#They do NOT look like they've lived on island nations their whole lives

[dna-d2]

So I just realized something that’s total bullshit with the post-timeskip character designs in One Piece.

Everyone’s pissed about how everyone got like ten shades lighter, so Toei or whoever goes “Oh well the dark-skinned thing was just a design error that we couldn’t just stop for no reason, so we waited until timeskip to properly fix it”

But I realized that that is BULLSHIT

And that’s because of ROBIN

So pre-timeskip Robin looks like this, right?

She has the kinda darker skin and blue eyes

While post-timeskip Robin looks like this

Still with the blue eyes but now the way lighter skin, like everyone else

Like I said before, this is because APPARENTLY, back in the day, the anime’s designers didn’t know the official color scheme for Robin back when she first appeared, so they made her look the way she did. Apparently that sorta thing just happened a lot. (Like with Vegeta in that one filler episode of DBZ) So they made her lighter skinned with the intention to “fix” their mistake, along with a few other characters, to properly match the manga

Except it still doesn’t match the manga

In the manga, Robin’s eyes

Are brown

Maybe her skin is a little lighter, but she still doesn’t have blue eyes, which Toei deliberately kept for Robin’s post-timeskip design

And there’s even at least one movie where they also use Robin’s original color scheme, Strong World

Where they keep her brown eyes and not QUITE Caucasian skin tone. It’s definitely still lighter, but it doesn’t seem quite as light as post-timeskip

In conclusion, while I can’t say for sure what the motivation was behind this, I can certainly think it pretty loudly, and I think that it WASN’T just to fix their “animation design errors”

So TL;DR is that Toei really just wanted to make a bunch of the characters lighter skinned for WHATEVER reason and tried to use “manga accuracy” as an excuse and that excuse is bullshit

[seat-safety-switch]

It's weird to think of the cars of your youth being exported elsewhere. In Japan, there is a strong and confident subculture dedicated to taking classic American cars and driving them around their compact megacities. It's not a stretch to say that there are more pristine-condition GMC Astros in that tiny island nation than there are in the land of its birth.

What kind of relationship do they have to a vehicle that they never got to see new? One that they never sat in as a child at the yearly auto show? As we play with their Skylines, they enjoy the comfort of our Trailblazers. It is hard to understand the appeal, but it is certainly a "grass is greener" situation. Maybe they just think an unreliable car is a strange and entertaining novelty? Hey look, I've never seen a car with bad grounds before, they say to each other, and invite their mechanic buddies over, who also remark on the amount of casting flash left over on the coolant bottle. You can make an injection mould with a seam that sloppy?

Certainly, I can't speak to the Japanese mindset on these vehicles. I could ask someone who actually lives there, but it sounds like I might accidentally embarrass myself, or give the whole game away by inadvertently telling them that the Pontiac Sunfire actually sucks out loud. And I'd be lying to say that I don't enjoy a little bit of the mystery surrounding the shitboxes that they've given up on and exported into my country. What's that weird robot voice talking about whenever I turn the car on? Nobody can tell, but it sure sounds cool, and cool is what cars are about. Knowing things is what another, lesser, hobby is about. Maybe chess, or performing CPR on strangers for the adrenaline rush. Not this one.

Maybe it doesn't matter. We have what we enjoy, and they have what they enjoy. Europeans? I'm sure they have cars too, and some of them seem very exotic, but none of them are showing up on a roll-on/roll-off ferry in huge numbers at the local port. And their manuals are in a language I can actually read, which is a huge turn-off. If I can read them, then I might know something about them. See previous complaint.

[rottiens]

Sorry if this is all over the place.

So I've been world building a world whose main God is Gaia, but she's nothing like the Greek mythology one. This Gaia lives for drama, so after she created the World, she had children who are also gods, and then she created dragons and humans.

Later, Gaia's godly children decided to shape/curse some humans, so they created different species.

Solar lycans are werewolves who worship the Sun God, Solaris.

Lunar lycans worship the Moon Goddess, Elune.

Elves/fairies worship the God Erekmier, the god of Forest - elves are the ones who are assigned to take care of the dragons.

Hrothgars worship Hellion, the God of everything feline - Hroths have always had difficulty with creating female babies, and they're always on the verge of going extinct.

Orks and mermen/mermaids are creations of Olysseus who is the God of underground and sea - technically, he created orks to protect the gates of the underground. It's often said that orks are just elves who got cursed or disowned by Erekmier because they committed something heinous, and Olysseus hates Erekmier, so he gladly adopts his castaways to piss him off.

Every "main" species have their appointed leaders, and of course, sometimes these species often go to war. Especially the Solars. They just love war and carnage. Most often, they try to beat up the Lunars because the Lunars actually take care of their land and nature and have enough food to live comfortably.

The Solars have Darius (beefy, tanned dude with bright green eyes and raven black hair) and the Lunars have Reiner (also a beefy guy, but with blond hair and golden eyes), and they've been enemies since they were teenagers for centuries now - lycans in this world are also immortals, unless they get fatally wounded. They look as young or old as they feel, and scars work just the same - if you're a lycan and you have a scar that reminds you of a traumatic event you can't get over, that scar won't fade away until you manage to get over it.

And these unhealed scars and the sexual tension let Darius and Reiner know they're totally into each other, but they have to pretend they're totally not because they can't let their nations and gods down.

But once Darius realizes that the Solar government is a fraud, he escapes to Reiner where the two of them decide to beat the Solars into submission.

Later, Reiner finds a human girl, Lucy Harlow who is a bit more talented than usual with manipulating fire and she's also a very good horse rider (iykyk) - magic is pretty common among the immortal species, but human bodies often can't handle the energy shifts. Lucy's weakness is /creating/ the fire out of thin air, it weakens her. Luckily for her, Darius is the opposite - he can easily create fire, but cannot bend it + Darius has a shitton of battle experience and he can train her.

(Tw: miscarriage) Long story short, several battles later, she becomes famous and Reiner and Darius get into a poly relationship with her. They have many babies, but only one girl, and they were expecting the second girly when a Solar tries to assassinate two of their sons, and Lucy has to fight the bastard for her babies. The only problem was that this fight happened on Gaia's Holy Ivory Island, where no one was allowed to shed blood or kill anybody. As Lucy was the one who killed in the end, she was called in front of the Gods (while her body was laying unconscious in front of her husbands and children).

She figures out that her biological mother is the Goddess of Volcanoes and Lava and she's been missing for many years now because a God wasn't allowed to mate with a human. Lucy's existence angers Gaia, and now Lucy also disrespected the Goddess with killing on her holy land. Gaia tells Lucy that her whole bloodline is a mistake and one of Lucy's ancestors will kill them all if Lucy doesn't kill them herself. Of course, Lucy will not do it and Gaia immediately punishes her with taking her unborn babygirl.

As the years pass, Lucy realises the Gods are out to kill her children, so she takes it upon herself to raise an army that could defy the divine. She goes to unseen, snowwy lands where the last dragon eggs are hidden. She creates a magic egg that allows gay species to have children (esp good for Hrothgars). She learns how to tame fire without moving a muscle, so she can still use physical weapons too. As she raises her dragon, she won't even need Darius anymore because the dragon is more effective in creating fire.

She takes it upon herself to destroy an entire city of criminals with her fire, because that's the only thing that makes the Solars swore to her - she becomes almost villainous by the time Darius' long lost daughter (from another mother) assassinates her.

And that's when Lucy's grandson, Werner reveals that he's a Shadow Master, and he's so much worse than Lucy was. Werner despises humans and gods. He kills anyone and anything that's in his way, and Lucy's remaining family is terrified that Werner will bring an eternal Eclipse on the World, and they have to choose if they use Lucy's army to defeat Werner or to defeat the Divine.

Babe your great mind ! I am impressed with all the story you have organized so far. The world building is incredibly detailed! <3 the goddess dynamic you have created and the races seems very interesting to me. Are you working on this already? Like a book or something ? Because it sounds very interesting and you seem to have everything so in order that I hope you don't let this idea die, because you have a lot of work to do and I'd be among your readers 

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 Martinaise, Terminal B

5. "Can't promise that. I might attack him again."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant groans, but doesn't say anything.

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - That's right, you *should* do it again! It's the *last* thing he'll be expecting.

🎵 Instrument of Surrender

There are two ways into the Jam. One is just south of the scabbers.

GRAAD FACTORY OF MAGNETS AND MIRACLES U49 - A lorry stuck in the traffic jam. This big, heavy Graad-made machine is well kept for such an old machine.

Look in the window.

[Leave.]

GRAAD FACTORY OF MAGNETS AND MIRACLES U49 - The windows are clear, they've been recently washed. You can see a lorryman's cabin with personal belongings, stickers, insignia...

+5 XP

What kind of stickers and insignia?

What about the back seat?

[Leave].

GRAAD FACTORY OF MAGNETS AND MIRACLES U49 - The driver has adorned his space with a substantial collection of peculiar paraphernalia. Proclamations about *honour*, *strength*, and *purity* are glued to various panels.

2. What about the back seat?

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) - The back end of the cabin has a small perch to sleep. Large ashtrays. There are several suns and wheels sown into the curtains.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Racist-nationalist paraphernalia." He grits his teeth. "Not unusual in this part of town. This is our guy." The lieutenant nods towards the racist lorry driver.

3. "You think this lorry belongs to our tough guy?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Likely, yes. This guy's proud of who he is. Drapes it all over his machine."

+5 XP

4. [Leave.]

A foreign car. Kept in good condition.

There's 1.47 in the back of this truck.

Ruins full of snow. No one lives here anymore.

WHITE TANK TOP

+1 Physical Instrument: Work it!

Tank top! Gym vest! Reeking of sweat! This sleeveless shirt is the best choice if you're not afraid to show off your masculine upper body and that hairy chest.

A bold slogan 'HUMANOX' covers the truck.

HORSEBACK MONUMENT - An old monument stands in the middle of the traffic island, pointing toward the sea. It looks as if it's been reassembled piece-by-piece, secured and mounted in the air with the aid of numerous ropes and rods.

Who is this?

[Leave.]

HORSEBACK MONUMENT - A silver plaque on the statue's pedestal reads: 'I am Filippe III, the Squanderer, the Greatest of the Filippian Kings of Revachol; Son of Filippe II, the Opulent; Father of Filippe IV, the Insane.'

VOLITION [Medium: Success] - Not a good track record of mental health in that family.

2. [Encyclopedia - Medium 11] What did this king do?

+1 heard crater story from Rene. +1 Reality lowdown gotten.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - Even by the standards of the Filippian kings, Old Sumptuous Filippe was known for his profligacy.

In what way?

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Well, he blew through the whole national treasury, starting the decline of one of the penultimate century's greatest superpowers: the Suzerain of Revachol...

His own maladministration foreshadowed the fall of the monarchy during the Antecentennial Revolution, an end to his family line and the monarchy on the Insulindian isola.

How did he manage to blow through *the entire national treasury*?

Fair enough, I have other questions. (Stop the knowledge from pouring in.)

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Stories have it that he had his bedroom converted into a treasure chamber where he stored unfathomable wealth: *krugerrands*, bars of gold, ornate weaponry, armour, and various chalices.

He called it the *Sol Aurum*. It was obscene. There were whispers he slept on a huge pile of gold-dipped feathers like some obese dragon, instead of a bed like a normal person.

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - The man certainly knew how to live!

[oneofthosesimps]

God knows I tried

pairing: levi x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 7983

summary: reader comes to paradise with yelena and the others. although you are marleyan, you want to fight for the eldian. at the beginning you experience harsh rejection before levi develops feelings for you

warnings: SPOILER season 4, first time, angst, fluff, smut, harsh words

authors note: i got the idea from a request (although i interpreted it completely different and wrong, i'm sorry (still)). well, i want to elaborate and develop my writing skills a bit, which is why i'm trying out a bit at the moment. that's why i focused less on smut and more on conveying feelings. i hope you like it and once again, i'll write the story again with the theme of the actual request and more smut (it's on my list)

all credits to the artist of this pic:

Bev-Nap

-----

You feel out of place, even though you have fought so long to sit right here. Not only the icy stares of your opposite but also the tense posture of your comrades give you exactly that feeling. A silence overcomes you at the table, while you can hear the sound of metal and ammunition. You dare not lift your eyes and instead look at the cup in your hands. The tent is filled with the scent of black tea, which blends with the sound of chirping crickets to create a symphony of summer, if only it wasn't so cold. A heavy stone rests on your chest and a nervousness creeps through your body that you have rarely felt before. Your warrior heart is a wrinkled mess and you are surprised at yourself for the thoughts that are floating through your head right now. It has been a long time since you felt so small. Your gaze lifts slightly and your eyes fall on folded arms. You can see veins on his hands, winding along under his skin. They follow the contours of his muscles, which are hidden under his jacket. Wings emblazon one of his shoulders and right above his heart and you eye the beautiful symbol before your eyes travel even higher.

Frozen iron looks at you and a shiver runs down your spine. His half-closed eyes are partially covered by his black hair and yet hatred shines through them. You are paralysed for a moment before you pull away and look at the woman beside him instead. You hold your breath as she looks curiously down the barrel of the loaded pistol and your right fingers clutch the porcelain in your hand. If a shot were fired now, she would also lose her remaining sight.

A broad grin settles on her face, which is bathed in a warm orange by the lamp above you, reflecting through the lenses of her glasses, "Oh, I see. So you can shoot multiple times with it." She is wearing the same clothes as Levi and inwardly you wonder what the wing symbol is all about.

Your gaze wanders to the left and you look at the tall, blonde woman. Yelena's features are soft and you admire her for her courage and composure. If she is insecure, she has that feeling hidden deep within her and doesn't let it show through. Her eyes glance at the cup in her hand as she eyes the dark liquid, "Those are Marleyan soldiers' standard equipment." Hange's fascination does not abate and she turns the weapon from right to left.

Yelena's hand grips the handle of the cup before she takes a small sip and sets it down again, "Each Marleyan's army divisions consists of about 20,000 soldiers. There are 50 divisions in total, making around a million of them."

The brown-haired woman's face slips and you can see the surprise and shock in them. Slowly she lowers the firearm and places it on the table.

"In addition to that, they possess three fleets consisting of 21 battle ships. They've also seen incredible progress with new weapons including aerial military capabilities," Yelena continues, briefly fixing her gaze on the pistol before catching Hange's eye.

"...Aerial?" You can hear the tremor in her voice and light beads of sweat settle on her forehead. Small wrinkles form around her lips. A second later she yelps as Levi nudges her with his foot and leans towards her. His voice is low as he talks to her and you exchange brief glances with Onyankopon. His large dark eyes look at you as confused as you feel and your brow furrows. His eyes turn back to the two people opposite you and he clears his throat, "So in other words, mobile weapons that can go beyond seas and walls, and drop the enemy from the sky." His explanation seems to strike a chord with Hange and she jumps to her feet. Her chair scrapes across the floor before toppling backwards with a thud. She slams her palms down on the table and leans her upper body towards you, "They'll come from the sky?!"

Despite her joyful enthusiasm, this little phrase leaves a bitter note. Suddenly you realise again how terribly sad this situation is. Such things are normality for people on the mainland. Guns and flying ships are technologies that have been around for a long time. The whole world uses them, except for a small island in the middle of the sea. Hange has never seen such things in her life, nor have the rest of the people in this camp and within the walls. Although they are the same people, they live such different lives.

Your mouth goes dry and you take a big sip of your tea, almost burning your tongue. The feeling mixes with the pain in your chest and your heart tightens. So much has gone wrong, so much you now have to fix and undo. The weight on your shoulders seems to crush you as you continue to look to Hange, not letting on.

She leans forward even further and her face becomes thoughtful, "Marley has all that wonderful power, yet they haven't launched a proper attack on us for almost a year, why is that?"

Yelena's expression remains unchanged, "There are two main reasons." She takes her time with her words, thinking them over as she takes another sip of the dark tea. After setting the cup down she continues to speak, "The first reason is the Pure Titans that they unleashed on this island. Their existences make it hard for them to get here, even with the latest weapons. It was originally a policy meant to confine the Eldians inside the walls. However, it ended up protecting Eldian from attack."

For the first time you hear his deep voice. It sounds like dark strong honey and nestles around you. You feel as if the vibration is making the tent wall shake and goosebumps settle over you, "Seems like it. Quite ironic, I must say." He adds a snort to the end of that sentence and looks disdainful.

Yelena smiles dryly at him for a moment before lowering her gaze and breaking eye contact, "However, the day is about to break. The Titans should be active soon. Yet, we're still leisurely drinking tea here outside the wall. That means you have killed all the pure Titans on the island. Would that be correct?"

Levi's body tenses almost imperceptibly as his clothes cover much of it, but you see that his shoulders are getting even broader. The veins on his hand that you noticed earlier stand out more and you feel an electricity emanating from him. His face shows no movement and he keeps a straight face, "So what? Are you going to somehow inform Marley about it?"

This is the first time you would like to say something to convince him that you have come with good intentions and that he can trust you. But deep down you know for a reason that it will probably take the longest with him - if he will ever trust you at all.

Yelena stares at him and you can see a small smirk curl her lips, "No, It's wonderful."

Only by Levi's eyebrows can you tell he's slightly surprised as the furrow between them gets a little deeper and darker. His body tension doesn't change as he glares at you with dark eyes while Hange's right hand becomes a fist, "What's the second reason?" Her gaze wanders back and forth between the three of you.

"Marley is currently in a state of war with multiple countries," Yelena explains, "In other words, they got bigger thing to deal with. You guys have defeated Marley's trusted Warrior unit. You guys also took the Colossal Titan and the Female Titan, their key weapons. Marley is a country with many enemies. So other countries came together in a blink of an eye and then the war began."

Your gaze falls to the weapon on the wooden table and images of war run through your head. Goosebumps forms on your skin as the sound of guns being fired echoes through your head and you shake slightly. Your breathing changes through your quickening heart and you feel Levi's eyes on you for a split second.

"So that means you guys are the people of losing countries with grudges against Marley. And you infiltrated the army as some sort of intelligence agent?" The air around you thickens and grows heavier and Yelena closes her mouth. You see a small change of temper in her before you stare at Hange. Seconds pass and no one says anything before a small, happy sound comes from the brunette and she smiles broadly at you, "Oh, was that a bullseye? As I thought, you guys must have convincing enough motives and backers to betray Marley like that."

Yelena's hand tightens around her cup and Onyankopon and you do likewise. Again your heart tightens and you lower your gaze. Unnecessary guilt creeps from the depths of your soul to the brightness and spreads through your body. How many people, how many women and men and children have lost their lives? Why are you, of all people, sitting here? What can you contribute? Questions and questions swirl in your head and you literally drown in the wave that drives them.

Your thoughts almost overwhelm you Yelena's voice comes through to you, "We lost our homeland to Marley and join their army as conscripts. We're weak. We also start losing hope in opposing such a big nation. It is until we're guided by him."

Something warm mingles with the tension and darkness as her posture changes and all tension falls from her. Her chin lifts and she looks up into the brightness of the lamp above her, literally making her eyes glow. A slight smile settles on her face as her eyes glaze over, "Marley and the world feared the Titans as devils. However, it looked like something else to me. A god." At these words, she jolts and a shiver runs down your spine. Sometimes Yelena seems like a believer, as if she has seen something that is still hidden from the rest of you. In such moments you notice again how different your drives are, although you are striving for the same goal. Deep down, however, she sometimes frightens you, even if you would never admit it, but she seemed like an addict on the way to her redemption. "He gave us hope when we're at our weakest," she continues and for a moment she seems to float above the tent before coming back to the here and now and lapsing back to normality, "We shot our superior under the orders of Zeke Yeager. We're the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. Our goal is to free the Eldian people."

"By betraying your own people?", Levi's voice echoes again through the small cloth fenced room and your eyes shoot to him. With the corners of his mouth pulled down, he meets you and you almost choke on your own saliva. Your hands form into fists and your eyebrows draw together.

"She has proven herself often enough. Her background may be different, but we fight for the same goal," Yelena's unimpressed voice pre-empts yours, but the tension between you does not subside. Instead, sparks of anger almost fly out of you. Your self-doubt has just been pulled out of you and laid bare on the table for all to see. It is raging inside you. Hange's gaze also falls on you and she examines your presence, which seems small next to Onyankopon's and especially Yelena's, from top to bottom. "Why is someone from Marley fighting for Eldia?"

Yes, why does anyone do that? Why does one fight alongside the supposed enemy to support their plans? Why do you act wholeheartedly against all that has been impressed upon you all your life?

Your nails dig into your palms and you grit your teeth, "I do not betray my people. I betray those who lead my people."

The memory mixes with the swirl of hot water in front of you. The liquid spreads in the small porcelain vessel and nestles around the leaves, which immediately begin to smell at your touch. Warm steam wets your face and makes the rest of your body shiver.

"Don't worry so much, will you?" says Niccolo from his place at the counter and raises his head. He tilts it slightly and smiles at you. His dark eyes sparkle at you across the room as his blond hair falls wildly across his forehead. It's a stark contrast to the storm going on outside. You return his gaze with a slight smile before he turns his attention back to the vegetables in front of him. The sound of steady chopping movements fills the room and you glance back at the teapot. A sigh falls from your lips and you support yourself with both hands on the countertop.

"That's easier said than done, Niccolo. You know me."

"Yes, I know you and that's why I'm sure you have nothing to worry about".

A soft huff comes out of your mouth and you roll your eyes, "Yeah, sure. That's easy for you to say, Eldian."

His head lifts again and he looks into your eyes with slightly furrowed brows, "I mean it, Marleyan". You pucker the corners of your mouth slightly at that name. Although that is exactly the right name for you, you don't identify with it. The word has a negative connotation and tends to bring bad qualities with it. And that is not you. You are not Marleyan, you are just and simply you.

His face looks more unhappy and he seems thoughtful before a smile settles over his lips again, “I trust you, we trust you and they do too. You've done so much in your time here and even before. Don't be so critical of yourself."

Your eyes fall back to the pot in front of you and you place the lid over the opening. With a push, you push yourself off the counter and cross your arms in front of your chest, "You're right.”

"Of course, I am," he smirks. His radiance continues to fill the room and his warmth reaches you, flooding you and your little heart, and your lips pull up slightly as well. Niccolo is to be envied for his positive nature. He is by far one of the nicest people you have ever had the pleasure of meeting in your life and a truly true friend. Perhaps his nature is also the reason why he is such a good cook. His nimble fingers allow his thoughts and emotions to seep into his food and every bite has a piece of his soul in it.

"I mean, you and Sasha are the best example of what can become of two opposing camps." You hear an uneven cut and see him wince slightly. His cheeks turn pink and a grin spreads across your face. He puts the knife down and places his right hand on the back of his neck, nervously stroking his hair, "Yeah, you think so?"

"Who doesn't?" the tips of his ears turn pink too. He looks cute.

"My food is just good. That's the real reason Sasha comes."

You snort. "No, Sasha comes for your food as well. But I'm sure there's another, bigger point that's much more important." Again, a smile curls his lips and he looks happy.

"I envy you for that," you murmur, your expression changing slightly. A tide of sadness settles over you, leaving your body shivering.

"Envy me? But for what?"

"I just wish I could get along with them as well. I wish I had a significant other too."

Now comes a snort from Niccolo. Surprised, you look at him and he shakes his head, "Yes, I have Sasha. But you have someone else for that". As you continue to look confused, he takes the towel from his shoulder and throws it on the countertop. "Don't act like that. I've seen the looks on his face. Don't pretend you don't know who and what I'm talking about."

You tear open your eyes and your breath catches in your throat. Immediately a heat rises to your face as you understand who he is talking about and a deep blush settles over your cheeks, far surpassing his.

"I-I don't know what you mean," you stammer to yourself as your face gets even hotter and it is now time for Niccolo to grin at you. "N-no, you've got it wrong. Levi and I ... we ... this is absolutely nothing."

"So Levi, huh?" You slap yourself for saying his first name so carelessly.

"The captain and I," you begin again, "there is nothing. I don't think there could be anything with anyone either. You know him, he's a cold lump of ice." You look down at your feet on the floor, "besides, he hates Marley and I can't even blame him."

A silence settles over you before you hear footsteps. As Niccolo puts his hand on your shoulder, you lift your gaze again and warm brown looks at you. "That may be, but I can tell you one thing: I can clearly see that he doesn't hate you".

"You think so, huh?" you bite your lower lip, unable to suppress the flutter of wings from the butterflies in your stomach. He squeezes your shoulder lightly with his hand, "I mean it, yes."

You mirror his soft smile, but it doesn't reach your heart. Maybe Niccolo is right in what he says, but it was rather unlikely and your body can't imagine Levi feeling this way. Your head tells you that's not the case. You are alone.

A knock on the door snaps you out of your thoughts and he drops his arm. The wooden door opens with a soft squeak and a dark brown pigtail pokes its head into the room. Big brown eyes look at you and you notice Niccolo's energy change.

"I hope I'm not too late," Sasha says happily and opens the door wider. Still in her uniform, which accentuates the curves of her body, she raises her hand and waves at you. You smile broadly at her and take a step back.

"Absolutely not, you're just in time. I've already got the vegetables ready," Niccolo says, grabbing the kitchen towel again. Sasha jumps in the air with happiness and runs past him to the counter with the chopping board. You see another slight blush on Niccolo's face before he turns away from you and takes his place beside her. You watch the two of them for a brief moment and your heart blossoms. Who would have ever thought that feelings could arise between two actually so hostile parties. And they both seem more than happy, even if it is hard to tell at the moment because Sasha is literally foaming at the mouth with hunger. You place the teapot on the tray next to it and leave the two of them discussing about the best temperature for the soup.

Your feet carry you through the kitchen door and you stride down a long corridor. The storm outside is slowly getting stronger, whipping against the windows. Without thinking, you walk through the building. You have been walking this way several times a day for several months now, you could serve tea in your sleep. By now you are probably even better at this than at holding a gun and fighting. When you reach the end, you stop in front of a large door.

Your knuckles touch the wood and you knock on it three times in quick succession. There is silence for a moment before Levi's dark voice comes muffled from the other side of the door, "Name and request."

You clear your throat briefly, "It's me, sir. I've brought your lunchtime tea." You hear the rustling of paper for a brief moment.

"Come in."

Your hand grips the cold metal of the door handle and you push it down.

The captain's office is probably very similar to the one in the capital, at least that's how Hange once described it to you. In his back is a large window framed by curtains, through which the sun's rays fall in the afternoon. Due to the rain today, however, it is a little darker and rather unlikely that you will be able to see the setting of the sun. The remaining walls are either empty or filled with shelves containing all kinds of books. In the back half is a massive desk, its surface almost completely filled with stacks of papers. Levi sits in his chair, as he usually does, his head bent over his papers, causing strands of his black hair to spread across his forehead.

There is a scent of detergent in the room, which mixes with his body odour. Sometimes you have the feeling that he is gradually taking on the smell of lemon and lime and regret the fall of cedar, earth and something else that you could never quite put your finger on until now. As soon as he senses your presence at the entrance, his eyes lift and your heart slips a little. You lick your lower lip to moisten it and feel your hands grow a little damp as you clutch the handles of the tray. Shadows are on his face and you can see the circles that have formed under his eyes.

For a brief moment you look at each other before you tear your gaze away and your feet move across the wooden floor.

"How are you, sir?" you ask as you set the tray down on a dresser on the left wall and take the cup and coaster in your hand.

"Tch, I already told you that you can call me Levi."

Your toes just barely touch the surface of the water and you dip them in before they come back out. It was completely silent except for the chatter of the people behind you and the sound of the ocean. Somewhere you could make out Niccolo's loud laughter and you smirk inwardly. The waves of the sea flow towards you before breaking on the piers of the pier.

The moon is still low over the horizon, but a few stars can already be seen in the cloudless sky. A gentle breeze sweeps over you and you pull your jacket tighter around you, snuggling into it. It is so incredibly peaceful and beautiful, it is hard to put into words.

"Tch, you shouldn't go so far away," says a cold, deep voice behind you, a total contrast to the rest of the scenario. Startled, you turn away from the reflection of the twinkling stars and look behind you.

His hands buried in the pockets of his suit, he looks down at you with a slightly annoyed expression and half-closed eyes. His figure is captured by the black fabric and it flatters him very much, fitting perfectly. You wonder if he had it tailored. A cold shiver runs down your spine as he eyes you.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir," you stammer, pulling your feet out of the water. Just as you are about to get up to quickly run back to the others to not annoy the captain more, he plops down beside you. Confused, you stare straight ahead and tense up as he makes himself comfortable next to you. Should you go now anyway? After a few seconds, he makes no move to tell you again, so you remain seated. The mood remains tense and does not fit in at all with the relaxing sounds around you. His hand is right next to yours and your knees are almost touching. Out of the corner of your eye you eye him and maybe it's the moonlight accentuating his contours, but he looks different. Had he always been so handsome? Such a face should be forbidden. A breeze comes up again, tousling his hair slightly, and you breathe in. Has he always smelled this good? Such a smell should be forbidden.

You look towards the moon, trying to control your rapid heartbeat. Your hands begin to sweat and the situation becomes uncomfortable. You've never spent any of your free time with him before, it doesn't feel right.

"Doesn’t it look beautiful ," you murmur to break the silence.

You hear a snort beside you and look at Levi, instantly regretting your statement. His eyes resemble the stars in the sky, even as they slowly turn dull and grey, "Yes, but at what cost?"

You frown slightly, confused by his statement and he looks past you, "How long we fought to be able to sit here."

A light goes on in your head and you bite the inside of your cheek. You didn't mean it like that, that's not what you wanted. Shame and anger come over you. Sasha told you a bit about her background when she was with you and Niccolo in the kitchen. You could never understand how much they have been through. The pain they are in is immeasurable.

"How many people I have lost to sit here," he murmurs, probably more to himself than to you, "Isabel, Petra, Erwin...", at the last name his voice breaks off and he hangs his head. The next breath of wind that surrounds you makes you freeze. This situation is cruel and deep inside you ask yourself how it came to this and why he is saying these things to you of all people. None of these names mean anything to you, but you feel his pain. You have never seen him like this, so fragile and weak. Tears come to your eyes and you are speechless. Your heart tightens and you feel the need to take him in your arms, to help him somehow. A huge burden lies on you. Your people have done this and now you have to make up for these mistakes. At that moment you realise that this will never be possible. You can never make up for something like this. It remains silent between you, the sea no longer has anything happy about it. Instead, it seems to you that every sound, every wave, reflects the cries of fallen friends, comrades and families.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, looking down at your hands, which you place in your lap. A tear drips onto them and you brush it away.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Your head lifts and you look at him. His gaze is averted and his knuckles turn white as he grips the edge of the pier.

"Yes, it is. Somehow it is," you murmur, seeking his gaze. As he returns it, the grey in them moves and slowly changes again. "I should have done something sooner, I'm so sorry. I can never make it right, but I'm trying to do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again. So that no one ever has to suffer at the hands of my people again, sir." Please believe me.

There it is again, the silver sparkle slowly coming back. Your heart beats heavy inside you, burning. Levi eyes you for a long time, letting his eyes glide over your features, and you do the same. You block out your surroundings, taking in only the sound of his steady breathing and the feel of his closeness.

"Call me Levi."

A barely perceptible blush settles over your cheeks once more as you set the dishes down on the only small space on the desk and remember this scene. Forms, reports and the like form a neat chaos that follows a strict principle. Never have your eyes seen even a piece of paper on this floor. He is the cleanest person you have ever met.

"Sorry, I just got so used to call you sir or captain." You lift your gaze briefly, looking into cool grey. Your assumption earlier was correct, his dark circles are darker than ever. He looks terribly tired and exhausted, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to maintain his strong posture.

You smile at him briefly before going back to the dresser. You feel his eyes on you the whole time, which sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"When was the last time you had a break?" your hands grip the porcelain of the pot. There is a silence between you as you pour him his tea. His lack of response speaks volumes and you feel sorry for him. It must not be easy being in charge next to Hange. Does he ever wish for a break inside? Does he even know such a thing? The quiet flow of liquid breaks the silence as he continues to look at you. Your nervousness increases and your butterflies fly stronger, tickling your stomach.

As always, he takes a sip of tea as soon as you finish and as always, you look at his fingers as they wrap around the top of the cup. Many times you have wondered where he had learned to drink like that, but over time your thoughts change. Instead you admire his hands, his long slender limbs that conjure up dreams in your mind. Your left hand forms into a fist as your face turns red.

"Good", he says as he raises an eyebrow and eyes you questioningly.

You just nod at him and walk quickly back to the dresser, hiding your face from him. As you put the pot back in its place, your hands tremble and you take a deep breath to slow your breathing. It is unimaginable what he is doing to you. Is this how Niccolo always feels when he sees Sasha?

Finally, you turn and look down at the floor, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Your hands play nervously with each other as you hold them in front of your body.

Silence falls again and seconds pass, it takes longer than usual to answer this question and you are beginning to wonder if he didn’t hear you.

"No, you can go," he finally says. You nod and head for the door. You don't dare look at him again, to prevent him from reading you like a book. Because he is extremely good in this area. Sometimes he knows more about his counterpart than he does himself. Just as you are about to reach for the door handle again and push it down, you hear his voice again, "Are you happy here?"

You open your eyes slightly and turn to him. Your eyes cross again and your forehead wrinkles. His eyes look different than usual, the grey seems much warmer and ... darker? You have never seen his eyes this colour before. You swallow hard and give up trying to control your heart. His question is unexpected and you can't find an immediate answer. In fact, you've asked it yourself many times before. There is no comparison to Marley, positive or negative, it is a very different life. Either way, it feels like you're a prisoner. Like you don't belong in either world. You remember Marley, your family, who you will probably never see again because they never want to see you again. At the latest after they found out you were leaving them, you were on your own. But you are sure that they already had an idea of what it was like and that their hatred began much earlier. How different your thoughts were and are compared to those of the rest of the people there. And here in the realm of the devils, it hardly seems any different. Of course, you are now a little closer to your goal, but even here you are not welcome. You fight for people who do not want you.

"I'm not unhappy," you murmur and slump your shoulders, "I just feel lonely."

You see his head working and an emotion wash over his face. Again, there is a long silence before he opens his mouth, "Why lonely?"

"Well," you stammer a little, surprised at the direction your encounter today is taking. It's funny how much has changed since that time in the tent.

"It seems to me that everyone has their purpose, that everyone knows their place. Yelena, for example, led us here, has been our leader from the beginning. She takes care of all these important things and what do I do? I get to help Niccolo prepare the food and I get to bring you tea." Your hands form into fists and anger rises from your belly. "I'm not allowed to go anywhere near the city or you'd have to worry that I won't come back because they've put an end to my life. What have I been fighting for all this time?" Without you realising it yourself, your voice rises and you become louder. "I try to do something good, to achieve something, but nothing happens. I can't do anything. What am I doing here? What did I do in Marley? Why does everyone hate me?", the last words are more of a whisper and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. Your emotions overtake you. The anger slowly fades, leaving a bitter, nauseating taste. You are so pathetic. Your life is useless, you are useless. You stand in the office of the man who is your superior, who is supposed to look after you so that you don't betray anyone, who hates your people from the bottom of his heart and who brings out feelings in you that shouldn't be there. Your body begins to shake slightly and you wipe away individual tears. What has happened to you since that moment in the tent? You feel as if you are losing sight of your purpose, the one thing that drove you to keep living.

"I don't hate you."

You look at him in surprise. His body looks tense and you regret having such an outburst. Levi is not really one of the people you should and would pour your heart out to like that. Suddenly you feel terribly small and stupid. While you have confided in each other more and more little things over time, such outbursts of emotion is still unusual. Especially since Levi very rarely lets you see through his shell. He probably just wanted to be nice and didn't expect you to pour your heart out to him right away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have burdened you with this." You straighten your figure and smile at him. "If anything should be the matter, don't hesitate to let me know". With these words, you turn and open the door. You want nothing more than to leave this room and escape from this uncomfortable situation.

Before you can take a single step, it slams shut again. Immediately you tense up and freeze. Your eyes widen in shock and surprise. His hand is right next to your head and his body is leaning against the wood. His presence is strong and warm and you feel the need to fall backwards against him. Your belly does somersaults and the butterflies come to life. Slowly, as if in slow motion, you turn towards him and immediately press yourself against the door behind you. He is close, much too close, much closer than you suspected. His eyes sparkle at you, the grey has turned to silver which darkens as you return his gaze. You feel trapped like an animal about to be eaten by its hunter.

" You are talking bullshit, idiot," his warm breath swirls over your skin, his dark voice even deeper than usual. You expel a long-held breath and your nails dig into your skin as you form your hands into fists again. The tension between you is huge and the air is about to crackle. Your heart beats with strong, firm thumps against your ribcage. If it keeps up like this, it's going to jump out.

"Yeah, you think so?" you murmur, licking your dry lower lip. You press harder against the door as his gaze lands on your lips. Your chest almost aches from the hammering of your heart. You feel as if you are about to throw up. Your nerve endings tingle with anticipation. Very slowly his head moves towards you. If this is a dream, you don't want to wake up, ever. The movements are barely noticeable and you hold your breath again.

"Yes, I think so," he murmurs, stopping in front of your face. His silver eyes meet yours and a deep, strong feeling runs through you. He sees something in your eyes just before his lips touch yours. You don't dare move. The touch is light as a feather and your eyes close to take it in fully. His lips are much softer than you expected. They move like wings against yours and your eyes roll into your skull. Despite the light touch, whole emotions wash over you that you can barely tell apart. Lust, loss, happiness, sadness, desire, restraint. They swirl through your head and make you dizzy. He leans closer against you and you can't suppress the soft moan that escapes you. His body tenses, but he doesn't flinch. Instead, the kiss becomes more decisive, stronger. His tongue licks over your lower lip and you collapse inside. Another moan comes from you, this time a lot louder and you open your lips, greedy to get more, to taste more. The kiss breaks away, leaving you both breathless. Your head spins and all your weight falls against the door, your legs wobbly. You can't deny that you've thought about scenarios like this many times.

And your eyes meet again and your heart aches for a brief moment as you can see something in them. "This shouldn't have happened," you sum up your train of thought and speak it. The sentence hangs between you. You see the approval in his eyes, but his body makes no move in it. His chest rises almost as fast as yours and his expression is inscrutable. It almost seems as if he is fighting an internal battle, "You're right, the risk is too great."

Your head is screaming at you to leave, to say goodbye here and now and step through that door. You need to get some distance. This must never, ever happen again. Please, please go. Your head repeats these words over and over. But your gut...

"Would you take the risk again?"

Not even a second passes after you have uttered the sentence. Not even a second passes before his lips land on yours again. This time it is completely different. The kiss is more brutal. Immediately his tongue snakes between your lips, finding its way into your mouth. You play with each other as you cling to his shoulders to keep from falling over. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against him. Your whole body is on fire as he explores your mouth with pleasure. He elicits one moan after another and enjoys the little noises you make. Your brain can barely process what is going on. What is happening here? An Eldian and a Marleyan? How can that be? Of course, it's similar with Niccolo and Sasha, but Levi is a completely different act. He was the person who even made a name for himself in Marley, a country he has never been to. He is one of the highest animals here.

He's just unbelievably perfect.

He releases the kiss and you gasp. Immediately his lips settle on your jaw before he moves further down and sucks on your neck. His tongue runs over your pulse and it takes your breath away. Is this really going to lead to that one thing? Should you really be doing this? The questions in your head give you a headache that eases as soon as he sucks on the thin skin of your neck. Slowly your head gives up, the screaming quiets and instead your gut and heart come to the fore, wanting in unison just the opposite. You want to feel him, more than this.

Awkwardly, your hands wander to his belt and you try to undo the buckle with trembling hands. All this is not so easy when you have no idea about it. To your surprise, he doesn't stop you. You can still feel the battle he is fighting inside, but it seems that his heart is also stronger. His big hands dig into your hips and he lurks above you. His mouth finds yours again and he kisses the swollen lips, sucking on them and in the same move your soul out of you. What takes you what feels like an eternity is only a few moves for him. He opens your trousers with an ease that makes your knees go weak. His hands move from your hips to the waistband and he pushes it off your pelvis. Without releasing the kiss, you slide them off your legs and feet. Goosebumps form on your legs as your overheated skin touches the cool air in the room.

His hands run over your pelvic bone, down to your thighs and caress your soft skin. A soft moan comes from him at the touch, making the butterflies in your stomach dance again. He reaches around your legs and lifts you up, his hands moving to your buttocks in the same motion and clasping it. You whimper as soon as you feel them. Never before had a man touched you like this. When should that have happened too? You have spent most of your life in the midst of war, never having had time for such things. He kneads the fat of your ass and a deep, dark moan comes from deep in his throat. The sound makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you cling to him. He holds you tightly to his body and you feel as if you are both drowning men, clinging to the last bit of your lives.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," he moans against your neck as he strokes your soft skin and pulls your ass cheeks apart.

"I know," you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

"And I'm sorry it's happening here now."

"It's okay." His hands dig deeper into the flesh and your lower body is on fire. You've never felt such lust and greed in your life.

"No, it isn't. You deserve better". With these words you feel his fingers between your legs, the fingers you had thought about so many times before, and you go insane. It is indescribable when he pulls the thin fabric aside. It is indescribable when the cool air hits your core and then his fingers brush against it. Your nails dig into the fabric of his shirt, you moan loudly against his neck and bury your face, grateful that he can't see it right now.

His fingers caress your cunt and you whimper. Your pelvis automatically presses against his hand before it disappears. And again, it is indescribable as you feel his tip between your lower lips. He smears your juice, rubbing it along his hard cock before you feel it against your hole. "I just can't hold back anymore, I'm so sorry".

You draw in air through your nose, tensing slightly. A mixture of fear and anticipation, panic and anticipation, flows through your body. Your cunt tingles and there is only one thing that can soothe that tingle.

His tip penetrates you. Your world turns upside down and you groan. Your eyes close and you focus on the sensation. In all your imaginings, secretly night after night as his eyes roamed your mind, it was never like this. The pain you wait for doesn't come. Instead, a warm, indescribable feeling flows through you. Every inch of him stretches you further, fills you. It fits so damn perfectly, like it was never meant to be any other way. When he's completely inside you, he exhales shakily and you only notice now how tense he is. A moan comes from his lips as your insides clench and you lean back, your back pressed against the door again. Your eyes meet and your mouth opens slightly. There is a slight blush on his cheeks too, barely noticeable. His eyebrows are slightly drawn together, creating creases between them, and his eyes are almost black. You lift your right hand and place it against his cheek, caressing his cheekbone. He looks so erotic. As if he can read your mind, he leans down to you and again your lips touch, but this time more gently, as if this moment is fragile.

His pelvis pulls back and he thrusts for the first time. You moan out, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled. Your kiss breaks away and he rests his forehead against yours. With your eyes closed, he thrusts against you again and again, stretching your walls, fucking you against the door. Your moans grow louder and you are unbelievably happy that the rain outside has become heavier. The whipping of the wind and the patter of the drops against the windows mixes with your sounds, almost drowning them out, making it less likely that you can be heard.

Your hands wrap around the back of his neck and you bury them in the stubble of his hair.

He searches your eyes again. Intense stares burn into your brain and the speed and hardness of his thrusts become harder. Something deep inside you stirs and you can't stop the tears that run down your cheek. They travel down your cheek and drip onto your legs, which are still tight around Levi's waist. This day is like a wild rollercoaster ride, one emotion after another overtakes you and you can hardly recover from the ups and downs. And now being fucked by Levi, for the first time in your life, leaves you speechless.

There is a tingling underneath your stomach, this time different from what the butterflies cause. You can't quite place the feeling, but you want more. Levi seems to be feeling the same way, his speed picking up even faster and his hands digging almost painfully into your ass. You stare at each other as you both moan again and again, the knot tightening and tightening. More, please more.

"I don't hate you," he whispers, repeating his words from earlier, hitting a specific spot inside you. You moan loudly and he does the same. Tears roll down your cheeks again and you are so close. His eyes watch your face and your trembling lips tell him everything. He keeps the angle, keeps bumping into that one spot that makes you fly. All the while he keeps repeating that one sentence, burning it into your minds so that you, above all, can never forget it.

"I don't hate you either," you gasp before your insides explode. It's like a firework that takes you with it. This is how you imagine flying. Nothing in your life has ever felt so good. You scream Levi's name, preaching it and clinging to it, clawing into it. Your soft walls twitch like crazy, driving Levi to explode too. He leans all his weight against you and the door, moaning as he continues to fuck you, albeit slower and slower.

As soon as you come down from your high, he slides to the floor with you in his arms. His right hand goes to the back of your head and he strokes your hair as your head rests against his neck again.

"I promise you that you will never feel lonely again."

[ot3]

do you think there's any way full incorporation of both macro & micro storytelling could work? bc for example, with something like adventure time, i found the plotlines SO sparse that i tended to forget important information by the time we got to the next one. whereas shows more like atla still tend to leave me wanting more in-between time that elaborates on mundane aspects of the world and how the characters interact with it (imo there's a reason so much fanfic focuses on that kind of thing).

going to just preemptively assume this is going to get long and stick it under a cut. as always i think questions of "what makes for good storytelling" and "can [x] type of storytelling work?" always come down to personal taste. i believe anything can work in the right circumstances and if it's well crafted enough.

anyway, yes in an ideal world i do think it's possible for these types of things to coexist but you have to be INSANELY on top of your pacing, and you can also not shy away from the implications that the macro plots have on the micro plots and vice versa, otherwise the whole thing will fall completely flat.

the thing about adventure time and forgetting what happened in the previous plotlines is that i don't think that's necessarily a flaw in adventure time's writing as much as i feel it's a type of storytelling that didn't quite vibe with you. the overarching plotlines in adventure time really aren't it's point and i genuinely don't think it matters that much if you forgot "important information." none of the actual Specifics of adventure time are actually what matters about the show. what matters about adventure time is really the atmosphere it attempts to curate in any given episode.

consider the episode "hall of egress" which is probably one of my personal favorites of all time, and was an emmy nominee - it has absolutely no place in any of the larger plotlines but the emotional response it provoked in me was so strong that it sticks out more prominently to me than any of the big plot episodes. that kind of thing is adventure time's bread and butter

then by comparison, in avatar, i absolutely agree that theres a ton left of mundane elements to explore in this world, but i want you to genuinely ask yourself: would the show actually be stronger for including these in it's primary canon? avatar has 61 half-hour episodes, all dedicated to telling one story from start to finish. that's a VERY robust amount of runtime for western children's animation that isn't just one-off episodes you can watch in any order. now, how much could you comfortably pad that with slice of life exploration of the world without it becoming bloated?

avatar gives us a TON of insight into the mundane elements of its world. but because the world of avatar is a fantasy world, and a fantasy world in the middle of a massive conflict with a colonizing fascist army, the 'slice of life' just doesn't feel as casual to the audience. but really think about the stuff avatar decides to give screentime to:

we see the lives of the villagers in kyoshi island, understand their relationship to a past avatar and see their cultural practices

we learn about underground pro-wrestling style earthbendering competitions

we see the average daily lives of fire nation schoolchildren and come to understand the worldview they've grown up with

we see what sort of people come to tea-shops in ba sing se

we get the story of a young farmboy whose brother went off to war and how he struggles with that loss

we see what a house party looks like for wealthy fire nation teens in their beach vacation home

we learn about the life of an old woman who is a former prisoner of war who feels the loss of her culture after assimilating into another society

and much more.

absolutely none of this stuff is plot critical. the overarching narrative still reads fine without it. but the show is so much richer for having it in and all of it serves to thematically strengthen the arcs of our main characters and provide a sense of realism that couldn't exist without these things. the world of avatar feels whole and lived in. that's what makes you want more of it

but the thing is, if it's well written, there is no amount of extra slice of life stuff that will feel satisfying. it's very difficult to know where to draw the line. i think avatar does a really good job of it.

there's a weird mindset in fan spaces sometimes that anything interesting introduced to a canon that wasn't then developed, or any characters that show up and don't have complete arcs, are somehow places where the creators intentionally overlooked something. but it's just fundamentally impossible to explore every interesting element of a fictional world. not every character needs to be developed because that takes time away from developing the important characters. not every bit of lore needs to be revealed because too much information makes it harder for your audience to suss out what's actually important.

i think fanfiction is EXACTLY where this sort of thing should live. it's great that people see these worlds and want to build onto them. but i don't think saying 'this kind of thing is really popular in fanfiction so it should be more prominent in the source media' works out, because putting in More More More without having an actual reason for it being there just gives you a disharmonious end product.

but none of these paragraphs even answered your actual question yet so let me try and get there.

"i would want it to start out with a more "slice of life" approach and gradually introduce overarching elements that over time work their way into the characters' purview. or do you specifically think that kind of storytelling isn't suited for shows, as opposed to other types of media?"

to be honest, i think this is probably the single most difficult narrative structure to pull off. i don't really know what format i think would suit this best because i just don't personally see the point of formatting something this way. the kind of people who are into slice of life-type storytelling are the kind of people to feel like something has gotten overcomplicated or jumped the shark if you switch to telling big stories halfway through. the kind of people who like big, satisfying narratives are the type of people who will not think your media is worthwhile if they have to sit through howevermuch inconsequential meandering to actually get to the narrative arc.

off the top of my head, the only thing i can think of right now that has this sort of narrative structure working well for it is red vs blue. red vs blue has this sort of story structure because it was not planned ahead of time and they just sort of Went For It. the big plot elements were not introduced Later as an intentionally storytelling choice, but because they only decided to make it anything more than slice of life Gamer Halo Man Humor after they had been doing it awhile and decided to experiment with their format.

i think this works REALLY well for red vs blue because part of the very fun thing with watching red vs blue is to see the way it evolved from something very simple and understated to a full fledged production. i'm not sure if you could ever capture that magic in something that was planned out ahead of time and didn't do a bunch of bizarre medium-breaking shit.

like, at the end of the day, a narrative is a work of art, and a work of art has a purpose. it is designed to take something that is in your head and put it into the outside world for other people to engage with. slice of life narratives vs more plot-oriented narratives often communicate very different things in very different formats. will transitioning from one to the other help your narrative have the impact you want it to have? will you be able to explore the same themes and arcs meaningfully in both narrative styles? will the same people be invested with both types of storytelling?

these aren't rhetorical questions, i think as long as you can understand exactly why you're choosing to tell the story in the way you're choosing to tell it, then it'll be good. an intentionally crafted narrative that breaks the rules will land better than a narrative haphazardly tossed together that follows the correct formula. as long as the decisions you make are meaningful decisions there's no bad decisions.

[rolandtowen]

Prince Zuko was a harsh, entitled boy.

Firelord Zuko is a ruler who makes amends. - a study in the various side characters that Zuko came across in his banishment, and how he repays his past actions.

Read Chapter One on ao3 or under the cut! TW for referenced non-con and colonialism

[I believe @flamehotman and @flameomcfirey wanted to be tagged?]

Chapter One: Song

We will get there when we get there, don't you worry Feel bad about the things we do along the way But not really that bad We inhaled the frozen air Lord, send me a mechanic if I'm not beyond repair

- The Mountain Goats

It happened on a Tuesday afternoon.

Zuko was meeting with the agricultural council, a collection of both scholars and farmers, to discuss best practices for renewing the Fire Nations agricultural trade. For so many decades, the Fire Nation out-sourced its agriculture to land in the colonies and imported much of its food. But with the land being given back, the Fire Nation was either going to have to begin growing its own food again, or import their food at a fair price. The economic committee decided on Monday that reviving the Fire Nation farms would be far more cost effective - and of course, would create more jobs in the Fire Nation. With the war over, the number of soldiers that the military required had dropped dramatically, and there were many citizens without work. Zuko had instated severance benefits for unemployed soldiers - the ones not found guilty of war crimes of course, mostly the young recruits - but it couldn't last forever.

It was maddening. Every time Zuko unraveled one problem, he undoubtedly found or created another one. He was trying, really trying, to keep his people safe. But he also had a duty to the rest of the world. The nations that his lineage colonized, pillaged, and destroyed. He resists the urge to write to Aang, to ask him how he does it, how he balances all of the nations in every action he takes. But Aang is busy, all of his friends are, spread thin to the four corners of the world.

Uncle visits him occasionally, when the letters from staff concerned about Zuko's health pile up on his desk. One too many servants have found him, asleep at his desk, face down in treaty papers. But Uncle has his hands full. He already splits his time enough between the Jasmine Dragon and Ember Island, looking after Azula.

Azula.

She was improving, and that's really all Zuko can ask for. He sees her a couple of times a month, pours her a cup of tea, and they sit on the balcony of their vacation-house-turned-mental-retreat. Most of the time, they don't talk. Zuko won't push her; he remembers his silence in his first few months of being banished, how Uncle had to coax him to say anything at meals. Sometimes the only words he uttered in a day were in prayer before meditation. Zuko had thought to himself, speaking out got me into this mess: I'll never speak again.

He's not sure what words were exchanged between Azula and Ozai before he left her and went to burn down the Earth Kingdom, but he can guess it wasn't good. Few of his father's words were.

So they sit and drink their tea. Sometimes, on a good day, Zuko will fix up Azula's hair for her, and she'll reveal some bits of information that he files away for future examination. Something like, I saw Mom before you came with Master Katara. Or she'll double check her reality, asking, you let Ty Lee and Mai out of jail, right? and Zuko will say yes, her friends are safe, they should be visiting any day now.

As painful as seeing her may be, spending time with Azula is far preferable to sitting through an agricultural council meeting.

He looks down at the paper in front of him, a comprehensive budget list for all of the supplies needed to revitalize the Fire Nation's agricultural sphere. Dozens of machines that he's sure Sokka had a hand in inventing, hundreds of varieties of seeds that Omashu is generously selling to them, and -

Thousands of ostrich-horses.

"Councilor Yichen, can you elaborate on the number of animals in this budget? Certainly with the machines we'll provide, farmers will not need so many working livestock."

Councilor Yichen stands, giving a little bow in Zuko's direction. "Of course, Lord Zuko. While the machines will certainly boost productivity, we only have enough for one per farming village at this point. Each family needs at least one working animal, if not to plow the fields, then to transport goods. We decided on ostrich-horses on a recommendation from farmers in the Earth Kingdom colonies, who found them to be invaluable. An ostrich-horse is, in many ways, more valuable than a machine."

Zuko's stomach settles uncomfortably, but he isn't entirely sure why. "Thank you, Councilor. I understand now."

Yichen gives another little bow before he sits, and the rest of the meeting goes as planned, with the exception of a strange seed of unknown guilt now growing in Zuko's stomach.

"Uncle, do you remember when you made tea out of that poisonous plant?"

Uncle laughs, hands faltering as he pours Zuko a cup of jasmine tea. "I remember, Nephew. How could I ever forget?"

"Do you remember the girl who helped you?"

Uncle takes a sip of the warm tea. "Song. Her mother made the best roast duck." He looks at Zuko out of the corner of his eyes. "Why do you ask?"

Zuko looks out over the gardens. He's able to see the whole palace grounds from where they're seated on the second-floor balcony, watching the sun rise. As far as the eye can see, Zuko is upheld as a flawless ruler, his word taken as law. He's sick of it.

"I stole her ostrich-horse," he murmurs into his tea, taking a sip to calm his nerves. "I just remembered, in that agricultural meeting a few days ago. I - I never knew how essential those were to farmers, I just thought I was taking their ride." He turns to fully face his Uncle. "But I think I took a lot more than that."

Uncle meets his eyes with understanding. "And now you want to give it back."

"I know there's no way for me to fully apologize for how I acted in exile, but it feels like I have to try." The cup quivers a bit in his hands, and so his hands drop to his lap. "I'll need someone to watching over the Nation while I'm gone."

Uncle places one of his warm hands over Zuko's shaking ones. "I'm sure I can deal with your advisors for a few days." He squeezes his hand just slightly around Zuko's. "I'm proud to see that even in a few short months, your wisdom as a ruler is growing. Go, make your amends. The Nation will be here when you return." Uncle calls for Zuko's secretary and tells her to clear as much of the Firelord's schedule as she can for the next week. Their voices fade into the background as Zuko stares into his tea, wracking his brain to try and figure out how to track down just one girl in the entire Earth Kingdom. Sending scouts or soldiers from town to town is a recipe for disaster, and the Earth Kingdom villages have been traumatized enough. He supposes he could always call in a ride on his favorite air bison but - this feels like something he should do on his own.

If Song hates him, it might be hard for her to show it in front of the Avatar.

So he'll go alone. No friends, no royal guard. He'll come into Song's town the same way he came last time - defenseless. She can hate him if she wants, he'll give her that.

And he'll try to give back what he took from her.

He packs light, pulling an old tunic and boots from the back of his wardrobe. Though they've been thoroughly cleaned by the palace staff, the scent of campfires and smoke linger upon them. He grabs a cloak - the Earth Kingdom will be starting to chill at this time of year - and he slips out of the palace, using the servant's entrance to get onto the streets unseen.

Autumn comes quietly in the Earth Kingdom. The trees slowly lose their color, giving the last of their strength into vibrant leaves. Soldiers previously conscripted to fight in the war have either returned to their families or have gone to tend to the scorched earth where the Phoenix King made landfall. They clear the debris of fallen airships, making room for the earth to slowly restore herself.

Song envies those soldiers.

Their lives have changed with the ending of the war, but Song's life continues on, its mundane routine continuing over and over again. She cares for a small garden, crafts herbal remedies for her neighbors, and tries to make her mother comfortable. She curses the Spirits for their cruel sense of humor - her mother survives the greatest war ever seen, lives through the attempted invasion of her homeland, only to be struck down by frailty months after the end of it all. Hasn't she suffered enough? Song has whispered those words to the woods on her way to the well time and time again. Now, her body is just - stopping.

Her mother is dying and there's nothing she can do.

Song knows all living things have their time. And she's seen too many living beings go before their rightful time. But she never imagined her mother's time would be in a time of peace. Wasn't ending the war supposed to stop all this pain? Apparently not. She tries not to become bitter, knows that that's the last thing her mother would want for her, but - it hurts. And there's not a damn thing she can do about it.

The leaves from dying trees crackle under her feet.

She arrives at the well, alone. Her hometown is just barely beginning to wake up, rising from its slumber as mothers bring in dry clothes from the clotheslines and fathers begin to toil in the fields. Children run freely from street to street, with a joy that was forbidden during the Fire Nation's occupation. They're kicking at a ball, passing it from one pair of bare feet to another, and Song smiles at them. Someday, maybe.

She sets her water jug on the stone wall of the well and begins to lower the bucket before hearing the ball make impact and a man's voice grunt, "oof!". She spins rapidly around to see a young man, rear planted firmly in the dirt, one hand rubbing at his forehead while the other wipes at a watering eye. The group of children stand, frozen, and she gives them a look, and unspoken command to stay and apologize to the man they just hit with their ball.

"Here, take my hand," Song holds out her right hand, and the man takes it. When the young man meets her eyes, she almost drops him back in the dirt. He has those amber eyes, and she can just see under his loose hair - a burn scar. "Lee?!"

He stands, brushing dust from his cloak, and she catches the hints of red fabric that lie beneath. She recoils. He sighs. "Um, about that." Song sees his hands tremble against his cloak. "My name's not Lee - and I'm from the Fire Nation."

Song reacts as if she'd been slapped. She trips backwards, away from Not Lee, landing hard against the stone of the well. Her leg is aching, feels like its on fire all over again, looking into those amber eyes.

"How could you? I let you into my home." She braces her hands against the well, her leg threatening to give out at any moment. "Now it all makes sense, that you stole from me. That's all you ashmakers are good for." She spits, and it lands on his scarred cheek. "You take land that isn't yours, take women that aren't yours, you take lives!" Her leg finally collapses, and she sinks to the ground with her back against the well. Not Lee makes a move, and she throws her hands up. "Don't you touch me," she grits out, clutching at her leg. He stills, and she wraps her arms around herself, bringing her knees to her chest. "I pitied you, you know? I thought your mother must've been - I looked at your eyes and thought you were a victim like me, like my mother." Her whole body is trembling, but she doesn't care. "But I bet you know who your father is, I bet you're proud to have his eyes."

Not Lee mirrors her, curling in on himself, not even bothering to wipe his face clean. "I do know who my father is, but I'm not proud of him." He looks up to meet her eyes, and Song is struck by how young he looks. When she'd last seen him, he'd looked gaunt, malnourished, with sharp cheekbones. Now, his face had filled out and he looks - young? The scar makes him look older as well, but when you look on the opposite side of his face - all she can see is a kid, couldn't be older than a teenager.

And he was crying.

Stubborn as he is, Not Lee is resolutely ignoring the tears slowly falling from his eyes, but nevertheless - they fell. Song didn't expect that reaction. Tears are not what she expected from a Fire National. Anger, rage, violence - those are the things she's tasted at the hands of firebenders, but this? This is new.

"I'm sorry," Not Lee whispers, looking at his feet. "I came to apologize, I wanted to repay you for your kindness and return what I took. But I think I've overstayed my welcome." He scrubs at his face roughly with the heel of one hand. "But I am, truly sorry. I acted selfishly the last time I was in your home, and I took advantage of your compassion. And I understand that my nation has done even worse. I'm trying to make it better." He pulls his hair back with a band. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I would like to purchase you a new ostrich-horse. And anything else you or your mother may require."

Without warning, Not Lee shifts from his seat position to a bowing one, kneeling with his head pressed to the dry earth. Song stares at him for a small eternity, before realizing that he's waiting, unmoving, for her response. For her judgement.

She lets out a small breath. "Okay," his eyes flick up to hers and her stomach twists. The way he bows is so precise - it must have been drilled into him hundreds of times before. Another thing she wouldn't have expected from a firebender. "Come to dinner."

He stands after she does and gives another slight bow. As they begin the walk back to Song's home, he offers to carry her water jug, and Song feels more weight than one lifted from her.

"What did you say your name was again, young man?" Mei pokes at Zuko's shoulder as she hobbles to the table.

"Mom, I'm sorry about her, she's getting older," Song sets a bowl of fragrant roast duck in front of him and Zuko feels his mouth begin to water.

"No, it's okay, I don't think I've actually properly introduced myself." He takes a quick sip of tea - bracing himself for whatever will happen next - and calmly sets the mug back down. "My name is Zuko," he begins slowly. "AndI'mkindoftheFirelord."

There's the sound of Song dropping a bowl in the kitchen, and Mei leans in a bit closer to Zuko.

"Sorry, dear, could you say that again? My ears aren't what they used to be."

Zuko opens his mouth to respond, but Song slowly enters the room, her eyes narrowed in on Zuko. "You said - you're the firelord?" He nods at her, waiting for her to swing a knife at him, kick him out of their home, call some earthbenders to rough him up -

Before his panic can start to set in, Song runs out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Zuko looks helplessly at Mei.

"Give her a moment." Mei brings her pair of chopsticks to her mouth. "Hmm, she still doesn't make it as well as I used to."

"What about you? Do you hate me?"

Mei sighs, putting her bowl down. "I'm too old for hate, dear. My time in this world is almost over. I can't spend it hating world rulers." She takes a sip of her tea. "But Song? She -" Mei sighs again. "She's been hurt deeply by the Fire Nation, in more ways than one. And it isn't just you. But for a long time, the monarchy has been the embodiment of everything terrible that's ever happened to her. And now you're here, standing in front of her."

Zuko nods. "I understand. And I am sorry, to you as well. I don't think I fully understood the reach of the war. I was always taught that the army acted with honor, that women and children were untouchable." He looks down at his folded hands. "I can see that was false."

"Unfortunately, you are correct." She reaches between them to refill Zuko's cup, then Song's, and hands them both to him. "Go to her. A bit of tea should help bring you some good favor."

The screen door opens and closes, and Zuko finds himself out on the porch. Song sits on the edge, absently massaging her leg, peering into the darkness of the forest.

"Can I join you?"

She shrugs, and he takes that as a yes. Handing over her tea, Zuko sits besides her and tries to find what she sees in the darkness.

For a few minutes, the only sounds are those of them drinking and crickets chirping. Then Song speaks.

"His name was Bao."

Treasured. Precious. Rare.

"That's a lovely name."

"What happened to him?" Song turns abruptly to look at him with shining eyes. "Did he...?"

Zuko shakes his head emphatically. "My Uncle and I traded him to a florist for safe passage to Ba Sing Se. The florist seemed like a good man."

"You went to Ba Sing Se?"

Zuko runs one hand down the back of his neck. "I might have conquered it, actually?"

Sing snorts. "That part I've heard about. You've lived an interesting life, Zuko."

"If by 'interesting' you mean messy, then yes." He sighs. "You had no reason to trust me. Why did you let me back into your home?"

Song laughs, tinged with bitterness. "My mother says I'm too trusting, too gullible." She swirls the dregs of her tea around the bottom of her cup. "But I think there's strength in being kind. And I really did want to forgive you. But you have to be ready."

"And do you think I am?"

She smiles softly at him. "For me, yes. But my guess is I'm not the only person you hurt in exile." She gulps down her remaining tea. "They may not be as forgiving as I am."

"I'm preparing myself for that possibility."

"Does it scare you?"

Zuko ponders it. "I think it does. The idea that I've hurt someone innocent so badly that they may never be able to move past it... that keeps me up at night."

Songs turns towards him, tucking her knees up to her chest. "We can't control how other people see us in this life. How they react to our actions is up to them - all that we can control is our response. You have to be ready to accept that someone may not be ready to forgive you, and you can't let that eat you up." She stares at him intently. "You have to confident that your own actions are enough. That they're good."

It's Zuko's turn to laugh sourly. "Easier said than done," his hand wanders to his scar. "Sometimes I'm still not sure if what I'm doing is right."

"You don't have to do it alone, you know," Song gives him an understanding look. "You need other people around you, Zuko, to remind you what's good."

He huffs, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap. "Do you want to be one of those people?"

"I think you have more than enough goodness surrounding you already. You just have to be confident enough to ask." She sighs, looking back out into the darkness. "Besides, I have to stay here with my mother. She doesn't have long."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do? I could send my healers -"

She shakes her head, cutting him off midsentence. "It's her time." She begins to rub at her scars again. "I just didn't know how much it would hurt. We finally have some peace, and suddenly it's her time."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, not for this. It's due to you that she'll be able to die during peacetime." Her hands come to her eyes, wiping tears away before they can spill down her cheeks. "Her biggest fear was that she'd die and leave me alone to fend for myself during the war. You released her from that fear. Of course I forgive you, Zuko. My mother's no longer scared of dying because of you."

The two of them are silent for a long time, watching fireflies flicker off and on in the trees, listening to the crickets sing.

"I'm going to find Bao for you."

Song looks up in surprise. "You don't have to-"

"I want to, I'm sure he's still out there somewhere." Zuko rises from his seat. "If you ever need anything, anything, you write directly to me. I'll tell my staff that you're a priority."

"Are you leaving?" Song stands as well. "You could stay, if you want."

Zuko shakes his head silently. "I have to get back, and travelling by night is best for a Firelord who doesn't want his identity revealed," he smiles, his scarred skin relaxing into it. With that, he pulls his hair out of its topknot, grabs his pack and swords, and starts to disappear into the night.

"Firelord Zuko?" He stops and turns back at the sound of Song's voice. She makes the sign of the flame and bows. "Thank you, for everything." He bows back, lower than protocol dictates, but he doesn't care.

Three weeks pass, and the air has turned bitterly cold.

Song again makes her daily trip to the village well, with snow crunching under her feet instead of dead leaves. The soldiers have returned from their work in restoring fields for the season, and so the village feels alive when she steps into it. Despite the chill, children still run in the street, under the watchful eye of their mothers and fathers. Song feels a twinge of longing, but she tries to focus on the happiness she feels for the children instead. Song sets her water jug on the side of the well, breathing hot air into her palms to warm her hands after touching the freezing stone.

"Excuse me, miss, are you Song?" A voice comes from behind her, and she turns to see two men dressed in red tunics.

"I am," she replies, tucking her hands into the pockets of her hanbok. "And you are?"

They bow to her. "We come on behalf of Firelord Zuko, to deliver a gift." A third man rounds the corner with an ostrich-horse on a tether. "We found him at a desert settlement, he's been well taken care of, but if there's anything you need -"

They're cut off as Song runs to throw her arms around the neck of the ostrich-horse. "Bao!" She strokes his beak, looking into his eyes. "Do you remember me?"

Bao cocks his head to the side, pupils widening as he chirps softly, and then he lets out a loud whinny, pushing his head into Song's chest. He purrs, closing his eyes and relaxes against her.

"Sweet Bao, it's really me, you're really home," Song can feel her eyes dampening, but holds it together as one of the men hands her a bit of parchment.

"A note from the Firelord. He wanted us to remind you that you can write to him anytime you need anything."

Song nods. "And tell him I said 'thank-you' again." Bao whinnies loudly again, and she adds on, "Bao says 'thank-you' too."

"Of course, miss." With a synchronized bow, the men depart, and Song unrolls the parchment.

Song,

I've followed your advice and surrounded myself with good people. It helps.

Give my best to your mother - my Uncle still talks about her roast duck sometimes. I've established a fund specially for women and child victims of the war, inspired by some of what you and Mei shared with me. Write me if you feel like you or anyone in your village wants to apply for it.

And, thank you for trusting and forgiving me. I'll try to keep earning it.

May the Spirits continually bless you,

Zuko

She tucks the parchment into her pocket, fills her jug, and finds herself back in Bao's familiar saddle after more than a year. "Come on, Bao," she says as she takes the lead into her hands, guiding them back to the empty farmhouse.

"Let's go home."

[if you read through this whole thing, go drink some water! I'll know if u don't :) ]

[rogue-ai-cat]

I didn't want to comment this on the actual post I saw because I don't feel like engaging in conflict right now, but I couldn't watch Parasite. I just looked at it and felt sick because not only is that not horribly unlike my own life at times and I'd rather not relive that, but because I know that a huge part of why it's happening to China is because it's happening here.

China is largely our fault. Japan is mostly our fault, but they've coped fairly well with it. Korea is our fault and South Korea is finally "recovering". Vietnam is our fault. We created the Taliban (literally, look it up). We murdered a million people because 1% of them decided to return the favor. A hundred or more tiny island nations are our fault. Like there isn't a single nation we haven't fucking ruined. America the break shit and leave state.

So yeah... Some of us do know. But we can't just leave because our nation very much likes to keep us trapped here and the other countries hate us, and rightfully so. We'll try to stay mostly on the down low, get arrested maybe once or twice because that's all it takes in America to ruin you forever, and then we start returning the break shit and leave mentality. And that's why our politics vilainizes the homeless. Because that's what we do do our political enemies. We arrest them and leave them homeless and the government actively wants to not do anything about the "homeless problem" because they know how to use it to their advantage. And from there you get the police brutality and every other mess.

Freedom my ass. Everyone lived in fear of the government and/or the mega-corporations that fund it and this control it. And we're Americans, so we're going to drive this car until it explodes and kills everyone instead of doing any amount of preventive maintenance. Americans HATE preventative maintenance. That includes the COVID vaccine or any vaccine or healthcare of any sort and mental health resources and I can go on forever about how much Americans hate taking care of themselves let alone anyone else

Because we've glorified the whole worker mill dynamic and that's only just starting to break down.

I don't know what's gonna happen in my lifetime, but I will be DAMNED SURPRISED if it doesn't include an American civil war and no nation in the world taking American refugees.

And I can't see China being that far behind us. As governments, they're just too old and too opposed to change.

Anyway, that's my drug induced very depressed political rant for the evening