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leupagus · 7 months

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Please note that this fic is going to take the better part of 2024 and probably 2025

(and given my track record might never be done):

Sansa

"Do you like the taste?" asked Littlefinger, watching her closely as she tried the wine. He always watched her closely.

They had stopped at the Inn at the Crossroads; she hadn't wanted to, but she would have had to explain to Littlefinger why. So she had choked down a meal and refused to think about the last time she had come through this way, where the first member of her family had been murdered in the stable while Joffrey had sniveled and lied and shown her, for the first time, who he really was.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," she answered. "Why do men love it so much?"

Littlefinger shrugged. "It gives some men courage."

"Does it give you courage?"

He smiled, the way he did when she had stung him. He would take his revenge on her somehow, she knew. He was nothing like Joffrey, but there was a smallness to him that reminded her of the king.

The dead king, now.

A flash of armor to her right made her look up; a familiar woman, tall and broad of shoulder in a suit of armor, had approached their table. "Lord Baelish. Lady Sansa. My name is Brienne of Tarth."

Sansa opened her mouth to reply, to tell her she knew who she was, of course she knew. Tyrion had mentioned her often, usually after rebuffing yet another request by the lady of Tarth for an audience with Sansa. I hope you don't mind, and Jaime vouches for her, but Cersei has made it clear she's to go nowhere near you and frankly this giantess makes me a bit nervy. He'd been glad to recount the tale of Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime, traipsing through the Riverlands on their way to King's Landing.

Before Sansa could speak a word, Littlefinger had made some cutting remark, the sort he was so good at. She'd yet to be on the receiving end of any of them but she flinched all the same, watching Brienne's face. Littlefinger was something like Joffrey — and something like herself, too, when she'd been young and pleased at her own wit. Looking back, she knew now that she had only ever been cruel.

Lady Brienne seemed not even to hear Littlefinger; as though he were no more than a gnat to be tolerated until such moment as he could be swatted. She knelt, awkward but not clumsy, and looked earnestly up at her. "Lady Sansa. Before your mother's death, I was her sworn sword. I gave my word I would find you and protect you. I will shield your back and keep your counsel, and give my life for you if needs be. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."

Would she have given the answering vow? She would never know, because once again Littlefinger was talking, sliding his glance over to Sansa to see what remarks might prompt a reaction. Sansa stayed still and watched as Lady Brienne's attention was at least drawn away, glaring at Littlefinger.

"Strange," Littlefinger was saying. "I knew Cat since the time we were children. She never mentioned you."

"It was after Renly's murder," said Lady Brienne, direct and blunt. She and Sandor would get along well, Sansa thought suddenly. Pity they had never met.

"Ah, yes," said Littlefinger. "You were accused of killing him."

Lady Brienne blushed, a splotchy red spreading across her cheeks. Shame, Sansa thought, but not guilt. "I tried to save him," she spat out. She did not glance over, to see if Sansa would believe her.

"But you were accused."

"By men who did not see what happened."

"And what did happen?"

"He was murdered by a shadow. A shadow with the face of Stannis Baratheon."

"A shadow? With a face?" Littlefinger turned to Sansa, and that was when she knew whatever he was about to say was a lie. "This woman swore to protect Renly. She failed. She swore to protect your mother. She failed." He smirked up at Lady Brienne. "Why would I want somebody with your history of failure guarding Lady Sansa?"

Lady Brienne made a face. "Why would you have any say in her affairs?"

"Because I am her uncle. I married her Aunt Lysa shortly before my beloved's untimely death. We're family now. And you are an outsider. Forgive me, Lady Brienne. But experience has made me wary of outsiders."

She gaped at him, then looked back at Sansa. "Lady Sansa," she said, and paused, as though at a loss for how to convince her. "If we can have a word alone?"

"Yes." Sansa rose, knocking into the table. The goblet of wine spilled and ran down her dress, but she was on her feet at last. The sellswords Littlefinger had brought with him moved in, one of them putting a hand on Lady Brienne's shoulder. She tensed and in just a few seconds there would be bloodshed, there would be someone dead on the floor and it would be her fault.

"Uncle Petyr," she said loudly, her heart rabbiting out of her chest, "Thank you very much for understanding. I will speak with Lady Brienne as you suggest, and then we shall resume our journey."

The sounds of eating and talking died out as faces turned toward her. A round-faced boy came bustling up, a wide, customer-friendly smile pasted on his face. "Is there anything I can help with, milord?" he chirruped.

"A room for the ladies," said Littlefinger, still watching her. She nodded very slightly and his mouth twitched.

"Have you anything on the floor above?" she added, addressing the boy with a nervous glance toward Lady Brienne.

"Er," came the reply, "Yes? Right this way, milady. Miladies."

Sansa leaned toward Littlefinger. He smelled of wine and the oils he used on his hair. "Could some of the guards watch the door?" she whispered. "And some near the stairs. Just…in case."

"Of course," he said, though his eyes were on her mouth.

The way Littlefinger had spoken of her mother, there had been a great rivalry between himself and Ned Stark; and before that a rivalry between himself and her uncle Brandon, who'd been betrothed to Catelyn before his murder. Littlefinger had always sounded like the defeated lover, the man who had nearly won his beloved's hand.

Mother had never mentioned Littlefinger. Father had, once they were in King's Landing and he'd been forced to admit an acquaintance. He'd sounded irritated more than angry; her mother had never loved him, had hardly ever thought of him. Her parents had lived and loved each other and all the while Littlefinger had stewed in his own curdled affections, imagining a love story that had never existed.

She could never decide what had moved her to kiss him on the cheek. Perhaps it had been a clever ploy to distract him, or a way to tell him she would return. She would have liked to have been that clever. But in the moment she could remember only how sorry she felt for him. "I'll just be a few moments," she promised him, lying.

Minutes later she was in a small bedchamber, with two dirty windows on each outside wall and the ominous creak of leather and metal just outside the door, signaling that Littlefinger's sellswords had taken up position. Lady Brienne, for her part, looked as uncomfortable as she had downstairs. "Thank you for speaking with me, my lady," she said.

"Can you fight them all?" Sansa asked her, keeping her voice down. They would need to be overheard soon, but they had a few seconds. Enough time, perhaps enough time. "If there's four in the corridor, and four downstairs."

"What? Yes, of course," said Lady Brienne, expression torn between confusion and offense. She fought off a bear once, Tyrion had told her with glee. Even beat my dear brother in a sword fight. When he still had both hands.

Sansa went to the first window. A long drop onto hard ground, and it faced the road as well as the hitching posts. The second was more promising: hay bales stacked haphazardly next to the wall, and the wood only twenty hards away.

"Start talking," she hissed at Lady Brienne.

She frowned. "I'm sorry?"

Sansa mimed opening the window. "Start talking. About anything. Honor or duty or what my mother was like. Whatever you'd say if you were trying to convince me."

Lady Brienne's eyes widened in understanding. "I…am not much for speeches, my lady," she said slowly, then more loudly as Sansa pulled open the window slowly, mindful of any squeaking. "But I found your mother an honorable woman, and your brother too. I brought Ser Jaime Lannister back to King's Landing at her request, so that you might be returned to your mother in exchange."

It would never have worked; she'd known that even then. The Lannisters did not understand the notion of letting go of an advantage, once they'd sunk their teeth into one. Even Tyrion had never offered to take her to her family once they'd been married. He'd had his reasons, and they had been good ones, but she'd learned another lesson that day. "So you sacrificed your oath to protect my mother for an oath to protect me?" she asked, making sure her voice carried as she swung her legs over the sill. "How can I know you'll not abandon me, too?"

It was important not to think. If she thought about it, she wouldn't do it.

She held her breath, put her hands over her mouth, and fell.

#yes I know they stop at AN inn not necessarily THE inn at the crossroads #but any excuse to have Hot Pie in a scene #also curious how people will react to Sansa Stark: Girl Who Jumps From Windows #because she does in canon but lbr that's after some uhhh gnarly shit goes down #would sansa do that if not pushed as far as she was at the end of season 5?#let's find out!#game of thrones #got: bitches get stuff done

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mysoncookie · 4 months

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BNHA Dabi-Centric fic recs

Artificial Parenthood, Affectionate Brotherhood by cereal_whore

Teen & Up, Gen, No Archive Warnings

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 208,780

Has an On Going Series Called "Dabi says fuck the human species: artificial natural selection addition"

Summary: 22-year-old dabi switches place with ten-year-old touya todoroki in their timeline Bakugou, a single child with the social skills of an apathetic gamer, runs into a cellular mass of anxiety that vibrates the same murderous rage of a chihuahua. Said kid is as problematic as Bakugou himself, is a ginger, does not fear the laws of this land, and doesn't even seem to be from this land- or more accurately, time. Between Bakugou's homicidal urges, Todoroki Shouto's lack of filter, and God's middle finger, lies the Pandora's Box of the Todoroki's household secrets, in the form of a child named Touya Todoroki, who hates fish and has never heard of Minecraft. Todoroki Shouto just wants joint custody over his own older brother who's now inexplicably ten-years-old. So clearly, the only effective solution would be to force Bakugou to adopt him and all his other siblings. Meanwhile, Dabi, still in a world that never wanted him, learns that maybe an old dog can't learn new tricks (a truth he realises, when he finds himself reunited with a nine-year-old Shigaraki, who might not be past saving, the way he will be a decade later).

Lay Me on a Pyre (Sacrifice me for your sins) by RadioSilencer

General Audience, Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 29,126

Summary: “Ah, and I hate to do this to you, but there’s a couple questions we have to ask since you’re awake now. Is that all right?” Wondering why his input was needed for that, Touya nodded. Anything they wanted. Whatever he could do to be less of an embarrassment. “Okay then, tell me if you need a moment whenever,” the woman started, “your name.” “Todoroki.” Even if he wished it wasn’t (and everyone else probably did too). “Todoroki Touya.” (A bystander loses control, and Todoroki Touya opens his eyes to a brighter world than he left behind.)

By Any Other Name by SatelliteBlue

Teen & Up, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 258,617

Has an On Going series called "Will you accept this rose?"

Summary: Through some freak accident of the universe, Dabi has been invited to compete on The Bachelorette. Have they actually seen his face? Surprisingly yes, and they still want him. For this season they apparently need a ‘bad boy’ to both balance out the hero contestant (why in hell is Hawks involved?) and to trash talk the show in interviews to appeal to audiences who don’t like the scripting. Getting sent on a vacation away from his annoying bandmates to complain and eat as much free food as he wants? Sold.

The Difference Between an Heir and a Son by ofHeartmateAndSoulbeats

General Audience, Gen, No Archive Warning Apply

Available on Ao3, On Going | Wordcount: 11,774

Summary: ...because if Enji had ever loved any of his children, it would have been Touya

Brother by Dreamy_Cel_100

Teen & Up, M/M, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 79,561

Summary: Todoroki Touya has never known comfort. He just didn’t realize he wasn’t the only one. Or When Touya runs away, he decides to take his kid brother. And instead of joining villainy he attempts to create the home he never had.

Sins of the Father by kanekki

Teen & Up, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 32,411

Has a Complete Series called "the hellish todoroki family"

Summary: Shouto’s lower lip wobbles as he cries. “M-Momma hurt me and Father sent her away. I m-miss you Touya, please come home. It’s scary without you.”

“Alright,” Dabi says soothingly while he glares at the heroes, “We’re going to my place then. Your nii-san’s going to protect you now, okay?”

Shouto is accidentally rewound by Eri’s quirk in the middle of a villain attack, reverting him to a small child with no memories of his future. Dabi takes the opportunity to bring Shouto with him to the League of Villains headquarters to remove him from Endeavor’s clutches.

little brother, we are all grieving by jurassicqueer (kukurosaki)

Mature, Gen, M/M, No Archive Warnings Apply

Available on Ao3, Complete | Wordcount: 29,561

Summary: When a teenager is dragged into a police station by someone with a self-proclaimed de-aging quirk, it seems too improbable that one of the most notorious villains in Japan could actually be reverted to a scrawny sixteen year old.

But then the blood tests come back, and the quirk labs hand in their results, and it seems that Dabi really is a teenager again- and claiming to be the dead Todoroki Touya, of all things.

OR: Touya never expected to wake up a wanted fugitive, but with his luck, he's hardly surprised.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

as per requested from my previous post I updated my fic recs on dabi and ofc I added the bachelorette au that y'all been talking about tnx to @attackontreason for recommending it ksksks

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gortash-did-nothing-wrong · 26 days

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Fatherhood

Warnings: mentions of spanking children, mentions of Enver being abused as a child, incredibly brief mentions of a child wandering off and their mother panicking, implied murder but it's barely touched on.

Enver is a bit of a conundrum as a father, you've come to realize by the time your oldest is seven. He is equally strict and lenient. He demands his children have a rigorous study regimen with the best tutors money and blackmail can get, and an active lifestyle. He's less strict about their physical activity, allowing them to simply pick a hobby that requires physical prowess and he arranged for tutors and coaches to help them excel at it. Their oldest takes a fancy to horseback riding and Enver arranges for a purebred warhorse to be delivered to his stables.

"Absolutely not." You say firmly, disappointing your seven year old daughter. "She's not even four feet tall yet, a fall from that beast would kill her!"

"Well my dearest, I believe the point is that she stays in the saddle." He teased.

You threw a handful of hay at his head. The next day there was an age appropriate pony in the stables instead.

Your second child wanders off in town one day, and three panic attacks later, you find him at a blacksmith shop, staring wide eyed as a lovely tiefling man explains to him the process of smelting ore. You grab your five year old boy, holding him in your arms as you apologize. "I am so very sorry, he's a very curious boy, and fast on his feet!"

"No trouble at all." Damon, he introduces himself as, says. "In fact, I'm in the market for some help around the forge?"

Your son spends his weekends at Damon's shop, carrying buckets of coal, writing down orders, and even sometimes swinging a hammer. Enver is beside himself with joy at the sight of his son dirty with soot and his hands blistered.

"And a fine young smith he'll make!" Enver proclaims. "He's got my broad shoulders after all, and look at those hands! They'll only get tougher with every blister, my boy!"

"Isn't he a bit young for so much labor?" You asked, applying some ointment and bandages to your son's hands. "He's not even getting paid."

Damon had offered your son five copper a week, generous for the labor a five year old could provide. Enver had refused, instead sending his son to Damon with one hundred gold a week for the blacksmithing lessons.

"Experience is more valuable at his age than coin. And come now, my dear wife, money is of no issue to us. Anything he wants I'll just buy him!"

Ah, yes, Enver's leniency. As strict as Enver was about demanding his children perform well in their studies, when it came to other areas of life your children were somewhat spoiled. Your daughter had a new outfit every other week it seemed, and both your children's pockets were often filled with candy. They had new toys monthly, their old ones being donated to the orphanages whenever they piled up. Enver saw no point denying them anything.

Until they required discipline. Something you found out about your husband was that he refused to ever hit your children, not even a light smack on the back of their hand. The idea disgusted him whenever you mentioned it. He forbid you from raising a hand to them, something that you found difficult on days when they tried your patience but ultimately you managed. One of your nursemaids had spanked your oldest lightly when she was caught trying to climb out of a window to see if she could run across the rooftop like a cat. Enver had found out, and despite you trying to save the woman's job, you had never seen her again. You doubt she was simply fired, though. Even after the nether brain was defeated and certain activities of your husband stopped... He always had some kind of experiment or tribute to Bane going on. You suspect the woman was a victim to one of them, despite her spanking being a product of fearing for your daughter's life.

The only punishment Enver ever inflicted on his children were stern lectures, and denial of free time. Or the introduction of chores. Watching your oldest try to wash dishes in the kitchen as a punishment had been mildly amusing. Soap suds had gotten everywhere, and she was causing more issues than helping the staff, but the point was she hated doing it.

Your son was the more well behaved child, his only frequent bit of mischief was wandering off unannounced. And whenever he was found, he was either pouring over books in the library, up to his elbows in dirt outside, or sneaking into his father's workshop to 'borrow' tools.

Still, Enver was strict on both of your children conforming to the rules of the house, of which no running off was one. Your son was frequently punished with chores like sweeping, scrubbing, even laundry. After one particularly boring afternoon, you walked into the back yard of the estate to see your son having rigged up a mechanical washing system powered by a donkey your daughter had helped him lead over by his reins.

"Menaces." You mumbled, before going to fetch Enver. Thirty minutes later, you sat in a chair, drinking lemonade and watching Enver and your son both work on the mechanical washing system. "Men."

Your daughter, sitting next to you with a glass of apple juice, grunted in agreement. "Overgrown boys."

You remark on his odd parenting one evening as you feed your third child, a darling little girl that's only two. "I must say, I've never met a man of your status that doesn't occasionally hit his children. My father was quite strict with his belt, so are all of my brothers with their children."

"Your family hardly ever sees each other." Enver said pointedly, sipping a glass of bourbon as he reads the evening newspaper. "Didn't you go five years without even speaking to your father?"

You pause, weighing his words. "Yes... I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm just curious what caused you to be so different. Is it a Lower City cultural norm to not spank your children?"

Enver snorts, abandoning his newspaper to go find his snuff box. "My father was more fond of his fists than his belt."

You feel your face grow pale. "Oh... I'm-"

"Don't." He says firmly, forgetting his pipe and tobacco in favor of coming to stand beside your chair. His hand, calloused yet gentle, pets your hair. "It's the past. It's over. And all those who have wronged me are either dead or worse." He says lowly.

He bends down, kissing your two year old on her chubby little cheek. "And my children will never fear their parents."

#enver gortash #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 enver gortash #dad enver #fluff #domestic #enver gortash headcanon #enver gortash x reader

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twstfanblog · 28 days

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Oh shit, would Cindy be similar to her counterpart and be Trein’s stepdaughter? Or maybe he took her in as a child to try and take his mind off his wife’s passing and thought ‘ah yes, a play mate for my daughters to distract them from their grief and now I don’t have time to worry about my grief with three children in the house to take care of’ but is slowly regretting it the more problems she causes like 'maybe i should've actually grieved instead of impulsively adopting a child.'

in the aftermath of the original plot he definitely kicked her out of the house for MURDERING A NOBLE

AH this is about to get pretty confusing because theres about to be THREE Cindys mentioned but, Cindy's backstory is as follows.

FL Cindy (FLCindy) pops into Original Cindy's (OGCindy) body after a mishap with her 'evil' stepsisters. While cleaning, the other girls were playing around and accidently knocked OGCindy out a window.

From there FLCindy lives in that household, dad dies, stepmother 'shows her true colors'. Basic cinderella tale until Yuu's death. From there FLCindy is kicked out of the family home since they've been sick of her shit for years at this point, being the reason the empire darling was killed was the cherry on the shit cake.

In the Manhwa A timeline (AFLCindy), things are different once AFLCindy wakes up from her tumble out the window. In an effort to make her life 'easier' she lies to her dad about how awful the step family are to her. He, believing his 'sweet girl' wouldn't lie about such things and the fact stepmother DOES make the children clean instead of relying on the maids, divorces her pretty quick. He remarries just as quick to a woman who dotes and spoils AFLCindy since she has no children of her own, lowkey making AFLCindy even more insufferable this time around.

Due to the stress of finding a new home and husband to look after her daughters, step mother falls ill and dies.

LUCKILY, (????) Stepmother had an older brother who recently lost his wife and is left all alone with his poor infant son. Hearing of his sister's passing, he's quick to bring the girls into his home and raise them as his own.

And while the step sisters miss their mother, father Trein is more than a wonderful parent to them. PLUS, cute baby brother! (Much better and easier to get along with than CINDY).

The step sisters will most likely make an appearance in the later arcs. They've got serious beef with AFLCindy...

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #manhwa au

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percervall · 23 days

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this or that (rpf greek mythversion)

- hades!james x persephone!carlos OR achilles!charles x patroclus!carlos

- helen-of-troy!lewis x paris!sebastian OR orpheus!carlos x euridyce!charles

Is today hurt Mar day? 🥺

Okay but here's how I see each of these play out:

Carlos, fearing his fate is about to be sealed by the Gods, who knows his parental figure is about to sell him to the highest bidder, decides to take the reigns on his own fate and finds a way to the depths of the paddock where he can hide away in the Williams garage until he figures out what's next. How was he to know the team principle is just as suave as he is nerdy? How was he to resist that combination, resist someone who will finally challenge his intellect? And so he becomes James' right hand, helps him rebuild the team to something that resembles the glory days of the '80s, putting the fear of the Gods into whoever doubted Carlos' skill and talent

Charles, natural born soldier for The Cause, who will do what needs to be done always, who falls in love for his childhood best friend -a boy marked with trepidation but who will follow Charles to the ends of the earth, will be by his side and be the voice of reason and compassion with the heart of a poet: he is half of my soul, as the poets says.

“Name one hero who was happy." I considered. Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason's children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus' back. "You can't." He was sitting up now, leaning forward. "I can't." "I know. They never let you be famous AND happy." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret." "Tell me." I loved it when he was like this. "I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it." "Why me?" "Because you're the reason. Swear it." "I swear it," I said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes. "I swear it," he echoed. We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned. "I feel like I could eat the world raw.”

^Charlos fighting the evil that is Ferrari strategy anyone? Excuse me while I go throw myself of a fucking cliff

Ah yes, throw in more PAIN

Lewis, who lets Sebastian think that he is saving Lewis from a cruel husband (Nico? Toto? Pick your poison) as they run away together to Maranello, only for Lewis' husband to declare war upon Ferrari for stealing him. The war lasts ten years and ends with Mercedes sending an army hidden in the belly of a prancing horse into the heart of Ferrari which leads to the destruction of Ferrari's legions. And Seb? Oh, Seb dies a painful death defending Lewis' honour, only for Lewis to enact the ultimate act of betrayal and help Mercedes beat Ferrari and returning home to his husband, not even sparing Sebastian a second thought.

(I swapped them in this because it just makes more sense)

A bitter Carlos meets the talented Charles, who plays the most beautiful melodies on his lyre and somehow falls in love with Carlos within minutes of seeing him and convinced to marry only for their fate to take a terrible turn. And so when Carlos dies, Charles is so distraught, he sings about it until he can sing no more -the Gods and nymphs and muses alike weeping in sorrow as he does. And so in a flit of madness, Charles decides to decent into the depths of the underworld to convince Ferrari to let him return to Earth with his lover. And Ferrari, cruel as they are grant Charles' wish on the one condition: whatever you do, do not look back when Carlos follows you. And poor naive Charles is eager to accept because he would move heaven and earth if it meant he could have his husband back and surely this is an easy task? Oh how wrong he was. The road back to Earth is long, and dark, and narrow, and the souls haunt the catacombs of the underworld, their wailing enough to make Charles' bravado waiver because how can he know for sure his love is behind him still if he cannot see him -cannot hear him? And so the doubt sets in, climbing up his spine and grabbing him by the throat and as Ferrari laugh at Charles' failings, he turns around just mere paces away from Earth, condemning his lover to a life in the underworld. And Charles tries to follow Carlos but no mortal can enter the underworld twice, so he is condemned to live a life in the knowledge he lost the love of his life twice. All he can play are songs of mourning, hoping that maybe once Charles himself dies, they will be together once more

this is in no way an answer to the original question but I hope you can see that I cannot pick because it all hurts

#ask #ivy asks #greek mythology x f1

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kingsmoot · 3 months

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ahhh i sent this ask to wormlips accidentally i got confused by the wams pfps >_<. still i want to hear your opinion on this -- what do you think the ramsay's mom miller's wife was like as a person, have you any thoughts? and what do you think theon's lover miller's wife was like? also, on the horrible miller's wife multiverse, what's your opinion on the theory that the younger miller's boy was theon's bastard --- some reckon it adds an ironic what qualifies as kinslaying tragedy, others find it excessive and that it takes away from theon organically thinking about smallfolk and feeling regret unbefitting of his once-place on the social ladder.

ah what an honor to be mixed up w my friend @wormlips 🪳🩷🪱 who did btw answer this question here:

ok i will give you my first headcanon which is that ramsay's mom and the miller's wife of acorn water are the same woman. this is directly refuted by canon because theon's part time lover lives in acorn water while the woman roose rapes lives next to the weeping water stream. but genuinely idc. maybe she moved!! i think this being the same miller's wife adds a perfect layer of abject horror onto a very tall layer cake of abject horror after abject horror so this is a part of my belief system.

also sorry i think the theory that the miller's wife's children are theon's is ridiculous. maybe george can't do math but i can. and in this particular instance so can george, actually.

the boys theon killed were of an age with bran and rickon in acok. that would make them around 9 and 4, respectively. theon in acok is 19, so for both of them to have been his that means that he would have impregnated the miller's wife at age NINE and sixteen. that's bananas. this man was not banging the neighborhood milf at NINE. he would have JUST gotten to winterfell and more importantly he would have been NINE YEARS OLD.

i also don't think it's really implied at all. in fact in adwd theon even says that he's no kinslayer because he didn't really kill his baby brothers, bran and rickon, just some miller's sons...

and does this underscore the class divide in westeros? yes. but ALSO: ramsay was actually the one to kill them and cut off their faces otis driftwood style. and who is actually a kinslayer and has murdered one half brother already? wams. so i think it makes narrative sense if those kiddos that theon passed off as the corpses of bran and rickon were wams' half brothers. which he also would have known.

because like. i know "the cycles are cycling" is this website's full time greek choir chant but it's truuuuue. that's like rams' whole... thing. he is the culmination of roose's scorched earth cruelty. he will be the end of house bolton. he was made by the man he is destined to destroy. he will devour every last trace of this once great house. every prodigal son. every swaddling babe. every new bastard and every new heir. utter desolation. and he serves as the same kind of mirror to theon as he does to roose!! reflecting theon's cruelty, sexual violence, and lack of self back at him x1000. he is a reflection of the father and of his fellow rejected/abandoned son. he is the culmination of both of their mounting cruelty it's SO GOOD it's such a rich vein in the narrative 🥰

AND ADDITIONALLY it feels in character that wams-disguised-as-reek could have seen his mom when she sold ser rodrick hay on their way from the dreadfort to winterfell and she would not have said anything about wams being her child, roose bolton's bastard, for TWO reasons:

1. canonically, everyone and their dog and their dog's cousin and their dog's cousin's third aunt saw ramsay with his PIERCING WHITE SCLERA LENS EYES and BOTTLE BLACK HAIR after he was captured from THE FOREST SURROUNDING THE DREADFORT and thought "ok well that could mean anything" (can i just say. theon gets a lot of shit for this. which he deserves. but NO ONE ELSE GETS ANY SHIT AND I THINK THEY SHOULD. COME ON, GUYS. FUCK YOU IN PARTICULAR SER RODRICK.)

2. if she did recognize him (i think she would have) and she was his mama (i think she is) she would never ever ever ever give him up. she would have stayed silent.

why would i say so? because i really only have one thing to say about wamsay's mama which i've said before and which i'm never not thinking about. ramsay's mom, like cersei, has had everything taken from her. and the only way she can indirectly reclaim agency in this world is through what is given to her son.

she knew exactly what kind of man roose bolton was. she probably knew better and more intimately than most!! but she did not protect her son from him. just the opposite, she insisted that he claim him as his child. that he recognize his own. IT'S SO ROSEMARY'S BABY, LIKE.... BEAR WITNESS UNTO THAT WHICH YE HAVE WROUGHT, ROOSE!!!!! and then roose knows, of course. roose knows as soon as he sees that little boy that the child is his and he also knows exactly WHAT ramsay is. he knows that child will be the death of his house. but he also cannot refuse him!!! no man is so hated by the gods as the kinslayer!!! roose is bound to ramsay by blood!! chained to his own undoing by nature of being its creator!!

and then what does roose do?? puts a known murderer + serial rapist in charge of raising his own flesh and blood child. another thing that ramsay's mama does not protect him from. another thing she encourages, actually, because molding ramsay into a monster means he is more likely to get his due. her due. what is owed to him as the son of a great house. what is owed to her as a woman who had everything taken from her and no way to get any of it back. ANNIHILATION!!!

this got a little more word-vomity than i intended but i get too excited when i talk about this. it's like. good and interesting and important to me that ramsay's mama is not a blameless innocent victim who was brutalized and then did her best. she was brutalized and then she did everything in her power to make sure roose bolton got exactly what was coming to him. and she sacrificed her rape-baby to do it.

tysm for your question!

#ask tag #anonymous tag #ramsay tag

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sadlynotthevoid · 2 months

Text

I think we need at least one more bnha x dc crossover in a fusion AU way with bad parent Bruce just so we can have Trained Assassin Teen Jason go to UA in a rehab way (because I doubt bnha proheroes are really against killing in certain cases and Jason would flip that shitty distopia from inside out if given the chance, which he should have) and Stain go after Bruce's ass.

Outside Jason's interrogatory room:

Random diplomat: —and so we decided to consult with yourself, since this is... an exceptional case.

Nedzu: I knew there would be trouble to decide a punishment for the Red Hood, but I wonder what makes everyone so uncomfortable.

Random diplomat, who I'm going to call Jeff: Well, that's— why don't you take a look at him for yourself? *Activates one way mirror function*

Jason, a literal teen: *bored out of his mind, spinning in a swivel chair*

Nedzu, not a human but also in charge of a whole full school of teens: Ah. He's younger than I expected. Though that explains a lot of things.

Jeff: It does?

Nedzu: The decision of making Batman face the Joker to force him to kill him, despite his well known irrational protest against killing in all cases, instead of killing him himself makes more sense coming from a traumatized teenager in seek of safety and certainty.

Jeff: I see. Anyways, his age is one of the three reasons why it's nearly impossible for us to come to a conclusion.

Nedzu: Having in count his young age, I assume his life circumstances is other?

Jeff: Yes. The kid was interrogated by an agent with a range truth-type quirk before and— He was murdered. And resurrected, violently. Then spent a year or so under tha care of assassins.

Nedzu, smiling wide: Oho. So that's the reason.

Jeff: For his last antic, yes. Knowing this, it's hard to judge him because no one has gone under similar events before. Specially because his previous life wasn't exactly a normal one either.

Nedzu: By the way, what is the other reason?

Jeff: ...his fans would burn us alive if they discover we put him, a traumatized teen who almost got killed by his father, in prison for killing people who— under any working system— should end in life sentence or penal death.

["Sir, the crowd outside doubled its size."

"Again Ramírez? This is the third time already!"

"There's nothing I can do bout it. They aren't doing anything illegal."

"Anf onef ovf them gahve me a muffin."

"Johansson! Not eating during guard duty."

"He didn't have breakfast, sir."]

Nedzu: So that's the real reason.

Nedzu, already taking the legal papers: If we agree in a few things, then I'm willing to have him in UA to rehabilitate him.

Jeff: Of course.

Aizawa: *enters to Nedzu's office*

Tsukauchi, Jason and Nedzu already there: *turns heads to him at the same time*

Aizawa, a single father of twenty children: Oh no. What did they do now?

Tsukauchi: As far as I know, nothing yet this time.

Nedzu: Aizawa, take a seat. This is Jason, he's going to be part of your class starting today.

Aizawa: Isn't him a bit old?

Jason who has never been normal for a single day in his life: Apparently, I'm seventeen...ish. You should have seen me a week ago. I looked like 19 years old.

Tsukauchi: The doctor said it could be good for him if he could look at himself and see his real age, so recovery girl made a call.

Jason: It was a therapist. I've never had one of those before. And oh boy, wasn't she right? I only jumpscared myself twice this week.

Aizawa, already resigned to parent this kid: Hahhhhh.

Todoroki, going downstairs after a nightmare: *stops*

Jason, in the middle of a stress-baking session: *looks at him dead in the eyes while whisking cream*

Tokoyami, sitting in the dark for no reason: Revelry in the dark.

Jason, finishing yet another cake: More like a feast. Black forest, you two?

Todoroki: Sure.

Dark Shadow: Me three.

Aizawa: Class, due to recent events, you will have a new classmate joining you.

Jason: Sup.

Aizawa: This is Jason. He is—

Todoroki: An excellent chef. Thanks for the cake.

Aizawa, too used to their bs: —technically a criminal. But there were extreme circumstances and the global government agreed to let him free and give him a hero license if he graduates from Nedzu's hellish rehab program. Good luck.

Jason: Meh. Can't be worse than digging myself out.

The whole class: Hiiiih—

Aizawa: I was talking to them. They have a terrible low terror resistance and you can traumatize anyone who talks with you for more than ten minutes.

By the way, in this AU Jason has a healing quirk. Because he deserves it and I like it how it goes with his name. Plus, the angst of baby Jay trying to heal his mom even after she had already died and it's only her corpse.

I was thinking it seemed like a normal healing quirk, but after he dies, resurrect and is thrown into the pit it evolves. As time pass, Jason finds more and more phoenix resembling features in his quirk.

#jason todd #bnha x dc crossover #aizawa shouta #nedzu #todoroki shouto #fumikage tokoyami #they're friends now #this started because i want stain to go after bruce so bad #jason's legal guardian is tsukauchi because they let him choose #the options were some of the pros involved in his case one of the medics and tsukauchi #and he went with tsukauchi bc his quirk can tell if he's lying or saying the truth #so he will believe him if something happened #plus tsukauchi is chill and won't call him out unless is a serious matter #naomasa tsukauchi

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stealingpotatoes · 1 year

Note

HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW AHSOKA EPISODE IM SCREAMING

I HAVE and this is honestly the first week i've been actually invested in watching the next ep omg!!! they're doing interesting stuff!!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

THERE'S SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT OMG. first of all i have to say the late great ray stevenson/ baylan is absolutely the highlight of the show acting & character wise, there's so much depth he's putting into the character somehow like every line he says i'm shoving sabine and ahsoka aside like this is my new fave sorry lesbians. biggest cuntserve of the show

HOWEVER COMMA THE REASON I'M SO INVESTED IS BC IT'S SUCH A GREAT WRITING CHOICE TO HAVE SABINE GIVE INTO HER ATTACHMENTS AND JOIN THE THRAWN STANS TO GET EZRA BACK. YES!!! SHE WOULD!!! she isn't ready to let go of her attachments!!! she won't do as ahsoka says!! fuckin anakincore of her!!! willing to raze the galaxy for the last few parts of her family!! LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT TO SEE WHERE THIS GOES

Also I think the direction was a lot better? I'm shit at clocking how good fight scene direction is but there were a lot of scenes that just felt so much stronger than the prev eps? like when sabine puts the ball in baylan's hand they made you FEEL the weight of that moment with the pacing and camera and the sound design.

ACTUALLY THO THE FIGHT SCENES WERE A LOT BETTER THIS EP partly bc there was just. More to them? i liked how ahsoka dealt w marrok in 2 seconds basically indiana jones shooting the sword guy style bc that made the baylan/ahsoka fight SO MUCH MORE IMPACTFUL bc she's seriously trying and she's flipping and doing all this crazy stuff that makes you go shittttt these guys are super great jedi -- AND ALL WHILE trying to get the map so it wasnt just a "we're fighting bc we're fighting/ to not die" there was a very feasible objective on-hand to make the already great fight even better

and of course i have to talk abt That. i was poggin beyond belief when hayden showed up like LETS GOOOOOOO. and its super cool!!!!! but i do hope they do smthn interesting with this tho (I HAVE FAITH IN THIS SHOW AFTER THIS WEEK SO I'M HOPEFUL) and actually explore ahsoka and the super fuckedup complicated relationship she has w anakin/vader instead of going "ah its so nice to see you again!! im gonna ignore you murdered children and all our friends and tried to kill me etc etc bc people want to see us as friends!" like no i dont want that!! this should be her opportunity to work w the trauma they keep hinting at but not rlly exploring (ie w her taking on forceless sabine as a padawan or how she keeps acting like all that happened was she walked away from anakin and he didnt fall. it could be good writing for trauma) and have ahsoka like... accept the past accept what her master became and MAKE ME INVESTED IN THIS ITERATION OF THE CHARACTER. BC THERE HAS BEEN LIKE NO CHARACTER MOMENTS AND IT'S NOT HELPED BY THE ACTING/ WRITING!!

also did ezra yoinking her outta the world between worlds give her nine lives is she just gonna be able to walk out after dying again

#ahsoka spoilers #thanks for the ask!#IM ACTUALLY HYPED FOR NEXT WEEK FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE IT STARTED #tho it says dave filoni is the director again and the first ep had like. Bad direction/editing loll so im less hyped for that

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princess-of-the-corner · 4 months

Note

I was about to give you another fun fact about how Astruc accidentally made a past Ladybug Miraculous user work for Richelieu (his guards were also Musketeers, after all), but I checked the wiki to see if there was any news... And turns out La Coccinelle has been named as René d'Herblay Aramis de Vannes - that is the inspiration for Dumas' Aramis that appears in the Three Musketeers novels (I say inspiration because Dumas took a lot of liberties, starting with the fact the historic inspirations for D'Artagnan and the other three were children by the time the first novel was set). And he also turned him into a woman.

And at that I actually laughed, because I'm old enough to remember Anime Sanjuushi, the Three Musketeers anime from 1987 (it had a few reruns in Italy in the 1990s)... And guess who was also a girl there?

And as I was writing the post I laughed AGAIN because I also remembered what kind of guy Dumas' Aramis is. He had planned to become a Jesuit since he was a child, but some guy insulted him so he dropped everything and spent a year learning the art of the sword just to murder that guy in a duel, at which point he had to become a Musketeer. And then he became one at the end of The Three Musketeers after Milady's execution sullied the soldier's life for him, only to return to the saddle in Twenty Years Later because he was restless as a priest. And in the third novel... Better I avoid giving spoilers beyond saying he pulled a lot of BS.

I'll let pass how Astruc seems to have forgotten that the Musketeers primary weapon was in fact their namesake musket (those novels only show them ONCE in a situation where they could use it, so it's easy to forget)... But seriously, does Astruc EVER think such things through?

..... Gonna be honest I never really thought about the Musketeers being named after muskets every depiction of them uses swords

But also yeah I think he just. Yoinks people from history and says 'ah yes give them a Miraculous'.

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mercury-crux · 2 years

Text

Limited Life Incorrect Quotes

Pearl: I know this isn’t going to end well and I don’t care. So don’t you try and stop me, Martyn! Martyn: I wasn’t stopping you. I was asking if you had a spare camera so I can record this.

Cleo: Why aren’t you sleeping? Scar: I’m too busy plotting your murder to sleep, Cleo. Cleo: Scar: …The nightmares. Cleo: wrapping their arms around Scar Awwww, sweetie-

Grian: Thought I was meowing back at my cat for the past hour, but it was just me and Martyn meowing at each other from different rooms in the house.

Martyn: Life could be worse, BigB. BigB: Life could be a lot better too!

Bdubs: Hey, Cleo! Did you know your my BFFLWYLION? Cleo: What the hell is that supposed to mean? Bdubs: Best Friend For Life Whether You Like It Or Not. Cleo: Cleo: That’s one way to say it, I guess…

Impulse: Hey, Scott? Can I get some dating advice? Scott: Just because I'm with Martyn doesn't mean I know how I did it.

Scott: Hey, can you do me a favor? Martyn: Sorry, I have to go do literally anything other than this. Scott: You don’t even have a legitimate reason? Martyn: Oh, no, I do. Scott: Well, what is it? Martyn: You see, I simply don’t give a fuck.

Martyn: Question, how difficult would it be to bowl in a bee suit? BigB: Not that hard, I don't think, as long as you can move. Scar: I'd assume as hard as it is to bowl in a maid outfit. Scar: Wouldn't be any harder, but you'd get some WEIRD looks. Grian: Are. Are you speaking from experience. Scar: No! Scar: Scar: ….Maybe.

BigB: Did you ever have like a pet run away and find it or anything? Jimmy: I had a lizard that I burnt.

BigB, digging their grave: Long story short, this is my grave…….Want me to make you one too?

Skizz: I’d like to live through a week that’s not a whole new verse of “We Didn’t Start the Fire.”

Grian: Did you take out Martyn as I requested? Joel: Martyn has been taken out, yes. Grian: You have my grat- Joel: It was a great restaurant. Joel: We had a romantic candlelit dinner. Joel: Martyn proposed afterwards- we’re filing the wedding papers.

Joel: I’m quick at math. Jimmy: Ok, what’s 38 times 76? Joel: 24. Jimmy: That wasn’t even close. Joel: But it was quick.

Bdubs: Standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like ‘look at this fucking flower. This flower is taller than I am. This flower is winning and I’m losing.’ Grian: Wow, you are not ready to hear about trees.

Cleo: Are you laughing at that video of Pearl and Jimmy fighting? Etho: No. Etho: I'm laughing at the comments.

Scar: I have a bad feeling about this… Grian: What do you mean? Scar: Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble? Grian: No? Jimmy: That actually explains so much.

Joel: Hey, are you okay? Pearl: Yeah. Joel: You don't look okay… Pearl: Then stop looking.

Martyn: Ah shit, I forgot. Joel: Forgot what? Martyn: How do you expect me to answer that?

Pearl: I can be your partner for the next race. Cleo: Sorry, Pearl. It's a sibling race. Bdubs: Maybe there's a contest for lonely children after this. Cleo: It's only children, Bdubs. A lonely child is what you're gonna be when I sell you!

Cleo: I hate to tell you this, but one of you was adopted. Bdubs & Scar: Bdubs: Only one…?

BigB, at Cleo’s funeral: I need a moment with them. Everyone else at the funeral: Of course. leaves BigB, leaning over Cleo’s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead. Cleo, sitting up in the coffin: Yeah, no shit.

Bdubs: Why don't humans have a specific noise that means "there are bees here, let's leave immediately." Why are elephants more advanced than us. Etho: We do have a specific noise for it. It sounds like this: Etho: "There are bees here, let's leave immediately."

Joel and Grian's house is on fire, but they don't know it Joel: Damn, it's hot in here. Grian: I know, it's so hot there's smoke coming out of the vent! Joel: Joel: First of all, I'm assuming you have no idea what the problem with that statement is. Grian: What? Joel: Second of all, we need to get the fuck out of here, NOW.

Cleo: You can’t have a gun on stage! Tango: WRONG AGAIN! I can have a gun, and I must have a gun, that’s the rule of Chekhov’s Gun: have a gun. And now that it’s been seen, I will have to shoot someone before the end of the play.

BigB: Hey, do you know the password to Cleo’s computer? Pearl: Fuck you, BigB. BigB: Hey!! Pearl: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouBigB". BigB: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Bdubs: Wow, this parking is as straight as I am. Impulse: I know I should be focused on the fact that you just came out, but HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY PARKING!

Cleo: I’m not being weird. Am I being weird? Scar: Yes, and that’s coming from me.

Bdubs: You’re giving me a sticker? Cleo: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!” Bdubs: I’m not a preschooler. Cleo: Fine, I’ll take it back- Bdubs: I earned this, back off!

Scott: Do you want to play 20 Questions? Etho: Sure! Etho: Whats your favorite color? Scott, laser fucking focused: Triangle. Do you like men?

Tango: Would you rather kill Pearl, or— Scott: Yes, kill them. Tango: I didn’t say the other thing— Scott: I don’t need to hear it. Pearl: …I’m feeling a little unsafe.

Cleo: I came out here to attack people and I'm honestly having such a good time right now.

Etho: Did you buy eggs like I asked? Skizz: Even better! Etho: What the fuck did you- Skizz: holding up a chicken Her name is Fluffy.

Pearl: Remember that time you dared me to lick a swingset? Jimmy: No, I said "Pearl, don't lick that swingset" and you said "Don't tell me what to do" and licked the swingset.

Impulse: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait. Skizz: You and me! Impulse: tearing up Ok.

Cleo: Please could you go to the shop and get a carton of milk, if they have avacodos get six. Scar, coming back from the store with six cartons of milk: They had avacados!

BigB: I’m telling you, my team is competent. Jimmy, rushing in: BigB! Pearl tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken!

Scott: When I get murdered, can you make sure I become an unsolved case? Martyn: wHat? Scott: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved. Martyn: Can we go back to the part when you said "when I get murdered"?

Tango: The only thing I'm guilty of is being adorable… …and also assault with a deadly weapon.

Tango: I'm so happy, I could kiss you! Scar: Um…Neat. later Scar, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," BigB. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid. BigB, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Scar. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Grian confessed their love for me? Scar: Didn't you thank them? BigB: closes the book and looks at the ceiling I fucking thanked them.

Grian: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses. BigB: This knife is actually a magic wand. Bdubs: Meet me in the Denny’s parking lot for a wizard duel. Cleo: cocks gun Magic missile. Skizz: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

Pearl: I swear to god I'm the only one here with a braincell. Tango, Scott, Grian, and Etho: ALL HAIL the keeper of the sacred braincell!

Joel: Cleo doesn’t look very happy. Grian: That's their happy. They're just a bitch.

BigB: Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them? Pearl: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them. BigB: Okay yeah thanks Pearl, that's great but WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT?

Joel: I’m here for the cult stuff. BigB: How did you find us? Joel: I saw your ad on craigslist.

Tango: All right, y'all! Let's take a vote! Grian: A secret vote. Everyone close your eyes. the Squad closes their eyes Skizz: We don't see the result! Grian: Well, just say your vote out loud. Jimmy: Won't we recognize each other's voices? Joel: Tango has a point.

Pearl: Did you miss me while I was gone? Scott: You were gone?

Skizz: That was so hot, Tango. Tango: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets. Skizz: I'm so in love with you.

Joel: Do you guys want to see a butterfly? Etho: Ooh, yes please! Pearl, with their laptop open: I'm not going to stop working to look at a stupid bug! Joel: It's not a bug though… Pearl: … Etho: … Pearl: Well I still don't want to see. Etho, realizing: Please don't throw- Joel: Whee! throws a stick of butter

Joel: chokes on something Jimmy: Jeez, Joel, don't die on us. Joel: Don't tell me what to do, I'll die whenever the hell I want!

Grian: The waiter at Olive Garden has been grating my cheese for 6 hours now, waiting for me to say when. Customers are screaming. Three people have died. Grian: I will not yield.

Pearl: We’re about to do the taser challenge. You want in? Tango: What's the taser challenge? BigB: We tase eachother, then drink. Tango: How do you win? Pearl: What are you, a lawyer? You want in or not?

Tango: Is this mistletoe? Etho: Uh, no, no, that is basil. Tango: Too bad cause if it was mistletoe I was gonna kiss you. Etho: Yeah, no, it’s still basil.

Tango: What do you call a dictionary on drugs? BigB: If you say "addict-ionary" I swear I will cut you. Tango: I was actually going to say "high definition", but your answer's much better. BigB: …

Bdubs and Cleo are planning to break in somewhere Bdubs: We need to distract the guards. Cleo: Right. Bdubs: What are we gonna do? Cleo: I'm gonna break their elbows while you poke their eyes. Bdubs: Cleo: Bdubs: Deal.

BigB: Scar has no survival skills, their need to win has replaced them. Etho: That can't be true! BigB: Watch this. BigB: Hey Scar, race you to the bottom of the stairs! Scar: Throws themself out a window

Pearl: Jimmy is off at an appointment, so while they’re gone, I’m going to cut the sleeves off all of my shirts. BigB: Why? Pearl: They’re like 90 of my impulse control.

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nzia-writes · 2 years

Text

•{ Our Ends Meet}•

RATED SLUTTY! 18+

Sums: The chieftain of a wakandan village receives a visitor who bears unsettling news. Takes place a day before the Infinity War

Interact please and thank you.

(Pls excuse the spaces below. I’m not sure why it automatically formats that way!)

Okoye

(I am obsessed)

Children are the temples of our Mother Earth. A logic that isn’t vastly accepted, but it is a logic you nurture and follow as tradition. Like Baba Abdu said the moment a child would exit the womb: “The youth are of rich blood, praise them as such.”

“Keep your body straight. Eyes on the middle of the target.” You straighten little Eshile’s posture and readjust the bow and arrow tangled between his small fingers. His comrades shoot their arrows with not much struggle to his right and his left. He is discouraged, nervous even, for his lack of coordination.

“Whatever time is best.” You provide him the space to meditate on his decisions. His arrow trembles and beads of sweat roll down his head as the sweltering summer heat and the pressures of the target weigh in on him. Your eyes are taken off of him but for a second before you see two arrows tear through the target. Bullseye.

Everyone is shocked. You are spilling with merit. “Oh! Son, that was great!”

Eshile gulps largely. “That was not me.”

Everyone turns around. There standing on the back porch with a bow in her possession is General Okoye. She remains positioned, aiming high. What an arrogant entrance. This is not the time nor the place. She knows of the rules and yet she still smiles as the children take their respective bows. Little Eshile is frozen in his spot. Your eyes lower to his pants leg. It is gradually growing darker in color, dampening. He is pissing. Okoye’s face has fallen and she stares in concern. You were sure her intentions were pure but the damage has already been made.

“Session is over, kids. Go rest at the play stations. Cooking class is next, hm?”

“Yes, Nana!” They scamper off.

“Son,” you crouch eye level with Eshile. He is not all there but enough of him is there to be reeled back in. Cradling his face gently, you speak to him with the gentle, kind tone he so deserves in the moment. He is back in seconds, still shooken, but he is back. “Now go to Yumaja. She will help you with your clothing, yes?”

“Y-Yes,” he stutters.

“I love you. Now run along.” He doesn’t pay much mind to the smooch delivered to his cheek.

He catches another look at the concerned warrior lingering on the porch before darting off. You then adjust your spectacles, summoning a holographic screen to swipe across. You hit the disable button and the targets begin to diminish before your eyes.

“Nana,” You mock. “Soon I will wear snow-white hair and trot with swollen feet.” You send over your shoulder as you click on a programmed button to fabricate your activity for the next day. Always act ahead of time.

Okoye speaks from where she stands. “Why is there so much haste to age? Last week you were fifty, today you are sixty. Is old age a kink of yours?”

“Ah, cut it out. No kink shaming,” you joke. “Time moves much too fast. It’s only right that I question where it goes.“

“I assume, your beauty. You look younger every time I see your face in those headlines.” She leans against the back door, looking as commanding, and soft as ever.

None of that. Her flattery will not make you move. You will make her move. You pick up a bow and adjust the leather quiver draped over your shoulder. By the time you step onto the first step of the porch, three arrows are sent flying at Okoye. They land near her fingers. Her eyes widen. “Whaat?! You take joy in attempted murder now?”

Your fingers grip her jaw, moving her toward you. “Don’t ever scare my children again. You owe little Eshile an apology.” You cast a simmering glare before passing into your home with her in tow. She was not meaning to instill fear, she was trying to give the children some motivation, for they were struggling with their aim. “It was already in my mind to apologize the moment I saw his face, my love. I am sorry to you as well.”

“I’m sure you are. Leave your spear outside.”

“Do you seriously think I would be bold enough to bring a spear in your holy home? You would wave sage in my face and chant your tongues.”

“You are still going to be cleansed. You have provoked fear around here. I’m sure the demons are not too far away. Maybe you are one of them. My bald headed demon,” you joke.

“Haha, hilarious,” she waves you off.

As you share light conversation with her down your home’s luxurious halls, explaining new historic additions, you stumble upon the living room. The news cast catches your ear. “The King has not announced when the evacuation will be initiated, but this will be of no ease for Wakanda. Danger is on the horizon brothers and sisters— You power the tv off. The news channel invites envious spirits into the home. There will be none of that.

“Hmm,” you hum. Okoye stands slightly tense. You assume she knows something about this evacuation fiasco. Maybe that is why she chose to show her presence without warning. You are about to find out. Before she can open her mouth, you tell her to keep her explanations to herself, to follow you to the kitchen. She sighs but does as so.

The kitchen smells of citrus and curry spices. A beam of light welcomes itself inside and spreads throughout. “Get over here.” You help Okoye to a seat at the table. You then pour her a cup of warm golden milk. It has been her favorite since the honeymoon days. It surprised you quite a bit. You assumed she would be the flashy wine type but she has never forgotten where she comes from.

“Now, what I saw yesterday, I didn’t expect it to come this soon,” you say.

Okoye perks up. “What did you see?”

“I had a premonition.” You join her at the oak table.

Your intuition is one that has been passed down your lineage, gifted with the eye of the wise. Okoye is always enamored by the accuracy of your predictions. Especially those of her triumphs as one of the Dora.

As she awaits your commentary, she interlocks her fingers with yours.

Soon enough, you speak. “During my meditation at the Temple, I saw it. Fire. War. Death. Anguish. All of it befalling The Golden City”

“My love, that had to take a toll on you? You have taken your bath?”

Premonitions depletes one of their energy. Legend says that the mind alternates between the spiritual realm and the time realm, communicating with spirits of many motives. The ancestors have dipped themselves in the mother lake to cleanse themselves, and you have remained committed to tradition.

“Nevermind that. Is this what you came to tell me?”

“Affirmative.”

“I am not alright then.”

Okoye exhales. “I came to see my lover first. The news comes second.”

“Okoye, what is going on?”

She pauses momentarily. “There is a war. The Avengers say it is assumed to be one of mass destruction. One that can only be fought on resistant land.”

Of course it is another war. War has left Wakanda sick. Hardship after hardship. All rooted in the name of fear.

Your chair creaks as you lean back. “Another land for them to destroy? What is of the Black Panther these days? Fighting amongst the Americans. There is always war with them. Bast help us, we cannot withstand another.”

“We are stronger than you think, my love.”

“Wakanda is precious as much as it is strong. It is no nation to be spared. Our culture. Our fruitful history. Does it not hold meaning to you?!”

Okoye sips gracefully. A moment of silence gathers as she allows you to calm yourself. She keeps her voice low as she speaks once more. “This threat is far too great for pride. I am talking about mass extinction. Half the universe gone with a snap of fingers. My love, If this man, this thanos, retrieves what he so seeks, I may never see you again. You may never see me again. Eshile too.”

Your grip on her hand tightens. A life without those that you love? That is a life stripped from meaning. That is suffering. “I see.” You take deep anxious breaths. “I apologize I was just—“

“Concerned, I know.” Okoye is by your side now. “And that is okay. We will be okay.” Her embrace is warm. It catapults you to a state of mind that has less fear and more love. Your muscles ease with it, eyes sliding shut.

“You are shaking like Bambi,” she snickers, kissing your cheek.

You smack her arms. “Well my heart has dropped out of my ass! What do you expect when you tell me I may cease to exist in hours’ time!”

“Mmm. I expect you to stand on your two feet—to raise your chin up high and come with me so we can cherish the time that may count as our last. This is not our first rodeo.”

“That was different. If it is not seeing the ones I love again…well…I am not a warrior.

“A warrior is great for not only their skill in combat, but for their desire to keep fighting. You have so much fight in you. Do not think otherwise.”

“Sweet words that I will not believe. I ran from a wasp the other day and did more damage to my hair than those aunties at the ceremonial reunions.”

Okoye laughs aloud.

“Why do you not mourn the possibility of Wakanda’s end, my love?” You run a thumb across her cheek.

“When you risk your life day after day, the end is all you think about.”

“That is suffering.”

“Not when you have made peace with it.”

You let that marinate. It is disheartening as much as it is honorable. “How long before evacuation?”

“We start by morning. Not much time.”

“We have worked with less. Pack your things. We will head to our ritual sight after I give the children my farewells. They have been retiring early as of late.” You stand from the chair and Okoye stands with you.

“We can bake these nasty curry patties of yours and bring them along as well.”

You point an accusing finger at her. “You only call them nasty because you secretly love them.”

“I do,” she snags a piece from the pile of previously made patties. A squeal fills the room as the flavor hits her from all angles. So giddy for food that is ‘nasty.’ “This one needs a little lemon.” She hoards the cupboards in search of your kettle of sun-dried lemons.

You scoff. “Whatever. I will be back.” Once outside in the beaming heat of Birnin Azzaria, you slide between busy bodies as they tote vases and market food, sandals kicking up red dust. The odds are forever stacked against you.

~¥~

The temple of Azzaria stands atop a forested mountain, foreseeing the Burnin Azzaria. The sky has eased over and glows a rebellious orange. So soft and delicate on the skin. So pungent you can taste the earthy aromas on your tongue. Colored dots paint your face and Okoye’s. Beadwork is splayed across your chests. And your locs are freed from your turban.

During this time of the day, the sun meets the waters and the gods bestow enchantment, thus bringing a rise to sexual prowess. And well…you and Okoye have chosen to harvest it.

“That’s it, sthandwa. Let it slide down your throat,” Okoye husks.

Your bodies are bare to the brisk winds and the call of Mother Earth. Ritual candles encircle your united bodies, smoke slithering from the wicks, bringing forth The Wakening; in which the soul has been freed. Yours has soared, clutching and melding with Okoye’s as you share your body. You feel a pull in the chest. Toe curling pleasure. Precious moans.

Okoye has her feet planted on either side of your face, heatedly swirling her hips, riding until she should see her ending. You provide a balance of dominance by gripping her ass to guide her up and down your long pink tongue while allowing her freedom to grind on her own. Your groans travel to her toes as you work overtime to consume and consume, to allow your bodies this energetic exchange.

“Yes,” she pants. “Yes, yes, yesss.” Her toned stomach flexes as she sputters and grinds faster. Her vulva blooms like tulips in the peak of spring. Glistens like sticky nectar were smeared on it, sweetening and hydrating your slackened jaws to the likes of heaven. You spit and suck on her pretty folds, savoring all of her. Goodness. Stars are what she sees behind her eyelids and euphoria is what she feels recoiling in her abdomen.

“Oh my….you are being so good for me, so good.”

An orgasmic pressure orbs down south. You both know it’s coming, so it is only fair to usher it in faster. You flick and suck her clit rapidly, pussy juice sprinkling upon its home. She gasps aloud, “Too much. Fuck.” Then she pauses and slightly raises from your mouth.

“You are running now? What did I tell you about that, hm?” You send a mean smack to her ass.

“Wait. Just wait.” Her fingers inch down to spread plump lips, cocoa-brown folds glistening beneath the kiss of the sun. “Mmmh,” she sucks in her bottom lip as she slides her fingers inside, pumping slowly, juices rolling down her thighs in beads. She does it for your pleasure and her own. This may be the last time your divine connection will be explored. It is best to make it last.

“Let me taste, my love. I need you.”

“You will have me,” she whispers. She then slides her creamy coated fingers against your elongated tongue. You suck her off nastily, tasting the sweet musky flavor of her depths. She has always tasted the best, and has always given it the best. You will never leave. Ever.

You chase her fingers as she retracts and she cannot help but chuckle. “You are something else.”

But she loves it beyond saying.

She slides them in her own mouth next, moaning as it melts on her tongue. Then she’s back to putting that pussy all in your mouth. This time she leans back at an angle for an easier ride. It pays off beautifully. You devour her whole until her thighs vibrate into silk. She holds your head still and grinds desperately, walls pulsing to the beat of hollow drums. “Uhhnn. I’m…I’m…mmmh.”

She finishes off, letting her rivers gush in your mouth. Unable to contain the overwhelming shocks, she crawls off the length of your face and melts into empty space next to you. Her sheen chest heaves and her hand becomes trapped between her clenched thighs. Face crinkled in euphoria. Spine arched. Singing cries of fulfillment. You aren’t sure she’s met herself until she relaxes her legs and opens her eyes.

“Who told you to do that to me?”

“You ask? I will deliver.” You lean in, kissing her slow and deep. She flicks your tongue with her own and you both fall victim to a game of rolling your tongues around. Saliva and ripe juices are swapped, moans and giggles becoming the only sound left of the sexual escapades. Final pecks are given as she pulls away. Her angelic gaze penetrates yours.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you and everything there is to know about you. I still have much to discover in this complex mind of yours. So much.”

“You will.”

A moment of stillness grasps your heartstrings. There is the possibility of everything ending. But there is also the possibility of everything continuing. Be that as it may, the universe and the world will march on in this timeline. There is still so much to experience with what remains.

You and Okoye agree on tending to the platters of food on the gigantic plush. You first blow out the ritual candles and cover yourselves in thin woolen blankets. You end up seated across her lap, feasting your eyes on the brilliant city lights as they sprawl across the skyline. The Maglev levitation train and the hover cars glide in the dim sky soundlessly. The moon has now risen on its feet. The spirits with it.

“Your coconut rice and prime rib reminds me of Nomble,” she chews the meal before her.

“I have the touch of the garden god then, yes?”

“I guess,” she gives her infamous side-eye. “I believe you would be a great addition to the Training Facility’s chef crew. On our days of battle, we have these humongous feasts. It is happening right now as we speak.”

You swallow the savory meal that is your vegetable medley and seasoned soy. “Well there is no need for the feast when you have it right here.”

“With the woman I love,” she pecks your lips, sweet as can be.

“Here. I want you to keep this.” You remove your beaded adornment from your neck and carefully attach it to Okoye’s. A piece of you is what she will carry with her in battle to remind her that she serves, not in vain, but in purpose and honor.

Doing it all for love.

“Fight well tomorrow, do you hear me? Help save this universe.”

Okoye chuckles. Your love is one she will always remember, no matter what fate she will meet by morning. “Is there anyone in Wakanda of any match to me combat-wise? If not the Black Panther?”

“Me.”

“Craziest thing I’ve heard since Aneka last told me she manhandled Ayo.”

“What?!”

“I’m telling you, the girl has some nerve.”

“Mmmh. Well I know you have yet to manhandle me.”

That was a bold lie. A bold bold bold lie. But lies are fun to tell. And if this is the last lie you tell, might as well go out with a banger.

“Is that a challenge, my love?”

“Whatever you are going to give, I want it.” You shrug off her lap to rest your plate on the side.

Okoye will not let that challenge fly. She sets her dish to the side and brings you in by the throat. You both fall back in giggles. Maybe fall into another round of love-making? Maybe sit beneath the belts of stars to chat and share your life’s aspirations one hundred times over? Whichever may fit the moment, there will be a well-known shared love. What comes with this shared love is the feeling, the utter appreciation, that death is not the end.

End note: I like to write sex. That is the sentence of the day. 😁

#general okoye #okoye x reader #okoye one shot #black panther okoye #okoye x attuma #okoye #nakia x okoye #ayo and aneka #aneka #ayo x reader x aneka #shuri udaku #riri x reader #riri williams x black!fem!reader #shuri x black!reader

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justatalkingface · 1 year

Text

The 'Great' MHA Read Along, Part Four (Chapters 12-21): Team Deathmatch!

So, first thing, we have a bunch of reporters creeping on kids for news. I... am not a fan of this. Like, I get that, in story, heroes are celebrities, and so UA is effectively a school about becoming famous, but I've never been a fan of this kind of paparazzi, or that kind of fame in general.

More relevantly, since this is a school to, among other things, turn these kids into celebrities...why do we never see them prepare the students for that fact? There's a bare nod to rescuing people later on (hardly enough for how important that is, and even that is in the License Exam, and it's implied 1A was never taught about that at all... for reasons, presumably the same reason Aizawa never mentioned that literally everyone is going to try and murder them in the exam... and outside of right now, where it doesn't happen, I don't think we ever see them train in that) and from there how to interact with victims, but for such a media dominated field, you'd think there'd be classes on, you know, how to talk to a reporter. And, sure, maybe there's some on later, but they've already been getting field work by that point, for years, well publicized field work, so it feels just a tad too late at that point.

Anyways, obvious focus on the UA Barrier for later, then straight to evaluations, where Aizawa tells Bakugou to stop acting like a seven year old'

...

Because, you know, that's how all seven year olds behave, I guess.

All those seven year old children, trying to murder anyone they don't like, stabbing people with knives, smashing each in the head with crowbars, you know, normal stuff. Kids being kids, amiright?

Then we turn to Izuku, and while, yes, Izuku not breaking his arm would be good.... do you, perchance, have a suggestion to help with that goal, Aizawa? You know, as his teacher? Who is supposed to teach him things?

Ah, yes, there it is: I want to see some sweat out of you. 'Work hard, Izuku, because clearly, the catastrophic, crippling injuries you've been dealing to yourself, which must be agonizing, aren't enough incentive for you to improve; clearly you're just being lazy here, and there's no other potential factors holding you back from improving beyond this disappointing performance.'

Sweet flying fuck, how in the hell did this guy train Shinsou? 'Here's the scarf, figure it out, I want to see results by tomorrow?'

And then they just move on, so... I guess only Bakugou and Midoriya get called out in class. Cool, cool.

Hmm. Alright, so we next we get some actual school shenanigans, and I... have mixed feelings about this.

On one hand, this is exactly the character developing, 'let it breath' stuff we've been wanting in MHA current for... years now, basiclly. Paying attention to characters when they're not actively fighting and what not is something essential for making them seem less like characters and more like people, which... you kinda want for a good story.

On the other hand, I just find this boring. I wasn't interested in who gets to be student president last time, and I'm not really now, either.

(As a side note, it's hyped up as being SPECIAL and HEROIC and IMPORTANT FOR DEVELOPING A HEROIC FOUNDATION, or whatever, which is why we're supposed to care about it, but all of that never happens, so... that's a lie. Also, kinda dumb? This isn't a military organization, there's no real reason to train heroes to command other heroes.)

Here's the thing: the content, itself, isn't the problem; a great story writer can make even the most boring shit seem interesting. I vividly remember a manga about farming, for example. Just farming, before anyone starts thinking of whatever farm Isekei may come to mind. On the face of it, that may sound boring, but it was engrossing all the same, because of how well it was written, how involved the characters were in process. There's shonen stories that manage to make the 'school' part of the story just as interesting as the, 'And now you and me fight' parts, but MHA... just isn't it. If I had to guess, it's probably how dismissive the story is about those parts; before we even get to that, after all, we already have Aizawa making it clear how useless and superflicious normal schooling is, and he continues that stance well into the story.

If one of the main characters of the story, here being Aizawa (AKA the teacher who is heavily emphasized in story about how 'wise' he is), is dismissive about something, and there's nothing in story to really counter that perception, then yeah, the story probably isn't going to be covering that topic in an interesting way.

TLDR: I don't think Hori doesn't give a shit about the 'Academia' part of My Hero Academia, and it shows.

Anyways, there's some pointless school drama, and the only things I'm getting out of it outside of some foundational character stuff is that: the kids are all idiots, with how they were mobbing when the alarm went off (and the teachers are alarmingly absent when said alarm went off; shouldn't a security alert be when you secure the children?), Iida is too pure for this world, and god that whiplash is going to hit hard, and finally that U.A. is way too OK with the fact that someone broke in.

(Well, that and, for all that I'm very much not a fan of pushy reporters invading things they have no right to... Present Mic literally says that this is going from illegal trespassing into villainy. How?????

Seriously, how?! The only thing they're doing, beyond the trespassing, is... ignoring them and being assholish about questions?

Why in the actual fuck is he asking permission to blow them away!? Mic???? I thought you were the good teacher! )

Anyways, Izuku dodges dealing with shyness, Iida gets promoted over Momo to be president, and Nezu gets to sound ridiculous talking about an 'element of evil'. Yeah.

Next chapter: We see All Might using his time in a far more productive way, and a nod to the fact that heroes jobs are literally built around crime happening.

That's exactly how I responded when I first heard Izuku told Bakugou about OFA, All Might! (Although, Izuku explicitly says he didn't tell his mom, so... what did he say? There's a serious conversation here that we're just not getting.)

*Snort*

'Dark forces would flow forth in legions'. I mean, he's not wrong, but All Might only barely pulls that off because he's, like I said, hammier than ham in general, but the fact all the heroes randomly have asides like that, no matter how serious they are, was always jarring about this early on stuff.

...'Trial' of Rescue? It makes it sound like your testing them on stuff they should have no way of possibly knowing; if things went differently, would you have threatened to expel the last place student here as well, Aizawa? NGL, though, feels weird that costumes are optional for this because 'they might not be adapted'. I mean... for all the shit you dump on them to force them to adapt, you'd think doing things in your costume, that you are potentially going to be wearing all the time, would be an obvious choice. Wouldn't it be better to figure out if your costume needs work now rather than later?

And why are costumes in the classroom...? I mean, they'll need to leave to change anyways, it'd make a lot more sense to just have a changing area where the costumes are stored at.

Bus time.

You know, one of the things that strikes me, here, is how everyone is acting; there is no fear, loathing or shunning of Bakugou for happened last arc, not only for the murder attempt they never properly reacted to, but to the savage beating they were begging All Might to stop the fight over... but, they're not admiring him, either. There's friendly teasing at his expense, even.

And it's like... the fight never happened, in their minds (or Bakugou attacking Izuku on Day One, for that matter). They're acting like they know Bakugou only as a competent, if abrasive, student, and are treating him accordingly. It's kinda fascinating, really, because later they'll forget all of Bakugou's sins, of course, but that's only part of it: they'll fawn over him, because they only get to see this idealized version of Bakugou. Here? They just aren't responding to the worse parts, but they're still generally treating Bakugou like you'd expect someone like Bakugou would be treated. From my perspective of the very ends of the manga, it's really interesting to see this, like an AU where Bakugou both as a person and a character was treated more seriously in the story.

Gotta love that Kaminari Truth Bomb, lol.

Also, for how short this is: the characters are all interacting with each, it's light-hearted and non-serious, the ingredients are the same as they were before, but this is a lot more interesting to read for me than the Class President stuff was. More evidence My Hero Not Academia, I guess.

And now we've arrived at the USJ proper and, again, waaaay too big; the fucking budget this one school has has to be bigger than the budget of some small countries. And... 13 created this? By herself? Yet again, UA teachers have way too much freedom in school, for no apparent reason, because the way this is phrased makes it sound like this entire, giant ass facility, is 13's facility.

All Might: saves people, rather than try (and fail) to teach.

Eraserhead: hOw IRRatiONal.

I get he was supposed to be here, and he is failing as a teacher, but acting like he's being an utter moron by doing his other actual job is a bit much; here starts the point where All Might never gets a win... ever again, really. It's not All Might if someone's not metaphorically kicking him, after all.

You know, for how much of a non-character 13 ends up being, this five seconds of her is really refreshing: this conversation she's having, about how, you know, 'Quirks are dangerous, let's all try not to hurt someone with them' is exactly the conversation you'd think would have started the school year off with; she feels like a lot more realistic teacher than anyone we've seen thus far.

I guess that why Kurogiri's coming to shut her up then, right? We can't have a teacher actually teaching in UA!

....You know, it's easy to forget how weird Tomura was drawn early on. His image is far more... stark than we get later on, more focus on his wrinkles and the shadows on his face; it gives me some Uncanny Valley vibes. Actually, I can really see all the weird-ass horror hand stuff Hori eventually ends up doing in this, because he just looks wrong in some fundamental way, like he doesn't fit in the setting properly.

I've said this before, but I never liked early Tomura, because of how dumb he felt, but if Hori had leaned into this version more, him being off instead of him being childish, it would have made him feel a lot more threatening. But... after this one of his main pieces of characterization is going to be throwing fits, so...

...

Actually, I'm hitting pause here.

So. I, among others, talk about how bad a teacher Aizawa is, but I don't think I've spelled out how dangerous that could be, beyond ruining the students education, if a man in his position was viewed as fundamentally untrustworthy by the students he's in charge of. What we have here is a perfect time to discuss that!

Let's picture the scene, everybody: a dark portal opens, and bunch of weird people rush in. Aizawa goes into Serious Mode, puts on his goggles, and leaps into action, loudly declaring that, 'THOSE ARE VILLIANS!'

Now we turn to students: they look at Aizawa, see how serious he's acting.... and then remember how serious he looked yesterday, right before he told them that the big thing they were worried about was a 'logical ruse'.

Their panic calms slightly, and they think about the situation again from a new light.

What's more likely? That a giant horde of villains have broken into UA facility, famed for how safe it is, staffed by actual heroes? Into a building that is presumably secured and closed off to the public at all times? That they knew to break in now, of all times, just when the class went on a field trip? To a training facility?

Or, that Aizawa is giving them a 'logical ruse' again, with 13 in on it this time, and all these 'villains' are actors to help them learn better? (Just to be clear, here, that's basiclly what happens in the actual License Exam later on: Gang Orca, who is canonly one of the scariest heroes around, 'breaks into' the rescue focused exam with an army of mooks and starts throwing down like he's an actual villain. The only thing that separates this theoretical situation from that actual exam is that it was clear in the exam that the 'villains' were part of the exam.) And that, once they get this little skit out of the way, they'll reveal the joke, mock you if you fall for it, again (that is if Aizawa doesn't threaten to expel you for failing his standards... again), and then everyone will get on with the training.

So, the thing is, in dangerous situations, you need to make the right choice right away; if Iida was more on the ball, for example, maybe he could have escaped the USJ before Kurogiri made his way over to them, and gotten help for everyone that much sooner.

Hesitation, in other words, leads to disaster.

Do you know what's worse than hesitation in a dangerous situation?

Thinking your teacher is punking you like you're on some hidden camera show, and acting accordingly.

Imagine what could have happened when the students were all randomly separated and dropped before packs of villains, if they thought the villains were acting? What could have happened if a bunch of kids, kids with no combat training (beyond Shoto, who had training, and Bakugou, whose trigger happy instincts would have come in handy for once instead of being a dangerous liability), were placed in front of a bunch of people out to murder them, while they treated the situation like a game?

Hell, what if the kids rushed in to fight the villains before that happened, while Eraserhead was bogged down by charging head first into the army of mooks? (Also, couldn't he have... not done that? Some kind of collaborative attack with 13, where she attacks them while Eraserhead nerfs them, maybe? For all that Eraserhead is apparently specialized in a group fight, the guy with no offensive Quirk against a small army seems... a flawed choice.) They're trying to be heroes, after all: brave, probably eager to fight and flex their Quirks some more after a lifetime of keeping them suppressed, of not being allowed to use this intrinsic part of themselves all out. Besides, fighting the 'villains' sounds like a great way to get a good grade, right?

It gets even worse when the villains explain their goals: to kill All Might.

All Might is, let me remind you, the guy who punched a bunch of slime so hard that it started to rain. While he was weakened, no less.

All Might, while he's branded as the Symbol of Peace, is more honestly the Symbol of Victory, more than Bakugou ever will be: he effortlessly crushes every obstacle before him, doing it all with a smile and a quip, throughout his entire career. The peace he is so famous for is built on the idea that he never loses, and that this is a universally acknowledged fact.

He is so strong, so overwhelmingly competent, that he has made Japan, as a nation, simultaneously safer and more willing to sit on their hands and do nothing. He is so unstoppably successful at his job that Endeavour, who is second only to All Might himself (by... whatever metric that's judged off of), gets a villainous backstory trying to keep up with him.

In MHA, before the main story happens, a bunch of randos saying that they're going to kill All Might is like me saying I'm going to beat up Mount Everest.

It's ludicrous, in other words. Anyone saying it is either actively insane... or clearly lying through their teeth.

If Shigaraki's Uncanny Valley factor was just a little weaker, just a little less alarming, if they decided Aizawa was just lying to them again, and that this was just another example of UA's extreme training philosophy, they could have been slaughtered because this man couldn't be bothered to put the effort into his actual job, which he is getting paid for, and focus on his students in any real way.

This is the problem with Aizawa, the Teacher. As a hero, sure, he's great, and him jumping right away to defending the kids is good and all, but as a teacher? He is so fucking lazy that his students could have been, and in all honesty should have been, killed because they have no reason to trust his directions, especially in a serious, unusual situation.

If you can't trust the person in charge of you to make wise decisions in times of danger, or this case communicate those decisions to you and be trusted, then they are a liability, and for a man in Aizawa's situation, with his job, his responsibility to these kids? That is unacceptable.

...

Anyways. Villains show up, Eraserhead wades in (and then Hori makes sure to have Izuku and Shigaraki talk him up! You're so cool, Eraserhead! Make sure the readers know just how awesome you are as you effortlessly plow through the mooks! And I love how he punches a guy twice his size, who is made out of rock, and sends this guy flying, somehow, and doesn't break his hand in the process), then Kurogiri rolls up, monologues like an edgelord, and yeets all the kids, but not before the Bakugou and Kirishima dynamic is founded by.... failing utterly.

*sigh*

Seriously, Mineta? You're half drowned and in serious risk of getting murdered, and now you perv? This is why he's so hated, BTW: not because he's a pervert, but because that's almost his entire characterization. Jiraiya is a creepy, spying pervert as well, sure, but he's beloved by the Naruto fandom because he does all this other stuff that isn't being a creep, that makes him seem like an interesting person. He has relationships, and develops more, that don't revolve around breasts, which gives us a good, humanizing take on him beyond that character flaw.

Mineta's second character trait after being a pervert is being a coward, and... I don't think he really has friends? It's not a good look, to say the least. And yes, I know he gets a 'brave moment' here, where he surpasses his cowardice.... that is to say, where he literally throws things from a distance, but that happens for... all of two panels, and isn't that impressive even when it does happen. Then afterwards it's right back to normal. The notes say Hori had a hard time balancing his character against Hori's natural perviness, and honestly I'm just surprised this is the balanced version?

Anyways, everyone has to fight, and we see Izuku have to deal with the situation. He forces his way past his fear, his hesitation, to the realization he has to act, and then commits to it.

He observes the situation, comes to several realizations from what he sees, from how the villains act and the environment they're in. Then he comes up with an unorthodox plan, built around using his classmates various abilities effectively, and then executes it, claiming an overwhelming victory despite the odds against him.

This, all of this? All of this is far more interesting to read than his fights have been lately. This Izuku is easier to root for, easier to be concerned about, easier to like, than when we know he's going to beat everyone else up because he's OP. He's relatable like this, and that is a magic word for keeping people involved in your story.

Then everyone else fights, and most of it isn't that interesting. One notable one is the Momo, Kaminari and Jirou fight where: they also come up with a creative plan to win, Momo gets to use her powers usefully.... and then Kiminari is literally nerfed into being an idiotic pervert (like the one we already have isn't enough?), while Momo's shirt is torn off. Because of course. Then Kiminari is beat up for the suffering the mental version of Izuku's bone breaking side effect, because he can't win anything; god, it must suck to be him.

...Do you know how surreal it feels to watch Tomura be competent? Seriously, he's in a hand to hand brawl with Eraserhead, doing well despite the fact this should be something he doesn't actually do that often, considering his Quirk, he's calculating Aizawa's weak points... this guy feels like a threat, and I don't usually have that impression of him until the Villain Arc. I... I'm genuinely wondering if he always was this threatening, far more than I remember, and that some bad takes on him became the most memorable trait of him that became his fanon characterization, or he gets nerfed after his introduction like All Might was.

Ah, the Classic Noumu. The very one that screwed up my view on every other version; god, this one is a monster. He's an impossible behemoth of a thing, easily beating every enemy he comes against, crushing Eraserhead as a brutal introduction. Great first impression, but he makes all the other versions until the High Ends show up seem bizarrely weak for all the fuss they get.

And then All Might comes in.

And he isn't smiling.

Remember in an earlier post how I mentioned that All Might acts hammy to appear non-threatening? Well, I feel validated. (You know, until he promptly loses.)

...That is Actually Bowser. There's actually a Bowser-lite character, canonly, in MHA. Huh.

Anyways, it's faced up against Serious Might that makes Noumu seem that big of a threat, the fact that Tomura takes his arrival so well makes him that much more disturbing; I keep saying this, but this arc was a damn good intro for him.

Oh, hey! Remember when the strongest warper in setting was a threat in combat? This arc does; an ability like that could be lethal if used right, and it's nice seeing that in action, when later Kurogiri is devolved in a largely passive porter for The Team.

And then Izuku charges in! And then Bakugou... 'helps', ugh. I've gotten spoiled by all the chapters where he was 'dead'; I forgot how much he used to be shoved into every possible situation, in the best possible way to make his otherwise alarming behavior look good.

Like. He's not doing the right thing here, like everyone else is (even Shoto, who feels disconnected from the situation). He's doing what he wants, and it's just happening to help everyone else, yet it's getting shown as the 'right' thing. It's just frustrating for him to get these 'hero' shots of him looking and acting unhinged, but knowing I'm supposed to find that heroic.

And here, Tomura is pointing out what I pointed out earlier: All Might's 'peace' is based on the threat of superior violence, which... is quickly ignored because he's a murder hobo. Mixed feelings about that; as a character, for where he is in the story, for who he's supposed to be, he's exactly the kind of person to act off that logic, but he does have a good point, and I don't think anyone else brings it up, really? All Might being dissed for being All Might later is based off him no longer being a hero, and society is falling apart and all that, never that the peace itself is based off the threat of him.

...That said, why the hell doesn't All Might just... grab the Noumu again? If Kurogiri isn't hard countering that kind of thing, there's nothing really stopping All Might from grabbing the Noumu's wrist and just yeeting the guy. It's a big, dramatic moment, I get it, overcoming the shock absorption with power and sheer determination, but it's also dumb.

Also, hope that Noumu doesn't land in anybody's house or anything, lol.

Eight or nine last minute saves later, and it's all over save for the All For One introduction; ah, the nostalgia of 'Sensei', plotting from the shadows. I missed him being threatening.

Minor thing, but I like that brief moment of humanizing on the previously aloof Shoto when he realized Hagakure was there when he was fighting, it's a nice touch showing that he's more than his facade without slapping us in the face with it, a good setup for later.

Oh, and here's some extra Aizawa hypocrisy for you: he goes on and on about how bad Izuku is at taking care of himself, but we got a butcher's bill about all the damage inflicted on him. Next day? He shows up mummified. Great example, there; and it's set up just to show how.... badass he is, I guess? But it's annoying that they went through all that work setting up how badly he's damaged just to gloss over it, and yet Izuku's injuries are about to be taken seriously.

Awkward end of chapter cliffhanger!

#mha critical #bnha critical #aizawa critical #bakugou critical #The 'Great' MHA Read Along #holy shit shigaraki was threatening?#i have no idea what i'm doing #what the fuck did i just bring upon this cursed land

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rjalker · 5 months

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Which fairy tale do you think is the most fucked up?

I forget what it's called, but the one where the kid gets murdered by his (step?)mom and then she tricks her little kid daughter into thinking she killed him. Then he comes back to life as a bird and gives his sister some new shoes and I forget what he got for his dad and I'm pretty sure he dropped a millstone on his mom lol.

Edit:

I was adding in the paragraph breaks but I'm too lazy to do that on my phone so sorry

Okay I just remembered I can put read more as on my phone

The Juniper Tree

Some two thousand years or so, there lived a rich man with a good and beautiful wife. They loved each other dearly, but sorrowed much that they had no children. So greatly did they desire to have one, that the wife prayed for it day and night, but still they remained childless.

In front of the house there was a court, in which grew a juniper-tree. One winter’s day the wife stood under the tree to peel some apples, and as she was peeling them, she cut her finger, and the blood fell on the snow. ‘Ah,’ sighed the woman heavily, ‘if I had but a child, as red as blood and as white as snow,’ and as she spoke the words, her heart grew light within her, and it seemed to her that her wish was granted, and she returned to the house feeling glad and comforted. A month passed, and the snow had all disappeared; then another month went by, and all the earth was green. So the months followed one another, and first the trees budded in the woods, and soon the green branches grew thickly intertwined, and then the blossoms began to fall. Once again the wife stood under the juniper-tree, and it was so full of sweet scent that her heart leaped for joy, and she was so overcome with her happiness, that she fell on her knees. Presently the fruit became round and firm, and she was glad and at peace; but when they were fully ripe she picked the berries and ate eagerly of them, and then she grew sad and ill. A little while later she called her husband, and said to him, weeping. ‘If I die, bury me under the juniper-tree.’ Then she felt comforted and happy again, and before another month had passed she had a little child, and when she saw that it was as white as snow and as red as blood, her joy was so great that she died.

Her husband buried her under the juniper-tree, and wept bitterly for her. By degrees, however, his sorrow grew less, and although at times he still grieved over his loss, he was able to go about as usual, and later on he married again.

He now had a little daughter born to him; the child of his first wife was a boy, who was as red as blood and as white as snow. The mother loved her daughter very much, and when she looked at her and then looked at the boy, it pierced her heart to think that he would always stand in the way of her own child, and she was continually thinking how she could get the whole of the property for her. This evil thought took possession of her more and more, and made her behave very unkindly to the boy. She drove him from place to place with cuffings and buffetings, so that the poor child went about in fear, and had no peace from the time he left school to the time he went back.

One day the little daughter came running to her mother in the store-room, and said, ‘Mother, give me an apple.’ ‘Yes, my child,’ said the wife, and she gave her a beautiful apple out of the chest; the chest had a very heavy lid and a large iron lock.

‘Mother,’ said the little daughter again, ‘may not brother have one too?’ The mother was angry at this, but she answered, ‘Yes, when he comes out of school.’

Just then she looked out of the window and saw him coming, and it seemed as if an evil spirit entered into her, for she snatched the apple out of her little daughter’s hand, and said, ‘You shall not have one before your brother.’ She threw the apple into the chest and shut it to. The little boy now came in, and the evil spirit in the wife made her say kindly to him, ‘My son, will you have an apple?’ but she gave him a wicked look. ‘Mother,’ said the boy, ‘how dreadful you look! Yes, give me an apple.’ The thought came to her that she would kill him. ‘Come with me,’ she said, and she lifted up the lid of the chest; ‘take one out for yourself.’ And as he bent over to do so, the evil spirit urged her, and crash! down went the lid, and off went the little boy’s head. Then she was overwhelmed with fear at the thought of what she had done. ‘If only I can prevent anyone knowing that I did it,’ she thought. So she went upstairs to her room, and took a white handkerchief out of her top drawer; then she set the boy’s head again on his shoulders, and bound it with the handkerchief so that nothing could be seen, and placed him on a chair by the door with an apple in his hand.

Soon after this, little Marleen came up to her mother who was stirring a pot of boiling water over the fire, and said, ‘Mother, brother is sitting by the door with an apple in his hand, and he looks so pale; and when I asked him to give me the apple, he did not answer, and that frightened me.’

‘Go to him again,’ said her mother, ‘and if he does not answer, give him a box on the ear.’ So little Marleen went, and said, ‘Brother, give me that apple,’ but he did not say a word; then she gave him a box on the ear, and his head rolled off. She was so terrified at this, that she ran crying and screaming to her mother. ‘Oh!’ she said, ‘I have knocked off brother’s head,’ and then she wept and wept, and nothing would stop her.

‘What have you done!’ said her mother, ‘but no one must know about it, so you must keep silence; what is done can’t be undone; we will make him into puddings.’ And she took the little boy and cut him up, made him into puddings, and put him in the pot. But Marleen stood looking on, and wept and wept, and her tears fell into the pot, so that there was no need of salt.

Presently the father came home and sat down to his dinner; he asked, ‘Where is my son?’ The mother said nothing, but gave him a large dish of black pudding, and Marleen still wept without ceasing.

The father again asked, ‘Where is my son?’

‘Oh,’ answered the wife, ‘he is gone into the country to his mother’s great uncle; he is going to stay there some time.’

‘What has he gone there for, and he never even said goodbye to me!’

‘Well, he likes being there, and he told me he should be away quite six weeks; he is well looked after there.’

‘I feel very unhappy about it,’ said the husband, ‘in case it should not be all right, and he ought to have said goodbye to me.’

With this he went on with his dinner, and said, ‘Little Marleen, why do you weep? Brother will soon be back.’ Then he asked his wife for more pudding, and as he ate, he threw the bones under the table.

Little Marleen went upstairs and took her best silk handkerchief out of her bottom drawer, and in it she wrapped all the bones from under the table and carried them outside, and all the time she did nothing but weep. Then she laid them in the green grass under the juniper-tree, and she had no sooner done so, then all her sadness seemed to leave her, and she wept no more. And now the juniper-tree began to move, and the branches waved backwards and forwards, first away from one another, and then together again, as it might be someone clapping their hands for joy. After this a mist came round the tree, and in the midst of it there was a burning as of fire, and out of the fire there flew a beautiful bird, that rose high into the air, singing magnificently, and when it could no more be seen, the juniper-tree stood there as before, and the silk handkerchief and the bones were gone.

Little Marleen now felt as lighthearted and happy as if her brother were still alive, and she went back to the house and sat down cheerfully to the table and ate.

The bird flew away and alighted on the house of a goldsmith and began to sing:

‘My mother killed her little son; My father grieved when I was gone; My sister loved me best of all; She laid her kerchief over me, And took my bones that they might lie Underneath the juniper-tree Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!’

The goldsmith was in his workshop making a gold chain, when he heard the song of the bird on his roof. He thought it so beautiful that he got up and ran out, and as he crossed the threshold he lost one of his slippers. But he ran on into the middle of the street, with a slipper on one foot and a sock on the other; he still had on his apron, and still held the gold chain and the pincers in his hands, and so he stood gazing up at the bird, while the sun came shining brightly down on the street. ‘Bird,’ he said, ‘how beautifully you sing! Sing me that song again.’ ‘Nay,’ said the bird, ‘I do not sing twice for nothing. Give that gold chain, and I will sing it you again.’ ‘Here is the chain, take it,’ said the goldsmith. ‘Only sing me that again.’ The bird flew down and took the gold chain in his right claw, and then he alighted again in front of the goldsmith and sang:

Then he flew away, and settled on the roof of a shoemaker’s house and sang:

The shoemaker heard him, and he jumped up and ran out in his shirt-sleeves, and stood looking up at the bird on the roof with his hand over his eyes to keep himself from being blinded by the sun. ‘Bird,’ he said, ‘how beautifully you sing!’ Then he called through the door to his wife: ‘Wife, come out; here is a bird, come and look at it and hear how beautifully it sings.’ Then he called his daughter and the children, then the apprentices, girls and boys, and they all ran up the street to look at the bird, and saw how splendid it was with its red and green feathers, and its neck like burnished gold, and eyes like two bright stars in its head. ‘Bird,’ said the shoemaker, ‘sing me that song again.’ ‘Nay,’ answered the bird, ‘I do not sing twice for nothing; you must give me something.’ ‘Wife,’ said the man, ‘go into the garret; on the upper shelf you will see a pair of red shoes; bring them to me.’ The wife went in and fetched the shoes. ‘There, bird,’ said the shoemaker, ‘now sing me that song again.’ The bird flew down and took the red shoes in his left claw, and then he went back to the roof and sang:

When he had finished, he flew away. He had the chain in his right claw and the shoes in his left, and he flew right away to a mill, and the mill went ‘Click clack, click clack, click clack.’ Inside the mill were twenty of the miller’s men hewing a stone, and as they went ‘Hick hack, hick hack, hick hack,’ the mill went ‘Click clack, click clack, click clack.’ The bird settled on a lime-tree in front of the mill and sang:

‘My mother killed her little son;

then one of the men left off,

My father grieved when I was gone;

two more men left off and listened,

My sister loved me best of all;

then four more left off,

She laid her kerchief over me, And took my bones that they might lie

Now there were only eight at work,

Underneath,

and now only five,

the juniper-tree.

and now only one,

Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!’

then he looked up and the last one had left off work. ‘Bird,’ he said, ‘what a beautiful song that is you sing! Let me hear it too; sing it again.’ ‘Nay,’ answered the bird, ‘I do not sing twice for nothing; give me that millstone, and I will sing it again.’ ‘If it belonged to me alone,’ said the man, ‘you should have it.’ ‘Yes, yes,’ said the others: ‘if he will sing again, he can have it.’ The bird came down, and all the twenty millers set to and lifted up the stone with a beam; then the bird put his head through the hole and took the stone round his neck like a collar, and flew back with it to the tree and sang—

And when he had finished his song, he spread his wings, and with the chain in his right claw, the shoes in his left, and the millstone round his neck, he flew right away to his father’s house. The father, the mother, and little Marleen were having their dinner. ‘How lighthearted I feel,’ said the father, ‘so pleased and cheerful.’ ‘And I,’ said the mother, ‘I feel so uneasy, as if a heavy thunderstorm were coming.’ But little Marleen sat and wept and wept. Then the bird came flying towards the house and settled on the roof. ‘I do feel so happy,’ said the father, ‘and how beautifully the sun shines; I feel just as if I were going to see an old friend again.’ ‘Ah!’ said the wife, ‘and I am so full of distress and uneasiness that my teeth chatter, and I feel as if there were a fire in my veins,’ and she tore open her dress; and all the while little Marleen sat in the corner and wept, and the plate on her knees was wet with her tears. The bird now flew to the juniper-tree and began singing:

‘My mother killed her little son;

the mother shut her eyes and her ears, that she might see and hear nothing, but there was a roaring sound in her ears like that of a violent storm, and in her eyes a burning and flashing like lightning:

My father grieved when I was gone;

‘Look, mother,’ said the man, ‘at the beautiful bird that is singing so magnificently; and how warm and bright the sun is, and what a delicious scent of spice in the air!’

My sister loved me best of all;

then little Marleen laid her head down on her knees and sobbed. ‘I must go outside and see the bird nearer,’ said the man. ‘Ah, do not go!’ cried the wife. ‘I feel as if the whole house were in flames!’ But the man went out and looked at the bird.

She laid her kerchief over me, And took my bones that they might lie Underneath the juniper-tree Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!’

With that the bird let fall the gold chain, and it fell just round the man’s neck, so that it fitted him exactly. He went inside, and said, ‘See, what a splendid bird that is; he has given me this beautiful gold chain, and looks so beautiful himself.’ But the wife was in such fear and trouble, that she fell on the floor, and her cap fell from her head. Then the bird began again:

‘My mother killed her little son;

‘Ah me!’ cried the wife, ‘if I were but a thousand feet beneath the earth, that I might not hear that song.’

My father grieved when I was gone;

then the woman fell down again as if dead.

My sister loved me best of all;

‘Well,’ said little Marleen, ‘I will go out too and see if the bird will give me anything.’ So she went out.

She laid her kerchief over me, And took my bones that they might lie

and he threw down the shoes to her,

Underneath the juniper-tree Kywitt, Kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!’

And she now felt quite happy and lighthearted; she put on the shoes and danced and jumped about in them. ‘I was so miserable,’ she said, ‘when I came out, but that has all passed away; that is indeed a splendid bird, and he has given me a pair of red shoes.’ The wife sprang up, with her hair standing out from her head like flames of fire. ‘Then I will go out too,’ she said, ‘and see if it will lighten my misery, for I feel as if the world were coming to an end.’ But as she crossed the threshold, crash! the bird threw the millstone down on her head, and she was crushed to death. The father and little Marleen heard the sound and ran out, but they only saw mist and flame and fire rising from the spot, and when these had passed, there stood the little brother, and he took the father and little Marleen by the hand; then they all three rejoiced, and went inside together and sat down to their dinners and ate.

#asks #replies #public domain characters #public domain #fairy tales #The juniper tree

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