty are acquiring the instruments and drive for writing now that they never ever talk to Jughead Jones.

Cheryl has gathered the three other known homosexuals that were on the list into the music room, to update them and to freak out about potentially losing the Vixens. She doesn’t feel the need to inform anyone she isn’t personally friends with. She needs to know who sold her out. Who stands to gain the most from getting her off the Vixens?

Evelyn!

So she confronts Evelyn immediately. I love Evelyn and how Evil she is. She’s so calm and reserved and coiled and hateful. Cheryl is protesting entirely way too much, which gives Evelyn the upper hand.

In the principal’s office, Featherhead wants to know if Mrs. Thornton was trying to “indoctrinate” Archie, who doesn’t know what that word means. Werther says that civil disobedience and revolution is happening in Cuba and can’t happen here. I mean, it wasn’t necessarily due to Mrs. Thornton that Archie started that unionized coup against Clifford Blossom, but I don’t think either man knows about that.

Veronica is doing a full show and tell of her life, bringing Hiram to the movie theater. The one he wanted to raze and make into a parking lot. He tells her it’s tremendous, which is so insincere,but Veronica bless her is just too lonely to see it. As soon as Hiram is off to see the afternoon movie, in comes Glen, who wants to know what Veronica’s relationship is with Hiram. I see that even though he looks like Harrison Ford when clean cut, he’s still dumb as a bag of bricks because he did not realize that Veronica Lodge was Hiram Lodge’s daughter.

At Pep Comics, Ethelhead tell of their recent misadventures to Fieldstone. He already knows that his comics are being rejected, and that it’s an emergency. He’s very upset. They’re getting graphic hatemail. They’re going to “hunker down and weather this storm.” I like Fieldstone for how adorable he finds Ethel. Everything she says makes him laugh or call her Freckles or Girl Genius. Ethel wants a copy of her newly published work. Then Ethelhead, without having to even say anything, just read each other’s minds and take bundles to sell on their own cognizance.

At home, Betty is soliciting anonymous submissions to her magazine, “The Teenage Mystique.” …. I mean. Betty Friedan published The Feminine Mystique in 1963 and I am not ok with a seminal work of feminism being consumed in this way by this piece of pop media. Betty Cooper uses “The Girl Next Door” as her moniker, shoving her invitation sheet into every single locker.

Now that he doesn’t have a quiet classroom to write poetry in, Archie has to try to eke out some space, much like Jane Austen or Emily Dickinson, to work on his writing. He flips out when Uncle Fucking Frank barges in, demanding to know what he is up to.

Uncle Frank and his obsession with Archie is very disturbing. Also does he still live in this house? Does Mary just lock herself into the master bathroom and sleep in the bathtub at night? Anyway, when Archie who acted like he’d been jerking it to hardcore gay porn eventually says that he was working on his writing, Uncle Frank says he came in to police Archie’s sexuality again. But the scary interrogation of the afternoon has definitely taught Archie what “indoctrination” means. It’s not sufficiently heterosexual of him, as a man, to write poetry for any purpose than to make some girl swoon and “get with” him. Except given the events of the past season, they don’t really want any girl to “get with” him either. No peep shows through windows between houses like 5 feet apart with Betty. And if he had impregnated Cheryl they were both going to have to get married. So the repression that is being laid on Archie is just as contradictory and repressive as what is being laid on Betty (except she’s much more abnormal about how horny it seems to make her) . He can’t be insufficiently straight and manly, but being ultra straight and manly (i.e. succeeding in impregnating a girl) would also be a disaster.

Plus.

PLUS.

The very single, very childless, only works with minor teen boys Uncle Fucking Frank trying to control Archie’s outward behavior to keep him on the “straight and narrow” is fully ridiculous. I hate Frank so much. Why oh Why is Mary considered too inept to mother Archie, when she goes out of her way to cockblock Beronica’s kiss by essentially haranguing a doorman to let her break into someone else’s apartment??

At the Pembroke, Veronica wants to know why the FBI is following Hiram. Hiram says he’s being investigated as a possible communist, because he went to Cuba the year before to buy cigars. Another lie comes out before he actually says the truth - the lie was that he came to Riverdale to hide out. The truth is that he needs Veronica to lie for him to the government. She balks because lying to the government scares her. He pretends there’s an out for her - he’s “meeting with a lawyer” but in the end he trusts she’ll throw herself into the fire for him.

The next day, Glen is waiting for her at school. Glen says that he’s been assigned to her, and that someone else has followed Hiram to NYC. Veronica wants to see proof, to which Glen says to get into the car. She does!

Archie sees Veronica get into the car, and she sees him as they drive by. Of course, the place they go to is the diner. Glen shows Veronica photos of Hiram at the same table in Cuba as “Fidel Mastro.” The person that Veronica is upset to be seeing in the photo is the blonde lover at Hiram’s side.

Archie has tracked down his English teacher by looking her up in the phone book. She is packing up to leave, moving to Greendale, to be a library there as a volunteer. Apparently that River makes all the difference - it refused admittance to Julian Blossom, dunking him and making him come out the other end of it as someone who is an ally to Cheryl for one. Mrs Thornton says really contradictory things - that there’s a “job waiting for me” but also that it’s “volunteer.” OK but ma’am what will you live on?

No matter.

When Archie expresses his confusion about the state of the world, his teacher hands him a copy of The Crucible by Arthur Miller. Archie says he was going to do Biff’s monologue from Death of a Salesman, but now he’s going to pick something out of The Crucible.

OMG is this why Jughead picked the name Biff for Archie when they run away together in Season 3? The key bit of that monologue is this: “And I never got anywhere because you blew me so full of hot air I could never stand taking orders from anybody! That’s whose fault it is!” Biff is saying this to Willy, the salesman.

The teacher gives him a benediction, that strangely sounds exactly like what Hiram said earlier in the day to Julian: “Words have power.” She keeps telling him he’s “more than” a Biff type (when Jughead in the OG timeline reduced him exactly to it??). They give each other a hug of farewell.

Meanwhile, Ethelhead are running a brisk, literally under the table business, selling Pep Comic books, sitting back to back. I love their partnership. Jughead totally acts like he’s selling contraband weapons or something. He’s so dorky, I love him. he feels like he’s being such a badass, while Ethel just likes this entire exercise.

At the Dark Room, Cheryl is having another panic attack about potentially getting kicked out of the Vixens. The other gays have come up with a plan, to ape lavender marriages. Conveniently for them there’s one white and black person in each homosexual pairing, which obviates the need for a race discussion should it ever come up. Cheryl gravely says that going in the closet like that seems to betray Toni’s principles. Toni, who as we’ve seen all season doesn’t really have principles, lies again. Instead of saying, I want to hunker down and survive to see another day (like the much more honest Fieldstone), Toni says she’s allowing this charade for “all our sakes.”

Archie finds The Crucible extremely riveting.

Veronica is sadly mulling things over in her apartment, with liquor. Hiram comes in late from New York to say that his attempt to buy his way out of his problem did not work out. He needs her to commit perjury on his behalf. Veronica confronts him with the fact that his trip to Cuba was in service of an affair with a Kelly (the name of the actors’ IRL wife, which was a very cute reference). When Veronica sounds unwilling to acquiesce to his demands, Hiram reverts to villainy which is his true form and threatens her, saying that it wouldn’t be a favor for HIM if she commits perjury - it would be self protective for her, because he would lose everything if the story came out that he was in violation of his morality clause. Veronica shoots back that she already went through the experience of banishment and life in exile. She’s so lonely, as I’ve said, and she’s genuinely hurt that her initial intuition (Hiram would not show up unannounced and play all nicey nice unless there was a direct personal benefit she could do at her cost for him) was correct. “What you should be asking me for is mercy!” she cries, before storming off.

The next day, the Lavender Marriages storm the halls in patented Cheryl SloMo (™) which I don’t remember seeing much this season. Evelyn, wearing an appropriately lavender cardigan, is very annoyed by this workaround that the four homosexuals have found. Apparently, their queerness was an open secret, which is very very weird to me. Midge for one seems disappointed with Cheryl, who refuses to look at her. But everyone else is equally perturbed by these two pairings.

Archie is very nervous about trying to give his monologue from The Crucible. Penelope Blossom is teaching the class, sort of, I mean - she’s dressed up for it and in the classroom, standing like a Dior New Deal costume model in a very red dress. The thing is, she doesn’t seem to know what The Crucible is, which is surprising, and even more surprising, she didn’t insist on cross checking what the students were going to be performing before letting them.

Suddenly Archie is giving the John Proctor speech and uh -

I -

oh help-

I don’t want to be here.

This is the most grating thing I’ve ever seen on Riverdale and this includes a lot of the hideous singing and dancing and poorly transposed musical numbers and so on. I get very annoyed when shows do this, having actors “play” people who “play” at “acting.” It’s so self referential and masturbatory, sort of like how when movie people make movies about making movies they act like all the normal “This is what happens on a job” stuff is the most momentous thing ever and simultaneously they refuse to deal with the actual documented problems of their industry that are unique to just themselves

Ok so as far as that speech goes, John Proctor at the end of his rope, giving the thesis statement of the play etc, Archie (and KJ Apa’s) delivery is fine. He is doing all the correct actor-y things with his voice, going from screaming (but not to harsh) to suddenly dropping in volume (but not to the point of being inaudible), trembling with emotion but not enough to obscure diction, and his eyes also fill with tears but not enough to make his sinuses get sloppy. It’s all… fine. But this level of sincerity completely and high emotionality goes completely against the bouncy surreality of everything that S7 (and all the seasons before) have relied on to be watchable.

This is how Riverdale loses even by winning. KJ Apa works everything he knows how to do as an actor (activating tear ducts at will, flexible eyebrows, vocal chord range deployment, breathing techniques, working outside his native accent) so that Archie the character gives a professional-grade burst of emotion for his monologue class at school, and yet, because it just does not fit with anything Riverdale has ever done, it completely shatters the immersion in the narrative for me and all I am left with is

CRINGE.

But anyway. the power of Arthur Miller’s words supposedly gives Cheryl some sort of realization, because she marches down to the principal’s office to face off against her father, the principal and Werthers. She tells the three men that she will never cooperate with them, and has a wonderful moment:

“I, Cheryl Blossom, hereby and willingly, end my stewardship of the River Vixens.”

I really, really needed this palate cleanser after what they made Archie do. Thank god for Cheryl.

She also tells them of the Lavender Marriage workaround, before joining the gay kids of Riverdale club. “Clearly, we don’t live in a just world,” she says, bumping shoulders with Kevin.

The thing is, this feels like a course correction to the plotline that lead me to hate Kevin - that is, he was in the closet for real, lying to himself and to Betty and everyone else about what the hell he was up to. With this lavender marriage situation though, the show seems to be positing that there is such a thing as a ‘good and useful’ closet. If you construct it and climb into it yourself - and everyone sort of kind of knows you’re lying - then it’s fine. (Is it?) And I must still ask - WHY IS IT CHERYL THAT HAS TO GIVE ANYTHING UP? Because think about it - Kevin nor Clay nor Toni have had to give up a single one of their hobbies or group affiliations. It’s just Cheryl that had to give up something she held to a religious level of importance.

Why is Kevin not expected to confront his father about being a lackey to the mayor? Oh right, because even Betty finds his relationship with Clay ‘dreamy.’ [Vomit]

Cheryl says she’s happy to have even a small amount of space on earth to live her truth. Toni hopes Evelyn breaks her neck cheerleading.

Veronica approaches Archie to say that it was quite the speech. She gives him a kiss on the cheek, and then they kiss each other. Archie is very surprised, but not displeased. Veronica looks very serious.

Ok.

Ok SHOW?

FUCKING SHOW ME ANOTHER BERONICA KISS PLEASE.

Back at the diner, an Asian boyscout (or whatever they’re called) is asking for Pit of the Perverse #32 . Jughead has been marking up 10 cent issues all the way up to a quarter for his sales. The boyscout turns out to be a plant, and this is a raid. Keller is doing this with his time. The jig is up, so they have to turn over their stash to the cops. It’s very funny to me that Jughead completely expected to be SHOT for selling the comic books - he was this close to demanding that they not shoot.

Jughead has Ethel at his home again, and the two of them celebrate with milkshakes and a “god bless America toast” about the money they’ve made.

At the Pembroke, Hiram and Veronica are having dinner together (Cooked by who I wonder?). Hiram is trying to ingratiate himself to his clearly not very happy daughter, but all he can offer is his own show (“A new episode of Oh Mija!”). This is absolutely the wrong thing to say, and Veronica takes off in a huff.

The next day at school, Archie is taking things out of his locker. He seems to only have images of male baseball players on the inside - a cover of Batter, and a picture of someone pitching a ball but somehow also called the Bulldogs. Just then, a woman asks him if he’s Archie Andrews.

And it’s Geraldine Grundy, this time as an English teacher. She’s wearing a white cardigan with gold embroidery that I think is supposed to have some sort of angelic effect but I am too consumed with the question WHY THE FUCK IS SHE HERE to really be persuaded. She’s taking over for Mrs. Thornton. Archie looks very smitten immediately. Grundy claims to have attended Mt. Holyoke together with Mrs. Thornton and in the name of Emily Dickinson, I banish thee! Shoo! Away with you! So she seems to appreciate Archie’s poetry from what she’s heard from Mrs. Thornton. Archie wants to keep things discreet because his uncle hates the idea of his writing poetry. But then Grundy ruins it by whispering “IT CAN BE OUR LITTLE SECRET” like a total creeper, then she dangles her husband, an alleged poet.

In the Principal’s office, the hideous white men are going over their loot of confiscated comic books. There’s so many of these. Werther’s is very pissed off. There’s something about his presence that renders his lover (sorry, I just keep interjecting my headcanon about this but otherwise their relationship makes no sense to me) Featherhead completely mute. I don’t care about them enough to go all the way back and check, but I feel like at some point Werther’s dominance became such that Featherhead just nods and mimes with his face when Werthers is speaking. Werthers wants to do something he calls “Full measures.” Kevin’s dad makes like Kevin and is spineless.

Meanwhile, in English class, Veronica is doing King Lear. She’s giving Cordelia’s refusal speech. The person who understands exactly what Veronica is going through, with an overbearing, criminal father, is Cheryl. Betty is sad because Veronica is clearly sad, but it’s Cheryl that understands her. While this excellence is going on, Grundy is fucking making eyes at Archie, who reciprocates because he doesn’t ever not.

Later that day, Veronica brings an affidavit with the correct set of lies to her father. She says she did it for her mother, then starts laying out conditions. She wants her father to tell her mother that he’s cheating on her. She also wants the title to the Pembroke. The way this father daughter pair constantly fight over real estate, and the supreme importance of paperwork to their relationship is an odd constant. I have issues with Cordelia - The great tragedy of King Lear, to me, isn’t that King Lear has evil daughters. It’s that King Lear is a deeply stupid man who favored the child who most directly inherited his deep stupidity, the extremely stupid Cordelia. I am immensely satisfied that Veronica finds a very Goneril/Regan type of solution to her Cordelia problem. Good for her. There’s a reason I love her so much.

At the post office, Betty collects a literal BAG of mail. Did post office rules in the US change sometime after the fifties? Because you can’t actually send things that are addressed to something like “The Girl Next Door.” The US Postal Service literally will not deliver if you give your addressee a title like that. Oh but I guess this is Riverdale, not the US of A? Or did Betty somehow manage to like, actually establish an LLC or something with the name “Girl Next Door”?!

Hermione has come home to the Pembroke literally the afternoon of the morning Hiram left, I guess. Veronica says as much. Hermione says that Oh Mija is going to shutter after “seven long seasons” because she is “ready for something new.” She has extremely nervous hands while she’s announcing this plan to Veronica, fidgeting with her gloves and twitching her fingers. I think she has to let out her feelings in this digital dance because the expressive muscles of her face do not move much at all. She also adds almost like an afterthought that she will be divorcing Hiram. Veronica seems not particularly perturbed by this news. She reacts like she’s Hermione’s older sister, rather than her daughter. “What will you do?” as in - how will you cope? But also What will you live on? and so forth. Hermione manipulates a promise to not have to spend Christmas by herself from Veronica, as though none of the rest of the season have actually happened.

What absolute assholes both Hiram and Hermione are. They both abandoned Veronica, banished her, locked her out of the house rendering her homeless on purpose in order to punish her for getting in the way of their parking lot real estate deal, but when the going gets tough, they both come to see her to demand her company, her fidelity and her services. And she gives it to them, because Veronica is second only to Jughead Jones as the most love-starved character on Riverdale. Poor baby.

Jughead gets to school the next day to fine that the whole student body is lined up with armfuls of comic books, trying to sell them to Werther. Dilton doesn’t see what the harm would be, but later we are shown. There is a cartoon Nazi style book burning which I would bet is taken shot for shot from Indiana Jones. Cheryl is standing in for the Nazi Elsa (which is so not fair to her but ok) crying tears over the destruction of free speech and art. The Riverdale Adventure Scouts stand in for the Indiana Jones Hitler Jugend.

#riverdale season 7 #riverdale episode 130 #riverdale 7x13 #riverdale s7 recap #riverdale s7 #riverdale episode recap

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